airaviity

[airaviity]

𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐤 𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬

── ˚₊‧ 💋 ɞ₊‧˚ seonghwa x fem!reader ── mdni 𓆩♡𓆪 smut, domme kink, dom/sub dynamics, dom!reader, sub!hwa, bunny!hwa, overstimulation, crying, praise, light degradation, teasing/edging, ruined orgasm, handjob, oral sex (m receiving), cumplay, use of toys (hard cock ring), food play (popsicle), outfit kink (bunny suit) ⸝⸝ᵕ ༯ᵕ⸝⸝ bushy tailed bunnies cum fast <3 ── word count: ².⁴ᵏ 🐇 “you’re the filthiest thing I’ve ever dressed up…”

A/N: this was very random but I saw this [x] outfit on tik tok and immediately pictured hwa wearing it, and had a visceral reaction to the thought. then I wrote this cause yeah I’m a pervert and was too freaked out lmao so enjoy my cherries ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊ feedback is always welcomed!

You rested against the edge of the bed, arms crossed loosely, the dim flicker of the amber lamplight casting a glow across the room. The bathroom door had been shut for nearly five minutes, and you could hear the faint rustle of clothing and the occasional nervous mumble behind it.

“Hwa,” you called, playful but calm. “You don’t have to be anxious, you’re going to look so good.”

There was a pause.

“Are you sure?” His voice came muffled through the door. “It’s kind of…tight.”

You smiled to yourself, getting excited just picturing it. “That’s the point, baby. Trust me — you’re going to ruin me.”

Another beat of silence. A soft exhale.

The doorknob turned and then he stepped out.

Hood up. Bunny ears flopped gently over silver hair. The black ribbed knit sculpted to him like sin — snug over his chest and arms, zipper half-drawn down the middle with a tiny heart-shaped pull glinting in the light. The fabric molded to his waist, cinching him in, and the cut at the hips left little to the imagination. His thighs were toned and lean, calves flexing as he shifted from one bare foot to the other, clearly uncertain.

“Holy shit,” you breathed.

He looked away, biting his lip, blushing high on his cheeks. “Too much���or not enough?”

“What?” You laughed tenderly, stepping closer as if you were being pulled by gravity. “No. You don’t get it. You look…insane.”

Your eyes trailed down — past his crimson cheeked face, the curve of his shoulders, his collarbones a little hidden under the soft edge of the hood. The suit hugged his abdomen so fiercely you could see the lines of his abs flex every time he adjusted his stance. And his waist — dear god, his waist. The way the fabric dipped in, the way it framed him like it had been sewn to worship his body.

“I would give anything to see you in this every single day,” you declared, “you have no idea what you’re doing to me right now.”

He peered at you through his lashes, a quiet, nearly bashful smile spreading across his face.

“Turn around,” you gently commanded. “Let me see the back.”

He hesitated — just for a second — then turned.

You groaned.

The bunny tail — soft and pink and bushy — sat right above the curve of his ass, perfectly perched between his hips, which were strained by the frame. The back was nearly bare — just thin ties knotted low at the waist holding the knit in place, leaving his spine exposed and his shoulder blades on full display.

His back was lithe and strong, blades shifting as he moved, muscles flexing in small, rippling waves beneath tan, flushed skin.

“You’re not real,” you whispered. “You can’t be.”

He glanced over his shoulder. “You really like it?”

“Like it?” You licked your lips, devouring him with your eyes. “Baby, you’re the kind of creature I’d sell my soul for. You are the most rare, succulent toy. You are the bunny of my dreams.”

His breath caught. The blush darkened.

“Fuck– I’m obsessed with you,” you moved another inch directly behind him now, “you’re unbelievable.”

You circled him wantonly, dragging your eyes over every inch like you were committing it to memory — or maybe preparing to ruin it beyond recognition.

“Hwa, this suit should be illegal on you.”

He flinched slightly at your tone — not from fear, but anticipation. The deep, simmering hunger behind your words made the hairs on his neck stand up.

“Do you even understand how delicious you look right now?” You moved closer, letting your fingers graze the dip in his lower back.

He swallowed hard.

And then your gaze dropped — and locked.

The material pulled taut over his crotch — clung against the thick, heavy outline of his cock, so defined it made you drool. You could see how the outfit struggled to contain him, daring to be freed, straining at the seams like he was already half hard from your praise alone.

“Oh my god,” words stuck in your throat, almost in awe, “you’re huge in this.”

His pelvis tensed — instinctual, embarrassed, turned on.

“Look at you,” you crooned, eyes still glued on the mouthwatering shape beneath the fabric. “It’s obscene. I can see everything — every vein, every inch, the way you’re hanging like you want to be sucked through it.”

He let out an uneven exhale, unable to keep eye contact.

“You’re lucky I’m not on my knees already.” You took another step in, barely ghosting his hip just above the strings dangling there. “This outfit might cover you, but it doesn’t hide you. If anything…it’s putting you on display. All slutty and desperate. I bet you’re already leaking, aren’t you?”

“Don’t—” he gasped, voice caught in his gullet.

“Don’t what?” Your words were laced with wicked affection. “Don’t talk about how badly I want you in my mouth right now? Don’t talk about how you’d appear even prettier with your thighs shaking while I fuck you with my tongue through the cloth?”

His head dropped back with a soft whine, he couldn’t take it — like you were dragging the desire out of him with every filthy word.

“And the best part?” You pressed in, lips brushing the edge of his hood near his ear, “This was made for you. Beautiful bunny with that cock, that body, that face…this isn’t even cosplay anymore. It’s your skin.”

He shivered, hands curling into fists.

“Spin for me again, baby,” you said, tone velvety and stern, “show me what that tail’s hiding. I’m not done admiring you.”

You prowled around him again, slower this time, feasting on every inch of him — but kept your hands to yourself. You didn’t want your slender tail-slut to get hard yet.

He stood there in the center of the room, breathing shallow under your burning gaze. The bunny hood flopped over one eye, his cheeks rosy with heat, chest heaving.

You came up behind him and closed in, pressing a soft kiss to his neck, “Still limp, right, baby?”

He nodded wordlessly, pupils dilating.

“Good.” You kissed him again, just behind the ear. “You need to stay like that for this next part.”

You walked away just long enough to retrieve it — the gift of hard pink plastic. A cock ring, cool and shining under the lamp light, shaped to engulf him snug and tight. You held it up where he could see, watching the realization ripple down his spine.

“Bought this for you the moment I saw this outfit,” your voice low and sweet. “Hot pink, like that cute little tail because you belong to me.”

He looked entranced, gagging for it pathetically and speechless.

“You do belong to me, right?” A cocky grin splayed along your mouth as you crossed the room again.

He nodded again, faster now. “Yes.”

“Mmm. Now hold still.”

Your hands moved to the front of the suit, slowly dragging the material to the side just enough to reveal him. His flaccid cock rested dense against his thigh, flexible and warm pink, not yet reacting but ready to be touched. His hips stuttered a little as the air hit him, and your fingers—tender, reverent—cupped his balls.

“God,” you hummed, eyes dark. “You look so fuckable like this and I haven’t even started yet.”

You worked carefully, pulling his balls through the ring first, letting them settle against the cool plastic. Then your fingers wrapped around the base of his cock, guiding it through, easing the ring up until it sat firm — pretty and vulgar and absolutely perfect.

The moment it was in place, your mouth brushed the shell of his ear again.

“There,” your lips curled into a lustful grin, “a different kind of collared, and much hotter. Pretty little cock tied up all for me — in pink, no less.”

You let the fabric snap back into place, now stretched tighter over the new shape. You could already see the beginnings of a heartier bulge — not from arousal, but just from the way the pink grip lifted and curved him forward. Pressed, exposed, unmistakably owned.

He whimpered — full-bodied, carnal and needy.

“You don’t get to touch it,” you added, fingers teasingly close to his growing erection. “But you’re going to feel it… every little shift, every breath. That ring’s gonna remind you who you belong to.”

You pulled him into a deep kiss, tongues massaging together, your hands clawing up his body, over the cinch of the suit, one hand cradling the back of his neck while the other pressed against the stretch over his cock.

“You’re the filthiest thing I’ve ever dressed up,” you moaned into his mouth. “And I’m going to make sure you feel like it.”

He was still wide-eyed with burning cheeks when you took his hand and laced your fingers through his.

“C’mere,” you said, affectionate and dangerous.

He followed instantly — no hesitation now, just obedient little bunny steps, hood still up and ears bouncing kindly with each movement. You led him into the kitchen, the warm glow of the overhead lights casting shadows on his thighs, his waist, the way the suit embraced him, strung so rough now that the cock ring had started to do its job.

You opened the freezer with one hand and pulled out a cherry-red popsicle, opening it while looking at him deliberately. Leaning against the counter, you took a long, smutty drag of the frozen treat across your tongue. The cold made you shudder. The taste was sugary and sticky.

Then you turned to him, holding the popsicle out.

“Open.”

He did. Full pink lips parted, eyes glassy.

You fed him a lick — let him wrap his mouth around it, moan obsessively at the temperature. The red staining his wet plump lips. You watched some slide down his chin but didn’t wipe it off.

“Good boy,” you bit off the top of the popsicle and sucked it until it melted into your taste buds, “you’re doing so well for me.”

Hwa blinked drunkenly like he was barely holding on, cock visibly spasming beneath the cloth now — the ring straining, the shaft glossy with precum that had already started to soak through.

You dropped the rest of the popsicle into the sink and wiped your hand on a towel, then sank to your knees.

“Hands at your sides,” you barked sharply. “Keep them there. No matter what.”

He nodded, breath trembling.

You tugged at the front of the costume, peeled it just low enough to free his cock — flushed, swollen, thick and heavy, bound at the base by that cruel pink collar. He throbbed in the air, easily dripping for you, twitching helplessly above the waistband.

“Look at you,” you hummed, breath slipping over the tip. “So hard. So full. Just waiting for me.”

Your tongue swirled across the head, devastatingly steady and cold — still coated with cherry.

He bit back a moan, thighs flexing, hands shaking as he fought to keep them off you.

“You taste that tart sugar? That’s what your cock’s gonna be soaked in by the time I’m done with you. You remember that every time you put this outfit on.”

And then you enveloped your lips around him.

Chilled mouth. Wet heat. Tongue rolling along the underside while the cock ring kept him achingly hard, trapped at full pressure. He moaned, loud and wrecked, hips rutting forward before he froze — remembering your rule.

You glanced up at him, drinking in the sight, hollowing your cheeks, sucking harder and guiding him down your throat before pulling back and smiling devilishly. Lips stretched around the thick, pulsing head of his cock as you listened to the strangled noises he made.

He was so close.

You could feel it — the way his thighs quivered under your hands, the way his cock convulsed violently against your tongue, more intense than before, weighing with need and trapped by the unforgiving grip of that pink cock ring. His hands were still at his sides, balled into fists, his jaw slack and eyes unfocused.

You sucked him deeper, letting your throat flex around him, your lips compressed around the base. He sobbed above you, breath catching like it hurt.

“I’m gonna— I-I’m gonna cum,” he rasped, barely able to get the words out.

You moaned around him — and then pulled off.

The second your mouth left, he choked on a noise that was somewhere between a scream and a sob. His cock pulsed uncontrollably in the air, precum oozing freely now, and you watched — eyes wide and pleased — as his hips jerked once, twice—

And then he came.

Not with pleasure. Not with release. But with need.

Thick spurts of cum painted the tile below, pouring in messy lines, and he made a broken, wrecked sound — clearly overwhelmed by the ruin. Like his whole body was being ripped apart and there was no way to stop it.

Tears welled in his eyes. His knees buckled. He didn’t touch you. Didn’t move. Just stood there, vibrating, bare and breathless, cock still bound at the base, swollen and glistening, the ring keeping him too stiff to breathe.

You stood gingerly, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, and stepped into his space. His lips pouted, damp eyes filled with defeat and surrender.

“Aww,” you cooed sweetly, tilting his chin up. “Are those tears?”

He blinked, one falling slowly down his cheek.

You giggled — mocking and delighted.

And then you leaned in and kissed him there. Right on the tear.

“You’re such a bad bunny,” toying with him, you let your mouth wander and nip at his earlobe with your teeth. “You came so quickly. Didn’t even let me play with you properly.”

Clicking your tongue as a finger slid down his slick length. He sniffled, ashamed, eager to cum again, and throbbing painfully in the aftermath of his ruined orgasm.

“Guess we’ll have to try again.” Your fingers curled around his cock once again, giving it one quick pump in your fist, then another.

He cried out — whole body jolting, legs going weak.

“I didn’t say we were done,” you said, voice silky and hungry like the richest sin. “You’ll stay hard while the ring’s on, which means I still get to play.”

You started stroking him lazily — not to build him up too fast, but to drag it out. Every nerve overstimulated. Every inch raw and wet and too sensitive to handle.

Dizzy and melting, Hwa huffed, tears sliding freely now.

You snuggled and smirked along his sharp jaw, so loving—so brutal.

“My pretty little bunny,” you purred. “We’re just getting started.”

© written by teezslvt— do not steal or claim as your own 𓆩♡𓆪

[airaviity]

Thinking about a Yandere with a caring, understanding darling ❥KHJ, HK, CS, CSB, PSH, CJH

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: the yandere door swings both ways (reader is aware of and okay with a lot of things), paranoid yandere forgets to eat and sleep

Your boyfriend is a little weird. You know that. You think it's charming. It's endearing how he stalks your location when you leave the house. It's sweet how he wraps his arm around your shoulder and glares at people when they talk to you too long. You weren't afraid when you found him hiding in your closet, crying — before you were officially dating — about how he was just afraid someone was going to try and take you from him.

"Baby?" You open your eyes and find him exactly where you left him as you fell asleep, down to the fact that his eyes are open and trained on you. "Did you just wake up?" You hum as you rub his arm, snuggling closer in the blankets.

"Oh... I guess I forgot to go to sleep." Your head snaps up, and you ask how the hell do you just forget something like that? What the hell was he even doing? "I was watching you. Just to be sure." Sure of what, neither of you exactly know. Maybe, to be sure no one scooped you up in the middle of the night. That he could rescue you should there be an emergency. That you wouldn't pack your things and leave. A million and one scenarios.

"My vigilant knight in shining armor," you giggle as you press your face into his chest, not caring that his hug is a little bit too tight. "When was the last time you ate, baby?" He says he doesn't know, maybe lunch? He pouts like a child as you shove yourself out of his grip. "I'm going to make you something to eat, and then you're going to sleep for a couple hours- ah, ah-" You cut him off before he can complain, "how will you take care of me if you're passing out from exhaustion or hunger? Hm?" He can't change your mind, he just accepts the kiss you place on his lips and smiles lightly as he follows you to the kitchen.

Soon, back in bed — after making sure you ate as well lest you wither away during the few hours he closes his eyes — he pulls you under him and lays atop of you like a weighted blanket. He wraps his arms around your neck to hug you, moaning sleepily as you scratch his back. "Don't leave while I'm asleep." As if you could. As if you would.

"I'll be right here, baby. You just rest your eyes for a while~" He's so beyond fucking lucky to have you as the object of his obsession affection.

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[airaviity]

Thinking about being ATEEZ's gangbang baby♡ ಠ_ಠwarning/content: gangbang, dvp, triple penetration, no holes barred (literally: vaginal, anal, and throat), deep sub-space reader, HEAR ME OUT ON THIS ONE- ❥ATEEZ x fem reader

They'll pass you around, member to member, so fluidly that you hardly understand what's happening as someone new buries their cock into you. You don't know how many members have had their turn, or how many times they have. All you know is that your head feels light, like a bag of cotton candy as Seonghwa strokes your sweaty hair and asks if you're ready to take another load, and your cunt feels so pleasantly used that you can't help but say yes, yes please.

They don't mind using you at the same time either. They actually like it, the fucking freaks. When Jongho is bouncing you on his lap, Wooyoung will come up behind you and join him in your cunt. When Seonghwa and San are sharing your pussy, Yunho will be slowly sliding into your ass. While Yeosang has you pinned to the bed, fucking you like you owe him money, Mingi will take advantage of the way your head is hanging off the edge and fuck your throat like a personal fleshlight.

Hongjoong likes to go very last, even if he's already had his fill. He likes to crowd you as you already feel small and fragile and completely malleable. He likes to see the fuzziness in your eyes. He's very gentle. He fucks into your abused cunt nice and slow as he tells you how very, very proud they all are of you for taking them like you did.

And then, rinse and repeat.

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[airaviity]

"Suck It And See." ❥Kim Hongjoong x Song Mingi x fem reader

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: sado- (mingi+joong) -masochism (reader), smoking an unidentified substance, putting a joint out on readers skin, deg + praise double whammy, thigh kissing, cunniligus + fingering, fucked up people in love <3

"What's in it?" You make the mistake of asking as Mingi holds the joint to your lips. It earns you a bite to your inner thigh, courtesy of Hongjoong; who lays between them casually licking at your cunt. Telling you without words that you know better than to question them.

"Suck it and see," Mingi hums lowly, so you open up your lips and take it, easing his glare just a bit. "That's better. That's a good brainless doll." He almost coos. Almost. As he lays down and snuggles to your side, shoving your shirt up and groping at your chest as you take a few puffs. "Don't be greedy," he says with a pinch to your side, making you squeak and immediately hold it out for him. You cup your hand under it as you hold it between his lips, shivering from the way Hongjoong drags his tongue through your folds without hurry — without care of making you feel good. He's just doing it to taste you, to tease you.

The ash falls into your cupped palm, but you know better than to jump or blow it away. It's starting to hit you — it's definitely weed. They love to make you guess what kind of strain they'd made you smoke. Sometimes they do different herbs. But you can never tell. You're always too fuzzy headed, be it from the drugs or their treatment of you. When Mingi lays back down, you pass the joint to Hongjoong. He only pulls away from your cunt enough to fit the joint into his lips, his fingers continuing their slow torment of your insides. Mingi takes your cupped hand and brings it to your chest, smearing you with ash. He doesn't even have to say anything, the act in of itself is degrading you.

When Hongjoong is done, he looks up at you and watches your face intently as he presses the smoldering joint into your thigh. The way your eyebrows twitch as your brain catches up to the sudden pain before your lip trembles with a whimper, your cunt twitching around his digits. And they laugh at you. Mingi pats your cheek, "cute little pain slut~" Hongjoong tosses the butt of the joint haphazardly and leans down, blowing on the irritated skin and making you writhe a bit before Mingi hooks his leg over your hip and holds you down; biting at your earlobe and moaning quietly as he soaks in your small whines. "You done?" He asks.

"Yes, sir. T-thank you, sir." Your obedient words are rewarded with Hongjoongs fingers slowly curling inside of you, his soft lips pressing against the new mark on your thigh; placed amongst an array of older ones. Almost apologetic, but also not in the slightest because —

"Have to mark up our pretty doll so she knows her place~"

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[airaviity]

—𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘖𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘖𝘳𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥 • K. HONGJOONG

𐙚⋆.˚pairing: millionaire!,dilf!Hongjoong x fem!baker!reader 𐙚⋆.˚summary: ❝Why is there an angle in his orchard? And why does his pants feel so tight all of a sudden?❞ 𐙚⋆.˚warnings: 18+, smut, piv(don't), creamipie, size kink, big dick!joongie😌,outdoor sex, public sex [except there's no public save joongie's bodygaurds who makes an appearance once(1)], dacryphilia, pet names, finger sucking, praises, mentions of masturbation, manipulative joong, joong threatens reader once, i think joong pavlovs reader to fall for him?? lmk if i missed anything !! 𐙚⋆.˚w/c: 2.4k (yippee^^) 𐙚⋆.˚ a/n: had this idea for so long!! hope you like it and feedbacks are greatly appreciated<33

"I don't care what you do to that barren land, goddamnit!" Hongjoong barked angrily into his phone. "I want the money!"

Being a multimillionaire is not an easy task. Having to control both men and resources, the man was growing tired. So when Hongjoong found a little opening in his schedule, he came out to his vast orange orchard to catch some fresh air.

But as luck has it, the man can find peace seemingly nowhere. He sighed as he hung up the call, looking up at the blue sky with a frustrated shake of his head.

It was then that the corner of his sharp eyes caught a glimpse of something white running past him. He's alert in a second, fingers flying to the hidden pocket of his coat that concealed a shotgun.

He took long, cautious stride to where he presumed he saw the figure. "I'm warning you," his loud voice booming across the thousands of acres of vast land filled with rows and rows of orange tress.

"I have a gun. Make one wrong move, and you're dead on spot."

He stopped in his tracks when faint sobs reached his ear. At first, he thought it was rabbit that somehow made its way into his land, but now that he was straining his ears, he figured out it was a human crying.

Making a sharp turn, he finally found the intruder, crouching behind the bark of a tress. "Who are you?" He asked almost in disbelief.

You looked up with teary eyes, hands shaking. "I'm sorry, sir," those are the first words that leaves your quivering lips. "I'll not do it again!"

Hongjoong sighs a breath of relief when he sees you. "That was not my question," he pointed, rounding the corner to kneel before you.

"Who are you?" He felt his breath hitch he finally noticed your face, eyes teary, lips quivering. He felt his pants growing tight. "How did you get in?" He aske das he wiped your tear with his thumb, his palm warm against your face.

Your eyes widen in surprise, not expecting this kind gesture for the mogul. "Y-Y/n", you managed to stutter out your name softly, holding back your tears. "A friend told me of this place."

Hongjoong raises a brow. "You trespassed my property?" A hint of a smirk playing on the corner of his lips.

You quickly avert your gaze in guilt, holding onto the basket you were holding. Behind you. ''Sorry," you mumble under your breath before the severity of it all dawns upon you, and you start begging yet again.

"I'm sorry, I swear I won't do it again," you cry, holding onto his larger hands. "I won't let my friends either!"

Hongjoong ignores your cries as his eyes catch the basket hidden behind you. "What's that?" He asks, swiftly snatching it from your hold.

"Oh," he remarks, smirking. "Pretty sneaked in to get a hold of my delicious oranges?" The name he called made your cheeks warm but you decided to ignore it for now.

"You can have some too," you said halfheartedly as you handed one of your bigger picks into his palm, which made the fruit look small.

Hongjoong started laughing loudly, his head tipping back. "Sweetheart," he said in between chuckles. "These all," he pointed at the thousands of trees neatly planted in rows. "Are mine." He smirked.

You mentally facepalmed at your own stupidity. How could you offer the man something he already owns? "Sorry," you pout, brows furrowing.

Hongjoong smirks, getting up. "C'mon, up up," he says as he helped you to your feet. "Thanks," you mutter, dusting off your dress. You bow to the man again. "Thank you, I will not come back here again," you are seconds away from making a run for it before Hongjoong grabs your wrist, stopping you completely.

"Wait, darling," he grins. "Not so fast now."

You scrunched up your face when he makes you walk with him. "What do you do, angel?"

"I have a small bakery," you answer truthfully, eyes fixed on the hem of your dress that danced with every step you took. Hongjoong nods, impressed. "Never seen you before?"

"It belonged to my father. He passed not long ago," you say quitely.

"Oh, honey," Hongjoong coos, but you're not sure if he means it or not. "I'm so sorry for your loss," he suddenly pulls you into a hug.

You stay there frozen, unsure of what to do with your hands. His hands lingers around your back, palm hot against your body. "It's going to be okay," he said as he finally broke the embrace.

You nod awkwardly, fisting your dress. "Thanks."

As the two of you walked under the sunlight, it was then that you noticed his face. Eyes dark and sharp, his face as if chiseled by the gods themselves. Apart from his good looks, you noticed he was old. Much older than you and maybe older than your father.

"Like what you see, darling?"

You cough, quickly, turning your head to the side. "Ye-no! I mean no!"

Hongjoong chuckles. "You're beautiful too," he compliments. "Like an angel."

As the two of you finally reached the gate, Hongjoong stopped, crossing his arms over his chest. "I believe I deserve some compensation?" He cocks a brow.

Ah, there it is. Money. Of course, a man like him will ask for money to sweep all your dirt under the rug. No matter how handsome he is, he is a mogul. What else did you expect?

But it did scare you a bit, though. When you were chatting with him, you purposely left out the part where you mentioned you had sneaked into his orchard more than once. And now if he asks for fifty thousand to not hand you to the police, you'd have to sell the bakery and your house and move to another city and get a new name.

"I don't have that much money," you say solemnly, looking down at your feet.

"Whoever said anything about money, darling?" Hongjoong tilted his head. "You're a baker aren't you?" To which you nod quickly.

"Then bring me your delicacies," he smiled, juggling an orange he plucked from your basket. "I'll let you pick my fruits if you do."

"Really?" You almost scream. The offer is tempting. Mr. Kim's oranges are one of the sweetest and juiciest in town. Whenever you made cakes or drinks with these fruits, your customers would return home with bags full of your baking. That was partly one of the reasons you sneaked in today too.

"Yes, really," he smiles, putting a slice of the fruit into his mouth. "A deal. And I don't go back on my word."

You think only for a second before you shake your head. "Alright, then. I'll come back tomorrow?"

Hongjoong nods, holding a piece to your lips. "Alright," he whispered, waiting till you reluctantly opened your mouth and took the fruit, your lips brushing past his fingers.

The rest of the day is full of tedious work. You work carefully, making your best to make the most delicious, finger-licking moist orange cake known to mankind. You've been given an opportunity and you will make full use of it.

The next day, you confidently walked into the orchard through the gate, unlike through the fences like yesterday, half expecting the security guard who stood stoic to the side to seize you up and throw you out.

After walking for a few minutes, you saw Hongjoong sitting on a recliner under the shade of a tree, a cigarette burning on his lips. "I've been waiting for you, darling," he beamed.

{'Hey, bring out a chair and a table," he clicked his fingers to a nearby bodygaurd who swiftly emerged with the furniture in his hands. "Sit, darling," Hongjoong smiled, getting up to hold out your hair for you.

You quickly sit, taking out the cake and placing it on the table. "Here,"you say firmly. "I kept my words."

Hongjjong smirked, cutting a slice of the cake. "And I'll keep mine," he said before he took a bite, a satisfied moan leaving his lips cream-stuck lips. "So good!"

You almost smiled. Almost. "Here," he said holding a piece to your lips. "Take a bite, love," he urged.

You sighed knowing he will not give up till you agree. You open your mouth, your lips closing around his fingers as you ate your own creation.

Hongjoong's breath hitched as he watched you eat. "Good, isn't it?"

You simply nod, not really in the mood to talk, making the man groan. "Oh, come on, darling!" He whined. "Speak a little. Wanna hear your pretty voice, too." He did not miss the way your face grew red.

And as such the days passed. He would let you pick his fruits while he all but devoured your pastries. One day, while you were trying to pick an orange from a higher branch, you felt Hongjoong' hands snake around your waist, lifting you up effortlessly.

"There you go, little darling," his breath hot against your ear.

And gradually, the man started to treat your "deal" with him like a mini date He'd have picnic blankets laid out, expensive wine and food ready for you.

And you've started to fall for him too. It can't be helped. The way he took care of you, fed you, called you his "sweet girl," and "pretty baby," you were bound to fall. Hard.

"Is it sweet?" Hongjoong smiled as he fed a chocolate-covered strawberry to you as you lay your head in his lap.

You slowly take the strawberry from his fingers, licking his fingers as you take the smallest bite of the chocolate. "Sweet," you affirm batting your lashes at the man.

"Fuck," he curses, feeling his cock harden. "Do you know what you're doing, sweetheart," he groans.

You smile, taking his fingers in your mouth, rolling your tongue around his deft digits. "So delicious," you mumbled with your mouth full.

He can't hold on anymore. He lays your head gently on the ground, straddling you as he eyes your body. "Such a naughty girl," he chides, fingers pulling on the string that held your blouse.

You whine, "Need you."

"Yeah?" He smirks, words dying in his throat as you bare underneath him, solely for his eyes. "So pretty," he breathes, messaging your breasts.

"Joongie," you gasp as he pulls on your sensitive bud. "That's right baby," he praises, rolling the bud in his fingers. "Call out my name."

He leans down to suck on your breasts, massaging the other with his free hand. "Always wanted to do this," he mutters against your skin.

Begrudgingly, he gets up, pulling your dress from your body. He takes a moment to take you all in, naked in all your gorgeous glory underneath the sun, the rays hitting your body in all the right places. "Dear god," he sighs. "Help me."

He runs his fingers along your legs, stopping just before your soaking cunt. He licks his lips, kissing his way to your lips. "Kiss me," he commands.

You waste no time as you pull him flush against your lips, messily kissing him till both of you are breathless. "Fuck," his eyes roll to the back of his head as he quickly rids himself of his clothes.

"Look what you've done to me, baby," he rasps, stroking his cock before you. You gulp nervously. Is that supposed to fit inside you?

Hongjoong, sensing your fear cupped your face lovingly. "Scared, baby?" He cooed, licking a strip from your jaw. You nod. "Its okay, love," he kisses the top of your head as reassurance. "I'll make sure you're okay."

He rubs the tip of his cock along your soaked slit, groaning as he dipped in just the tip, pulling it out just as fast. "Joongie, please," you beg, tears already gathering the the corner of your eyes.

"So pretty when you cry, too, love," he barely gives you chance before he pushes in, making your back arch off the pink blanket. "Fuck!" You scream, tears rolling down your eyes. "Too big, Joongie," you cry, weakly pushing him away. "Not gonna fit," you sob.

But he's so close! After months of fucking himself to the thought of you, the image of your lips sucking his fingers, the way your face grew red whenever he called you those sweet names, he's already too far gone. Not having someone to fuck for a long time has hi on edge.

"I will make it fit, darling," he groans as he finally bottoms out inside you, stretching you out completely.

He stills, giving you time to adjust to his length, But its not possible when to used to his size as your eyes widen, the stretch feeling delicious yet a bit painful.

"Darling," he whines, rolling his hips into you. "I can't hold on anymore," he nestles his face into the crook of your neck, biting the soft skin.

"Okay," you nod. "You can move, joongie."

He's elated as he thrusts deep into you, your walls pathetically pulsing around his cock. "Oh my god," he moans, holding you down by the waist.

You thrash around him, the feeling all too overwhelming for you."Joongie, Hongjoong!"

"Shh, pretty," he coos, tracing shapes against your skin to calm you down. "It'll be better in a second."

After a few thrusts, you finally ease around him, the pain fading into pleasure. "mmf-" you moan out, your jaw hanging open, feeling his cock almost kissing your cervix.

"So big," you sob. "So good!"

Hongjoong smirks, pressing down on your stomach, the action making your head dizzy. "Feel it, baby? I'm fucking your womb," he grins.

You feel your high approaching, grasping at his hands. "Co-Joongie, can I come? Please?"

Hongjoong feels his heart swell. The fact that you're asking him to come, he's elated. It makes him proud.

"Come, darling," he coaxes, littering your face with kisses. "Come around me, love."

His words all you need as you gush around him, Hongjoong fucking you through your high. He groans, and with a particularly deep thrust, he floods your pussy, both your release gushing out of your stretched pussy.

He collapses atop you, holding you close. "You did so good, my love," he smiles, kissing the top of your head. "You took me so well. Not many can do that," he chuckled.

You giggle, snuggling closer to him. "I have to say, I wasn't expecting that." You smirk, enjoying the way his brows furrowed. "For an old man, you have a lot of stamina."

Hongjoong pouts, hiding his face into the crook of your neck. ''You wound me, my love."

©yup-thats-me;⋆₊˚reqs are open𐙚⋆.˚

[airaviity]

ᅟ ⋆ · COGNAC ⋆ QUEEN · ⋆

after an eventful night with boring conversations, inconvenient men and a deadbeat dad, all you want to do is get drunk and forget it all. thankfully, your dad's best friend, choi san, is always eager to help in case you get sick. now tipsy and bolder, you might as well shoot your shot.

pairing: dad's best friend!choi san x fem!reader

genre: smut with plot.

warnings: SMUT! MDNI!!! age gap (san is 42, reader in her early 20s); intox kink kinda (san handfeeds her liquor); oral sex (f receiving); fingering; p in v; unprotected sex (boo gross); tipsy, but consented sex; sweet talk; praising; cursing; san uses 1 (one) degrading term; creampie. 😋

a/n: heeeyyyyy 😝😝😝 sorry for the delay i was enjoying my work break lollz 🤞🤞 hope you like it as much as i enjoyed writing it. love you, stay safe! <33

taglist form. spotify playlist. divider.

the first glass of cognac made you frown slightly. san's hand under your chin made sure to capture and wipe every droplet of the ridiculously expensive liquid that dripped down the crystal glass he held against your parted lips, whispering sweet praises at you. you knew exactly how you got into this situation, exactly how you got your father's best friend hand feeding you the well-aged liquor on his equally ridiculously expensive couch, inside his ridiculously expensive condo.

it had been a rough night. being the daughter of a CEO wasn't easy, especially when those so-called investors would follow after you like puppies in charity events like that. "suitors", as your father would call them. you hated every single one of them. the polite ones, the flirty ones, the witty ones. especially the entitled ones, acting as if they had the right to court you just because they had big money playing in your father's bank account. but that's not how the band plays, is it? after all, you had your eyes on only one man. a real man, not a boy like those who'd complain about you being inaccessible. a Man. Choi San. your dad's best friend. the man that saw you grow up, saw you sprouting into a beautiful, confident woman. the man that spoiled you rotten, even now in your early twenties. buying new cars whenever yours broke. new phones if he ever saw your old ones slightly glitching, new apartments, new clothes, new makeup. everything, in the palm of your hand while he still treated you like a princess.

so there you were. after a night of being yelled at in public by your father, being followed around by inconvenient men, and unmasking your father’s multiple mistresses, you found yourself in a position you could only see in your dreams.

the gucci black dress bundled in the middle of your parted thighs, giving the older man enough space to be kneeled in between them. the compromising position was just another excuse he gave to be closer, and you knew it. and went with it.

“that's it, good girl,” he whispered as you swallowed the last drops of the golden liquor. it was the third glass, and you were starting to feel dizzy, head starting to reel.

“don’t call me that,” you mumbled back, a small pout taking your lips. you always got needy when you drank, it wasn't news for you. it was for san, though, who had never seen you in that state. tipsy, blushing and turning into mush under his sharp, but still warm gaze.

“why not, princess? i’ve always called you that, i didn't know you had a problem with it,” his voice was sincere, worried. he didn't want to push any limits, didn't want you to be uncomfortable. missing all the signs of the lust that took over your body with each drink, san was still the perfect gentleman even when you just wanted him to eat you alive.

“i’m not a girl anymore,” you slurred out an excuse, avoiding his concerned gaze.

“to me, you are,” he said back in his gentle voice, thumb brushing against your bottom lip sticking out, poking the plump flesh with his ringed finger, “my good, sweet girl.”

you felt your pussy throb. fuck. fucking hell, you needed him. needed him to do unspeakable things to you. there and then, on that expensive leather couch. you weighed the options, looking down at the way his tie hung loose around his neck, the black silk tie with the pink pinstripe pattern you had gotten him for Christmas calling your name like the Green Goblin mask. it was all too much for you, the taste of alcohol on your lips and his breath fanning over your cheeks. good god. fuck it. you had to make a move before he moved away.

with a deep breath, you gathered the courage the golden liquor poured down your throat and finally spoke up, “but i don’t want to be your little girl anymore,” your voice was firmer, even if dragged through your lips, “i’m tired of being your little girl. i’m a woman now.”

you looked up at his face through your lashes, watching the way he watched you. sharp, cat-like eyes focused on your features. you thought he didn’t, but he noticed everything. every caught breath, every stolen glance, every lick of your lips. he noticed every time you stared at his hands for too long. every time you found an excuse to touch him. every single time you pressed your thighs together when he spoke at a meeting. how you avoided meeting his gaze sometimes. even just now, he noticed the way your hands shook, the way you bit your lip, the way you still avoided his gaze. it was exhilarating, honestly. he prayed for it not to be something out of his mind, and you had just handed him the perfect confirmation on a silver platter.

“you're a woman, indeed,” he breathed out, eyes dropping to your lips before coming back to meet your gaze, “you want me to treat you as any woman, princess?” he asked, his voice alluring in your tipsy brain.

“no, i-” you interrupted him, but he took the reign back before you could finish.

“or do you want me to treat you as my woman?” his voice was calm, hands sliding from your face to your arms, then your legs, resting on your thighs.

your head reeled with his words, your skin burning with his touch, speechless as you looked at him. “come on now, sweetheart. where’s that smart mouth, hm?”

you mumbled something that even yourself couldn’t figure out, averting from his gaze as if it was a reflection of your own desires. you opened your mouth to speak once, twice, three times, but it never came out properly.

“use your words, baby, i know you can,” he encouraged, thumbs brushing lightly against your inner thighs, “use your big girl words.”

you strangled a moan in the back of your throat, taking a deep breath in before you spoke, “i want you to treat me as your woman, sannie. please.”

“good girl,” he whispered, downing the whiskey you didn’t even notice he poured for himself. and again, before you could process, his lips were pressing against yours, hands cradling your face. he tasted like alcohol and mint and desperation, the kiss drowning you in all the yearning from both sides.

you sighed heavily, hands sliding over his arms, pressing against his biceps as you’ve been wanting to do for a while. with a courage you didn’t know you had, you slid his suit jacket down his arms, not breaking the kiss as the piece was thrown somewhere in the room, desperate hands loosening and untying his tie only to hang it around your own neck.

he finally parted the kiss, taking off his glasses so he could properly trail soft pecks down your jaw to your neck and shoulders, strong hands roaming your body like uncharted territory, testing the pressure, the softness, the grip. everything he needed to know to pleasure you, his sweet, perfect, golden girl.

“sannie…” your voice came as a whine as he kneeled again, lips pressing against your inner thighs, hands pushing the dress up until it crumpled at your waist. pulling you closer, san rested your legs on his shoulders, looking up with a hunger unfamiliar to you.

“i know, sweetheart,” he mumbled, trailing the kisses closer and closer to your groin, “just let me make you feel good, hm?” he placed a kiss against your clothed cunt, tongue pressing against your clit through the fabric. a moan escaped your lips, breath shuddering as he kept licking, making a mess of your already damp panties. gripping his hair, you pushed his head closer to you, whimpering sweet pleas until you got what you wanted — san to push your panties to the side, tongue directly pressing against your sensitive bud, sucking and blowing on it, making you shudder and moan underneath his touch.

your hips buckled up, trying to get more friction, more contact, anything. you needed more, wanted more. san held your hips down, stilling your movements as he dove into your wet cunt, tongue pushing inside, eating you out like a starved man being introduced to his last meal on earth. he moved deliberatedly, precisely, with years of practice. you understood now why his ex wife couldn’t keep away from him. with your head thrown back and mouth hanging open with pouring sounds of pleasure, you felt that sweet wave of pleasure overtaking your senses, the first orgasm of the night washing over you like a tsunami, with san drinking every drop of your release like liquid gold. he let you go after your breath finally calmed, chest heaving with your juices coating his chin and the tip of his nose.

he studied your features, watching the way your lip trembled, the way your cheeks flushed and small droplets of sweat started to form on your forehead. he smiled, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheekbones. “how are you feeling, pretty girl?”

you finally managed to look at him, his eyes shining towards you with lust and care, genuine love pouring from them. you smiled back, giggling softly. “really good,” you said, fixing your position on the couch, “what about you?”

“really good too,” he said, pressing more kisses to the side of your face, “but i think that’s not enough for my woman.” his voice was raspy, alluring like a siren, earning a low moan out of you.

“isn’t it?” you breathed out, watching him closely as his hand sneaked to your back, finding the zipper of the dress. he didn’t answer verbally, only shaking his head.

“can i?” he whispered, slowly pushing the zipper down as you nodded in confirmation. soon enough the dress was somewhere on the floor, panties still pushed to the side, breasts free from the enclosure of the tight dress. he felt his mouth salivating, cock throbbing in his pants. “you're perfect. so beautiful, my sweet girl.”

he took your hand, kissing your knuckles as he brought you up, guiding you towards the master bedroom, full glass walls giving you a perfect view of the busy city under you two. laying you on the bed, san made his mind that no other view would ever compare to you. unbuttoning his shirt and unbuckling his belt, his eyes never left yours, a silence so loud you swore he could hear the way your heart pounded on your chest.

with only his boxers keeping you separated, san crawled on the bed to you, trailing kisses up your calves to your thighs, then your hips, belly and waist, capturing a nipple in his lips and testing the way you reacted, the way your breath hitched. he sucked harder, hungrier, your reactions leaving him nothing but eager for more. his left hand found your free tit, squeezing with contained strength, playing with the already perky nipple. he pressed his hips against yours, his clothed bulge grinding against your covered cunt and making you moan.

“san, please,” you moaned, legs parting further to better accomodate him, “i need you.”

“as i said earlier, love. you have to use your big girl words. aren't you a woman now?” he teased, breath fanning your collarbones. you whined. spoiled, always used to get what you want. you didn't want to ask for it again. “c’mon, baby, i know you can do it again.”

he pushed, hips pressing harder against yours. you moaned louder, “p-please. sannie, i need you to fuck me. fuck me as your woman.”

“there you go,” he mumbled against your skin, placing a lovebite on your shoulder as his hands explored you body, hooking the edge of yout panties and pulling them down, doing the same to his own underwear. now free of any fabric, you could see clearly. he was big. thick and long, red tip throbbing in desperation, dripping pre cum on the expensive silk sheets. “you want it?” his voice was low in a way you didn't recognize, sultry, provocative.

“yes! yes, i want it. please, sannie, i want it so much,” you almost cried, buckling your hips up to try and meet his, “please. please, sannie, i need it.”

“fuck,” he growled, rubbing his tip on your clit, slapping it there and watching your wetness mix together, “you're so gorgeous. every single part of you.”

he forced his glans against your slit, capturing your arousal before slipping inside you. slowly, centimeter by centimeter, hands steady on your hips, thumbs tracing invisible patterns on your skin. he took his time, filling you to the brim, bottoming out on you with that furrowed brow you knew he only got when he was focused in something, “shh, shh, shh, baby, it's okay,” he cooed as your back arched and your moans dragged, “take your time. i'm here.”

you took deep breaths, feeling him inside you, clenching your walls around him, eyes focused on his. he was a goner, of course. fuck, your pussy felt so good. so tight. a nod was all that it took for him to start moving, deep and slow at first, earnings gasps and mewls that fell from you lips. your well-done nails carved his biceps at each thrust, dragging and scratching his skin as he got bolder, faster. he quickly picked up the pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin getting louder at the same time your moans got higher, nails clenching and dragging on his back to make those perfect red lines that would last for weeks.

“good fucking god,” he moaned, hands snaking up to grab your tits, squeezing as he kept pouncing on you like a predator, “you're such a nasty girl. such a nasty fucking girl, letting me fuck you like this.”

you whined, back arching as he hit that perfect spongy spot again and again and again inside you, your whole body shivering with the strength of an upcoming orgasm.

“are you going to cum for me, pretty girl? hm? you gonna cum for me?” he mumbled in your ear, slowing his thrusts and kissing your jaw as you whimpered in complaint, “answer me.”

“yes,” you moaned out, nodding and whining, hips moving in desperation for more of him, chasing that sweet release, “yes, please. please!” you echoed those two words again and again, a satisfied smirk taking place on his lips.

“then cum for me, baby,” he growled in your ear, hips moving fiercely, knocking the air out of your lungs with an earth shattering orgasm, the only breath you had left used to scream his name and more begging.

“there we go,” he groaned, not slowing down a bit, even though his thrusts became erratic, sloppier. he almost, almost, pulled out, but you were faster. looking up at him with pleading eyes, hazy and lustful.

“don't pull out,” you managed to say in between overstimulated moans, legs wrapping around his waist again, keeping him in place. he couldn't fucking take it anymore. with a few more thrusts, san was buried deep inside you, making sure not a single drop of cum would land outside your perfect pussy.

after a minute of heavy breaths and calming down, san slowly pulled out, cum dripping down your thighs. as a gentleman he is, choi was quick to clean you up, gathering the oozing cum with his fingers and stuffing it back inside you, making your legs shake with each pump of his fingers. “nice and full. so pretty,” he murmured, kissing your inner thighs and trailing up to your lips, placing a gentle kiss there.

“you okay?” he asked, breath mingling with yours.

“yeah,” you nodded, feeling as sober as it could be, “are you?"

“i'm perfect, my darling,” he laid by your side, bringing you to lay on top of him, “better now.”

“we should get drunk more often,” you said, a playful undertone on you voice as your fingertips traced patterns on his chest. he laughed, hands caressing your sides.

“we should, yes,” he echoed your earlier nod, a playful smile on your lips as he kissed you, “but i’d rather be sober to be with you.”

tw jumpscare: sex 👻

taglist: @irsmaxle @eixila @kyeos4ng @parakisss @atztrsr @life-is-a-game-of-thrones @innocygnet @juicyjaxxy @svzllts @sasaloveshj @jinternationalplayboy @stargirl-mayaa @hongjoongsshawty @posseup @sanyunho @chartrucewhore @elfemi98 @nopension @victoriarara @maisea23 @crimsonbubble

[airaviity]

Sugar and Smoke

This is part 2 of Moonshine Peaches.

Country Dilf!Choi San x F!Reader

summary: he had been teasing you all week since that night together in the kitchen. your best friend is still oblivious, and both of you are craving more than you'd like to be honest about. lingering touches here, filthy whispers there. but once he finally gets you alone again, he'll make sure the whole forest hears you screaming his name.

warnings: age gap, best friend's dad, southern accent, author's ultimate fantasy(FUCKIN IN THE WOODS HELL YEAH), pet names, (peaches, sweetheart, baby etc.) teasing, tension, dom san, bickering, fingering, oral(f!recieving), multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (BOOOO) San is down BAD, bondage, aftercare, secret relationship

wc: 10.9k (oof)

notes: you guys loved moonshine peaches so much, and requested a second part, so here it is to wrap it up. i hope you like it <3 also wth, thank you for 500 followers in such a short amount of time?! all your love and support means the world to me and im glad i can tickle that fangirl itch for you guys. (also srry about the wc, i got a little carried away..)

tracklist: shameless, moments silence, freak

ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀᴘᴘʀᴇᴄɪᴀᴛᴇᴅ!

It cannot happen again. It was a severe lapse in your moral compass, and you cannot let it happen again. For both of your sakes. 

But he was making it so fucking hard.

It's been days since that night with San, and you were sure he was doing everything in his power to make your life a living hell. You were here for one more day before it was time to drive back to the city. Arin had done her very best to make this a relaxing and fun trip for you. Swimming at the lake, picnics at the edge of the forest, bird watching, and cookouts by the fire. You genuinely had a great time, as long as San was somewhere else.

You couldn’t handle it when he was in the same room as you, and he could see it all over your body. He was always watching you, smiling at you. You were bewildered that Arin hadn’t noticed her dad’s strange behavior, and at the same time, plenty grateful. You had no idea how you would explain the situation between you two. But it seemed like San didn’t care if she knew, because he was ultimately less than subtle.

The other day, you were all having dinner in the dining room, some amazing southern cooking San had whipped up. You were sitting at the end of the table, Arin sat to your left, and San sat to your right.

“Oh my god, Dad, if I didn’t miss you, I surely did miss your cooking,” Arin exclaimed around a mouthful of food. San raised an eyebrow and tossed a napkin at her.

“Didn’t I teach you manners, Arin?” he glowered, ripping a piece of bread in half to slather it in butter.

“No, Mom did, and you always told me in that grump voice you have,” Arin furrowed her brow and twisted her face into a disgusted expression to mock her father. “Don’t listen to your mother, she doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

San laughed, loud, smacking a hand on the table, causing the whole thing to shake. “That's because she didn’t know what she was talkin’ about! She insisted on silverware havin’ designated spots on the damn table. And don’t even get me started, ‘Elbows off the table, San.” Woman, if these ribs are gonna get eaten, I’m gonna have to use my elbows to dig in there.”

Arin looked over at you, “See, and he tried to take credit for teaching me manners, he didn’t teach me shit.”

“I taught you how to change a tire and not to take no shit from boys. And look at you now, my girl's got herself covered, don’t you?” Arin rolled her eyes and smiled softly.

“Yeah, yeah, I guess.” The fondness in her voice was impossible to mask. You could tell they truly did care for each other in a gut-wrenching way. It was so sweet to see them interact, like best friends almost. The way San looked at her so fondly, and Arin at him in turn. You felt a smile creeping on your face as you watched them continue to bicker and reminisce at the table. 

“So how’s the food, peaches? Good, right?” You blinked and turned to look at San, whose gaze was now focused on you.

You smiled, tearing off a piece of your bread to nibble on it. “It's pretty damn good, I didn’t realize how much I was missing out.” Arin grinned and smacked your shoulder.

“See, what’d I tell you? I always told her back at campus how she would love the food you make, and look at her now.” Arin stuffed her mouth full of collard greens. She started to go on about her childhood, her favorite snacks, and whatnot, when you felt a warm, calloused hand brush over your upper thigh underneath the dining room table.

Your body tensed as you remained calm, keeping your eyes on Arin as she spoke, a strained smile on your face. You turned to quickly glance at San, and he was the picture of ease. Soft smile, nodding along as his daughter spoke, as he gently caressed your thigh like you all weren't having dinner together.

His hand slipped up underneath your shirt, massaging your lower stomach. Warmth bloomed in your belly as his hand rubbed your abdomen before falling from under your shirt and back on your thigh.

“Are you good?” Arin asked. You must have dropped your smile because Arin looked at you, confused.

You shook your head and smiled, “Yeah! Sorry, I’m fine. I think I’m just getting full.” San’s hand squeezed your thigh one last time before slipping away. You let out a small breath, grateful that he had at least realized that maybe right now wasn’t the best time.

“Oh, alright, anyway. If you’re done eating, you can go ahead and shower if you want. Tomorrow morning, Dad and I are gonna go run the hounds if you wanna come with us?”

Arin had explained to you not too long ago that her dad had hunting dogs, and when they didn't want to do a fleshed-out hunt, they’d simply just let the hounds turn loose in the woods to see if they could sniff out any deer. It sounded nice because you could just hang back and enjoy a quiet walk in the woods while Arin and San took care of the dogs; it's not like you knew anything about that kind of thing.

“Yeah, sure, sounds fun. I’m gonna go take a shower then, goodnight. Thank you for dinner, Mr. Choi.” You pushed your chair back and stood up, gathering your plate and setting it in the sink. San watched as you walked, eyes lingering on the curves of your body and the slope of your neck, admiring you and the way you moved.

“Of course, sweetheart, any time.” His stupid, honey-dripped voice, that made your belly do flips and your head fog.

“Alright, night, see you in bed,” Arin responded, taking a sip from her can of beer.

“Night, Peaches, see you in the mornin’.” San’s voice rang in your head as you turned to walk down the hallway up to your room. You paused for only a second before replying curtly.

“Goodnight, Mr. Choi.” You walked away, the wooden floorboards creaking underneath your soft footsteps.

“She’s a hard one to crack, ain’t she?” San said to Arin, once you were out of earshot. Arin shrugged.

“She’s always been a bit shy, I guess. Always keeps to herself, never really goes out of her way when it comes to new people. I try to get her to come out with me to parties and stuff, but she always insists on staying in the dorm. I kinda feel bad for her, I’m pretty sure she hasn’t even had a boyfriend yet, I mean she’s never brought one up to me before…”

Oh? The gears in San’s brain were turning. “Sounds like she’s a homebody, huh?”

“A little.. But I don’t mean it in like a bad way! She's a wonderful girl, always been so sweet and so supportive, I could never ask for a better friend. I just wish she’d branch out a little more. For her sake, y’know?” Arin took another sip of her beer before narrowing her eyes at San.

“You better not scare her off, Dad, she’s the best I got. Do NOT make her go fishing for crawfish while she’s down here. She’ll start hating us both when she repeatedly gets pinched.”

San laughed and took his daughter’s hands in his, gently rubbing his thumbs over Arin’s knuckles.

“I’m not gonna scare her off, honey, okay? I know how much she means to you. It warms my heart to see that you have somebody that you can rely on so much when you’re not home with me. I’m glad she’s taking care of you. Consider that my stamp of approval.” San hadn’t said it to you yet, but he was quite fond of you. His daughter was right, you were soft and sweet, helpful and loving. He was so glad you had swooped up his little girl and helped her through her way in the city.

Arin pulled her dad into a warm hug. “Ugh, I hate when you’re sappy.” San kissed the crown of her head, rubbing her back gently.

“You love it.” He chuckled before pulling back and standing up to gather the plates. “You helpin’ me clean up or what?”

Arin gaped and crossed her arms. “Was that just a ploy to butter me up so I help you with chores?”

San smirked, shrugging his shoulders. “I guess we’ll never know,” he turned to the sink.

“Oh, another thing, (Name) asked me why you call her Peaches the other day. I apparently forgot to tell her that you give people nicknames like that. But I was wondering, why specifically peaches?” Arin gathered up the leftovers and started to store them away, and San ran some warm, soapy water in the sink, grinning to himself at the thought of you, a blushing mess over a silly little nickname he had for you.

“Nothing in particular, it just comes naturally, you know how nicknames are.” This seemed good enough for Arin, so she dropped the subject, opting to tell San some more stories from college, your name being mentioned more times than he could count.

He loved hearing about you, your name, your hobbies, what you liked, and what you didn’t like. Your silly habits and your pet peeves. His daughter seemed to know you like the back of her hand. So he cleaned and listened to Arin drone on, asking questions here and there, intent and learning everything and anything he could about you.

After a well-rested night, Arin shook you awake in the early morning, urging you to wake up.

“C’mon, sleepyhead, we gotta be out of here by 4.” You groggily forced your eyes open and glared at her like she had 3 heads.

“4..? AM?” you groaned.

Arin nodded, “We gotta be outta here before the sunrises, silly. It's just how Dad likes to do it.” You groaned and ripped the comforter off your body, planting your feet on the ground to get ready.

The air was comfortably chill, and the sun wasn’t quite out yet. A few lamp poles littered around the property provided little light to illuminate the land, but beyond the tree line, it was nothing but pitch black darkness.

San was standing outside by the fire pit, 4 decent-sized foxhounds leaped and bounded around his feet, sniffing the ground and panting excitedly. He waved both of you over, smiling brightly.

“C’mon, ladies, look alive. The coyotes will eat you alive if they smell that exhaustion on you.” You perked up at that, the tiredness seeming to drain from your body as you were now on high alert.

Arin groaned and glared at her dad. “Dad, stop that. You’re gonna scare her. (Name) He's just being mean, pay him no mind.”

San laughed at turns and began walking to the edge of the yard, whistling loudly to encourage the dogs to follow him. “Hey, it woke her up, though. I was doing her a favor.”

You narrowed your eyes at the back of San’s neck. You turned to whisper to Arin. “I’ll kill him if he scares me like that again.”

“Be my guest,” she drawled, and you both laughed.

“I hope you girls aren't making fun of me again. It's not very nice to tease your elders.” San stopped at the edge of the dark wood, 

“It's not very nice to scare my friend's Dad.” Arin shot back, picking up a small rock and tossing it at San’s back. At the edge of the woods, a small box sat on the ground right before a dirt path that led further into the trees.

He leaned down and creaked it open, grabbing 3 flashlights. “Here you are, the sun’ll rise soon enough, but until then you’ll wanna use these.” He handed you both a flashlight.

“We’re not actually lookin’ for any deer today, I just wanna turn the dogs loose for a little so they can stretch their legs. It's also nice to just go on walks in the woods before it gets too hot.” The crisp morning air did feel rather nice, and the birds sang softly within the treeline.

You clicked your flashlights on. “Now, be sure to follow me,” San stated, his tone all serious. “Stay on the trail, and try not to step on any snakes.” You swallowed.

“Dad,” Arin deadpanned.

“What? I’m being serious, Arin. You know there are snakes around here.” San’s face had no hint of amusement on it, arms crossed as he looked you both over.

Arin winced and turned to look at you. “I mean, he’s not wrong there, but I promise it's nothing to worry about.”

Your face twisted into a mocking look, sarcasm dripping from your words. “Oh, I’m sure.”

When you began the journey into the woods, you couldn’t deny that you were tensed up and a little paranoid. The forest was by no means quiet; bugs sang, and the birds screeched, the loud sound of underbrush crunching beneath your feet as you all walked down the path echoed off tree trunks. Occasionally, San whistled when the dogs ran off too far, to which they quickly returned to his side before he turned them loose again.

Your eyes were glued to San’s back as Arin talked your ear off, walking beside you, with San chiming in with his own thoughts here and there. Once the sun started to rise and peek through the canopy of leaves, your worries eased slightly, and the more you could see as you walked.

Eventually, you all abandoned the flashlights and listened to the birds sing softly, admiring the way the sunrise bled through the tree line and decorated the green forest floor in stunning murals of yellow.

You were relaxed now, breathing in the fresh air and embracing the sound of nature and the wildlife, the gentle breeze rustling the leaves, making it almost sound like you were walking along the beach.

By this time, everyone had fallen silent, too busy basking in the relaxing sound of the forest as they walked. No sounds of rushing cars, no loud horns, and angry pedestrians. No loud college students partying in nearby dorms.

Just pure, tranquil peace.

You had been walking for about an hour when San craned his head back, smiling when his gaze fell on you both, faces calm and content, relaxed within the green of the forest.

“Doin' alright back there, girls?” San’s soft voice cut through the silence, checking on you both.

“Better than alright,” you responded without really thinking. “It's so pretty out here.” San smiled to himself, happy that you were enjoying yourself so much.

“Well, this trail loops around, so soon we’ll be making our way back to the house. Arin, wanna help me round up the dogs?”

Arin nodded, walking faster to stride past her dad. 

“Here!” she called into the woods, venturing off the trail in search of the dogs, whistling the further she walked.

“Won’t she get lost?” You asked, worried, walking faster to fall in step next to San.

“Nah, she knows these woods almost as well as I do. She’ll be alright.” He smiled reassuringly. He looked down at you, his gaze locking with yours. The sun casts beautiful patterns on your skin, the gentle breeze tousles your hair, frizzing it up slightly. Your plush lips formed into a soft pout as you tried to read San’s eyes, trying to pinpoint what he was thinking. Your eyes were glassy, lashes fluttering every time you blinked. Like a doe. You looked so calm, so pretty.

San cleared his throat, turning to look forward and continue walking, whistling a couple more times and calling for the dogs once again. Arin was nowhere to be seen, and it was just you and San.

“So, peaches, tell me.” You ripped your gaze away when you realized you had been staring at his neck, admiring how strong it looked, and the vein that ran up the side like a river.

“Are you avoiding me?” He knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it from you. You sighed, fiddling with your fingers behind your back, keeping your eyes glued to the forest floor as you walked.

“Mr. Choi, I’m sure you know the answer,” you replied softly, your voice small.

San’s jaw ticked, and he huffed out of his nose like a frustrated bull.

“Well, sweetheart, why don’t you tell me why, huh? Ya scared of me or something?” San continued walking, keeping his eyes glued to the trail ahead, refusing to look at you.

You were suddenly too aware of your racing heartbeat, and the embarrassment of how your voice shook, only slightly, and the stupid way you felt your stomach clench in what could only be anticipation.

“I told you already, I’m not afraid of you. You’re just… my best friend’s… dad….” You trailed off like you were piecing something together that you already knew. Like your moral compass was readjusting to the right direction.

“And?” San asked simply, like it wasn’t an incredulous thought. Your eyes widened at his nonchalance. He spoke fleetingly of what you both did, like it was nothing but another passing day, another silly encounter, like it couldn’t rip families apart. “What does it matter to you?”

Your eye twitched slightly, a bit annoyed by the carelessness of his words.

“Do I really have to spell it out?” You grumbled, kicking a rock and watching it fly down the path and off into the plush green forest floor.

“I’m listenin’, honey.” He replied simply, a smile in his voice as he teased, clearly enjoying ticking you off. “Love hearin’ you talk, y’know.” Your heart leaped, and you wanted to kick yourself for feeling this way.

“What would Arin do if she found out? She’d hate us both.” You were doing everything in your power to be the driving voice of reason here, but San wasn’t having it. 

“You liked it, though,” San replied, missing the point entirely. “What’s wrong with a little indulgence?”

 You huffed, frustration seeping into your bones and tensing your muscles. You were getting a headache. It doesn’t matter that it was… phenomenal in all honesty. You wouldn’t tell him that, though; it’d only help his case.

You needed to put a foot down.

Continuing to walk, keeping your eyes forward and your tone somewhat harsh, picking up another rock and throwing it down the path. “I hope you know what happened… Between us… It can’t happen again. It wasn’t right, Mr-”

Quick, before you could even utter one more word, San had whipped his body around, snatching you up. Large hands enveloped either side of your waist and lifted your back against the closest tree. You gasped, breath knocked from your lungs as he pressed his firm body against yours, holding you against the rough bark. Your legs instinctively wrapped around him, and his lips crashed into yours just as you were able to catch your breath, stealing the oxygen from your lungs in a deep, cannibalistic kiss.

He groaned against your lips, slowly grinding his hips between your spread legs, his hands sliding to hook underneath your thighs and haul you further up the tree, devouring your mouth like an animal.

“God fucking dammit (Name), when are you gonna drop the honorifics, huh?” He growled against your lips, nipping at the soft skin, hands wandering up and down your meaty thighs. He was pressed impossibly close to your body, like he was trying to melt into you.

“I’ve been inside you, baby. Do you need a reminder?” he groaned against your lips, feeling as your hands cupped the back of his neck to hold yourself upright against the tree, the rough bark digging into the thin skin of your shoulder blades. “How the other night I had you under me, writhing and moaning my name like a needy slut, huh? I’d be more than happy to jog your memory.”

Your back arched against the tree as he dipped his head to press wet kisses against your collarbone and all over your chest, where your tank top exposed your smooth skin. “S-San…!” you mewled, gasping when he rolled his hips at just the right angle, the fabric of his jeans just barely catching your clothed clit.

“Yeah, there we go,” relishing in how melodic his name sounded when you said it with your pretty voice. “Atta girl.” 

He trailed kisses up your neck, along your jaw until he was back on your mouth, swallowing your soft noises up with hungry, open-mouthed kisses, wet, sloppy, lustful. 

“Who gives a fuck if it's wrong. That's why it felt so good. Why it feels so fucking good.” He moaned into your mouth, and your head felt dizzy. The forest melted away, and all you could hear was San’s heavy breaths and needy groans. All you could feel was his soft lips and his warm body pressed against yours. His huge hands squeezing your thighs and claiming you as his.

He pulled away from your kiss swollen lips, eyes hazy and half lidded as he gazed at you, his thumbs caressing your trembling thighs as he kept you against the tree.

“So beautiful…” he muttered, biting his bottom lip and swiping his tongue against it like he was trying to catch the taste of you lingering on his lips.

San was in deep, deeper than he’d like to admit. Since that night, he couldn’t keep his eyes off you, and every time you were in the room, he had to physically restrain himself from touching you. He loved the musical ring of your cute laugh and your tender eyes when you smiled at his jokes, the way you argued with him through giggles and playful fights whenever he gave you a hard time. You were everything his ex-wife wasn’t. Fun, easy-going, full of life. 

He was still a bit at war with himself when it came to your dynamic. You were right. This was wrong. This couldn’t be something that happened. But that couldn’t stop that feeling in his chest that made him want to give you the world.

He assumed that after all this time, hearing these stories about you from his beloved daughter painted this perfect picture of you in his head, and finally meeting you only rectified that image. He wanted to take you out on the water, he wanted to wake up next to you on a weekend, well late into the morning, make you coffee, and live a calm domestic life with you. Take care of yourself like you deserve.

That also meant he wanted to lie you down every night and mold his shape into your pliant body, and show you that these boys who slept around your college campus like it was a competition were nothing compared to what he could give you. It broke his heart when you avoided him, but when he finally did get some time with you, it was always worth it to hear you laugh and see your smile.

He gently set you down, only to keep one hand on your left thigh, hiking your leg up, spreading you open as he kept you pressed against the tree trunk.

“Wait, San!” you gasped, but his other hand ghosted down the front of your body until his fingers dipped past the waistband of your shorts, past the soft barrier of your underwear. His thick fingers softly pressed against your clit, dragging down the slip between your pussy lips.

“Fucking soaked,” he groaned, like it hurt. He swallowed your lips in another kiss as he gathered your slick on his thick fingers, teasing your entrance. Parting his lips against yours and gasping at the same time as you, he slipped his fingers into you, grinning into an open-mouthed kiss at the way your brows knit in pleasure, and your head fell back against the tree, as you felt his fingers curl inside of you, the pressure mind-numbingly delicious.

“All that talk about wanting to be good, wanting to do the right thing, and here you are, soaking my fingers, moaning like a bad girl.” He pulled away from your lips to lean into your ear.

“Can’t fool me, peaches,” he whispered, kissing below your ear.  “I know how much you love this.” Your back arched at his soft voice, his fingers massaging your G-spot so roughly that your eyes were watering and your legs were shaking.

“Please, fuck, San-!”

“Please what, baby?” He mocked your whining, only pressing his fingers deeper into you, smiling when your breath caught in your throat and your fingers gripped the hair at the nape of his neck to ground yourself.

“I bet you wanna cum don’t you, is that it?” You gnawed your bottom lip, nodding frantically as your eyes rolled into the back of your head.

“God, you give in so easily, it's adorable.” You were so close, your cunt clenched around his fingers, and you breathed heavily against his neck.

“San… m close..” you whimpered. San kissed up the side of your neck, slipping his thumb up to rub tight circles on your aching clit.

“Yeah, already?” he whispered, absolutely enamoured with your beautiful, breathy moans and the softness of your skin. “Fuck you’re incredible.”

Footsteps. The familiar sound of leaves crunching under shoes hit your ears, and your body went rigid.

“San!” you whispered, and he had heard it too. Quickly, he slipped his fingers out of you and pushed his body off of you, putting ample distance between you two. Quickly, you tried to fix your hair and make yourself look like you weren't getting the shit fingered out of you in broad daylight.

Arin emerged from the forest, walking onto the path, all 4 dogs in tow behind her.

“Hey ya’ll. Sorry that it took so long. Ranger here wanted to wander off farther than he should have,” she gestured to the smaller hound in the back, who was too busy licking his paw to pay her any mind. “No coyotes got you?”

San laughed and shook his head. “All good here.” Arin looked at you, waiting for your response.

“Nope!” you said a little too excitedly. “Didn’t see any.”

Arin smiled,  oblivious to the tension in the air.  She turned to start walking the trail again. “See told you Dad was just being an ass. Alright, let's hightail it outta here, I’m hungry.” The dogs followed behind her as she walked, and San followed suit. It took you a second to unglue your feet from the ground, but you started to follow.

“Dad, are you making us breakfast or what?” 

San chuckled, turning his body so he was walking backwards, now facing you as you trudged behind them. “Of course, I can't leave my girls hungry.” Without breaking eye contact, San slipped the fingers he fucked you with into his mouth, sucking your wetness off of them, lidded eyes staring into your soul until they were clean. He stuck out his tongue and slid his fingers down the length of it, making a show as he licked them clean before turning back around to walk forward on the trail again.

“Got fucking tree sap on my fingers.” He grumbled, leaving you to think about what he just did, thoughts clouded, and his heart racing 1000 miles a minute.

“Maybe if you didn’t wander off the trail, you wouldn’t get so dirty.” Arin scolded.

“I know, no need to scold me, that’s my job,” San responded, craning his head back at you, sending a sly wink your way.

Fuck.

You were leaving tomorrow morning. A week of relaxation, fun, and pure fucking stress. You were ready to leave. Were you?

You lay on Arin’s bed, phone resting on your chest as you stared at the ceiling, a million thoughts clouding your head. Back home to work, school, and mundane everyday life. Surrounded by boring grey buildings and miles and miles of endless pavement, the concrete jungle.

It was beautiful out here, a wonderful change of scenery that you desperately needed. But Arin’s dad had nearly spiraled you into multiple heart attacks, and you weren’t sure how much more you could handle his antics.

The pair was outside playing a few games of horseshoe in the backyard. The sun was getting close to beginning to set. They invited you to come with them, but you insisted you’d join them later, saying you had a headache.

Which wasn’t exactly a lie. You didn’t know if you could act normally with San around, especially after what happened in the woods the other day. Arin almost caught you two.

It's been a few days since, and San seems to be avoiding you now, too. He wasn’t putting in as much effort as you were, but it definitely felt like you were seeing less of him. He’d walk through the living room on occasion, wave a curt hello before disappearing for the rest of the day.

“What's your Dad do up here by himself all the time anyway?” You had asked, huddled next to Erin as you watched a movie on her phone, propped against some book on the living room coffee table. You hadn’t seen San once that day, which was surprising since you had been hanging out in the house all day.

Arin shrugs, sipping her coffee that she guiltily poured a whiskey shot into. “It's not like he's lonely; he's got friends at the hunting club down the mountain and stuff. He told me that while we were down here, though he wouldn't leave the property, so I guess he’s around here somewhere. Probably collecting wood or taking care of the dogs.”

You felt somewhat better knowing that he was actually spending his time doing something productive instead of wasting it by possibly avoiding you. Selfishly, it made you feel like he was beating you at this “game” you two were playing. Keep your hands off each other, but who’s gonna give in first?

Maybe you were just playing it by yourself, but every time he walked past, said his hello, and left once again, his eyes locked with yours, and you swore each time it was like a string connected to you two was being thinned every time you made eye contact.

That string of self-control, of dignity, that every time you looked at each other, a sharp blade nicked it, cutting it down further and further, until eventually it snaps.

You were probably just crazy, though.

You rubbed your eyes, groaning exasperatedly before swinging your legs over the edge of the bed, ready to join them outside. The sun had begun to set, and the sky was painted a stunning orange through the canopy of leaves. You walked downstairs and stepped outside, immediately breathing in the cool evening air. The birds chirped, quieter now that the day was coming to an end. You heard the clink of metal and a few groans and cheers in the distance.

You followed the sounds to the back of the house, where the two were standing off near the raging bonfire. A couple of stakes were lodged into the ground, horseshoes littered about and around, a few perfectly hooked around the stakes, but most looked like they had missed.

“What happened to you, old man? You used to be so good at this,” Arin teased, readying herself to toss another horseshoe.

San scoffed, standing off to the side, arms crossed as he watched her get ready to toss again. “I don’t know why you think you can talk, you’re no better than me, honey.” Arin only proved him right when her horseshoe landed next to the closer stake, nowhere ever close to hooking it.

“See-”

“A buh buh! Not a word.” Arin turned, a bright smile creeping onto her face when she saw you round the corner.

“Hey! Finally joining us? You can see how badly my dad sucks at horseshoes." You smiled and walked to sit on the bench by the bonfire, the orange glow of the flames illuminating the sides of your face.

“Hey, peaches,” San greeted, with a warm smile shot your way. “Why don’t you join in on the next round? We can teach ya if you don’t know how to play.” There was no harm in trying.

You stood and walked over while San ran down the way and picked up the horseshoes littered all over the ground. 

“Alright, rules.” Arin clapped her hands, pointing at the stakes in the ground. “There are two stakes, placed 40 feet apart. We each get a turn tossing the horseshoe at the stake, and the ultimate goal is to hook the horseshoe around the stake; those are called ringers. If your shoe lands within one horseshoe away from the stake, that can be considered one point. But ringers are worth three, which is why those are important.”

San nodded as he walked over, setting down his supply of horseshoes and handing you both one. His finger tips brushed your knuckles when he gave you yours, and you had to pretend it didn’t make your heart leap.

“Another thing, if someone’s shoe lands directly on top of a ringer that you threw, that cancels out your point. No sabotage, no playing dirty. Got that?” 

You nodded. “Sounds fun.”

“It's not fun.” Arin grinned, sticking a tongue out at her dad. “Asshole here will try to cheat no matter what he says.”

San placed a hand on his chest in mock offense, mouth dropping open in a dramatic gasp. “How dare you sully my good name. I’ve been nothing but fair to you!”

Arin rolled her eyes and took her position to throw the horseshoe. “Bullshit.” She muttered, tossing the shoe, landing pretty close to the 20-foot stake.

“Take that, gramps.” She threw her hands up in the air, and you high-fived her as she walked back to the red cooler near the fire to grab herself a beer.

“Why do you always dig at my age, hun? So rude to the man who raised you.”

“It's your biggest flaw,” Arin replied, cracking the beer open, the can hissing as the pressure released.

San laughed aloud, picking up a horseshoe and positioning himself to throw. “That’s funny, you know I don’t have any flaws.” Lining up his arm, he tossed the horseshoe, landing a ringer around the 40-foot stake. “That's what I'm talkin’ about!” He grinned, biting his bottom lip triumphantly as he turned to look at you, hands crossed against his chest, the look on his face nothing but smug.

“Ever humble much,” Arin muttered around a sip of her can, turning to have a seat on the bench to wait for her next turn.

San turned towards you. “Wanna let me teach you how to throw?”

You smiled nervously, peeling the flaking rust off the shoe. “I’m sure it's pretty self-explanatory.” San rolled his eyes and walked behind you, positioning his body behind yours. Broad and tall against your back, his arms came forward and gently gripped your forearms, positioning your arms into a pitching position.

“There's a method.” He whispered, leaning his head down so he was by your ear. The back of your neck tingled, and your skin felt warm where he held your arms.

“You’re gonna wanna pull this arm back, and most people think you pitch like a frisbee.” He gently urged your arm back, his hand sliding up to adjust the angle of your wrist. “Not quite, though. Keep your arm in line with your body, and limbs straight, then just toss.”

His presence was gone, and you felt cold in the absence of his touch. You swallowed and tossed the shoe. It landed just by the 20-foot stake, not too bad for your first pitch.

“There ya go!” San shouted, and you could practically hear the grin on his face. “Good job, peaches, you’re almost as good as me.” A warmth in your chest bloomed, and you tried everything in your power to ignore it.

Arin coughed. “I’d say she’s better than you.” You turned, unable to stop the wide smile on your face, watching as the two of them started bickering again. You were having fun.

After another hour or so of playing, you all were gathered around the fire, drinks in hand, laughing and chatting idly, listening as the crickets sang, the entire yard enveloped in darkness now that the sun had set.

Arin had ultimately taken the game, to which she spent 30 minutes alone rubbing it in San’s face. San sat and took the heat, nursing his beer and frankly ignoring her for most of her bragging.

“Done?” he deadpanned when she finally finished.

“Yeah, I guess,” Arin replied, smiling proudly. “I’ll probably tell you all about it tomorrow, too.”

Your beer was half finished, and you were starting to feel a bit sleepy.

“Well, I… unlike my passenger princess here.” Arin pointed at you, and you threw your hands up in a “what?” fashion. 

“I should probably head to bed since I’ll be driving all day tomorrow morning. See you in bed (Name)?” Arin looked over at you, and you nodded in response.

“I'll be there soon, g’night Arin.” Arin walked over and wrapped you in a sideways hug, kissing the top of your head. She walked over to San next, to whom he stood and bear hugged the oxygen out of her.

“Love you, honey,” San mumbled. “Good night, sleep well.” 

Arin waved to you both, took her beer, and walked into the darkness back around to the front of the house. Fireflies danced all around the yard, flashing bright sparkles of yellow in stark contrast against the black forest.

San glanced over at you, watching as you took in the scenery, the bonfire dancing on your skin. The moon glares brightly in the sky, and just as your eyes were skimming the edge of the woods, you saw something.

“San!” you whispered, staying very still and staring off into the dark. “A deer!”

“Huh?’’ San questioned, turning round to follow your line of sight, and lo and behold, at the edge of the forest, a deer poked its head from the darkness, one foot on the lawn.

“Oh yeah, they come out all the time, especially when it's dark.” San watched as you stood from your seat, softly beginning to creep towards the edge of the yard towards the forest.

“Peaches, what are you doing?” San mumbles, standing as he follows your figure.

“I’m gonna pet it.” You whispered. San laughed softly at your ridiculousness. 

“She’s not gonna let you pet her, they’re too skittish.” But you were already at the edge of the yard, just a few yards away from the nimble creature. Its wide dark eyes scanned your body, lifting its snout to sniff the air cautiously.

To San’s surprise, the doe didn’t move, staying in place the closer you got. You pause right where the trees began to take over the land, and the deer took a couple of steps closer to you.

San’s eyes widened as he watched, a few paces behind you, as the deer went out of its way to step closer to you. “Hey sweet thing…” You whispered gently, falling slowly to your knees to make yourself appear smaller and less threatening.

The doe sniffed the air a little more, gently lowering its head to press its snout into your outstretched hand.

“Well, I’ll be…” San muttered incredulously. You were beautiful. The doe allowed you to stroke its coarse fur, the moon shone off your hair, and cast a soft glow on your skin. San took one step closer, but it startled the doe. Her head ripped from your gentle pets and quickly turned to retreat into the woods.

“San! You scared her!” you whined, and stood, leaves crunching under your feet as you walked past the tree line, into the dark of the woods.

“Sorry! Hey, not so fast now! Where are you going?”  You walked a little further into the woods, the moon providing a little light through the canopy, illuminating the ground. After a few paces, you narrowed your eyes to peer further into the dark wood, catching one final glance of the doe.

It had stopped and turned as if to meet your gaze one last time, before bounding off into the branches. You sighed, listening as San walked up behind you.

“You can’t just wander off like that, sweetheart, especially at night,” he scolded. You weren’t really listening.

“She let me get so close; she was so pretty.” You muttered. You turned to look at San, his large form blocking the entrance to the woods, the moonlight bouncing off his skin. The faint yellow light from the house backlit his figure, and the look he was giving you.

His eyebrows furrowed, his plump bottom lip tucked between his teeth, arms crossed. You suddenly felt small next to him, and he smiled.

“Never seen a doe let someone pet them like that. Guess she really liked ya, huh?” You couldn’t help but smile.

“I guess I can say it's an honor.” Silence stretched, the crickets chirped, and a far-off owl hooted in the distance. San eye’s eyes never left yours, and suddenly, you were very aware that you were, in fact, incredibly isolated with him right now. Surrounded by nothing but trees and darkness.

“You gonna miss me when you leave?” San’s voice cut through the thick silence. He took one step closer, and you didn’t move back.

“Do you want me to say yes?” you asked, craning your neck to look up at him. His eyes softened, and his eyebrows raised.

“Do you want me to miss you?” San questioned. You were dancing around each other, not giving the other the answers they wanted. You didn’t reply for a second, and San took that moment to step even closer. This time, you stepped backward, and San only followed the further you walked back. 

“I don’t know if I should tell you that.” You replied, whimpering quietly when you felt your back hit a tree. San stood before you, looking tall and dangerous, surrounded by the darkness, and you felt your heart stop for a moment.

“What, afraid I’ll like your answer too much?” San grinned, leaning his head down, one hand lifting to tilt your chin up to lock eyes with him. “Look at me, and tell me you won’t miss this.” He leaned his head further down, his nose barely brushing yours. His hand ghosted up the side of your neck, sliding his fingers through your hair and cradling the back of your head. “Miss us. Miss me.”

You swallowed, suddenly hyper aware of how he had you backed against the tree, in the secluded night of the forest, alone. Remote. It was… exciting.

San’s free hand slipped under your shirt, gently caressing up the side of your waist, the warmth of your skin seeping into his touch. You shivered against him, your lips just brushing his so slightly as you unconsciously arched into his touch. Your eyelids fluttered, and San didn’t miss one second of your reactions.

He exhaled deeply, his hand trailing further up your torso, sliding to massage your lower back.

“What if I told you that I’d miss you so fucking much, baby.” He mumbled, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “I’d miss that laugh, your little attitude you love giving me.” Another kiss along your jaw, then one on the side of your throat. “I’d miss your sweet voice, and how it sounds when you say my name…”

Your mouth opened in a quiet whine. “San..”

The hand on the back of your head gripped your hair, tight, craning your neck upward. “Yeah, just like that.” He brushed his lips against yours, smiling when you leaned forward in an attempt to chase him. “One last time, baby.” He mumbled against you, pressing his body closer to yours, caging you against the tree.

“Give me one more night before you leave,” he nearly whined, voice so low you could feel it travel through your body. “Please.”

Your breath caught, and you nodded slowly. “Yes…”

It was all he needed. Slowly, he opened his mouth and swallowed your lips, groaning into the kiss as you melted into him. The hand in your hair slipped away to hold your hips, pressing your lower body against his as he kissed you so heavily your head pressed against the back of the tree, the bark digging into your scalp.

He tried to be slow, be gentle, and take his time with you, really savor you. But the more you moaned into his mouth and the more he tasted, the more frenzied he became. He growled against your lips, kissing you like you were the oxygen he breathed, hands tight on your hips as he held you in place.

“Fucking perfect…” he sighed into your mouth. He pulled his lips from yours, keeping his hands on your hips as he lifted your body off the ground. He crouched, laying your body down on the ground, the cold grass soft in contrast to the tough tree bark. His lips were on you again in seconds, hands roaming up and down your body, underneath your shirt and around your neck, up your arms and along your thighs.

Your back arched against the forest floor, San kissed down your neck, lifting your shirt and pulling it over your head, peppering kisses down your chest, between the valley of your breasts, over your stomach, stopping where your shorts began.

His fingers unclipped the button of your shorts, sliding them down and off your legs. He kisses along the valleys of your thighs, sucking and licking marks into the sensitive flesh.

You sighed, your hands coming down to bury your fingers in his hair.

“Want me to eat you out right here, pretty girl?” He groaned into another kiss on your thigh.

“Fuck… yes please…!” You mewled, gripping his hair harder and tugging him closer to your aching cunt. He pressed a wet, open-mouthed kiss against your clothed clit, moaning at how your wetness seemed through the thin layer of cloth. He nipped at your clit through your panties, tearing a sharp gasp from your lips.

You bit your bottom lip, stifling your pretty moans. San did not like that.

“Uh uh. Stop that.” He ripped your panties off your legs, tossing them into the consuming darkness. His hands hooked under your thighs, holding your legs up as he lay flat on his stomach, hovering his drooling mouth over your fluttering pussy.

“We’re in the middle of the woods, peaches, no need to keep your voice down. I want you to be loud for me.” Giving you no time to argue, he buried his face between your legs, eagerly slurping up your wetness sloppily, kissing your lips, and wrapping his lips around your sensitive clit, sucking and licking like crazy.

You yelped, and your hands tugged his hair hard, his groans traveling through your body, causing you to shiver against his touch. Your moans fell from your lips, loud and broken as they echoed off the trees.

“That's more like it,” San growled into your cunt, smiling every time you tugged his hair harder. “Get loud for me, baby. Nobody can hear you but me.”

San ate you like a man starved, the wet noises obscene as they echoed around the forest. He was relentless, giving you no time to breathe as he ate you out like you were the best thing he's ever tasted.

He slipped one hand from under your thigh, trailing it down to slip two fingers into your soaked pussy. You cried out, and San only continued to abuse your clit with his tongue as his fingers curled inside of you, desperate to drive you towards your orgasm.

“Feel me, baby,” San lifted his lips from your clit to press a few kisses along your inner thighs. Pressing his fingers up inside of you, giving you no mercy. He was doing everything to drag those desperate noises out of you, find those spots that made your brain go numb.

“Fuck, San… let up! Slow d-down!” you cried, hands flying down to push him away as you felt your orgasm rushing toward you at record speeds. His fingers were unabating inside you, giving you no time to even think.

“You’ll be alright, sweetheart, just take what I give you.” He growled before latching his lips back onto you, smiling when your body jerked again. “Not gonna stop until I’m done.”

You threw your head back against the forest floor, mouth hung open in pure pleasure. All you could see was the canopy leaves above you, the moon’s silver rays peaking through the blanket above the forest. All you could feel was San’s fingers inside of you, playing your body like an instrument, like he’s known you forever.

You were shameless with your moans, and you were almost worried Arin might be able to hear and think you were being mauled by a wild animal. But you didn’t care, San was making you feel so good, worrying somebody could hear you two was the last thing you could think about. All you could think about was him, his big rough hands, his thick arms, and his sinful tongue.

Your breathing stuttered when San’s fingertips repeatedly massaged against that spongy spot deep inside of you, digging your fingernails into the earth to try and prevent your soul from flying off. Dirt caked under your nails and your eyes squeezed shut, that familiar knot in your lower belly tightening by the second.

“I feel you, you’re almost there.” San keened into your pussy, growling, sending sharp vibrations through your body. “Focus, pretty baby, I’m gonna get you there, don’t worry.”

His words floated in the brisk air of the woodland, and San thought he had to be in heaven. He rolled his hips against the ground to try and ease the tight pain his hard-on was straining through his pants. He could probably just cum from hearing you cry for him.

“C-Cumming, oh my god…” You gasped, your voice already hoarse as you fought the urge to kick your legs.

San lifted his hand, pulling his lips off your swollen clit, and landed a harsh slap against your pussy, fingers still curling and coiling inside of you. You yelped, and your thighs vibrated against him as the stinging pain subsided into a buzzing pleasure.

“Not, “oh my god.” He bit out, pressing another wet kiss to your thigh. “What’s my name, peaches?”

“San..” you whined, bucking your hips as you neared closer to your climax.

“Again.” He demanded, slapping your poor cunt again, your shoulders tensing at the pain.

“San!” you moaned loudly, and he smiled.

“My good fucking girl.” He slid his fingers out of you, and just as you were about to whine in protest, he slid his arms under your thighs, hooking his arms around them and keeping a strong hold on your lower body.

Then he lifted you off the ground and flipped you over. He lay on his back, arms hooked around your thighs as you now straddled his face, nose pressed against your clit as he held your lower body down on his face so you couldn’t run away.

“Now cum on my face, baby, make a mess of me.” His voice was breathless as he slid his tongue inside of you in place of his fingers, shaking his head from side to side underneath you so his nose repeatedly nudged against your clit. Your hands flew down to plant on the ground above his head, holding your upper body up so you couldn’t fall over. 

He flipped you over so you were riding his fucking face. He was so strong, and it made your chest ache with need.

Your voice was raw, and you saw flashes of white as your orgasm crashed into you so strongly that you stopped breathing.

San tongue fucked you through, hands gently guiding your hips back and forth on his face so you could ride it out.

“H-holy shit,” you croaked, eyes rolling as you came so hard your legs immediately gave out, letting your full body weight rest on his face.

San slurped your juices up greedily, grumbling and moaning into your cunt until you were an overstimulated crying mess on top of him.

When he was finally done, your pleas for mercy caused his dick to jump in his pants. He pressed one final kiss to your clit and gently slid his hands up your body to encircle your waist, to lift you off of him. “Need to be inside you,” breathless and desperate. “Now.”

He laid your spent body back on the forest floor, lifting your left leg to rest your ankle over his shoulder. He ripped his shirt over his head, tossing it. His belt was next, unbuckling it, the loud metal clanking in your ears.

When he had it off, he wrapped it around his knuckles; his chest was gleaming with sweat, rising and falling with his heavy breaths. He looked down at you in the darkness, flushed and eyes hazy. His hair brushed over his lust-crazed eyes; he was crazy for you.

“Hands.” He commanded, and you lifted your arms, presenting your wrists to him. He wrapped the belt around your wrists, securing them together and tying it tightly so you couldn’t break free. 

“You don’t get to run from this, gorgeous,” he spoke breathlessly, slipping his pants just far enough down to free his aching cock. He was unbelievably hard, tip flushed pink and leaking an insane amount of pre as it sprang out, slapping against his stomach. You swallowed, struggling against the restraints, only then realizing he had bound you well. You really weren’t going anywhere.

He leaned over your body, pressing his lips against your neck as he lined his cock up with your cunt, his tip just barely kissing your entrance. He locked his eyes with yours, one hand secured around your calf to keep your leg over his broad shoulder,  while the other held your waist down and in place against the ground.

“Eyes on me, pretty.” He whispered against your lips. You nodded in his hold, and San pressed his lips against yours in a starved kiss. His tongue delved into your mouth, ravenous.

He slid inside of you in one rough thrust. His hips connected with yours, and you gasped into his kiss, not expecting him to push into you in one go. He chuckled against you, immediately setting a slow, deep rhythm inside of you, in stark contrast with how he entered you.

“Aww, baby, sorry. It just slipped in.” He sighed, your warm cunt hugging his cock so tight he twitched inside of you. “I’ll try to be gentler.” His tone was mocking as he rocked his hips into you, the languid drag of his cock inside of you pulling stuttering breaths from your lungs as he fucked you against the earth.

The leg he kept on his shoulder twitched in his hold every time he pushed deep into you, damn near kissing your cervix. Your eyes rolled, and the moans you were letting out were downright sinful. 

Every roll of his abdomen dragged the tip of him against your G-spot, making your back arch and your limbs shake. San’s eyes stayed glued to your body, loving how his fingers sank into your plush flesh like you were made of velvet. The moonlight cast shadows of the tree leaves against your glowing skin, branches and leaves stuck to your hair, but you had never looked so appetizing to him.

“Ahh…fuck.” He exhaled, unable to keep up the slow strokes as he pulled his hips back again and thrusted back into you harder and vigorously, buried so deep inside of you, your brain fuzzed.

Agile and precise, he fucked into you using your spent body like a toy.

“Gonna miss this pussy so bad, baby.” He grunted through clenched teeth, eyes glued to where your body sucked him in so eagerly. “Gonna miss that pretty voice, your soft skin.”

His hip stuttered when you clenched around him, his lustful praises getting to your head. “Lemme stretch you out a bit..” he gently pushed your leg closer to your body, leaning his torso further down so he could press his chest against yours, covering your body like a blanket.

The muscles in your leg burned only for a second before the piston of his cock driving inside of you was too much of a distraction to notice it. Your high-pitched whines and whimpers only spurred him on further, angling his hips, searching for the perfect angle.

“Not there?” he whined, trying another angle, his deep, targeted thrusts making your voice shake.

“San..!” you cried out, your cunt feeling bullied. He ignored you.

“Mm, fuck not here either?” One last try, angling his hips upward into you, and when your body went stiff and you threw your head back, banging it against the cold ground, San knew he had found it.

“There it is…” he sighed, pounding relentlessly inside you, eager to make you feel so good you pass out. “You’d think I remembered by now, huh?” Of course, he had to tease, even when he’s balls deep inside of you. Always so playful.

Your hands writhed in your constraints; you wanted to touch him. Grab his hair, run your hands down his abs, hold onto his meaty arm. San knew this; he loved to watch you battle with your lack of control under him.

“You wanna touch me, baby?” San teased, leaning to press a kiss to the top of your head, gentle and soft, while he drove his thick cock in and out of you like an animal.

You nodded, tears in your eyes. “Please..” you begged. “I wanna touch you, Sannie, please..!” San’s eyes rolled, fuckng you even harder at the sweet sound of your pleas.

“You can touch me when you cum again, sweetheart.” The hand holding your waist slides to press his fingers against your sore clit, petting it in quick circles.

“Cum and you can touch me. You can do it, baby.” You squeezed your eyes shut and focused on him inside of you, and the stimulation on your clit. His mouth pressed against the shell of your ear, peppering it with wet kisses, his groans and whines directly hitting your ear, making your stomach clench.

“C’mon, baby, you’re so close, put your back into it.” San clicked his tongue, pressing up against your clit. You rolled your hips against him to match his thrusts, and then you felt that coil in your stomach again.

“Close, close, close…” You muttered, chanting as you focused on your climax. San only fucked into you harder because, in all honesty, he wanted to reward you for working so hard for him. He wants your hands all over him while he chases his own high with your body.

Unrelenting and unending, you toppled over the edge, cumming on his cock, cunt clenching, and body vibrating. San’s hips never stopped, dragging you through your orgasm every time his hips connected with yours, wet slaps of skin echoing off the trees.

“Fuck yes… that's it!” San’s hands grabbed your bound wrists and quickly ripped the belt off of you, setting your hands free. Immediately, your hands flew to grab his biceps, moaning shamelessly as he fucked you through your orgasm.

“Yeah, yeah, gonna fuck you full of my cum, baby. You want it? You want me to fill you up?” San babbled on, swallowing your lips in a deep kiss. Overstimulation began to ache in your stomach, and you nodded against him, a whimpering, whiny mess underneath him, drooling and dripping wet as he smoothly slipped in and out of your slippery pussy.

“Y-yes…” you cried, voice nearly gone and eyes brimming with tears. “Please fill me up, oh god… Sannie, need it…!”

San’s voice broke, his hips sloppy and losing the rhythm as he lost himself inside of you.

“O-okay, baby, ‘m gonna fill you up. Gonna fuck my cum into you, you gonna take it for me?” San's hands grabbed either side of your waist, grounding himself inside of you.

You muttered out broken ‘yes’s and hushed ‘please’s, begging him to cum inside of you. Letting out a guttural, drawn-out groan, his hips paused only for a second before spilling himself inside you. He picked up the pace again, staying true to his word and fucking his cum deep inside of you, the hands on your waist gripping so tight you were sure it would leave bruises.

“Fuck, baby, look at you take it.” San’s hips slowed, gently rocking his hips into yours, pushing his cum further into you.

Catching his breath, his thrusts came to a slow stop, leaning down to kiss you softly, sighing into his mouth, satisfied.

When you both had a second to calm down, you frowned. “I have dirt all over me.”

San laughed, kissing your temple and gently massaging your stomach, setting your leg down to let it rest. “Welcome to the country, peaches, can’t go nowhere without gettin’ a little dirt on you.”

You both snuck back into the house and got each other cleaned up, trying your very best not to wake Arin up, but San’s loud footsteps nearly gave you a heart attack.

“Sorry,” he whispered, leading you to the shower. “I can’t help it.” After a warm, soothing bath and tending to the marks on your wrists from San’s belt. He sent you off to bed with a soft hug and a kiss on the forehead.

“Sweet dreams, sweetheart. I’ll see you tomorrow morning when you leave.” You smiled and walked back into Arin’s room, slowly creaking the door shut, grateful to see that she was still sound asleep in the bed.

You crawled into bed next to her and sighed, checking your phone to see the time. 12 am.

You left early in the morning to head back home, and you needed at least a little sleep, so you drifted off. The last thought on your mind was, of course. San.

“Alright, ladies, the truck’s all packed up. I’m sending you home with a cooler of snacks. I expect you to bring it back when you visit again next year.”

Arin rolled her eyes, leaning against the truck bed. “Is this your way of forcing us to come back? So we have to return the cooler?”

San frowned, “I never said that. Maybe I won’t miss you as much as I thought.” You laughed, and San’s heart warmed at the sound. He’s gonna miss that.

“Alright, well I won’t keep ya’ll too long. I know traffic’ll start to get bad soon. Arin, come give your old man a hug.” Arin frowned, walking towards her dad with outstretched arms. They embraced, for a long time, San grunting as he squeezed. “I love you, honey.” He mumbled, rubbing her back softly.

“I love you too, Dad,” Arin responded. You swear you hear her voice wobble only slightly.

Eventually, they let go, then San looked over at you next. “C’mon, you too, peaches, bring it in.” You sighed, a soft smile on your face as you walked over to him. He hugged you just like he had when you first met, but it lasted a little longer, his arms locked over your hips, your arms secure around his neck, like neither one of you wanted to let go this time.

“I’ll miss ya,” he whispered in your ear, only to you. Your heart swelled.

You both pulled away, and you walked back over to Arin. “Thanks for having us, Dad. Don’t worry, we’ll be back soon enough. Try not to double over from a heart attack before then.”

San playfully winced, holding a hand over his heart and furrowing his brows in mock pain. “Ohhh, my grey hairs and my frail bones… I won’t make it.”

Arin waved him off dismissively, laughing to herself as she got into the truck. You climbed into the bed, wanting to lie in the back on the ride down the mountain to relish in nature one last time before you rejoined civilization.

She started the truck and began driving down the path, and you watched from the bed, eyes locked with San’s as you slowly pulled away from the house. He waved to you, smiling. You waved back, and in response, he blew you a kiss.

Your mouth dropped, and you couldn’t hear the laugh, but you could see the crinkle in his eyes and the wide smile that graced his face. You watched him the entire time the truck drove, his eyes never pulling away from you, until the house was just a speck amongst the trees, eventually disappearing among the vast expanse of looming timber.

You lay down in the truck bed, sighing as you stared up into the sky as the sun rose above the treeline. You still felt a twinge of guilt about what you had done, but you reassured yourself, Arin never had to know. Just keep your mouth shut, and don’t think about him too much.

You just hoped that next time you visited, he’d be a little more gentle with you, because these hickeys all over your body are not gonna have mercy when it comes to covering them up.

You couldn’t wait to visit again.

Btw ever since I was a kid i sucked ASS at horseshoes, if you’ve never played genuinely it’s just ragebait. Never bet on a game of horeshoe

[airaviity]

morning treat

bf!san x f!reader

oneshot | mdni

1.2k

San wakes up hard and hungry — not for breaky tho, but for the sight of you humming in nothing but a tiny pink apron.

The kitchen counter won’t be clean for long.

nsfw tags under

f/m, vaginal sex, teasting, dirty talk, morning sex, kitchen sex, unprotecte (wear protection kids!!), creampie, spanking, oral (f! receiving), breeding kink, tongue fucking, morning wood

San stirs awake with a shiver crawling down his spine.

A quiet groan leaves his lips as he squints into the too-bright morning light spilling through the window. It’s early — painfully early — but there’s no point fighting it when his body is wide awake, pulsing with that raw, aching hunger that won’t be ignored.

He rolls over, reaching for your side of the bed — only to find cool sheets and emptiness. San frowns, jaw tightening. Now? When all he wants is his girl warm and soft under him?

He pushes himself up, running a hand through his messy hair as he listens. A faint clatter and a soft hum drift in from down the hall. He sighs, shaking his head with a dry laugh. You’re up and about already — of course you are.

San gets up, his cock already heavy and throbbing as he pads barefoot to the kitchen. One glance around the doorway and the sight in front of him just makes things worse.

You’re there — swaying gently at the counter in that tiny pink apron he got you last Christmas. He remembers buying it, thinking how perfectly sweet you’d look in it — but he didn’t expect you to wear it with nothing else underneath.

The apron barely reaches the tops of your thighs. The thin strap is tied in a bow above your ass, leaving your back bare, your hips rolling with every soft step you take. You’re humming a tune to yourself, so caught up in whisking batter and slicing fruit that you don’t even hear him come closer.

San drags his tongue across his bottom lip, hand flexing at his side. He can see the curve of your ass peek out when you shift — the way your thighs brush together when you rock up on your toes. So sweet. So clueless. So easy for him to ruin.

He crosses the kitchen in a few long strides and presses himself flush to your back. Your surprised gasp is soft — a quick squeak that melts into a breathless giggle when you feel his hands settle on your hips.

"Morning, baby," San murmurs, lips brushing over your shoulder as he inhales you — warm skin, sugar, vanilla, everything soft and perfect.

"San— you scared me," you laugh, your voice all airy and sweet as you lean your head to the side for him. "Couldn’t help it," he mutters, nose skimming along your neck, his hands gliding down to cup your ass. "Look at you. Walking around like this, acting innocent."

He grinds against you, letting you feel every inch of how hard he is. You squirm, biting your lip when his hips push forward, his cock pressing right where you’re warmest.

"I was just… making breakfast," you manage to say, breath stuttering when his fingers knead the soft flesh of your thighs.

"Oh, trust me I am very much hungry," San growls, voice rough and low against your ear. "Not for pancakes though."

Before you can answer, he drags the apron up, baring your ass completely. One broad palm smooths over your skin, fingers squeezing, spreading you open just enough to see that you’re already glistening for him.

"Fuck, look at you," he mutters, voice almost a groan. "So wet for me already."

You open your mouth to protest, but the sharp smack of his hand landing on your ass cuts you off. "Ah! San!" you yelp, your hips jolting forward against the counter.

He chuckles, dark and soft, before landing another slap, harder this time — the sting blooming under his touch. "Stay still," San orders. He sinks to his knees behind you, big hands pushing your thighs apart. He barely gives you time to whimper before he buries his face right between your legs.

Your body jerks when his tongue drags through your folds, hot and slick. He hums low in his throat, savoring the taste of you. You brace yourself on the counter, trying to steady your breathing as he works you over with lazy, greedy licks.

"S-San, oh—" Your knees wobble as his tongue circles your clit, then dips lower again to fuck into you. The wet sounds echo around the quiet kitchen — your broken gasps mixing with the faint clatter of the spoon you dropped somewhere beside you.

"Shit, you taste so sweet," San growls, voice muffled as he presses his mouth harder against you. His fingers dig into your hips, holding you still while he devours every drop of you, licking and sucking until your thighs are shaking.

"Please— please, San, I’m gonna—" you gasp, your nails digging into the countertop.

He pulls back just enough to speak, his breath hot against your soaked skin. "Not yet." His tone leaves no room for argument. He plants one last kiss on your pussy before standing again, towering over you as he flips you around to face him.

You let out a soft gasp as he lifts you onto the counter with zero effort. He steps closer, spreading your legs wide apart so you’re open just for him.

"Hold yourself for me," he commands, eyes dark and hungry. You whimper but do as you’re told — fingers trembling as you spread yourself for him.

San drags his palm over the head of his cock, lining himself up. He leans in, pressing his forehead to yours, voice dropping to a whisper. "Look at you. So pretty like this. All mine."

He pushes in with one smooth stroke that knocks the air out of your lungs. You cry out, head tipping back as he fills you to the hilt.

"Fuck," San breathes out, holding himself there for just a heartbeat — savoring the way your pussy clenches around him. "So tight for me. Every damn time."

Your words melt into broken moans when he pulls back and slams back in, setting a rough pace that makes the counter shudder under you. The slap of skin on skin mixes with your breathless cries, echoing through the warm kitchen.

"San— Sannie— oh, please—" "Yeah? You like that?" he pants, one hand gripping your thigh tight enough to leave marks while the other cups the back of your neck. "So fucking good for me. Take it."

Your orgasm builds fast, that hot, breathless pressure coiling tighter with every brutal thrust. You try to speak, but it’s just a string of needy whimpers.

"Say it," San demands, hips snapping into you, his cock hitting that sweet spot over and over. "Tell me."

"Please— please, I’m gonna cum— please, San, please—"

"Do it, baby. Cum for me."

You break apart with a sharp cry, your walls clamping around him as your orgasm hits hard and sudden. Your vision blurs, your body trembling as he fucks you through every wave.

San’s own groan rumbles low in his chest as he chases his high — thrusts going deeper, slower, until he spills inside you, filling you up to the brim with a final, harsh grind of his hips.

You slump back, chest heaving, eyes fluttering shut as he leans in and kisses your sweaty forehead.

"Breakfast can wait," he murmurs against your skin, his lips curved in a lazy grin.

You laugh weakly, breathless and warm all over.

[airaviity]

san + backshot + headlock..... you complete the puzzle im begging you the doctors say that i'll die if i don't read this from u

Tight Squeeze

cw. nsfw, afab!reader, dilf san, age gap (san is 40s, reader is 20s), light degradation, praise kink, manhandling, strength kink, overstimulation, creampies, breeding kink, dacryphilia, sadomasochism, marking, brief use of daddy, choking *not proofread, just pure horny*

[this ask has been sitting in my inbox for so long, im so sorry nonnie]

taglist (dm to be tagged); @sidusvenari @sugarnspice630 @ravenempress101 @autieofthevalley @linearities @wisejudgedragonhairdo @madiexuberant @mifuelarts @straytiny127 @yun-fangz @huen1ngk41 @juyeonshour @uniq-tastic @hongjng8 @miyaluvvsyou @everyonewooeverywhere @hongjoongtime117 @oddracha @kingbloopter @jay-0n3s @ane1o2 @jelly1117 @aftertherain-atr @k-zuzulibrary @lxnnrobin @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @lezleegerguson-120 @moonlitarcade @koyagifs @les4heeseung @yoonglesbae

masterlist <3

You were teasing him again—half on purpose, half because you were still getting used to what it meant to be with someone like San.

Not just older. Not just more experienced. But built like a sculpted punishment, always calm until he wasn’t. You leaned back against the kitchen counter, sipping from a water bottle, still wearing the too-short lounge shorts and tiny tank you’d greeted him in when he got home.

“Rough day?” you asked sweetly. San grunted, dropping his gym bag by the door. His shoulders were straining under that fitted black shirt—veins dancing down his arms, sweat clinging to his collarbones.

You should’ve known better. But you tilted your head and giggled anyway. “You know, for someone who works out so much, I still haven’t seen you lift anything heavier than a protein shake.”

He looked up slowly, arching a brow. “Is that right?” 

“Mmhmm,” you hummed, tapping your chin. “All that strength—feels like a waste, honestly.”

His expression didn’t change. Just a quiet, eerie stillness. That unblinking dad stare that always came before something dangerous. “You think these muscles are just for show, sweetheart?” he asked, voice low. You bit back a grin. “I mean… unless you’re planning to bench press me, I don’t see the point.”

You blinked—and suddenly his hand was in your hair, the other arm looping around your waist like steel. Before you could speak, he’d lifted you clean off the ground. You yelped, grabbing at his biceps for balance.

“Still think they’re for show now?” he asked, eyes glittering as he carried you into the bedroom like you weighed nothing. You were breathless already. “San—wait—”

He tossed you onto the mattress, and you bounced once, hair wild, heart racing. San peeled off his shirt slowly and deliberately. His chest was broad, tanned, and glistening from his gym workouts. His back flexed as he knelt over you, one knee between your thighs.

“You love playing dumb,” he murmured, voice honey-slick and dangerous. “But your body tells on you every time.” You opened your mouth to sass back, but then he grabbed both your wrists with one hand and pinned them over your head.

The other hand skimmed down your side, across your stomach, between your thighs. Light. Testing. “Look at you,” he said, almost fondly. “Already soaked. And I haven’t even started.”

You squirmed. “Then start, old man.” His eyes flared, and then he leaned down until his lips brushed yours. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

Then he broke you into slow, hard pieces.

Every roll of his hips was deeper than the last. Every breath he took sounded like a growl in your ear. His palm flattened against your lower back, forcing you to arch, to take him deeper. His mouth was on your neck—biting, branding, owning.

“You wanted to see what these muscles are for, baby?” he rasped. “This is what they’re for. For keeping you right here. Screaming. Shaking.”

You whimpered, body already too close to the edge. “God,” he muttered, voice straining, “tight little thing. No one’s ever ruined you properly, huh?” His arm curled around your throat—not choking, just enough pressure to remind you who was in control. Your fingers clawed at the sheets. Your thighs trembled. You couldn’t tell if the tears came from pleasure or sheer overstimulation—but San kissed them away anyway, smiling.

“Look at you,” he whispered. “Crying over this old man’s cock. Thought you liked the younger ones, hmm?”

“C-Can't—can’t think—”

“You don’t need to think,” he snapped, hips slamming into yours. “Just take it. That’s all you’re good for right now.”

You sobbed his name. He cursed.

“I’m gonna fill you up so deep, baby. Gonna put a baby in you just so I can watch you cry when I knock you up again.”

You clenched around him involuntarily. His grin was feral. “Oh, you like that?”

You moaned in response, back arching, stars behind your eyes. San didn’t stop until you were shaking, wrecked, and slurring his name like a prayer.

And still, somehow, he had more to give.

“Next time you question what these muscles are for,” he murmured against your ear, “I’ll remind you again.”

[airaviity]

𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐔𝐁'𝐒 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐙 | 𝐂.𝐒 | 𝐏.𝐒𝐇

⛧ genres: oneshot, hard smut, dark romance-fantasy, unreliable narrator, obsession, psychological, stockholm syndrome, love triangle, angst, pwp 18+ ⛧

⛧ pairings: yandere hunter! seonghwa x captive angel! reader x guard! san (have fun struggling)

⛧ summary: you come to terms with your distorted desire for your captor—damning yourself to never return to heaven in favor of living in his ominous and vulgar captivity. the entanglement only complicates further when he instructs his personal guard to watch over you while he's on a mission.

⛧please read the warnings below before proceeding! this is a content intense oneshot. i am NOT saying this lightly the warning list is actually insane

elements of dub-con, bondage, dumbification, stolkhom syndrome, manipulation, minor descriptions of wounds, minor violence/high anxiety, a gun being used threateningly, fingering, squirting, corruption, free use, solo play, seonghwa using ur underwear to… 🤭, caretaker seonghwa, hard dom seonghwa, virgin! san, service top!san, face sitting, threesome, mxm action…. ☺️, blindfolding, dacryphilia, overstimulation, toys, vaginal penetration, anal penetration, cum shots, creampies, death threats, objectification, oxygen deprivation, brainwashing, unhealthy obedience, betting on your life, oral, san eventually wears a collar, bitter and unhealthily possessive hwa, a razor (not in a sexual circumstance nor put into use) there will be no middle ground u will either love or hate my characters

⛧ wc: 23.5k

theme songs: perverts (intro) by ethel cain, frosti by björk, and for you i hold my breath by lalleshwari

AN: it’s finally finished!!

His voice slips into the room like incense—soft, saccharine, laced with something almost holy.

“My angel,” Seonghwa coos, circling the sigil etched with care into the cold stone floor. “Are you alright in here?”

The silk binding your arms has long since lost its elegance. It burns now, chafing raw skin, your limbs aching with the dull throb of time passed. Relief pools behind your eyes at the sight of him—his cherubic face glowing pale in the firelight, so lovely it’s almost cruel. Your legs draw together, a conditioned reaction.

“Hwa.” your voice breaks like old glass. “Hold me.”

He smiles—sweetly, softly—but his eyes search you. They always search you. For defiance, for rage, for the threat of rebellion. There’s nothing but a quiet plea in your gaze, and so he breathes out, satisfied.

“I’m sorry it took so long. San got injured during a long hunt and I had to stay back until we were in the clear.” He says lowly, stepping into the sigil to kneel delicately before you, and softly brushes your hair out of your face.

Nudging a cheek into the palm of his hand, you wait for his next words obediently. A dull ache pulses from your back– remnants of old gaping wounds try their best to remind you of something dire in their phantom pains—that there’s something dreadfully sinister in your presence, but you can’t recall exactly what.

The cold palm of Seonghwa’s hand distracted you. Seonghwa’s elated eyes glow at the sight of your truest form of resignation and remain unnoticed by you. Dark eerie eyes sink onto your form like little moons, testing the waters “What do you think about spending a few days here with San? I’ll be…on a mission and I don’t know how long it’ll take. It’s been a good while since the sun has touched you, dove—San could take you to the river?” he lightly disguises his suggestion, inquiring with a sense of casualness.

You shake your head immediately. “Why can’t you take me with you?”

Heavy distraught implodes within your body like a landmine. The anxiety sends a direct shock to your heart—already abhorred by and enduring the hours he spends away on missions during the evenings—and now he’s saying he’ll be gone for days? What if he didn’t come back?

You’d rather die.

You go cold, fighting the urge to well up and vomit at the sudden anxiety induced nausea. Seonghwa shakes his head calmly.

“That wouldn’t be safe–” He throws an attempt at reasoning with you before you disregard his words immediately, cutting in like a dull knife trying to get through a tough surface.

“You’d be there to protect me, wouldn’t you?” You plead adamantly, raising your voice with confidence. No harm would come your way if Seonghwa was around. He wouldn’t let that happen even if it killed him.

“My love, you know I can’t take you with me. If I did, they’d find out and take you away—because you’re special, remember? I can’t risk that. Be a good girl and stay with San.”

You scowl at the reminder.

“I don’t wanna go back,” you mutter, turning your head away in defiance. You don’t even remember Heaven anymore. A dull throb pulses behind your eyes, making you wince—but Seonghwa doesn’t notice.

“I don’t want you to go back either. Can we just… agree to disagree?” His tone is resigned, edged with mild exasperation.

He shakes his head, defeated, then leans in slowly—his breath brushing your lips as he changes the subject. “I’ve missed your mouth. Will you kiss me? Please?”

The yearning in his voice is unmistakable: soft and silken, like a flower petal. A delicate plea in that familiar cadence—moderately pitched, never louder than necessary. Always composed. Always him.

He cradles your cheek and reaches out to smooth down your hair, the gesture almost motherlike. Then he pulls you into his chest, and you tumble forward into his lap. The leather of his trench coat stretches beneath you, releasing a soft, rubbery sound. You lift your head, eyes dilated—wide, unfocused—and tilt your face up. With a delicate lick, you lift his bottom lip, asking for permission to enter—for the unspoken invitation to taste the day he lived outside, the one you lost to your muddled memory.

But it was warm in his arms. He liked to remind you that you were his little bird—placed on Earth for him alone, so he could care for you. No one else loved you enough to lock you away from a world that only wanted to marvel at your mystic rarity, to exploit and desecrate what made you different.

Even when he punished you, it was always—at least in his eyes—for your own good. And on most days, he did everything he could to spoil you.

Your Seonghwa is sweet. He always reminded you that he could do no wrong to you.

He’d asked you to keep your binds on and wait here, in the old mausoleum nestled deep within the woods—secluded enough to quiet his worries. ‘It’s the safest place for you, Dove. Please understand that.’ He’d say and you couldn’t argue with him–Seonghwa always knew best.

This was his hidden sanctuary, and it was the only place fit for his most prized possession.

Seonghwa’s half lidded eyes gaze down at you quietly, a soft simmering that was reminiscent of a God you’d forgotten–watching your tongue flick before slowly parting his mouth.

When you press an open-mouthed kiss onto him, you immediately taste a faint combination of tobacco and ginger candies—a usual indicator of his oversight to his own care and almost pull away to reprimand him for most likely not eating actual food again. An arm wraps itself around your waist with a firm grip rubbing against your rib cage. The initial softness parting away and opening into true realm of Seonghwa’s nature.

“Can you be a good girl and do something for me?” His light voice rings like a bell, requesting softly and waving its frequency sweetly at you. You’d never say no—not to him. Sliding off his leather coat and unbuckling the silver clasp of his black slacks, knowing exactly what your reply will be.

“Anything.” Your eyes shimmer with an unnatural reverence—dull, yet awestruck, as if you’ve never seen anything like him before.

Seonghwa slinks a hand down the flat of his abdomen before slowly unbuttoning his slacks, cat-like and sultry. A trimmed array of hair is revealed as he peels his bottoms to his thighs, not wearing any briefs and exposing the pink velvet that hung neatly between his legs.

A mouthwatering and painful girth saddled itself there, its natural vulgarity a direct contrast to his cherubic and idyllic appearance. His cock twitched for a moment, hardening and lifting towards his stomach the more you stared.

He loved seeing how obedient you were and that despite your well-trained appetite, you knew to wait for his words before doing absolutely anything at all—because you’d do anything for him and Hwa would burn the entirety of Heaven and Earth if it meant to keep you by his side, whatever the means necessary.

“You know what to do from here right?” Flattening his palm to the back of your head before jolting you harshly towards him, cock hitting your cheek and momentarily resting on your jawline.

Your arms were still tied as your cheek landed on his upper thighs and shuffled towards him to place him into your mouth somehow. The shape of his cock protrudes from the side of your cheek

Small drops of saliva fall from the corners of your mouth, stifling a gag when he stuffs himself into the back of your throat and settles there unmoving.

Another hand reaches down to pinch your nose, blocking all access to oxygen. He keeps you stationed there, and you forget to count the seconds.

“Don’t think. Don’t fight it either—just focus on feeling my cock in your mouth, got it?” His voice shifts, a little more deadpan and firmer–melancholic, empty, and foreboding in its direction. He presses down on the back of your neck; blank gaze shadowed under a thick blanket of dark lashes.

Your head’s throbbing, alarm signals raising and firing, but you rub your thighs together, unable to resist his temptations, moaning at the friction. The meat on them begin to bead with a mixture of sweat and sweet slick.

At some point, your brain goes numb. The main point of existence, the meaning of the universe led you here to this moment. Nothing else exists here, everything before was a mere figment—a daydream filled with light. There’s a brief flicker and you tug yourself off suddenly, coughing through the spit and paling in realization.

It was a blip but the memory woke you from the disturbing reverie.

Just days ago, he’d nearly snapped your ankles when you offhandedly told him he couldn’t keep you here forever—that he’s a mortal man, and mortal men die in the blink of an eye to beings like you. He wouldn’t be able to bind you to his deathbed, nor hold you in the afterlife either.

Your gaze falls onto the black and blue finger shaped bruises wrapped around the skin of your ankle. It happened again.

It’s becoming harder to separate desire from rationale, especially as your episodes stretch on longer each time. And it isn’t just Seonghwa’s manipulation—it’s the exhaustion of constantly suppressing a twisted longing for the only person around you. You craved his warmth, his affection, and at times, find yourself defending your own captivity.

To forget and damn it all was to experience unconstrained bliss in this funeral of a body, subjecting yourself to pleasures amongst the dead by playing dead. He’ll make your home a Mausoleum if it meant you’d die with him and when you’re in the mist of that reverie, you’d do it willingly. Seonghwa abhorred his mortality and the fact that even with his best efforts he would only be an ephemeral being to you.

There was no heaven that would welcome him.

You avoid his eyes and stare at the moss overgrowth spindling its way above the pillar and towards a stone tomb. This was a grave of Seonghwa’s unreachable hopes– of a dark past you knew nothing of.

Seonghwa’s eyes flutter knowingly over your expression.

He thought this would happen.

Seonghwa knows he has to break you further, but this was the longest he’d ever held you in that space—suspended, stripped of every thought and desire but him. It was working. And soon, it would consume you entirely.

He’ll make sure of that.

The look in his eyes unsettled you, shaking you to the core—gazing at you like the end was already decided, like he knew everything.

Moonlight bled from the skylight above you, dousing your conflicted and horrified features in a shade of blue you began to drown in. An ominous stillness permeated the space as you finally take note of the dark gleam in his eyes.

“There you are, Angel.” A grin slid onto his face as he sat back and leaned his weight onto his palms.

Your heart trembled as it fought the fear and desire to stay here without any effort to push back against that fate, needing to remember yourself and why you couldn’t remain here.

“Why are you still doing this?” A resigned whisper falls from your mouth, your downcast gaze igniting something painful in Seonghwa. You’ve asked this question again and again for however long you’ve been here, and not once has he answered you.

A pensive expressions sways onto his face before he honestly utters. “I have no other motive than my love for you.” Leaning a hand forward to brush a stray eyelash from your cheekbone before continuing

“The world outside is too dirty for a thing like you. Why don’t you understand that?” He whispers out, venom hiding on the sweetness of his tongue.

“—You’d run back to a place where my hands can’t reach you? Do you truly believe you could pass among the innocent, wearing their softness like a mask, after what I’ve done to your body?”

Your lungs tremble, a sharp gasp slipping free as he crawls toward you on all fours—unashamed, his half-bared form moving with the grace of something deceivingly lighthearted. His lips hover a breath above your skin, tracing a reverent path along your abdomen, up your chest, and finally, to the hollow of your throat.

Seonghwa’s tongue flattens vulgarly on your jugular, licking up the length of your jawline. “Your God won’t fuck you. He’ll only watch me desecrate you.” He whispers with a palpable seduction choking the air.

“I wasn’t made to do things like this—it was never my purpose.” You grit out halfheartedly. Angels didn’t have any appetite. Food, water, sex, affection–all of that was unnatural to the celestial thrumming in your bodies. In reality, you were too bitter about his constant restraint and only ever found reprieve in denying him when you could. Perhaps it was also a matter of being able to deny yourself too.

“I’d beg to differ. How else would I’ve been able to fit inside of you? You take my cock so well, little dove.” A hand trembles trails it fingertips above your womb before pressing down on it.

“A shame that Angels can’t get pregnant.” A dark mumble of disappointment leaves his lips.

You hate the fact that you’re falling into it and that you were distorted enough now to still want his praise—to be capable of fulfilling his wants and needs.

He sighs before standing up to brush his legs. “Well, since my angel’s a stubborn one—I suppose I’ll have to try again some other time.” He leans down to swipe your legs from under you, huffing with reprimand, and dragging you up to grip a strong hand at the lining of your underwear to tear it off to examine between your legs. He flings the sad tatters like crocodile tears, absentminded and ignoring the world as all else goes quiet at the sight of you. Seonghwa stiffens when he catches a glimpse of your wetness, gazing at you questioningly passive.

“You’re all bark but little to no bite.” He spits out for a moment, sarcastic in the wake of his joy before continuing

“Say please and I’ll take care of it.”

Your eyebrows furrow, legs trembling as they hung in the air–his grip tightening around your ankles to hold your lower body up. Your arms and back are tensing at the uncomfortable burning that squeezes from your intricately bound arms, tied together at the base of your spine.

Seonghwa’s white hair glimmers hauntingly under the moonlight, fluttering slightly as a small gust of wind enters through the cracks of the Mausoleum, and your breath leaves you–he looked lovely.

You open your mouth to reject but the words feel too strained to leave you once an uncomfortable clenching in your chest distracts you. His eyes are black seas, waiting for your reply but maintaining his hold.

“No. I’m perfectly fine. Let go of me.” You swallow hard, body stinging at the mere idea of his hands releasing you. He was too prideful, confident even, to force himself onto you. Seonghwa never needed to– he was tactical and patient, easing you into his seduction bit by bit before you caved to him time and time again on your own volition whenever he broke you enough to desire him without thought.

He says nothing for a moment, gaze stoic.

“Suit yourself then.” He mutters, a dance of a smile playing at his lips before he picks your body up and into his arms, reaching down to cut your bindings for the night. “I’m off to bed—” He stops to pick up your discarded underwear “I’ll bring you a new pair. Don’t forget it’s bath time tomorrow.”

He stretches his lithe body, yawning into his hand before exiting the lonesome section of the Mausoleum, leaving you to your own haunts. His Silhouette turns to the immediate makeshift room to the right of the corridor. Your gaze remained where his phantom shadow, illuminated by the haunting torches aligning the walls, swayed off into another direction, squeezing your eyes shut with bitter reprimand.

You’re unsure if you’re bitter about not falling into his hands

Or by the fact that you sickeningly wanted to, the fever spreading throughout your body and drenching it in an uncomfortable humid heat.

Perhaps you’re already damned.

The thought drifts through you as you flinch, your fingertips grazing the tender flesh of your arms. A sigh escapes your lips, weary and hollow, as you sink onto the cold stone floor—long past the point of trying to decipher a way out of the ornate sigil that binds you here.

There’s comfort in the darkness that greets you once you shut your eyes, fading away into the only kindness you knew these days, sleep offering reprieve and blurring the lines of your desire to offer yourself to him on a platter—ominously willing to pay the price, if only for a moment of joy and basking in his praise. You dream of distant sunlight at the edge of a horizon that night—by the end of it, you turn away to walk back into the shadow you crawled out of with your bleeding body.

Seonghwa stifles a frustrated groan, the sound muffled by the fabric of his black sweater as he bites down on it to keep from crying out. His teeth sink into the material, holding it taut against his abdomen, as he clutches your underwear around his cock. He throws his head back, eyes clenched shut, as anguished bliss courses through him. The throbbing in his hand drives him mad, recalling the image of your body, suspended by the ankles, vulnerably exposed and pulsing with unfulfilled desire.

He can't comprehend your restraint. The God you serve is a warlord, thirsty for blood and conquest—nothing remains pure in this world. Murder, lust, gluttony—these desires plague every living thing, from animals to angels. You were no exception, merely isolated in your divine garden.

Seonghwa's palms grow slick as he rubs himself against the fabric, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. Images of you assault his mind, driving him to the brink of insanity. He sees your flushed breasts, bouncing gently, slick with sweat. He hears your loud, innocent moans, your eyes wide with astonishment as new sensations corrupt your body.

"Fuck," he whimpers, increasing the pace of his strokes. His stomach rolls and tightens with each wave of pleasure, but it's not enough. He needs you broken open before him, exposed and mindless, drooling and desperate.

Born with a darkness he's worked hard to repress, Seonghwa has always been determined not to tarnish his family's name. Descendants of a prestigious lineage devoted to hunting and eradicating the "otherworldly," they have always been a beacon of purity and righteousness. Until he found you.

Injured and alone near the old mausoleum, you were a curiosity he couldn't resist. Tending to your wounds, he found himself unable to let you go. Since then, his disciplined moral compass has crumbled, burning away in his descent into madness.

He grits his teeth, huffing against his sweater as he adjusts the pink cloth to envelop the tip of his cock. Jerking his hand wildly, he throws all reservation to the wind, his heart pounding as erotic images assault his mind.

Your silken cloth, the one he imagined rested against your pussy for hours, is a torment to him. He wants to be that cloth, to wrap himself around you, to be your skin, your breath, your sweat, your spit. The thought sends shivers down his spine, and he moans loudly, his eyes fixed on the steadily drenched underwear, glistening with his pre-cum.

"Be patient, Seonghwa," he mutters, reminding himself that it's only a matter of time. The thought of rushing back to you, of breaking you completely, invades his mind, but he pushes it aside, focusing on the sensation of your cloth against his sensitive flesh.

He imagines the bulge in your stomach, the maddening clench of your cunt as he ruts against you, his groans hot in your ear. Wanting to fuck you without restraint, to corrupt your body entirely, to take your ass with wild abandon.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he chants, his hips lifting and falling in a desperate rhythm as he fucks his hand. His weight presses against the back of his neck, his feet planted firmly on the ground as he tries to keep his hips raised. Gibberish and phrases fall from his lips, a mix of endearments and insults—'my pretty angel' and 'stupid little thing' can be faintly heard from the corridor.

With a final, hard thrust into his hands, Seonghwa orgasms, gripping tightly onto his base as he arches his back off the floor. Cum shoots up, landing on his abdomen, chest, and near his eye, a sticky, white mess.

He collapses, his chest heaving as he stares at the cold marble ceiling, his mind spinning with thoughts of you. You were still learning, still dancing on the precipice of desire, your celestial understanding of the world at odds with the mortal realities of sex and emotion.

Seonghwa knows that it's only a matter of time before you fully succumb to your desires, before you understand the true depth of your feelings for him. Until then, he will wait, biding his time, his patience wearing thin as his need for you grows more desperate by the day.

With a final shake of his head, Seonghwa doesn't bother dressing himself, descending into a cold, dark, dreamless sleep, his body hardly sated— mind still hungry for you.

San’s sharp face said all of the words refusing to leave his mouth. The cool, damp air of the mausoleum sickened him— even more so in the presence of the captive angel Seonghwa liked keeping for himself. Spindly vines seemed to grieve their bodies over graves, almost symbolically curling their fingers to reach out to you but not quite making it to where you lay, he notes. Perhaps—they too—pity only being capable enough to witness your bindings, yet unable to do anything on their own. Too seemingly powerless and brittle.

San perches his back against a cold wall facing you but closes his eyes. Donning his formal attire for the task, he didn’t want to risk appearing either casual or familiar in front of Seonghwa—specifically concerning his assignment to watch you. The wrinkled white button up paired with an ankle length trench coat saddled against his form stiffly, and he longingly questions himself when he'd get the chance to sleep. San was here for work. Nothing more—nothing less.

Though, he didn't know how to see you without choking on an unknown feeling. San was admittedly softer than his cohorts, despite not caring for your kind in particular���somewhere along the lines of trained ambivalence rather than violent superiority. You're bound again, arms knotted with silk and everything that made your ethereal beauty glow like a comet, and he fleetingly wonders if all Angels looked like that—like you.

San’s loyalty for Seonghwa was written in blood. For each generation, the eldest son of his family was destined to guard the most elite of their faction; the eldest son of the oldest family of Hunters. Madness be damned, Seonghwa was inarguably the brightest of them all—an elegant sword of a man who danced through the throes of darkness without so much as a blink. Yet San had noticed something inherently absent in their heir—too precise, too mechanical, a masterful yet hollow imitation of human connection and humility. A vast shadow accompanied the brilliance of his skill, and that is precisely why an angel lies hidden on this… barren excuse of— what the fuck is this place even called again? A mausoleum?

Even someone like Seonghwa wouldn’t be able to evade the consequences of hiding a being like you. The entirety of their lineage’s codex believed in human superiority—motivated by a primal desire to eradicate all else with the exception of what they can feed off of. The fragility of his beauty did nothing to negate the carnality of his true nature. No starlike quality can dim that murderous hand of his

Before Seonghwa departed and left you in San's care, he'd only said one thing: "You know what and what not to do."— in other words, 'protect her but you may not care for her.' Thus began San's mildly uncomfortable task of sleeping in Seonghwa's wretched morgue and dread fills his body when he sees the rain falling through cracks on the skylight, directly onto your body.

The dresses Seonghwa adorned you with were often too extravagant for comfort and the chiffon layers that ballooned from your waist weighed your posture down. San assumed Angels couldn't get sick, but the sight of your trembling body told him that angels could, in fact, get cold—that they could register the absence of warmth, feel hurt, and know right from wrong. He hated that he couldn't shake off the sudden understanding.

"Angel... what does Seonghwa allow you to do when you're cold? Don't lie to me—you'll only get us both punished without reason, and I don't feel like being taxidermized by the man I'm chained to for the rest of my life." San steps towards your kneeling figure hesitantly, coming close enough to be seen and acknowledged, but no further.

Your head hangs low, a slow tilt raising your strange eyes to gaze at him. It's with a trepid sense of innocence and lack of awareness that you let a small utter leave your lips—almost as if afraid to speak.

"He bathes me until I'm warm if I don't want to be warmed in... other ways." A rosy blush paints your cheeks, and you look lovely as a spring's day even under the dread of rain. He quirks his eyebrow in awkward surprise, blinking, and rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Right. That makes sense." For Seonghwa at least. San didn't receive any detailed instructions other than to protect you from exterior harms and to be his eyes while he cleans up after a massacre of witches in another city. Some new recruits were too hell bent during their first hunt, and it resulted in a bloodbath.

There's a small twitch to his leg when he inches a slow hand towards you, silently warning you of his incoming touch—San didn't know how to care for something and worried for a moment that you'd dislike the roughness of his hand. Droplets of rain pelted his head as he shielded your body from the crack above you. Arms curl under your knees and wrap around your back, cradling you to his chest—stiff as he makes his way to the bathing room.

He falters at the entrance, carefully setting you down before scrambling to steady you. Your knees were still too weak to bear your weight. With a quiet sigh, he pushes open the old wooden door and lifts you onto the bathroom counter, striking a few matches to chase away the darkness and ignite the array of candles scattered across the room.

"I'll, uh—leave you to it. I'll be outside right outside of the door so please don't do anything unsavory." His tone is unintentionally gruff, only accustomed to speaking to men with higher levels of testosterone than others, stepping back to nod and swiftly turn away.

A small clunk alerts him as you stare at him owlishly, arms still tied behind your back. You didn't seem to like talking much but were expressive enough to communicate without words—tapping a small finger against a cup carrying two wooden toothbrushes that clink charmingly while you attempt to alert him of your distress.

"Oh." A small flush decorates his neck, embarrassed at being caught so obviously wanting to leave. His hands dexterously unwind the silk and eyed the swelling imprints on your body. Again, a sinking feeling weighed his stomach and those open eyes—wide and expansive as the universe—adorned his heart and anchored it with guilt.

A hand shakily reaches to grab at his shirt sleeve, sliding down the counter to the best of your abilities, leaning and standing against him. "Why are you leaving?" The voice that finally leaves you renders him breathless—almost a bell-like whisper tumbling to form a genuine question.

"To give you privacy." San's direct reply still confused you— his expressionless face gazed down at your form, but not unkindly.

You give a slow blink, thoughts thumbing through your database of a mind—but don't recall learning this particular form of etiquette since arriving to the mortal realm. "I don't know... how to do it myself."

It was an honest reply, not performatively sweet or innocent yet all the more enticing.

"You don't know how to do it yourself?" San's eyebrows shoot up, an incoming tide of dread contorting his face into slow horror. Fuck, Hwa's gonna kill him.

"I didn't know Human's didn't wash or accompany one another to this—chamber?" You hesitated on the word, unsure if it was right. Your cheeks warmed as the silence stretched, a quiet worry creeping in—maybe you were saying it all wrong. Seonghwa didn’t like it when you got things wrong or asked too many questions—it always ended badly. His quiet anger rendered you from sleep—a slow seduction crawling onto your bed to erase any desire to doubt him, and in the anxiety, you'd cave into your disturbing yearning for him. Scrambling quietly, you attempt to correct your mistake

Seonghwa didn't even allow you to be alone in the restroom—just how far gone was he? San's eyes furrow and you grow increasingly afraid. He tugs you lightly towards the bathtub, holding you upright with an arm wrapped around your waist before pointing around.

"Here, I'll get it set up for you. Just watch and learn." Shrugging off his coat finally, San takes a moment to explain what each knob was meant to do, measuring hot temperatures from cold, and instructing that you don't use only one knob, else you'd burn your skin or freeze. Hands are flying around, pointing at strange knobs. You stand and try your absolute best to take it all in diligently, but you feel your eyes spin. San stiffens for a moment, realizing he’s rambling before turning to look at your expression of devoted seriousness. Fidgeting, your small hands clutch at your dress, accidentally squeezing out some of the rainwater weighing it. To be honest, you didn't want to do it yourself. While you were anxious around San, you craved and welcomed any other interactions from outsiders—but you didn't know how to approach without the words getting stuck in your throat and berating yourself for sounding stupid.

San takes notice of your anxiety, sighing out into the air and gazing up at the ceiling, backing down from his previous resolve. "What does he do for bath time?" He grumbles out, eyebrows furrowing—positively disturbed by the task.

Muscle memory clicks as soon as you hear his frustrated tone, and you wait for permission to speak. Your eyes strain and San tilts his head in confusion. Truly—he's starting to feel like Angel's spoke a different language entirely. "Well? Got any answers for me?" He prods, a little exasperated. Of all the tasks Seonghwa could've given him— bathing the object of his absolutely heinous obsession wasn't exactly on the top of his list. He couldn't say no to the heir, else he'd likely summon the murder of his family. The life of a hunter and the society's hierarchical structure wasn't one for the weak—and once sworn onto the path, no descendant can escape without wiping out their entire line.

"He puts little 'bombs' into my bath and scrubs my skin to keep it soft. I'm unsure about my hair though." Almost mechanically, you let out a reiteration of what you faintly recall Seonghwa explaining to you—he lathered a multitude of fragrant oils in your hair and removed all labels to ensure you never tried to do it yourself. San seemed to have caught onto the label situation with an anguished groan. Christ—what is wrong with that man—and why was he destined to monitor his strange tyrannies? Another faint grumble leaves his lips.

"Fine." You don't reply, immediately taking his words as both permission and a command, before reaching behind your back to drag the zipper down your spine. San feels his heart jump to his throat, frozen at the wake of your shamelessness.

Shimmying out of your undergarments, a part of you anticipates small praise at your immediate response. As much as you abhorred Seonghwa, you indulged in his sweetness from time to time, and your all-time favorite treat is whenever he flippantly calls you his good girl. A soft grin would gracefully pull at his lips, unreadable marbled face in the state of calm Nirvana as he'd watch you memorize his wants without needing to explicitly tell you. This is why he couldn't let you go— you were a juxtaposition of many things, contradictory in your existence and pale desire, perfectly malleable—maintaining the delicate amount of innocence necessary to constantly indulge in corrupting you. You were naive and doll-like; ethereal and dishonest. You're glowing, legs practically thumping— waiting to hear that you were best girl ever. San's eyes twitch, appalled

The slowly gliding of your panties drift down to the slim of your ankle and you lift a leg up, waiting for San to pull it off as Seonghwa always did for you. His face reddens at the sight of you exposing your opening, cunt clenching due to your movements and exposing the fleshy insides. A thick finger raises to curl into the loop of the fabric, pulling it off and successfully avoiding coming in contact with your skin. San's never seen a naked woman in this circumstance—only ever during moments that called for an objective view; torn clothes in order to dress wounds, ritualistic practice, paintings even. Not this. He’s never taken time to really notice his lack of motivation to indulge in desire—too busy playing guard dog to love or want anything properly. A woman has never laid in San's bed, and she’s certainly never stood this close to him completely nude either.

The sound of his heart thrumming silences everything else, your figure suddenly deifying before him, as if watching Venus rise from her beloved waters—born into immediate beauty. He swallows thickly, Adam's apple bobbing once an unfamiliar heat throbs and thickens in his jeans. San's eyes glance down fleetingly before freezing at the hardness that greets him. You catch sight of the obvious bulge and immediately fall onto your knees, wanting to help.

You didn't hate San and Seonghwa might reward you with an outing if you were good and took care of his San while he was away—instantly brightening at the idea. Seonghwa called them dates and always gave you things he noticed interested you on the way back—shiny rocks, flora, perfectly smooth sticks, and even let you play in the stream for a while.

Heat slicks in between your legs in response and San almost shrieks when you rub your cheek against his hard on. "WOAH—CHRIST. Please get away from there."

You immediately comply, confused and saddened. He almost groans at your downturned eyes—the constraint of his jeans bordering on painful. "You don't need help?" There it is. That voice of yours.

Perhaps he'd prefer if you didn't speak after all. Though he's unsure if he could handle being in the presence of your body language any longer either.

San's eyes squeeze together, exasperated. It was clear that Seonghwa taught you mannerisms with the intention of never integrating you into society. He wholeheartedly meant to house you here for as long as he could and San feared that Seonghwa would put his life on the line to ensure you weren't taken away from him.

Which also meant that if Hwa's life was endangered, San had no choice but to get dragged into this—and he couldn't resolve this with your murder. That’d only invite more chaos and Seonghwa's already clearly unwell enough as is.

A tired, anguished, and clearly fabricated smile wiggled its way onto his lips. "I'm...perfectly fine. Let's just get you cleaned up." San swears his soul left his body but steeled himself to see the situation objectively.

There's a cold Angel in the tub who didn't know how to bathe herself.

He convinces himself it's like having to take care of a pet and continues to avoid looking at you any more than he needs to, guiding you into the tub.

You sigh quietly in relief, goosebumps raising on your skin before gazing at him expectantly.

"What is it this time?" He deadpans.

Blinking owlishly, you reply simply

"Bomb."

Your hands are folded together as you try to contain your excitement. Watching the little bomb fizzle and buoy around the water filled you with joy. San yawns into his hand, eying you strangely.

What a peculiar specimen.

Bored, he lays his chin on his palm, losing track of the time passing. After playing in the water a bit, you bravely hand him a small loofah.

"Scrub?"

Ah, that's right. He's playing Seonghwa's role.

Rolling his sleeves up, San grabs the loofah, fumbling with the various bottles littering the bathroom—his hair sticking out due to the humidity and matting with sweat. After taking his best guess, he lathers your body, hoping he wasn't being too rough. Hwa would kill him.

You remain still, not wanting to disturb his process, shifting your head only whenever he needed to get into a particular crevice. A small heat pricks you again when you felt the roughness of his hands glide around your body, instinctively spreading your knees wide enough to knock them against the ceramic edges of the tub. San's laser focused on his task, suddenly dedicated to the nearly tantric calmness the distraction provided him. It's when he grabs your left hand to scrub lightly at your nail beds that his breath hitches when he fleetingly meets the expression on your face.

Red splotches decorate your body, heat dampening you around the edges as you stared at him with glazed eyes. Whenever Seonghwa was here and you were less stubborn, you'd begrudgingly ask him to help you with the fever—saying it was his responsibility because it was his doing to begin with.

“What is it?” San utters hesitantly, moving to continue with his light scrubbing, hair falling into his eyes that pointed downward to avoid yours again

You've never had to explain this heat to someone else—partially still not having the same understanding of the body as Human's do. Seonghwa explained that it was a natural phenomenon, one as natural as water is to the sea: desire was to the body. Though, Angels never took part in these customs, and you felt like the more you indulged your curiosity, the further you got from home—too human to live within Eden. It was natural but it felt like a dark cesspool of filth. Filth you strangely enjoyed rolling around in despite your behest—a painfully delightful and pricey unraveling. Was it wrong? It felt like it was.

"I'm warm." Owlish eyes greet his own feline curve, and he reaches over to turn the knob to let a little bit of cool water enter before he registers the lukewarm temperature, the heat having long left the bath. "Have you been in the water for too long—" San begins innocently, shaking off the water on the tips of his fingers to turn and look at you before taking note of that heated look in your eyes—anguished even.

Oh god, what else does he have to do now?

You inch a hand forward, grabbing his palm and placing it flat against your cunt, unblinking— "I'm warm." You hope he understands what you mean, having no other words to explain. A small urgency sparks within you, but you didn't want to ask anything that might anger him or say anything stupid.

San's never felt this texture— the silk of a woman, and suddenly all of the conversations his men had made sense. Is this what a woman's body feels like? Her warmth?

How can he touch you with the intention to cool you and not look any further? He feels where the soft skin separates and beckons him inwards, pulsing—yearning for the absence to be filled. The lukewarm water licks at the edges of his dress shirts rolled sleeves, and the heat is moderately dizzying, unable to think straight in the strange conditions.

He reminds himself of his position, knowing that there'd be no way Seonghwa wouldn't find out—senses too sharp and observation of you much too detailed— to allow room for another man to touch you without his noticing.

It's Seonghwa's fault that you didn't know any better, but he also couldn't risk going out of his way to teach you, and he could see a small pain in your eyes that still didn't understand the concept of hunger.

If Seonghwa caught wind of you offering yourself to someone, San doesn't want to think about what punishments he'd deal to you and the person on the other end of it. Your wide, expectant eyes gaze at him—unknowingly pleading and he internally curses at you for your naivety. Shutting his eyes in acceptance, he searches his brain for middle ground.

"No matter what, you can't tell Seonghwa. Okay? You'll have to guide me." His tone is resigned, coating itself in hopes of preserving his desire to deal with by himself later on his alone time.

You nod obediently, not completely understanding why you couldn't tell Seonghwa but agreeing nonetheless as San moves the bath stool closer to the edge of tub—trying his best to get into a position comfortable enough to wrap his arms around you to reach your intimacy. Tugging at his shirt lightly, San immediately shakes his head.

"I'm not taking off my clothes." You don't say anything in reply, admitting defeat silently. Once he realizes all attempts are futile—every position promising an awkward hunched back—San almost caves and moves to take off his clothes before you pull him, falling to the impulse of your impatience and forcing him to fall into the tub, still clothed.

He's completely stumped, stabbing at you with his wide-eyed gaze and pointed glare. San pulls you towards him, back flattened against his hard chest completely as he boldly slithers a hand between your legs in frustration.

"Be good. Stop being impatient." He chastises gruffly. You mutter a small yes, wanting so badly to be good— you were always told you existed for that very reason. It felt familiar, almost light— a reprieve from the guilt and gift of your desire.

You squeeze yourself closer, getting comfortable from your place between his legs. Happy to feel the warmth radiating from him and the act of being cradled. San's middle finger experimentally runs itself along your slit and you flinch— he stops immediately, worrying that he's already done something wrong with self-deprecating shame and furrowed brows.

The sound of a small moan leaving your mouth raises the hair on his arms, a strange fascination slowly burning into his body. Again, he runs his finger up and down slowly. Sighing, your lay your head back to rest against the junction between his collarbone and neck.

San's cheek rests against your temple as he stares down between your legs, focusing on the task when he finds a small, firm bud. A loud squeak of surprise leaves you, deliciously over-sensitive at the unintentionally hard press. Easing up his touch, he flicks over it curiously before asking

"Show me what makes you feel good." You tilt your head back holding eye contact curiously before you reach a hand down experimentally, pushing his to the side to touch yourself when he shakes his head.

"No, show me." He instructs and your eyes lighten in understanding, grabbing his hands and guiding them to your cunt. Leading one to softly rub small circles around your clit before pressing another one against your entrance.

"This goes inside of me." You've never pressed your lips against anyone other than Seonghwa, but you instinctively find yourself reaching up to curl an arm around his neck—silently asking for him to part his lips.

San doesn't remember the last time he's had the time to kiss a girl. He wasn't so inexperienced that he's never tasted another person, at the very most.

Yet there was something enticing, welcoming even—about the warmth surrounding your aura like an all-encompassing halo and he finds himself leaning in to capture your kiss. Simultaneously, he dips the tip of his finger inside of you and furrows his eyebrows at the sudden rise in restraint necessary to stop himself from doing anything other than his duty to relieve you. Your cunt clenches, sucking him in until the second notch of his finger eases inside of you, knees knocking together and San smacks your inner thigh lightly, signaling you to keep them spread.

He eases his tongue into the hollow of your mouth, twisting it around yours slowly, wet sounds clashing at the infrequent separating of your lips, Smacks echo and are accompanied by the slow drip of the faucet. A low groan eases out of him when you delicately wrap your doll-like lips around his tongue, lightly sucking and kissing the flat of its pink flesh. Prominent veins stretch along the expanse of his neck, tensing when he presses his lips against you harder, caving into your form deeply. Resuming slow pumps, his other hand reaches to rub small circles around your clit, occasionally offering a small flick to its surface. An open mouthed mewl leaves you, small pants decorating the curve of his jaw when he unlatches his lips from yours—unconsciously kissing the side of your temple.

"More please." You beg politely and he can only oblige at the sweetness of your tender tone. San curves another finger into you, moving his other hand away to fasten the pace of the one remaining inside of you. The flat of his palm slaps against your clit and you arch your back in response, a small scream leaving you as the bath water splashes against the swelling plump of your chest.

Unable to resist, he slides his free hand to cusp your left tit—rolling his thumb against your perked nipple and grasping onto it with a sudden strength that had you gyrating your hips against his hand. The friction of your bare ass rubs against the submerged fabric of his pants and doesn't stop himself from grinding up into the squishy flesh. A pitched moan leaves his mouth, a small "ah!" at the sudden foreign sensitivity and pleasure invading his body. San loses all attempts at being soft with you, staring at your cunt taking his thick fingers repeatedly. Slick coats his fingers when he momentarily takes them out to slide them to caress your pussy lips.

Your hips chase his hand, whining a bit at the sudden emptiness.

"Be a good girl and cum for me, yeah?" San peppers small kisses onto your cheeks, begging lightly. He seriously needed you to. Else he'd lose his virginity in a fucking mausoleum to the one girl he really couldn't afford to and risk a death sentence. Seonghwa was too methodical for murdering in a fit of rage—he'd actively search for the unconventional, hitting precisely where it'd kill the soul slowly.

You never took note of how distinct San's voice was until it was muttering uncharacteristically sweet into your ear with a soft encouragement.

Your stomach clenched and coiled, and you reached down to hold his wrist and propel his hand into yourself before you found your release with a shout, chest heaving at the strength of your relief.

"You're such a good girl. Feeling better now?" San's hand rubs at your tummy softly in circles, calming your body as it melted back into him. His hold on you was different—warm in a way that didn't burn but eased you into a puddle. You find yourself rising to turn in the tub to face him, raising your arms to cradle his cheek.

Seonghwa taught you this— a specific kiss that held the weight of gratitude he said.

San's floored at the softness of it—it's sweet and heavenly— all of things he should've known already and Seonghwa intuitively warned him it'd be. Lips wrap around his bottom lip to cradle it intentionally.

The palms of your hands hold him deceptively adoringly—everything Seonghwa trained you to do and more.

"Thank you, San." A small whisper leaves you and you curl into his soaked body, clutching at the wet fabric of his shirt and hiding your face in his neck. Comfortable and satisfied with his physical affection.

He realizes that it's the first time he's heard you utter his name, and it hits his heart like a metal pan—a harsh pang plummeting onto its surface like a cold, dead comet. Soft breaths hit his neck, and San feels your body slump slightly.

You fell asleep.

He shuts his eyes in horror, still unbelievably hard as he sighs into the palm he slams onto the center of his face with. If you're living proof of a God existing, he'll gladly send a prayer out in secret—hoping he'd survive a little longer to at least buy another pack of cigarettes since he's on his last leg.

San picks up your body, waking you up silently to dress you with clothes he found in the extra guest room. Guiding your languid body back to your area of the mausoleum and covering you with a blanket.

"I won't tie you tonight but please, for the love of God—don't try to escape." The sigil should be enough to hold you there, and frankly—he's not feeling up to the task of tying you intricately enough to satisfy Seonghwa if he were to return. Your eyes widen in alarm at the sound of him mentioning your father and you nod in panic. He snorts, tiredly amused.

He's received no word as of yet, which should buy him enough time to think about his actions moving forward. The rubbery sounds of his clothes echo throughout the corridor and San ends his night completely naked in the laundry room, waiting for his only outfit to dry.

It's comical really—the sight of a grown man naked pondering on a stool, waiting for his laundry to dry casually after touching a woman for the first time.

San was too tired to feel shame.

He's fucked out and horny in a way that he's never experienced before, and wonders if it's his belated puberty alas hitting him.

San stands and leans down to momentarily pause the laundry cycle. Reaching for a cardboard box he'd thrown in to dry alongside his clothes—satisfied with the extent of its drying before plucking the lone cigarette that sat in it. Lighting it with a sigh, San waits in nude contemplating silence, reflecting on the madness of his decisions for the next hour.

Seonghwa still hasn't returned.

Over the past two weeks, San has struggled to resist your advances in every conceivable way.

Like clockwork, he has either been left blue-balled or succumbed to your curious gaze whenever he tried to read his lone book while you watched him. Days turned into an unspoken routine—your innocent way of asking to be held without saying a word, and him pretending not to notice while already giving in to your unconscious desires.

He realized you were the cuddly type—naturally inclined to hold a hand or lean into a chest. For the past two weeks, he has been reading his book aloud, cradling you close, your back pressed against his chest, much like your first night alone together.

This is the exact position he finds himself in when he reads the final words of "Paradise Lost" by John Milton: “They, hand in hand, with wandering steps and slow, through Eden took their solitary way.” San mumbles, glancing at you to gauge your reaction to the ending.

Your eyebrows furrow briefly as you digest the words in momentary silence. "I don't understand," you say, gazing at San and awaiting his reply patiently, inquisitive as always.

He nods slowly and adjusts his slim glasses. "Adam and Eve fall from grace and are forced to leave the Garden of Eden," he summarizes simply.

"Why did they have to leave?" Your voice is soft, naturally otherworldly.

"Because they knew too much to stay and remain happy. Salvation to them was following the path from which there was no return," he explains. The silence from you feels heavier than usual.

Lately, you have been more talkative. Still not particularly chatty, but San has noticed things about you he shouldn't have—like your inherent pensiveness, curiosity, and how, in all your innocence, you are undeniably a woman. A beautiful one. There is a dichotomy to you, in all the ways you are wise and pensive, yet unavoidably naive to human social and bodily cues and customs.

Like this moment—you didn’t know how to bathe yourself just two weeks ago, yet you can sit here and question Milton with only your previous understandings of the celestial world and its functions.

You turn, tucking your face into the warmth of his neck as you quietly ask him to hold you. San draws you into his lap without hesitation, settling you with ease—your legs parting naturally, knees resting at either side of his hips. When your fingers begin to toy with a button on his vest, and your dress shifts so you can press closer against the firm center of him, he feels it again—that slow, stirring shift.

For the life of him, he doesn’t know how he’ll make it through this unscathed. It has become your daily ritual—to ask San to soothe your fevers—and like the guard dog he is, he obeys without question, devoted to obliging his lady (he sarcastically began calling you this after he realized he couldn’t help but cater to your every whim.) To be fair, there isn’t much else you need. You aren’t human; you require no water, no food, no sleep. And so, San fills the quiet hours by offering you stories from his books, the cyclical reprieve of his body, or letting you watch him eat—your gaze full of wonder, the simple act always putting you in a state of strange awe.

San makes sure to eat everything nice in the pantry, given that any meal could be his last. His hands slide to rest on your hips, leather gloves squeaking lightly at his tense grip.

"I taught you how to ask properly, Angel," he mutters softly, a disguised gentle reprimand. You blink, trying to calculate the proper words as instructed.

“I want you to touch me, San,” you say, your gaze lifting to meet his as you remain nestled in his lap, arms lazily looped around his neck.

He doesn’t answer right away—just stares, caught between exasperation and something that looks a lot like pride. You’re obedient, after all. Almost too obedient.

San sighs before leaning back flat on the ground. "Lift up your dress and come here," he instructs, dragging you to situate yourself above his face. You obey and lift the silk fabric just above your hips, and San immediately places his mouth over your lace panties.

The thin, airy fabric is immediately doused in spit. San licks up the creased lining, pressing into your skin, and your tummy clenches with a red-hot want. Gloved hands stroke soothingly over your thighs, massaging lightly at the skin and pushing you closer to his face. “Don’t hover—sit,” a gruff admonishment slides out of him, his neck aching from how he had to crane to meet your core.

San tugs your underwear to slide directly between your lips, pulling it a few times so it presses and massages the bud, and enjoys the sight of your puffed skin sandwiching the cloth.

You shiver when he eases a hand between your legs, pulling your underwear to the side to press an open-mouthed kiss against your cunt, and separating your lips with his tongue.

“San—it feels good,” you gasp, the confession ripped from you. Something in him breaks—splinters, like he's been holding back too long. He snarls, the sound low and feral, then yanks off his glove with his teeth, careless and shaking. His hand is on you in the next breath, fingers slick as he drives his middle and ring fingers into you—deep, unrelenting

You yelp, startled, clenching tightly around his fingers. Your body moves without permission—grinding softly against the press of San’s touch, his mouth. His cheeks are flushed, glasses fogging, and you find yourself staring, unsure why the sight pulls at something deep within you. Carefully—almost reverently—you reach to remove them, fingertips brushing warm skin. A sensation follows—gentle, strange. It spreads through your chest, unfamiliar and unnamed. You don’t understand it, but it doesn’t frighten you.

San feels it—the strange shift in the air that curdles his intestines, blooming like a wildflower in concrete, somewhere it shouldn’t be, but nonetheless continues to root itself in. The partly cloudy day reflects on your hair like a halo, dousing your body, and he’s suddenly even more aware of what sort of holiness he holds in his arms—that he even tastes it on his tongue like false salvation. A profound emotion of wanting to carve inside of you, to ease every burn in your body, and cater to your strangeness bleeds inside of him. San knows what this means—that although it is too soon to call it love, it is nonetheless devotion. Momentary fear throbs in him—

Did Seonghwa feel it too, in the beginning? Was he lost from the start—or did he slowly unravel, seduced by the gravity of your existence, slipping over time into the skin of a madman, his fall from grace etched in stone?

He pushes the thought away—now’s not the time to contemplate dread. The sooner he gets you off, the sooner you both can go on with your day.

A slow lap flicks at your clit, the stringy liquid attaching itself to the tip of San’s tongue—following his movements as he slides and sandwiches it between your folds, drinking in the sounds of your melodic moans. His fingers piston themselves inside of you, curling up to graze a spongy spot, and you spark up—eyes seeing stars.

A desperation inside of you wells before it reaches a boiling point—you want more. This isn’t enough for you.

It clicks in your mind before you can fully process what it means. You’ve done this with Seonghwa countless times, but back then, you were too raw—too angry and unmoored to truly sit with the feeling of wanting someone inside you. Desire was still a foreign language, one you hadn't yet learned to speak fluently.

You hold your stomach and reach a hand down to hold San’s cheek, pausing him. He eyes you curiously—bottom half of his face glistening with slick. “Everything okay up there?” A dry remark leaves San, accompanied by a raised brow despite his best efforts at being softer with you—losing his mind at the thought of having to beat off in the bathroom after this for the third time today.

“I want more.” You confess, hesitant—gazing down at him like he was a puzzling thing. You push his head down, shaking your head when he moves to drag his tongue down and into you with more fervor. San’s eyes flick around your face, looking around for an expression he’s registered and committed to memory. He finds himself at a standstill, despite typically being able to read you like a dog-eared book. And so he waits for the words to fall out of you on their own, as they often did once he was patient enough to truly learn you.

“I think… I want more of you.” Wonder coats your honeyed tone, and you reach out to cup his warm cheek.

San stills at your words, a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts invading his mind, but he fumbles to regain his composure.

“I don’t think you fully understand what that means, Angel,” he says, offering a shaky smile as he gently tries to urge you away, not wanting to rush you into something you might not fully comprehend.

“San,” you say softly, requesting a pause to calm his anxious thoughts. He takes a deep breath and looks at you expectantly.

“I’m still adjusting to these urges,” you explain. “Parts of me want to resist, to hold onto the world I knew, but I’ve given in to Seonghwa’s touch again and again. I’m still learning, San, what it means to have a body, and I feel it. I don’t fully understand it, but I want you, as I’ve wanted Seonghwa. But I want you differently. It’s easier to want you…it doesn’t feel like a sin.” You exhale, as if confessing a secret.

To Seonghwa, these words would be sacrilegious in his doctrine. San knows this. Something’s burning off in his stomach, fragments of the desire he’s forced himself to chew off were coming together to form a dark mass.

The silence is thick, broken only by the faint rustling of nature outside the marble walls of your private sanctuary. A drop of your wetness trails down to San’s cheek, snapping him out of his internal struggle. A ravenous hunger consumes him, and he hoists you up, sliding out from between your legs and pulling you close with a searing kiss.

Groans escape his lips as he kisses you deeply, his mouth moving sloppily across your jaw and neck, nipping and breathing heavily into the hollow of your throat. His arm snakes up your leg, tugging your underwear down as a small whimper of anticipation escapes you.

This desperation is new to San, a feeling he’s never experienced so intensely. It makes sense now—the verses and prose written throughout the ages about the carnality of desire. He scoffs at his past self for thinking he was superior for never having experienced it. There’s no muscle memory here, only sheer instinct—a fragility hanging in the air as San loses the last of his innocence.

San shivers as your nail gently drags across his hard-on, slipping a finger between the teeth of his zipper to slowly pull it down. Your curiosity guides your hands as you explore his body, something you’ve never done in the two weeks he’s been caring for you. The flush on his face spreads from his nose to his cheekbones, and his chest heaves with anticipation.

Should he tell you he’s never done this before?

His other still gloved hand reaches out to grab your wrist, and he gazes into your eyes.

“It’s my first time,” he admits, trying to sound casual, but his voice betrays his anxiety.

You blink slowly, processing his words.

“Your first time being touched?” you ask, and San stifles a laugh, feeling suddenly inexperienced by comparison.

“I suppose it’s my first time being inside, Angel,” he says, a mix of embarrassment and defeat in his voice.

“Oh, I get it. That’s okay,” you reply simply, and San exhales, ready for you to pull away before you move to slide down the top of his boxers. You lay a soft kiss on the underside of his cock and take his tip into your mouth. San’s body tenses, and his hands shoot out to clench his thighs, eyes squeezing shut to keep them from rolling back.

“Fuck,” he whimpers, overwhelmed by the sensation of your mouth wrapped around him, soft and silky, working him with your throat. What has Seonghwa been teaching you? He shakes his head briefly. Probably doesn’t want know.

San is particularly well-endowed, and he’s aware of it. He watches you, worried, as you take him deeper, feeling your saliva dribble down his shaft. His skin turns pink and engorged, and a small gag escapes you as he hits the back of your throat.

San’s hips rise, folding into your face as he shakes with pleasure. You guide his hand to your head, looking up at him curiously.

“What is it?” San asks, sweat beading his brow as he grits his teeth, trying to understand what you want from him.

Your words are muffled, so you push his hand against your head again, telling him it’s okay to control your movements. The vulgarity of it all sends a rush of heat to his face. Unable to resist, he thrusts deeper into you, pleasure drowning out the sounds of your struggle. His other hand moves to cup your cheek, groaning at the feeling of his cock moving in your mouth.

“Wait—I’m gonna cum,” he warns, using the last of his willpower to slide your mouth off him. A string of saliva remains attached to your bottom lip, and he’s captivated by the sight of your teary, red face.

Saliva smears across your jaw, and San knows there’s no going back. You take a moment to catch your breath, blinking away residual tears, and wait patiently for San’s next move.

Your gaze pulls him in like a magnet, and he crushes his lips against yours in a fiery kiss. His hands grip your hair, tilting your neck back as he slides his tongue into your mouth, sucking on yours eagerly. He’s panting as he unravels your dress with practiced hands, having tied and untied your corsets daily. He peels off the last of the fabric concealing you from his eyes.

By the gods, you're beautiful. You were worthy of the crime he was about commit, on the edge of betraying the strange man he was born to protect.

Though his hands are often on you, San has made a quiet effort not to look too long trying, in his own way, to soften the weight of his wanting and make it easier to swallow. But today, he can hardly blink. He dips down, taking your left breast into his mouth, nipping gently as if to memorize the way your body trembles, the soft mewl spilling from you like a wave pulled towards the moon.

He marks your swelling chest with slow, deliberate bites, his tongue flicking over your nipple before sealing the moment with a wet, reverent kiss. Your fingers find the buttons of his vest, working them open before slipping his dress shirt from his shoulders—pausing only to admire how the sunlight sets fire to his golden skin. When you lean in to nip at his collarbone, San moans, low and shaken, his hands gliding over your bare form like he’s trying to memorize every inch before he loses control.

There’s a silence in the air, a stillness broken only by the dancing dust particles in the light. When San lays you onto the cold marble, shrugging off the last of his clothes and tossing them aside, he stills himself between your legs. The moment is reminiscent of a prayer as he kneels before you, your legs parted like a pathway to heaven—your slick dripping onto the floor, cunt clenching around nothing, begging for him to fill you.

San lets out a shaky breath, sheathing himself slowly into you. He immediately presses his temple against yours to gather himself. You litter small kisses onto his cheekbone, stuttering out a moan as he slides out and then back in fully.

San feels drunk on the sensation of you wrapped around him, willing himself to savor the moment and not finish too quickly.

"W-wait please." He stutters out softly when your hips roll against him, hitting his pelvis—already damp with the slick you rubbed against him in the process. San tenses once the sensitivity hits him at full force, trying to hone in on your small palms grasping his jawline.

With his eyes open, it finally hits him—undeniable and heavy that nothing will wash away the image of your silhouette draped on the dreaded mausoleum floor, as the dust particles billowed around your energetic halo like soft winter. His palm drags itself down the softness of your stomach, cradling the flesh around your form—so willingly full of him and he thinks he wants to sit inside of your forever, and pales at the thought.

He couldn't afford you.

Not in the ways he needed to be able to.

However—he did nothing to stop himself from rolling into you with a sudden desperation, wanting to fill the hollowness of his thoughts.

He hated that even now, Seonghwa's presence seemed to fill the air—branding and consuming your habitual desires that were a mere extension of his deliberate teachings

In a flicker of fragile honesty, he admits he could never refuse you. His body never stood a chance—but now, unsettlingly, his heart might be tangled in it too.

A gasp, an opening, a tongue in mouth: the minutes pass as sweat drips down from San's body, and he memorizes every gap formed between your bodies, praying that somehow his heart will be torn away in the process.

Yet desire persists and consumes him with an open jaw, breaking him open until he's crashing against your whimpering and delirious body—leaning to teethe at your neck and grope at the swell of your breasts. Hands drag to the dips of your waist, squeezing the skin until it bloomed red, craving to bring you as close as possible to the act of bleeding.

San wanted you and feared that his desire would sentence him to his own damnation—

And so, he carved into you with a sort of violence his usual attempt at softness never permitted, and you welcomed him as a means to fill the gaps to ease a desire you may never understand or compute for who it may actually be for.

His hips smacked against your skin, filling you to the brim until cream wrapped around the smoothness of his cock, repetitive motions unknowingly sealing your shared fate.

A throbbing vein,

the betrayal of his own visible pulse,

and most of all— his lips that couldn't seem to stop their spewing of sweet nothings even at the firmness of his actions.

"Is this okay, Angel?" He breathes, panting against your mouth, stomach churning at how beautiful you look—at how grace seemed to be imbued even in the simple action of a subtle nod to your head.

San was betraying himself—every law he'd lived by, every truth etched into his bones—but your mouth was the most real thing he'd ever touched. Centuries of inherited hatred unraveled themselves beneath the lips of a girl too innocent to understand what men like him and Seonghwa truly were, or how they hunted—like wolves, by nature, not choice.

San was raised to be subservient to Hwa but that didn't unwrite his own genetically imbued violence—the irrefutable instinct to conquer and own.

And for the first time in his life, San prayed for and pitied his hunt—cumming into you so as to not deny himself his long-awaited reprieve, before gazing down at the tragically beautiful mess he's made in more ways than one. Your chest rises in shallow breaths, hands gliding up his body, wrapping tenderly around his neck.

There's a particular warmth you feel when you press your skin against San's—one you'd never found or experienced, even in Eden's pastures. It flickered in the air like a sunspot, and you curled into him slowly, syncing your breaths to his heartbeat.

Did Seonghwa ever feel like this?

You think you miss him, but the thought of his name falls hollow like an empty shell into your heart: all remnants of war and nothing at all like a day in the sun.

San found himself in a sticky, sticky predicament.

He failed to gauge his own desperation and found himself spoiling your appetites to excess, which have only seemed to worsen after your first sin.

What used to be early mornings spent gazing at his chewing mouth morphed into an ugly, saturated desperation that manifested in hiking you up and fucking you hard into the kitchen counter and having to profusely apologize for the small and swelling bump on the back of your head after it repeatedly banged against the cupboard door.

He's even lost count of how many times you've woken him up, mouth stuffed full of his cock, and blinking up at him like you could do no wrong. It seems you've developed a bit of an attachment for San, trailing after him in silence wherever he went.

Showers? You were there clinging to his leg, not minding the water flooding your eyes as you blankly sat in the tub—unbothered and patiently waiting for his "bath time" to end. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner? He had to maneuver around your body to avoid accidentally knocking you with a knife or a pan because you held onto him like a second skin.

San tried his best to appease you and yet you ate at his body, energy, and hours with a level of gluttony more similar in form to a demon rather than an angel.

He held onto the headboard of Seonghwa's bedframe for dear life as you rode him like your life depended on it, after you followed him into the room when he left to grab you a change of clothes. You easily made your way in, interrupting his internal debate on whether a pair of lace or floral socks would accompany your baby doll dress better.

San made it a nasty habit to finish inside of you—too entranced by the look and feel of it to reprimand himself the amount he should've.

This is exactly how he falls into the horridness of the day he dreaded for the last few weeks.

Moments after your escapade, you slip back into your designated corner of the morose establishment—just as the faint clank of the mausoleum’s hidden entrance echoes through the dust-laden air. The sound of jagged stone dragging against the rigid entrance of the doorway stirs something in you, a slow flood of anticipation laced with unease.

When Seonghwa walks in, he immediately takes note of the stillness in the room—sharp eyes drinking in your form for the first time in weeks, squinting minutely at the womanly softness gracing your face. He came immediately after the final mission debrief in a hurry, still donning a pristine suit and slicked back white hair. Only a few strands now poking his forehead expose the rush he was in.

He makes a small movement, almost unnoticeable, to gaze at San, and clenches his jaw at the sight of the flush decorating his nose bridge. Seonghwa marches forward; quiet, elegant, and dreadfully beautiful as he approaches you— fear, admiration, and denial painting your tummy in a confusing amalgamation of emotions. He leans to press a small kiss to your jawline, patting your hair down, and stares at you for a couple of moments.

“Dearest, have you been good?” his voice is a soft, melodic mutter and a sudden queasiness overwhelms you. You have been, right? Then why can’t the words fall out of you truthfully?

His eyes sharpen at your lack of reply, a simple command fluttering out of his mouth

“Spread your legs and lift your dress.”

You immediately comply, lifting the soft white lace to your stomach and Seonghwa immediately pushes your underwear to the side before shoving two fingers inside of you—noting the slickness between them and how easily they slid inside of you.

His breathing stills as he removes his hand to reveal cum coated fingers. Eyes burning, Seonghwa’s head flicks over to San, holding his fingers up in quiet anger on the verge of boiling over.

“Care to tell me what my dog’s been doing while I’ve been away?” He seethes, voice teetering from its usually performative gentleness.

San squeezes his eyes shut, already knowing this would happen. Your own eyes widen, recalling one of San’s first warnings to you— “If I do this for you, don’t tell Seonghwa.”

Did you put him at risk? Horror fills your body.

San doesn’t respond and merely moves his gaze to the floor.

“Well? Does anybody have a lovely explanation? And you—“He flips back to you with a shaking finger and a tsk.

“—and you, my angel, seem to need to be educated on manners. Specifically, on how to host a guest and not fuck them. Bad girl.” Seonghwa pinches his nose bridge in annoyance, tapping his foot as he stared at the two people he rightfully owned: his own personal guard dog since birth and the angel he earned through…trial and error—but that’s beside the point.

Pointing at San, Seonghwa instructs firmly

“Kneel.”

Wide eyes flick up to gaze at him in surprise, but San obliges, nonetheless. Seonghwa pulls his tie off before slowly walking towards him, and the boy stiffens as his footsteps drift closer, echoing throughout the hallowed hall.

San’s vision is immediately obscured by the thick navy cloth of Seonghwa’s tie, and flinches at the sudden darkness.

“Hwa, what are you— “He attempts to question, a dry tone leaving him in exasperation.

“Don’t even speak. Don’t move either or God so help me, your entire lineage will fall to my sword.” The words are tense, promising.

Seonghwa’s step fade away, moving towards you once again. Leaning down to capture your lips and your body is a fire—burning and yearning for him beyond all logic. It knows him best and it’s craved him despite your admonishments.

"I didn't explain this because I thought it was obvious, but you aren't supposed to offer yourself to anyone else, stupid girl." He chides casually.

"You're mine. In life and in death. If you want to play with my puppy so badly, fine. Both of you will pay the price." There's a promise in his words, and you worried for San. Seonghwa takes note of this—gaze sharpening again and distorting his typically cherubic features with a wolfish grin.

"Now, will you be a good girl today? I don't have the patience to deal with your dishonesty to your body."

You didn't think you had it in you to deny Seonghwa today either. Your body called for him, growing wet at the sight of his familiar beauty that invoked a strange comfort now. You nod, staying silent and await his next orders.

"Strip and bend over." A sharp inhale comes from San, as he comes to the slow understanding of Seonghwa's intention.

He's going to take you while he's in the room.

The sound of your rustling clothes spur both his imagination and memory, and his pants grow stiff as he grits his teeth in restraint.

Your nipples harden at their exposure to the cold air, goosebumps raising as you stare meekly into Seonghwa's eyes. More than likely, due to San's spoiling affection, you dare yourself to step forward and wrap your arms around the slim of his neck.

Seonghwa's dead eyes maintain their dull pallor, face unmoving but he can’t deny that his heart stuttered at the wake of your foreign approach. When you reach up to kiss him with an apology laid out on your tongue, he melts into you slightly and brushes away his white hair—pulling stray strands entangling themselves on your tongues.

He reaches a hand to pull hard at your hair, smacking your hip

"You're going to take it today, yes?"

"Yes—"

"Yes, what?" He deadpans questioningly.

"Yes sir." Your big eyes are clear like spring.

He turns his head slightly to San "Did she bathe recently?" It was a double-sided question he already knew the answer to. San slowly nods, blindfold still intact and rustling against the collar of his shirt.

Seonghwa side eyes you for a moment.

"I wanted to take my time in training you to take me in other ways, but today seems suitable, given that we have such an esteemed guest with us." He turns you around, pressing you against an old statue. "Hold on tightly." is all he says, before sliding two fingers in your cunt, immediately smacking into it repeatedly. A small scream leaves you at the suddenness, spine straightening at the brutality of his ministrations.

"Don't forget who taught you how to use this fucking cunt. You're a stupid little thing—an object. A little cock sleeve who gets mindlessly fucked when she's good." He spreads his fingers to widen you, and you whimper at the stretch. Your slick splashes itself onto his palms before you jolt at the feeling of his finger rimming around your ass.

"Hwa?" You question, apprehensive. He'd been putting strange objects into your other end for weeks, and it felt strange—different from how it usually felt whenever Hwa was inside of you.

"Stay still." He pulls his fingers out of you and walks to his room. You overhear the sounds of him rummaging through his dresser before returning, stationing himself behind you when you feel a thick, cold substance being poured onto your ass. "I was going to wait, but I really don't feel like it anymore." He lathers his tongue around his middle and ring finger, before popping them in your ass, pulling out to push the lube inside.

You yelp at the burning stretch, eyes widening in realization. "Wait—why there?"

"Why not there, is the question—What do you think I've been doing with that ass of yours?" He says simply, unbuttoning his slacks and vest haphazardly, lathering the heavy pink flesh with lube.

"Now, are you going to take it like a good girl or are you going to be the biggest pain in my ass?" His tone is light, and he stills behind you—waiting for your confirmation.

There was a part of you both fearful yet curious of the incoming pain. Whenever Seonghwa experimented on the other relatively unused... end of yours, new sensations would drift through you—dancing between pain and small blips of ecstasy as time progressed.

However, you had no idea if you could fit Seonghwa inside. "Hwa, it won't fit." Seonghwa reaches a hand to stroke your cheek in momentary softness.

"There you go doubting yourself again. Have I ever been wrong, my love?" His voice is sweet, soothing even; serpentine and lovely in all of the worst ways. "Need I remind you how I fit so well in you already?"

Seonghwa pushes inside of your cunt with one thrust, burying himself to the hilt. A shaky, exhilarated sigh leaves him, eyes rolling before he grits his teeth in frustration when he feels San's remnants and proceeds to pound into you intentionally. Silent screams leave you, open mouth dragging down the statue as you struggled to hold yourself up.

San is left entirely forgotten, chest heaving at your sounds. This feels like torture. He's queasy at the thoughts overwhelming him. Of course, Seonghwa knew your body better. A chuckle breaks his reverie, as Seonghwa peers at San with dark eyes without his knowledge. "You can take the blindfold off, San." He says dryly, pounding away at you and reaching to wrap an arm around your waist to hold your body up when your knees weaken.

San hesitates

"Come on, Sannie. You don't wanna see my angel?" The words are a deceptively gentle encouragement but were in reality—a thinly veiled mockery.

San sighs, unraveling the blindfold, and his jaw goes slack at the sight of you getting absolutely wrecked. You don't register San, body going numb and mind blank at the incessant banging against your cervix. Seonghwa beckons San over with a silent finger.

He moves you to kneel on the floor, and you do so obediently— before nudging you into San's arms.

"Hold her upright" is all he says before he pours another round of lube onto you, sliding in his middle and ring finger. You hiss at the burn, clutching onto San's sleeves with teary eyes but say nothing. San observes your expression, soothing your body with his hands and pulls your head to rest against his chest. He can't help the morose look decorating his eyes and Seonghwa scoffs.

"Oh, how sweet." He deadpans before sliding out his cock to ease his tip into your ass.

"—ah!" You gasp, eyes flying open.

"Hang in there for me." He grins before shoving himself further into you with shallow thrusts. You crane your head to San, silently begging for his kiss before Seonghwa's hand intercepts, fingers crawling into your mouth to use it as a pulling force to enter you entirely. He only waits for a singular moment before jumpstarting his pace.

San can't seem to force himself to look away at Seonghwa's brutal force, eyes glossed over at the sight of your ass rippling at the force he slapped into you with—the grotesque squelches of him pummeling into your ass and balls patting your cunt with an awe-inspiring vulgarity distracts him from his insecurities.

He sees the sudden dark vacancy in your eyes, almost doll-like as you still to let Seonghwa take you in whatever way he wanted. There wasn't a singular thought behind them— you were gone. Seonghwa seemed to sense this with a sharp smile, cooing down at you

"Is my dumb little angel enjoying getting fucked in the ass? You're fucking disgusting." You moan out in reply, falling into San's lap as Seonghwa only seems to dig deeper into you, and nod in reply. Your brain couldn't compute anything outside of Seonghwa's body and words.

Seonghwa's eyes brighten maniacally before leaning down to speak directly into your ear. Stilling completely and chuckling as you drive your ass back onto his cock in desperation.

Slick drips down your thighs, pussy clenching around nothing—crying at the emptiness inside of it.

"You'd do anything for me, won't you?" He asks lightly, a kind suggestion.

"Anything." You reply instantly.

Bingo.

"Renounce your God for me." The smile on his face practically splits passed his cheekbones. San's head raises in alarm, eyes wide in shock.

There's a miniscule sliver of light fighting through the overcast haze in your mind. Alarms blare in your mind, screaming for you to wake up—something is horribly, irreversibly wrong. But Seonghwa has always been your safe haven.

He’s shielded you from the cruelties of the world, even brought San into your life. Your Seonghwa would never hurt you. He couldn't.

"I renounce my God for you." An ecstatic giggle bubbles from his throat and San's face contorts into an expression of absolute horror. You weren't in your right mind—the usual brightness of your curious eyes is nowhere to be found and his heart clenches. Seonghwa broke you.

The moon seemed to hide itself from your words, disappearing behind a cover of clouds, and taking away all light from the room in its absence. San holds your face with equal amounts concern and aching desire.

Seonghwa’s gloomy eyes roll over San’s form like a disappointed God—peering through the eerie starlight lacing his gaze.

“Angel, why don’t you make room for our San?” He says suddenly and you pull away from San’s arms before he chided at you

“No darling—here.” Seonghwa practically purred, trailing a hand down to cup your soaked cunt. His head digs into your neck to bite lightly; eyes still trained onto San’s.

San’s pulse throbs erratically, veins strangling against the surface of his neck. Your eyes join Seonghwa’s in staring at him, waiting expectantly.

Slowly, he peels off his slacks, and sighs in relief at finally releasing himself from the uncomfortable constraints.

Seonghwa’s hand pulls at San’s wrist, guiding it to replace his hand, and to his surprise—wraps around the base of his cock.

San flinches at the sensitivity, a small moan of surprise leaving him at having Seonghwa’s soft and cold skin against him. A soft jerk at his shaft causes him to fall against your shoulder and unconsciously fucking his hips into Seonghwa’s hand.

Seonghwa uses the other to cup your jaw to crane towards him, licking into your mouth and parting it to spit directly into your tongue. “Go and accommodate our guest. Show me what you’ve learned while I was away, my love.” There’s a playful glint to his voice, now in a much better mood after hearing you renouncing your father for him.

You crawl over to San slowly and whine at the sudden emptiness as Seonghwa slides out of you. San gazes up at you with reverence when you seat your self onto his lap, spreading your cunt and taking him entirely. His head snaps back, jaw slack, choking a groan at the sudden grip.

Seonghwa still peers at San with dark eyes and reaches forward to brush a strand of hair matted with sweat from his temple.

His fingers pull at San’s jaw towards his lips and kisses him like he was trying to take something back.

In all of San’s years, he’s never imagined kissing Seonghwa. They grew up together and it was his job to take care of Hwa’s messes— every day was spent next to one another as childhood friends, deceivingly as equals even if that weren’t the truth.

He’s never denied being Seonghwa’s dog and despite never thinking of Seonghwa in a sexual or intimate way—kissing him felt like an act of loyalty. It touched at a sensitive part of San’s boyhood like an apology, squeezing his tongue into Hwa’s mouth as if to say

‘I didn’t mean to like her, but I couldn’t help it. I’m sorry.’

San mewled into Seonghwa’s mouth and opened his eyes slightly to take a look at you—almost choking on a laugh but swallowing it down. Your mouth is slack, wide eyed and curious at the interaction— never having witnessed two boys kissing but found yourself admiring their conjoined beauty. San was a night sky laid beneath Seonghwa’s moonlit form.

His hands find their way back on your hips and lays back down, rocking you against him slowly. Seonghwa follows him shortly, peppering kisses onto your shoulder blade before thrusting back into you.

Your mind goes blank at being stuffed to the brim and Seonghwa only adds to it when he shoves his fingers down your throat—laughing when you cry out and gag in surprise. Drool dribbles out of your mouth as they both fuck into you, and San quickly loses all reservations, jackhammering into you whenever Seonghwa would pull out.

“She looks stupid, doesn’t she?” Seonghwa chuckles dryly, face contorted into a horrendously disturbed—almost murderous expression as he nails into you.

San, body trembling with exertion, begins to move in sync with Seonghwa, their cocks moving in and out of you in a brutal, relentless rhythm. You're sandwiched between them, their bodies pressing against yours, their cocks filling you completely. For a moment, Seonghwa feels a sense of satisfaction at San's fucked out expression—grabbing at his face with a rough hand. "—and look at this stupid fucking dog. You've kept it in your pants for years and I come home to your cum inside of her?" Seonghwa taps at San's cheeks before sliding two fingers into his mouth, immediately hitting the back of his throat and forcing him to take it. "Since you're all grown now and clearly your balls have dropped—you can take this much, can't you?" He's still pile driving into you, and you were residue of the person you were an hour ago.

"Pretty angel—" He hits your ass, the surface flushing red and clammy with sweat. "Cum for me so I can show our dearest San how pretty you look when I do it." Your trained body immediately adheres to his words, digesting his voice the way a computer is coded.

San stills, spit trailing onto your neck before he forcibly pulls his throat away from Seonghwa's hand—crying out at your cunts vice grip before cumming an unholy amount inside of you. Hwa's face is cold when he drills into you before pulling out—ejaculating on both your and San's bodies.

Seonghwa's skin is drenched in sweat as he tilts his head up to gaze through the broken skylight—heart thrumming, chest heaving—too cherubic for his own good, despite the brutality of his possessive nature.

You were his. That was final.

And San—San was his too. Always had been.

Maybe he didn’t crave San the same way he craved you—didn’t ache for him in that raw, possessive way—but Seonghwa didn’t let go of what was his. Not ever.

He tossed his suit jacket over your tangled bodies and turned without a word, vanishing into the dark recesses of his room. He needed space. Time to think. To breathe.

San stayed on the floor beside you, too drained to move. The weight of what had happened pressed down like a storm.

Something had shifted. And none of you could take it back.

You wake up groggy, peeling your eyes open against the onslaught of sunlight. Flinching at the soft breath on your neck, you peer down in surprise at San’s figure—completely nude and barely covered by the corner of Seonghwa’s suit jacket.

Where was he?

Anxiety churns in your stomach. You attempt to rise, but your knees give out—waking San in the process. He squeezes one eye to shut out the brightness before wrapping a toned, tanned arm around your waist to steady you.

“You doin’ alright there, Angel?”

He groans as he feels a crusted substance on his cheek, quickly realizing it’s Seonghwa’s cum. What the fuck’s wrong with that guy?

San knows he went along with it in the desperate heat of the moment, but his brow creases at the strangeness of it all as he recalls the feeling of Seonghwa’s fingers in his throat—silken tongue in his mouth.

You open your mouth to speak, but an overwhelming dryness hits your throat quickly followed by a foreign clenching in your stomach. San stills at the clear rumble, eyes widening in apprehension: you were hungry.

Mumbling a quick “wait here,” San stumbles into Seonghwa’s room—ignoring his groggy protests to shut the door because he’s letting in too much light. In his desperation, San doesn’t even register the cold air clinging to his naked body before jumping onto Seonghwa’s bed and tugging at a white tuft of hair.

“Hwa, it’s bad—I think she’s hungry.”

Seonghwa lies quietly for a single beat, still trying to ignore San in extreme annoyance—until his eyes shoot open, finally registering the words.

He falls out of bed, bolts upright, and rushes into the open space with a wide, maniacal smile. San picks up the blanket Seonghwa had flung away, wrapping it around his waist before hobbling after him.

Seonghwa kneels in front of you, softly grabbing your shoulder and San couldn't quite hear his mummering—but takes note of the dangerous spark in Hwa's eyes, a soft simmering settling in his stomach.

San plops down next to you, leaning his head on your shoulder as you both watch Seonghwa flutter to and from the kitchen. The distant cacophony of pots and pans clanging finally seize before the man returns with a glass of water and half-burnt pancakes. At least the effort was there. San grimaces.

You raise your brows in surprise when he hands the plate to you, shaking your head sweetly.

"Hwa—thank you for making...that for me, but I don't need it." You didn't know what pancakes were, but San commended your instinct for knowing that whatever it was—wasn't supposed to look like that. Giggling lightly at your recoiling before clearing his throat and manually stiffening his expression.

"Sweet girl, yes you do—now you do. Just try it, yeah?" Seonghwa hums sweetly before slicing into the pancake, prodding your lips with the fork. Maple syrup and honey butter coat your lips before you hesitantly part them, stilling at the foreign feeling.

"Chew slowly, taste, and then swallow." He holds your chin with two fingers, guiding your jaw gently. "There you are—is it good?"

You think it is—but can't know for sure, you've never tasted anything bad before either; not really comprehending the concept yet.

Body stilling, a small voice in your brain prods at you—why are you eating? Your eyes go white before the horror falls on your body like a bucket of water, legs pushing themselves with a tremor. Please God—no. Anything but this.

Chest heaving, you swallow hard before hesitantly poking a leg out of the sigil and bracing yourself for a sharp, painful sting—but are greeted by nothing. Seonghwa only places the fork down onto the plate before watching you with his dark eyes, holding his chin up with the palm of his hand. San feared this would happen—your inevitable fall from grace. Seonghwa got exactly what he wanted—your mortality.

and now, there was nowhere else for you to return to.

With watery eyes, you jump onto Seonghwa—crying into his arms, and he smiles maternally, adjusting to cradle you to his chest.

"Now—what's the matter, my love?" He hushes you, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, and wiping your nose lovingly. "Are you not happy?"

San watches you both, stomach churning. "I suppose now that you're back, I should return to headquarters." His eyes avoid you both, rubbing the back of his neck, heart aching when your arms reach out towards him.

"Please don't leave." He pauses, finally shifting his gaze back to you. There was something in your voice—something familiar, even if you weren't aware of it. Having watched you day and night, San recognized it as easily as he recognized every pattern that adorned your skin.

It was fear. Fear you weren't present enough to understand.

That same uncomfortable squeeze makes him unconsciously reach up to grab the skin above his chest absentmindedly, as if it'd soothe the unerasable ache.

A part of you had to still be there and San racked his head to find a way to return to you. Seonghwa observes, smiling lightly—fully aware of what was transpiring before him. "There's no need."

San turns his head, looking at Seonghwa questioningly. "No work to do or somethin'?"

"Your work is here. I told your family you'll be gone for a long while." Seonghwa's tone is airy and melodic—sweet, soft spoken, and angelic.

San's eyebrows furrow "What are you talking about?"

Seonghwa merely scooches you off his lap, dusting his knees once he stands before striding into his room—returning with an item San couldn't quite see yet, but hears a faint chime emit from it.

The calm in Seonghwa's eyes break for a singular moment—stormy, brooding, resentful—betrayed. He wraps his arms slowly, seductively around San's neck as he clamps a collar around his throat. Seonghwa's lips graze San's ear, whispering low.

"Since you wanted to act like a dog, you get to live like one now. You know better than to disobey—right, San?"

San isn't surprised. He knew Seonghwa like the back of his hand—He pinches his nose bridge, shrugging him off with a sigh. "Are you gonna give me a shirt at least?"

Seonghwa walks back to you, throwing back a laugh.

"Nope."

After that, Seonghwa had you and San start sleeping in his room, ordering a bigger bed. He was restless after the incident—San could tell. And now, he finally understood: Seonghwa didn’t just own you. He owned him, too.

The dynamic was strange, to say the least. When Seonghwa was away at work, he left San to look after you—calling him a good dog, telling him to indulge your every whim. Over time, intimacy between the three of you became routine and almost mundane. San didn’t even flinch anymore when Seonghwa kissed him. A part of him had learned to enjoy it, though he couldn’t quite explain how he’d grown so numb to it all. Exhausted? Absolutely. Disturbed? Not really.

Seonghwa breezes into the room, unintentionally elegant and languid in his barely dressed form, silk robe untying and sliding down to expose his pelvic bone, and landing just above the well-maintained patch of hair saddling his soft phallus. A pitcher sloshes around in his hand, as he rests it on the nightstand. He found joy in feeding and reminding you to drink water— a consistent reminder of your mortality and how your body functions the way his does.

Bed creaking, he slinks towards your exhausted form—the night before left you spent. Being human meant you were easily exhausted now, energy needing to be replenished by consumption. The memory was a haze, doused by the wetness between your thighs when he and San made you squirt for the very first time. Safe to say, Seonghwa was ecstatic you drank water now for this very reason, and committed himself to the task of draining you of every fluid that your body could produce at moments notice. The dynamic worked well—Seonghwa delved into your body until you cried at the overwhelming sensations consuming it, and San would wipe them away diligently.

San slept to the very far right, arms still reaching for you in his sleep to try and drag you closer with the tips of his fingers. His obsidian, cropped hair was slightly damp from overheating under Seonghwa’s thick sheets.

Dark eyes land on him, observing, calculating. Seonghwa didn’t necessarily…desire San in a carnal way. Not to say that he didn't enjoy some of the convenience involved in the change of events. It was the one concrete way to keep the two you tucked in tight by his side—he didn’t like sharing but if he had to share with anyone, it’d be San. Intimacy between them two was more of a means of tactic—of softening you.

San was his since birth. His previously faultless champion.

However, not long after his return, Seonghwa caught onto your strange attachment to his guard dog and despite his qualms, found it hard to say no to you in the ways he had available to spoil you.

San's departure would only push back the progress he's made.

Thus. he integrated the boy in—sharing his other possessions with you because that acted as a relic of Seonghwa’s love for you.

Seonghwa slips off the last of his hanging silken and lavender colored robe, laying on his side to trace a finger down your nose bridge.

"My angel, wake up." Your doll-like lashes flutter at the groggy opening of your eyes, stifling a yawn and you scoot closer to curl into his arms. You weren't coherent enough to pull away.

“—Come take a bath with me.” Seonghwa’s hand cusps your cheek, thumbing at the skin tenderly before he scoops you into his arms. He smiles down at your limp form, digesting your languid body with quiet adoration.

Steam rose from the hot water, as Seonghwa lathered a fragrant concoction onto your hair. The Edison lightbulb flickered in asynchronous flutters and only the sounds of Seonghwa’s soft breathing, sloshing bath water, and the hypnotic electric buzzing filled the room.

“Hwa?” You question lightly and receive a small, absentminded hum in reply. Seonghwa’s laser focus on the task at hand hadn’t broken.

“Sometimes you scare me.” He stills, palm freezing halfway down a strand of your hair.

“…and why is that?” His soft voice flutters into the air, strangely uncomfortable as he shifted—going back to fidget with your hair.

"I don’t really know how to explain it. The only fear I’d ever known was the fear of God. But then I met you. It wasn’t always like this—don’t you remember?" you say softly, your voice gentle, almost forgiving, free of judgment. Even though you were no longer an Angel, there were still moments when your tone carried that same layered, otherworldly resonance.

Ah, You were awake.

Seonghwa noted, continuing on with his task but his face goes slack from the original gentleness he displayed—the one he often plastered to try and keep soft with you. However, only another masks takes its place: feigned indifference

“Remember which part?” He doesn’t blink, trying his best to busy himself as an act of burying the uncomfortable experience of feeling the queasiness churning in his stomach. Of course he remembered. If he could forget, you wouldn’t be here—in his ancestors remote Mausoleum no one bothered to visit.

The dead remained dead, unsurprisingly. It seemed that in death, after a lifetime of being worshipped by Hunters— they were left on their own with dusty stone and marbled coffins, only the overgrowth providing cold and obligatory company, as nature often does. All of that infamy, the shallowness of his position, it all bored Seonghwa.

“The beginning, Seonghwa. The very beginning.” That tone again. Ringing through sound waves, unnerving; unsettling. No personal feeling detectable, only something alike to the deifying of words. He imagined that the oracle of Delphi may have sounded something like this.

Your words were seemingly omnipresent—prophetic.

“—why did you keep me here?” You continued

“I had no other motive than my love for you.” He utters softly, pausing the business of his hands to stare at your spine. The water sloshes as he leans forward to wrap his arms around you, pulling you closer and leaning a cheek onto your shoulder.

“You know that’s not what I’m asking Hwa.” You turn slightly, facing him as best as you could but Seonghwa holds you still. He doesn’t want you to look at him. Not right now.

He swallows hard, Adam’s apple bobbing. The thick silence choked the two of you—full of ugly and profound emotions you both were scared to face.

“…I remember how it felt when I first saw you.” He starts, voice husky and filled with an emotion you didn’t know how to name yet.

“—my first instinct was to kill you. You didn’t need the wings on your back to tell me what you were—I just knew. You were so palpably innocent. Didn’t even realize the barrel of a gun had been pointed at your head only a couple of feet away for a long while.” Seonghwa’s gaze melts into the bath water, watching your expression from its reflection, eyes still needing—yearning to be on you. He chuckles, aghast at the recollection.

You sit for a couple of beats in silence. The confession, on its own, didn’t scare you.

“But then, you spoke. A small word—insignificant, really, in retrospect. You said hello and I froze for the first time in my life. My instincts—even the most primal of them told me that it was fate. It had to be. I don’t know what it was that made you different; that allowed you to live until now unlike the other Angels that had the unlucky experience of crossing my path. And so I sat next to you on that old stump and asked for your name. For the very first time in my life, someone had regarded me with fascination and not for my position of power. I dare say you were my very first friend. Not even San filled that empty space within me. Y/N, I never had a moment to myself, but I’ve always been lonely.”

Seonghwa strokes your arm, cupping the water in his hands to warm the now cooling skin. Your heart clenched at the sound of his voice, finally uttering your true name after so long, and were immediately thrown back into a time when you’d felt safe with Seonghwa.

Seonghwa, the kind human that made you question the teachings of Eden.

Seonghwa, who was initially proof that humans were good, kind, and capable of emotions and complexities Angels weren’t taught to have.

Seonghwa, who would sit next to you—teaching you the names and descriptions of emotions you’d never felt. The man who would read you books and wrapped your wounds.

Your first and only friend on Earth.

“Why did it all have to change?” You grieved your old friend, not believing that the lot of it was entirely a lie. It was easy to forget in more ways than one: during episodes when you lost yourself entirely or at the wake of your resentments.

“You would’ve left. For good. I couldn’t stomach that.” And for the first time Seonghwa’s voice broke. You couldn’t help the pity dousing your stomach like kerosene, waiting for the fire to start again. Before all of this, you were an angel after all. Maybe that’s why you still had the maddening struggle of wanting to forgive Seonghwa despite his captivity.

“I would’ve came back to visit you—“ you start, but he only clutches you closer, eyes wide and afraid, like a small child for a fracture of a moment.

“I had no way of knowing that. My people are sharp—they would’ve found you if I didn’t hide you myself. And your God? He wouldn’t have let you leave a second time.” Seonghwa’s typically soft, overcast voice squeezed out from his throat—desperation coating its edges.

“Please. Just…please don’t truly hate me. Not you. Anyone else but. Not. You.” He slowly lowers his temple onto your shoulder, breathing out shakily.

And then muscle memory kicks in. You couldn’t help the softness this particular version of Seonghwa summoned from you.

Your arm delicately reached behind you to cradle him closer to your neck. In the thick of his emotions, Seonghwa snaps open—gutted at the wake of what he knows is an irrational amount of love for you. Digging his face into your neck to press deep, desperate, and reverent kisses down its slope before dragging a wet hand from the water to cup your right breast into his large hand.

Your body shakes, neither out of fear or desire—but a strange third option you didn’t know by name. And that? That was the scary thing.

It was frigid, undeniable; all gunmetal stuffing itself into your mouth and you knew you’d accept the blow if it’d come. You feared the fact that it was entirely possible that you truly desired Seonghwa, with and without the delirium of captivity clouding your senses. His fingers break your reverie, as they curled around your jaw to greet you with a kiss. Bath water spills off the sides of the claw foot tub when Seonghwa turns you and pulls you into his arms to sandwich your breasts against his chest. He groans at the feeling of your cold skin, trailing his hands to feel the litter of goosebumps decorating its expanse.

His own muscle memory kicks in, reaching down to curl his fingers into you. You yelp at the intrusion of his thin, soft fingers—clenching your cunt automatically and panting against his open mouth. A pink tongue gives a kittenish lick to the corner of your lip, chuckling softly.

“You’re being so well behaved today.” He notes curiously, driving his fingers deeper and not minding the loud pounding of water. Your hands shoot up to clutch at his shoulders, hiding and crying sweetly into his neck. His other arm curls around you, trying to soothe you with soft hushes.

Seonghwa stops to peer at you meaningfully before reaching into the nearby by bath tray, and leaning back into the water.

He hands you a facial razor— heavy with antiquity, and its iron handle curved slightly. Its blade had to be unsheathed and pulled directly up to station itself upright with a small click. He guides both your hand and the blade so that it hovers a hair above his jugular.

“You can do anything to me. Understand that no one else can do this, my love. And if you want me dead, then so be it.” His unwavering gaze meets your unreadable one, noting the tremble in your hand. The air stills, electric buzzing droning out into a mere hum in the background.

You contemplate it. You truly did. Tried to. But imagining a cold, dead Seonghwa beneath you brought you no peace. The ominous part of it all is that if Seonghwa died, a part of you would want to follow him.

And he knew this. You knew he did: the ever-so cunning Seonghwa, brilliant and primal—elegantly perching against the morose shadows his light casted. He doesn’t blink when you fling the razor behind him, white strands of hair lightly caught in the crossfire fall and stick onto his wet collarbone.

But then you kiss him with the closest thing to emotion he’s ever felt from you and he crumbles under the weight of his desperation to be loved by you; to mean something. A part of him abhorred San for being able to do that so effortlessly. He almost laughs—if San knew that he was jealous of his qualities, he wouldn’t be able to process the fact that someone like Seonghwa felt frighteningly small and inferior to him.

He felt it in your hands, in your tears that fell into his mouth as you kissed him. Seonghwa knew there was no turning back from this, from his crimes: every beautiful and organic emotion you may have felt at one point in time was marred by rage and betrayal. Something like love: simple, grandiose, and seemingly pure couldn’t define your sick entanglement. It didn’t surprise him when you denied him so fervently.

Love was powerful and entirely capable of being hideous—but not like this. Which is exactly why he never taught you the word nor its definition, too distorted and dark in his natural form of pursuit to have any right to speak it out into the air.

But he taught you desire and the ugliness of hanging from the edges of sharp teeth. He kissed you like he was begging you to stay—to stay even if he shackled you right there to him. To want to stay even without his restraints.

You didn’t mind the clumsiness of this Seonghwa—a far visage from the commonly elegant, skillful and unflinching hands he carried. When you rise from the water, he gazes up at you with helpless, reverent eyes: palms squeezing at your hips in case you tried to leave him. There was a boyish quality to him, eyes wide with a palpably emotional gleam.

You only cradle him to your chest, soothing him for a moment with the sound of your heartbeat. He digs his face into your breasts, inhaling deeply before pulling your hips down to hover above his cock, sliding you down and moaning at the feeling of you stretching to accommodate him.

“Please. Do whatever you want to me—just don’t leave.” He begs, head thrown back as you slowly pushed him deeper into the water, rocking your hips as he tore you open.

Your hand mimics the common ministrations of his own, and he gasps when you clutch softly at his throat, leaning down to bite hard on his jugular. There’s a word for the feeling pounding in your chest, throbbing like life in your stomach.

“What word would describe what you’re allowing me to do to you?” You pant out, arching into his hand the petted your breasts lightly with adoration.

“Power. The word is power, my love” and he smiles from his heart for the first time in a long while in reverent defeat, having not been able to since he’d taken you for his own.

When he finishes inside you, Seonghwa doesn’t let you go for several hours, even when the water ran cold. For a moment you thought he cried but he didn’t answer when you asked and only dug his hands tighter into your skin in response.

“Up you go,” San murmurs, lifting you with practiced ease to grab the box of linguini from the top shelf. He lets out a playful groan, more for show than effort. The small bell on his choker swings as he moves, a delicate sound that barely registers over the quiet thrum in your chest.

You laugh—without meaning to, without knowing why. It’s light, fleeting, the kind of laugh that almost aches on its way out. Maybe it’s not the moment itself, but the way it clings to something that already feels like a memory.

San laughs too, louder than you, and for a second, it almost feels real. But as he sets you down, your smile falters at the edges. The warmth between you is still there—but so is the knowing. The awareness that this softness can’t last. That you're stealing moments from something inevitable.

Still, your laughter lingers, echoing in a space that already feels too quiet.

San's been teaching you how to cook, should the day come when you’d have to do it on your own. Out of the three of you, he seemed to be the only one gifted at making a fully digestible meal. Hwa tried his best to impress you, or better yet, get back into your good graces. However, each attempt seemed to end in worse form than the last.

With Hwa's busy schedule, the two of you were often left to your own devices. Boredom consumed the days you were only permitted to stay inside of the mausoleum. San—who was instructed to stay by your side at all times because the sigil no longer had the power to keep you stationary—was sentenced to another form of imprisonment. He never complained about the duties Hwa left him, especially those involving you.

The only time he could afford to truly thaw was when Hwa was summoned away to play the part of the dutiful eldest son. In those borrowed hours, he’d sink into the warmth of your body, unguarded, or eat your imperfect meals—meals that somehow became his favorite flavor despite its obvious flaws, second only to the taste of you. It felt different when San touched you: it was easier to relax—the equivalent of breathing, a sacred sinking into his flesh. You didn't experience this sort of reverence for someone—even for your father, who is a true god.

You found the words to describe what you felt for San one evening, after panting out a confession without your knowing. His skin clung to yours, pulling away and sticking back with each movement, but he froze after hearing the words that fell out of your mouth.

“San, I feel... warm when I’m with you. What does that mean?”

His breath stills. Your head rests quietly on his bicep as silence settles between you. Then, with a slow shift, San turns and draws you into his chest. A few quiet heartbeats pass before he finally speaks—each word chosen with careful deliberation.

"Well—it could mean lots of things" He starts with, a whisper traversing the air, afraid he'd somehow disturb the fragility of this moment if he spoke even a decibel higher.

You tilt your head to gaze up at him with clear, curious eyes.

"Like what?"

"Maybe I'm familiar. Or my skin warms you because you get cold easily." San hesitates, dancing around the final consideration.

"That's true." You hum lightly, instinct telling you that something about those options isn't quite as right—but you can't expect San to know everything.

In a moment of bravery, San pushes passed his fear, stuttering and gazing at the doorway of the bedroom—afraid that Seonghwa would suddenly appear without warning.

"Or something like love."

San has seen many horrors throughout his life: massacres, seemingly bottomless gore, unsightly creatures that run on the sheer instinct to kill—but he's never known this sort of fear before. Something in his chest feels torn open, and like the words falling from his mouth were a plea for you to check inside the purposeful wound.

"Love?" You pause. The word's familiar; love thy neighbor— love as written in the scriptures of your kind. It feels correct on your tongue, even if it took on a different meaning with San.

You've come to find that days with San didn't feel like captivity or isolation: they felt like dancing into the arms of another world.

There was another word, one that Seonghwa taught you many moons before—desire. It was undeniable, all consuming—jagged teeth pointing towards skin as the body trembled in anticipation. You couldn’t help its existence inside of you.

A small recollection pushes to the forefront of your mind of Seonghwa sitting on that familiar old stump, legs spread as he gazed outward into the decay of the autumn forest, the morning fog marred and thickened the cold air around you to describe the word desire with a cold, casual objectivity.

“It’s a primal instinct. Ugly, running on old fuel that seems to keep burning through despite it hitting points of exhaustion. Its consumption, Y/N. Desire is for beasts. And men are the true beasts of this world.”

You didn’t understand it then, the obsessive struggle he may have been dealing with already without your knowing.

But love?

Was the only difference that it was almost unconditional? That it fell into you without much fight?

You didn’t want to fight it. Not San. And so you say it, breathing to life words you’d only just begun understanding.

“— it seems that I love you, San.” You peer up at him smiling peacefully, accepting the kind churning and warmth in your stomach as you gaze at his features you committed to memory: the sharpness of his jaw, the razor edges of the upturn of his eyes—his dark hair.

He pauses, heart throbbing—yearning for the bravery to fall into it. He squeezes his eyes in defeat, knowing it was too late. He already did.

“As do I, my lady.”

Seonghwa’s dark silhouette perched silently against a nearby wall, torches yet to be lit as he slinks from the shadow he rested in.

He won’t lose you both.

He’ll make sure of it.

When Seonghwa returned one night, something was terribly amiss. Unsettling, on the brink of breaking and sharpening into something with the intention to tear open—to cut; to make you bleed.

The only light came from the broken skylight, the half-moon doing its best to illuminate the room but casting more shadows than clarity over Seonghwa’s features. None of the torches were lit, and you stepped forward slowly, instinctively hesitant in the face of the ominous energy radiating from him.

As you approach, you catch sight of Seonghwa's porcelain face—forebodingly still and unreadable as you register the blood painting its pale surface. Pausing mid-step—your heart thrums and rises to your throat, body pushing passed the fear to move forward. Was he bleeding?

Seonghwa melted into the shadows, the sharp edge of the hunt still clinging to him as he eased back into the illusion of normalcy. The high was fading, but not gone—belligerent on an unnamed violence from earlier on in the night. Dressed in black from throat to heel, he wore a heavy leather trench coat, its high collar snapped shut over a sleek turtleneck. No skin showed—his hands gloved, his silhouette precise.

The light illuminated his hair like a halo when his voice fell like an empty husk in the cold and damp air. He waits a couple of ominous beats before speaking.

“My love, what do you say about playing a game with me?” His eyes were still unreadable, glimmering like the tip of a steel blade.

You tilt your head, confused.

“A game?” Melodic, sweet, inquiring.

Seonghwa hums, still not blinking but the corner of his lip quirks up.

“Mhm, a game.” Sweet, convincing—falling from his blood red mouth like a simple suggestion.

You shuffle a bit, rubbing a hand over your other wrist, and only nod slowly in reply. He tilts his head, you weren’t awake. Not yet—your true self resting beneath the layers of delusion.

The click of Seonghwa’s slow approach lifts your head before his hand cradles your chin, as he leans down to brush his lips against yours—delicately licking at the familiarly soft skin.

“I had an interesting thought” he starts with, rubbing his nose against you, whispering softly before continuing. Your stomach churns instinctively.

“—I thought that if my Angel were to stay, I’d want her to choose to stay. Did I ever tell you the coming of age custom of my people?” His finger on your chin tightens, lips ghosting over your pulse and momentarily pressing at skin when you shake your head innocently in silent reply. He skulks around you, walking a circle around your form; suddenly a predator eying his prey.

Another soft hum—an intimate voice that refuses to raise and disturb the air and foreboding of the moment

“In order for a hunter to even embark on his very first mission, he first has to be able to hold his own and escape our land. Several proctors will follow him on his way out and if he can’t fight them off—he’s unable to complete his rite of passage. So, I wanted to offer you an option of freedom.” He starts with, trailing a hand down his torso to slowly grasp at the cold gunmetal hidden in a holster beneath the thick leather of his coat.

“—thus, my sweet, sweet girl— I’m offering you a chance to run as fast as you can. If you escape, your life is your own. But if I catch you? Your life is in my hands to do whatever I want with it.

What do you say?” His tone is a light whisper, dancing around with the initial simplicity coating his original thought.

He turns to look behind him and towards the shadows with dark eyes “And you. Don’t intervene—you know the customs.” San steps out, jaw clenching.

“You know she’s not one of us. Don’t subject her to this.” His tone is firm, a thinly veiled plead, already knowing Seonghwa wouldn’t relent.

“Aha! That’s exactly what I thought. Because of that—isn’t that all the more reason to initiate her?” He brightens slightly, voice rising in mock excitement.

“She’s no Hunter, Hwa. She’s a fucking captive.” San seethes, nails digging into the bed of his palms.

Seonghwa scoffs, a saccharine smile decorating his features.

“Do you think you’re any better?” He walks towards San, dragging a finger down his throat and chest before rubbing imaginary dust from its surface. “What right do you have? Night and day you indulge in my angel with the dishonest excuse that you’re doing it for her. You’re just as guilty of the crime. Not once have you thought about helping her escape. Of all my men, San—you are the only one who’d have the chance to actually succeed. You were trained alongside me—to protect me in the case that I wouldn’t be able to do so myself, after all?”

San stills, squeezing his eyes shut at the uncomfortable reminder of his cowardice. In many ways—he too was Seonghwa’s captive but the mentioned man would never change his approaches to adoration. He steps back with a prayer and tries to will himself to not vomit. Hwa wouldn’t kill you.

He couldn’t, right?

Your eyes danced between the two, confused.

“Hwa— I don’t want to leave you. I don’t think I want to play the game.” Your voice rises, apprehensive at his ploy. Did he grow tired of you? Did he not want you anymore?

He sees your face fall in distress, noting your quivering lip with a clenched heart.

This is the final stretch.

Seonghwa will have you, one way or another.

“If you don’t want to, why are you already stepping away?” Again, his casual tone unnerves you—too much perceived sweetness clouding your frazzled mind before his expression distorts back into a sobering reality.

You flinch, waking up from your long reverie. He wasn’t sweet—Seonghwa’s tone was calculated. His touch wasn’t firm; it’s bruising you.

Your body moved before your mind could agree and process, the voice of your consciousness finally breaking through the fog in your head.

Seonghwa pushes you by the small of your back, nudging you towards the entrance obscured by shadows of the mausoleum far across the area you stood in. “Run little rabbit.” a conflicted whisper tumbles

and your legs move. Slowly; unsure.

But there’s a throbbing in your heart as Seonghwa’s words echo through your body

If I catch you, your life is in my hands to do whatever I want with it.

And the sudden adrenaline shakes you—the gateway seemingly only grows further as you push your way towards it.

Please.

“Please God. This is my last shot”

Seonghwa’s slow steps are lax; calculated. A finger rests near the trigger, two hands hold the gun down as he slinks towards you.

He raises the gun—bang. The shot tears through the air. You don’t know what it hits, only that it’s too close. It’s still sharp and beautiful, like Seonghwa under the moonlight—a thinly veiled prowess of a hunter disguising himself as your benevolent savior.

His eyes—all gunmetal and bronzed blood fixate on your form, spotting and following you easily in the dark of the room.

He slowly counts, knowing from the start you wouldn’t make it out.

One.

Another bang. Does it hit something else?

Two,

“Can you run faster darling?” He released a small chide, almost hopeful and genuine in its inquiry. It’s quickly followed by a spark, another sonic ricochet of an unseen bullet.

Three.

Your ears ring—tears fill your eyes. The more the fear settles, the sicker you feel.

You miss him as the distance grows, even as something inside you begins to splinter—slow, tragic, and wrong.

You want to go back.

You want to turn around.

You want him to hold you and not point the gun at your head—you want Seonghwa to love you better, but he will never know how to love you kindly.

Seonghwa was primal—cold-cut precision born of blood and legacy. A creature blessed with the God-given gift of the Hunt.

He could only love you as prey.

Maybe you’d be able to love him without needing to fracture and erase yourself in order to do so.

Where’s San?

Your heart throbs and you close your eyes—remembering for a final moment the glow of his tanned skin under sunlight, kissing him between the empty spaces of uncharted time and illuminated dust particles. San was warm.

You remember love—distant, fading like a dream at dawn. His face, his warmth, almost gone. Now there’s only this: another man’s arms around you, steady, unyielding. His eyes find yours, and you let go.

Your last cohesive thought was of the sensory memory of his arms wrapped around your form, squeezing you tightly but his eyes—

Oh, his eyes

The held you with a soft hand.

When Seonghwa’s gloved hand squeaks like the hinges of a coffins door once they catch onto your wrist

You fall into it—into him, completely. For good into the belly of his sharp mouth—never to remember the truth of your captivity under the wake of your desperation to survive all of this somehow—to outlive the sick reminder of your desire and captivity. You've always been afraid of loving Seonghwa, but you never had a choice in the matter. You're right back at entry point one.

This is how you’ll survive.

The chamber is dim, the air heavy with fear and something darker. You're forced down—arm wrenched behind you, cheek crushed against the filthy floor. Seonghwa rises and presses the cold metal tip of his steel toed boot down onto your face lightly.

“Got’ya.” His voice is mellow; soft, tired. Mud from his shoe collects on your cheeks.

“—You know what this means now, don’t you?” He releases the pressure on your face before tugging you up to kneel.

Seonghwa stands before you, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous intensity. You kneel on the cold stone floor, a shiver running down your spine as you gaze up at him with a mix of terror and devotion. Your mind is a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, but one thing remains clear: your fate is sealed in his hands, and you have come to accept it—alas embracing your inner conflict in full.

Devotion scores your body, tallying the days you were able to withstand him before the inevitable fall.

Seonghwa's hand rests on the gun now tucked into his waistband, his fingers drumming a slow, ominous rhythm against the cool metal. He leans down, his breath hot on your ear as he whispers, "I want to see how much you trust me, my angel. I want to know if you're truly mine."

You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest like a trapped bird. You know what he asks of you, and you're willing to give it, to prove your devotion. You nod slowly, your eyes never leaving his, a silent promise passing between you. An exchange.

He steps back, his hand wrapping around the gun as he pulls it free from his waistband. The click of the safety being disengaged echoes through the chamber, a chilling symphony that sends a shiver down your spine. He presses the barrel against your forehead, his eyes searching yours for any sign of fear or hesitation. You find none, only a deep, abiding trust, a disorienting submission that has taken root in your soul.

"Good girl," he murmurs, a calculated and searching smile playing on his lips as he trails the gun down your body, pressing it against your chest, stomach, and thigh, before finally resting it between your legs. You shudder, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as you feel the cold metal against your cunt

"Seonghwa," you whisper, your voice barely audible—surrendering and praying for his touch. You spread your legs wider, inviting him in, offering yourself to him without reserve.

His eyes are dark as he holsters the gun and begins to undress, his movements slow and deliberate, a teasing striptease designed to torment and arouse. You watch him with anticipation, body aching with need.

Pink velvet, intimidatingly vulgar in its engorged appearance—a testament to his arousal during the hunt. He takes your hand, placing it on his length, as a silent command. You wrap your fingers around him, touch tentative at first, then more confident as you stroke him, your eyes locked on his, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

Seonghwa groans, his head falling back— eyes clenching shut as he savors the sensation of your soft palms. But he wants more. He wants your softness that he, himself, could never have nor embody. He’s always wanted more. More of you—more of something to fill the gap where he knows humanity should’ve been within him. He pulls you to your feet, hands gripping your hips as he turns you around, pressing your back against his chest. The gun’s still tucked into his waistband, ominous and patient.

"You trust me, don't you, my angel?" he murmurs, his lips against your ear, his voice a low, dangerous growl. "You know I would never hurt you, not truly. You're mine, and I protect what's mine."

You nod, your body trembling with a mix of fear and arousal as you feel his cock press against your ass, a hard, insistent demand. You reach back, your hand wrapping around his length, guiding him to your entrance, a silent invitation

He enters you slowly, inch by inch, his breath hot on your neck— hands gripping your hips tightly as he fills you completely, utterly, and without reserve. Your jaw goes slack, head falling back against his shoulder, eyes clenching shut as you savor the burning sensation of him stretching you

He begins to move, his hips thrusting against yours, cock sliding in and out of you with a slow, deliberate rhythm. You rise to meet him, spine arched, fingers clutching at his thighs. Breathless and breaking

The gun presses against your stomach. You welcome it, letting the fear simmer into something delectable. you lose yourself in him—relinquishing the last of your faith, existing for the sole purpose of being consumed whole. His breath is on your neck, hands on your hips, and voice in your ear—a love song or a threat. Maybe both. You welcomed it either way. Seonghwa was in every direction: he was inside of you and the cherubic voice echoing from every wall—heralding the arrival of a new world of his very own making.

“Do you still love me, dove?" The cold tip of the gun drags into your hair, against the back of your head before settling there; erotic in the way only Seonghwa was capable of configuring such a disturbing, gut wrenching action—but you feel nothing. You feel whole, unafraid—willing. Pushing your head towards the gun as a reverent "Always" falls from your lips. Seonghwa merely smiles before raising the gun towards the ceiling—his arm pin straight and aiming towards heaven before pulling the trigger three times in a row. You flinch at the loud sound, turning to gaze at him owlishly—cradling your ears in surprise.

He smirks charmingly, muttering "They were blanks." before shrugging and flinging the gun passively to the side.

"You're mine, my angel," he murmurs, his voice a low, dangerous growl. "Mine to protect, mine to cherish, mine to fuck, mine to own. You trust me, don't you? You know I would never let anything happen to you. You're safe with me. You are everything."

You nod, your body trembling with a mix of fear and arousal as you feel your orgasm building, a tidal wave of sensation and emotion, a release, a redemption, a madness. You cry out, your voice a high, keening wail as you come undone, body convulsing. Your mind shatters, fragments flinging to a place out of reach—sanity recoiling to save you from the fear and anguish of your own desires, and in this—you find salvation. Reprieve.

He follows soon after, his cock pulsing inside you, his seed spilling into your womb, a mark of his ownership, his possession, his love. He holds you tightly, his body shaking, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he finds his release, his redemption, his madness.

As the waves of your orgasm subside, you slump against him, your body boneless, your mind a blank slate, your soul at peace. He turns you around, his arms wrapping around you, holding you tightly, his chin resting on the top of your head as he rocks you gently, a lullaby, a promise, a love song. A hand drifts to rub at your womb with curious eyes.

"You did well, my angel," he murmurs, his voice soft, gentle, a stark contrast to the dangerous lover who had just taken you with such genuinely murderous ferocity. "It's you, our little puppy San, and I—nothing else is important. Always remember that my love."

You nod, eyes clenching shut as you savor the sensation of his arms around you. No thought of heaven or hell—only him and San.

San’s name stirs a strange, hollow ache in your chest—a voice whispering not to lose him, not to forget that he’s the one you truly love, despite the darkness of Seonghwa’s pull.

But you don’t hear it. Not anymore.

Not in Seonghwa’s arms. Not with the thrill of his gunmetal aimed at you.

San watches, hiding in the shadow of the hall, as he leans against a stone pillar, solemn eyes fixed ahead. For more reasons than one, he can't leave you both. But most of all—he can't leave you here, even if you forget him. You wouldn't have wanted him to leave you. He tugs at the collar on his neck, uncomfortable at how it strangles against his skin but stops himself from removing it. He's scared that Seonghwa will find a way to make him forget too and so he recounts the memory of the first time he'd made love to you, again and again, just in case Seonghwa takes it away from him someday. He’ll be here. He’ll always be here with you.

As you stand there in Seonghwa’s arms—your body used, your mind quieted, your soul no longer your own—you feel… peace.

You would do it all again. Every touch that tore your mind open until you were a remnant of Heaven and a living gash, personified. Every bullet—Every time he broke you open just to remake you in his image.

Because whatever you were before doesn’t matter now.

You are his.

And he is yours.

Not because you chose it—

But because there is nothing left of you that could refuse.

Forever, you whisper. In this life or whatever comes after. In madness. In silence. In the dark where your name used to be.

You are his.

And the only one left who remembers who you truly were stands silently beside you—bound by the same chains, held in quiet captivity for the rest of his life. Loyal to the end.

And Seonghwa—oh, Seonghwa.

He buys a grave big enough for three.

Author's note: Please don't shoot me *Smiles nervously, dabbing at a bead of sweat*

taglist: @faerouzia @tenxouttanine @tunafishyfishylike @lemon-sage17 @clarizz08 @calilovesdilfs

[airaviity]

Sacred Hell

Pairing: Priest!Hongjoong x Demon!FemReader

Genre: +18, Smut, Dark Romance, Supernatural, Slow Burn, Horror Undertones, Gothic/Religious Aesthetic

wc: 8,5k

Summary: In a quiet church tucked away from the chaos of the world, Father Hongjoong lives a life of peace, purpose, and unwavering faith. But when a strange confession shatters his routine, he finds himself haunted by a voice—one that knows too much, feels too close, and sounds far too human.

Some sins don’t knock on the door. They just enter the sanctuary.

Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content (MDI!!), graphic oral sex, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, marking/bruising, rough intimacy, mild dirty talk, sensual tension and manipulation, Non-consensual metaphysical claim over a soul, religious imagery and theological themes, dark fantasy/demon lore, obsession, paranoia, and identity crisis. Power imbalance. Light body horror (visuals: horns, charms, black eyes) Unreliable perception/reality distortion.

Request: Yes. Thank you for your request, hope you like it 🫶

Masterlist Taglist

The scent of incense hung like a veil over the chapel—sweet cinnamon wrapped in smoke, and something faintly acrid beneath it, like the last breath of a snuffed candle.

The pews sat mostly empty, shadowed and silent, save for a few souls adrift in prayer: an elderly woman whispering decades of sorrow into her clasped hands, a janitor polishing brass with devotion more ritual than routine, and someone crying—quietly—beneath the cold gaze of Jesus Crist.

This was the hour Hongjoong loved most.

The world outside dulled, muffled by thick stone and stained glass. Time stilled. And in that stillness, the church seemed to breathe—as if the divine stirred only when no one else was watching.

He’d loved this place since he was thirteen.

The first time he stepped into a chapel, the hush of it moved something in him. Not fear, not awe—just peace. A peace he chased until it became purpose.

His parents hadn’t argued when he said he wanted to serve. His friends didn’t laugh. Not really. They called it noble. Maybe even brave.

And it was enough.

He liked helping people. Speaking to the grieving. Teaching children how to listen for God's whisper in a noisy world.

His life was quiet, structured, and deeply his. At twenty-six, it still was.

Well. Until recently.

Mingi had always teased him, of course. They still did.

“You’re gonna die a virgin, Joong,” Mingi snorted once over coffee, “And not even a mysterious one.”

He had laughed. He didn’t mind. He wasn’t missing out.

He didn’t crave noise. Or indulgence. Or chaos.

He craved the calm. The certainty. The closeness to something bigger than himself.

But then the confessional door creaked open.

He didn’t look up right away. Instead, he straightened his collar, folded his hands, and spoke in the calm, careful tone he used with everyone.

“Tell me your sins, my dear.”

A breath, long and quiet, answered him. Then a voice.

Soft. Smooth. Curiously calm.

“Father… Why do people think that telling their sins to someone like you will keep them out of Hell?”

The question landed gently. But the tone behind it wasn’t right.

It wasn’t mocking.

It wasn’t pained.

It was… amused.

Unbothered. Too comfortable.

His breath caught, just slightly. He swallowed it in silence.

“May I ask why you think that way?” He replied evenly.

“Because they’ll sin again,” The voice said, slow and sure. “They can’t help it. That’s what they were made to do.”

His fingers tightened around the rosary in his pocket. The beads were warm from use, worn smooth by nights spent praying for others—never for himself.

But tonight…

“Why are you so sure?”

A soft exhale from the other side. Then:

“Because that’s the nature of your kind.”

His chest tightened.

“They were created to sin.”

The booth grew warmer. Or maybe he just imagined it. But the space suddenly felt smaller, like the air had thickened between the panels of carved wood.

He told himself it was just a strange confession. Philosophical. Someone trying to provoke him. That happened sometimes.

But then the silence stretched too long. Uncomfortably long.

And then the voice dropped lower.

“Kim Hongjoong, I’ve been watching you.”

The blood drained from his face.

His skin prickled with cold. The hairs on his arms rose. He turned toward the screen instinctively—but the lattice was too fine to see through.

Only shadow. Still. Watching.

“Who are you?” He demanded, voice thinner than before.

The voice didn’t answer. Not directly.

“Have you ever sinned, Hongjoong?”

The way they said his name—like it was something intimate—made his stomach twist.

Not cruel. Not playful.

Certain.

Like they knew him.

His mouth opened. But nothing came out.

Because deep beneath his calm exterior—under the robes and prayers and purpose—was something he’d long buried.

And it wanted to hear that voice again.

˚₊‧ა ♱ ໒ ‧₊˚

He hadn’t slept much.

Seven nights had passed, but that voice still wrapped around his spine like smoke.

He remembered opening the booth and finding nothing. No shadow. No scent. No footsteps in the chapel. Just stillness—and the suffocating certainty that he hadn’t been speaking to a human soul.

He started locking the doors earlier. Checking the pews. Double- and triple-checking the booths.

And still, he felt eyes on him. In the mirror. On the bus. Walking past shop windows. Especially in the church, where the saints watched him with unblinking stone eyes.

He told Father Jongho.

Jongho had laughed, brushing it off.

“Probably some weird prank. Kid with too much time. You know how they are.”

But Hongjoong didn’t believe that.

Because it didn’t feel like a prank.

It felt like… a promise.

And it was keeping him awake at night.

♱

The seminar was already underway when he arrived. Twenty, maybe thirty young women sat in the front rows, all neatly dressed and attentive.

Jongho was introducing the session on spiritual service and church community roles, but Hongjoong’s attention drifted.

Until you entered.

You were late. Quiet.

And the moment you walked through the chapel doors, the world… shifted.

Nothing about you screamed for attention.

Your outfit was modest—long skirt, buttoned blouse, rosary tucked at your throat. Your hair neat. Your steps soft. And yet his eyes snapped to you like metal to magnet.

He felt something in his chest tighten.

Familiarity. But no memory.

Déjà vu laced with dread.

You walked slowly down the aisle, bowed politely, then sat near the front.

But something clawed at the back of his mind.

He told himself it was nothing. That he was tired. Paranoid.

Still… when your gaze lifted and met his—just for a second—something inside him recoiled.

Or maybe… leaned in.

After the seminar, you approached him.

“Father Hongjoong?” You asked gently.

He turned.

You were closer than he’d realized.

“I was told I’d be assisting you this week,” You said with a warm smile. “I’m here for the convent program. I hope that’s alright.”

He stared for a beat too long.

You smiled again. Pure. Kind.

But your eyes… There was something behind them.

Something veiled.

He couldn’t place it. But he could feel it.

˚₊‧ა ♱ ໒ ‧₊˚

The sweet click of your lip gloss echoed through the room, thick with the scent of sulfur and cherry.

You puckered your lips in the mirror, spreading the soft pink sheen over your mouth with slow, deliberate strokes.

Behind you, Wooyoung’s voice rang out, dripping with mockery.

“So what, now you’re gonna play the innocent good girl?”

You smiled, sly and feline, without turning around “If you want to put it that way,” You said, running your fingers through your hair, tousling it just right, “Yes.”

“Cute little angel on the outside…” You paused, your voice dipping, “…monster underneath.”

He scoffed “Tits and ass out, then.”

You turned and shot him a look “No. Not completely,” You said with a shrug, standing to smooth the skirt over your hips. “I'm just dressing like I always do.”

He gave you a flat look “So, tits and ass out.”

“Wooyoung!” You scolded, launching your comb at his head. He dodged it like a seasoned pro, hands raised.

“Hey! Say no to violence!” He grinned, demonic and smug, pointing to the other side of your room. “Ask Seonghwa. Bet he agrees.”

You turned, and sure enough—Seonghwa was there, leaned against the wall, arms crossed, lips tilted in an amused smile. He looked like temptation dressed in silk and sin.

“Seriously? You agree with this idiot?”

Seonghwa pushed off the wall and strolled toward you, all lazy grace. He reached out and cupped your cheek with one hand, thumb brushing just under your glossed bottom lip.

“Baby,” He said, tone soft as smoke, “Sometimes you do dress like a slut.”

You narrowed your eyes.

“But,” He continued, “You always look beautiful. And we love you just like that.”

You rolled your eyes and slapped his hand away with a grin.

“Asshole.”

“Truth hurts.”

“You’re all so annoying,” You muttered, even as San flopped down beside you with his usual chaos in tow.

“And you’re about to make history, babe.” San grinned, sharp canines gleaming. “You really going through with it?”

You arched a brow “Of course I am. A priest? The holiest of holy boys? What better way to earn another charm?”

You tugged the collar of your blouse down slightly, revealing the edges of your demon mark—the ink over your chest that glowed faintly with power.

Several small charms already adorned it: a dagger, a flame, a bleeding crown.

Each one earned. Each one a symbol of sin committed, souls cracked.

“Hongjoong won’t stand a chance,” You added, dragging your nails lazily down your exposed collarbone.

San leaned in with a grin “Don’t disappoint me now. You lose, I get you. You win, you get another charm.”

“Deal.”

Your lips curled as you faced the mirror once again, voice smooth and seductive.

“Let’s see how long it takes to drag a priest to Hell.”

♱

“Good morning, Father.”

The voice rang out as soon as he stepped into the parish hall. Gentle. Respectful. Polished—like light reflecting off a blade.

Hongjoong hesitated for the briefest second. Barely noticeable. But enough. He turned toward you with a tight smile, shallow and practiced.

“Morning, sister,” He murmured, eyes barely grazing yours before flicking to the floor.

He walked past quickly, almost as if something at his back might burn him. You followed. He could hear your footsteps, light and even.

You didn’t rush to catch up. You didn’t speak. You just… trailed him, like a shadow that smiled.

He hated how aware he was of you. Of your presence. The faint floral scent that shouldn’t have lingered so long. The heat he felt when you stood too close—even when you weren’t close.

His whole body was tense. He kept his gaze forward, feet moving faster than usual, hoping you'd get the message.

You didn’t.

Of course you didn’t.

—

“Father, what would you like me to help you with today?”

Your voice was warm when you asked, sweet enough to pass for kindness, but he swore there was something beneath it.

You both stepped into his office. A small, square room, one that had always been a safe space.

Quiet. Private. Familiar.

But now… Now it felt stifling.

The scent of frankincense and old pages surrounded them—dozens of Bibles stacked on overloaded shelves, framed prints of saints hanging like silent witnesses. Rosaries lined the edge of his desk.

Candles. Scripture. Order.

And then there was you. You paused at the threshold, eyes scanning the room. You looked normal. Curious. Polite. Until you locked eyes with the statue of Jesus in the corner. A simple carving, usually overlooked.

But your gaze lingered, just a second too long. And for a fleeting moment, Hongjoong thought he saw something in your eyes.

Something aware.

Your smile didn’t falter. A shiver crawled under his skin. He turned quickly and busied himself with a stack of papers.

“I need help organizing the lectures for tonight’s mass,” He said, placing the bundle on his desk. “These are the weekly announcements. Just put them in order by date.”

“Of course, Father,” You replied, taking the stack delicately into your hands.

Your fingers brushed his as you did, light as air. He flinched internally. Why did your skin feel like static?

You glanced around for a place to sit, standing still, almost hesitant. He noticed and before he could stop himself, he gestured toward the chair beside his desk.

“You can sit here.”

You gave him a grateful smile. Sweet. Perfect.

You didn’t have to do anything. Didn’t bat your lashes or tilt your voice or pout your lips. And yet—he had offered.

He should’ve told you to sit farther away. Should’ve pointed to the corner chair. Should’ve remembered how unsteady he’d been feeling all week.

But now you were sitting beside him. Close enough to feel your warmth. Close enough to smell that damn perfume again.

You flipped through the papers with practiced ease, crossing one leg over the other.

He turned back to his own work, pretending to read, pretending to focus—while every nerve in his body screamed at him to do the one thing he swore he wouldn’t:

Look at you.

♱

Monday

He tried to pray it away. That heat. That pull. That… wrongness.

But you sat beside him again, close enough to brush shoulders, flipping through liturgical schedules like you belonged here. Like you’d always belonged.

He didn’t look at you. Couldn’t. But the corner of his eye betrayed him.

Your skirt was too short. Not scandalous, but short enough to see the soft curve of your thigh when you crossed your legs.

Your blouse dipped low, hugging your chest like it was stitched just for sin. Your lip gloss shimmered like sugar in candlelight.

And yet—no one noticed.

Father Jongho passed you twice without a blink. Sister Lily complimented your modesty. Even the elderly woman from the parish clutched her rosary and called you “such a lovely girl.”

Was he imagining it?

Was he the problem?

—

Tuesday

The crucifix fell off the wall.

It had been mounted above his door for five years.

Never moved. Never loosened. Never even tilted.

But the moment you entered his office—bright smile, folders tucked against your chest, heels clicking too deliberately—it fell.

Not loud. Just a soft thud as it hit the carpet.

You bent to pick it up before he could move.

“Oops,” You said sweetly. “I didn’t touch it.”

He nodded stiffly and took it from your hands, your fingers grazing his again, and the metal of the crucifix burned cold in his palm.

He didn’t hang it back up.

—

Wednesday

He had a dream. It wasn’t graphic, not exactly. But it was wrong.

He remembered your lips. Soft, shimmering. The feel of fingers brushing over his collar.

The way you knelt before him, not in prayer, but in offering. Your eyes looked up at him, full of something between reverence and ruin.

He woke up gasping.

That morning, you arrived in a slim black skirt, blouse slightly sheer under the light, lips glossed pink and perfect.

Everyone smiled at you. Said you looked radiant.

He bit his tongue so hard it bled.

—

Thursday

You spoke during mass. It was a brief reading, nothing complicated—something Father Jongho asked you to do. But the moment you stepped up to the pulpit, the entire room seemed to… still.

You read slowly, voice soft, every word soaking into the stone like oil on silk.

And for the first time since he’d become a priest, Hongjoong couldn’t hear the words of Scripture.

All he heard was your voice. Every syllable carved its way under his skin. Every breath dragged along his spine.

He gripped the edge of the pew until his knuckles went white.

That night, the Jesus statue in his office was facing a different direction.

He hadn’t moved it.

—

Friday

You wore red. No one else seemed to notice.

Not the color, not the way the fabric curved over your waist, not the flash of leg when you walked.

But he did. He felt it.

You stood in the hallway, speaking to Yunho—a visiting seminarian who was annoyingly charming and far too friendly with you—and you laughed.

A soft, girlish sound. Bright.

His stomach twisted.

You turned, and for just a second, you looked at him.

Direct. Slow. Knowing.

And smiled.

He excused himself to the confessional that night. Not for a parishioner. For himself.

But when he stepped inside, he felt it. The memory. The weight of that voice in that very booth. The echo of that whisper: “Have you ever sinned, Hongjoong?”

He couldn’t answer then. He still couldn’t now.

But he was starting to wonder if the answer was yes.

˚₊‧ა ♱ ໒ ‧₊˚

The church was quiet. Deceptively so. The kind of quiet that felt like something was holding its breath.

It was well past ten, and he should’ve sent you home hours ago. But the bulletin printer had jammed, and you’d insisted on helping.

Of course you had. Always so eager. So helpful. So... near.

Hongjoong sat at his desk, flipping through hymn sheets with hands that trembled more than he wanted to admit.

Across from him, you stood filing announcements into neat folders, lips pursed in concentration, soft hums escaping now and then as you worked. Your voice was light, innocent, lovely—and it burned in his ears.

Your skirt slid up slightly when you leaned forward. The neckline of your blouse dipped just enough to show the rise of your breasts. Glossy lips glistened in the candlelight like temptation itself.

He clenched his jaw and looked back at his papers.

It’s not real. She’s dressed modestly. The others would’ve said something if she wasn’t.

It’s just you. It’s your weakness. Your sin. Yours.

And then—

Crack.

The sound made him flinch.

He looked up just in time to see a small ceramic statue tumble from the shelf behind you. It hit the wooden floor and split down the middle.

Saint Cecilia.

The patron saint of purity and music. Her painted hands folded in prayer now lay separated across the floor.

You turned slowly, lips parted in a little gasp, but your eyes… your eyes sparkled like you weren’t sorry at all.

“Oh no…” You said, voice soft and breathy. “I didn’t even touch it. I just walked by.”

He stared at the broken figure, frozen. The timing. The saint. The silence that followed.

You bent to pick it up, too slowly.

Your skirt lifted just a little more. Hongjoong looked away immediately, biting the inside of his cheek.

When you stood again, you held the cracked statue like it was a sleeping baby. You walked toward his desk, setting it down gently in front of him—and then leaned forward, both palms flat on the desk.

Too close.

Your blouse shifted. He could see the soft line of your cleavage. Smell your perfume—sweet and dark like pomegranate and honey.

Your eyes locked on his “You think it’s a sign?” You asked, voice low now.

Different and closer to the one from the booth.

His breath caught.

“Maybe something… divine… is trying to speak to us.”

That smile. That curve of lip like you already knew the ending of a story he hadn’t read yet.

He stood abruptly, chair scraping against the wood.

“It’s late,” He said. Too quickly. “We’re done for tonight.”

You blinked, feigning innocence “Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” He said tightly. “I just— I need to lock up.”

You gave him a soft little nod, brushing imaginary dust off your skirt. As you turned to leave, you let your fingers trail along his desk—and then down his wrist, barely a touch.

But his skin burned there, long after you’d walked away.

That night, he didn’t sleep.

He stared at his ceiling for hours, sheets tangled around his legs, heart pounding like he was running from something.

From you. From himself.

He hated how vividly he could picture your mouth when you said his name.

How the scent of your perfume lingered in his office even after you left.

How you made him feel like his soul was trembling.

And worst of all—He wasn’t even sure he wanted it to stop.

♱

The chapel was dim, lit only by soft candlelight and the blue tint of evening seeping through stained glass.

The parish had long since emptied after evening mass, and silence wrapped itself around the church like velvet.

Hongjoong had stayed behind to pray. Or at least, that’s what he told himself.

But prayer had become harder lately. His words stumbled in his throat. His fingers hesitated over the rosary beads. His mind kept wandering where it shouldn't.

To you.

To the girl who wasn’t really a girl at all.

Who looked like sweetness and smelled like sin.

Who stood just behind him now, her heels silent on the old stone floor.

He felt you before he heard you.

That gentle hum in the air. That shift in pressure. That low ache building in his gut every time you were near.

“Father,” You whispered from behind, your voice velvet-smooth. “You forgot your reading for Sunday. I thought I’d bring it.”

He turned, startled—and there you were. Not the modest girl everyone else saw.

You were dressed in red again. Bare legs, glossy lips, soft blouse tugged slightly off one shoulder, exposing the delicate line of your collarbone.

You looked like no one had ever touched you, and like everyone should.

He swallowed hard, taking the pages from your hand, careful not to brush your fingers this time.

But then, you stepped closer. One step. Then another.

Until your body was close enough for him to feel the warmth rising off your skin. Your perfume was heavier tonight—dark fruit and crushed petals. It curled into his lungs and tangled itself there.

“You look tired, Father.” You tilted your head, voice a quiet purr. “Shouldn’t you rest?”

He couldn’t move.

“I can help,” You said, lifting one hand—not touching, just hovering. “Let me ease your burdens. I know what you need.”

His breathing hitched. He should've stepped back. Should’ve told you to stop. Should’ve remembered his collar. His vows.

Instead, his eyes fell to your lips—soft, parted, gloss catching the candlelight.

“Don’t,” He rasped, voice low and broken. “Please…”

But you leaned in anyway, just a little. Not touching. Just… there.

Your powers pulsed softly through the air like a lover’s sigh. Not overwhelming. Just enough to make his body ache with need.

You didn’t have to kiss him. He was already falling. Your fingers brushed over his chest, right above his heart, and he flinched—not from pain.

From how good it felt.

“You’ve been strong all week,” You whispered, close enough for him to feel your breath on his cheek. “But everyone breaks eventually, Father. Even the saints.”

He didn’t breathe. His lips parted—like he wanted to speak, or scream, or maybe say your name.

Then—

“Hongjoong!”

The door creaked open, heavy and loud. Father Jongho’s voice snapped through the air like lightning.

You stepped back instantly—eyes wide, expression shifting like a mask—innocent, unreadable, perfect.

Hongjoong blinked. The spell shattered. Jongho looked between you both, brow furrowing slightly.

“Everything alright?”

Hongjoong swallowed and nodded, too quickly “Y-Yes. She was just giving me the Sunday reading.”

You held up the papers with a soft smile “Just doing my duty, Father.”

Jongho nodded slowly, then turned to Hongjoong “Mind if I steal you for a minute? There’s something in the rectory.”

“Of course.” His voice was hoarse. He didn’t look at you again.

When he followed Jongho, he felt your eyes burning between his shoulder blades.

He didn’t speak the rest of the night.

But when he lay in bed hours later, sweating under cold sheets, he could still feel your fingers on his chest… Still hear your voice…

“Even the saints break, Father.”

—

The air in the rectory was heavy with incense, the scent clinging to every book, robe, and breath. Hongjoong sat stiffly in the chair across from Father Jongho’s desk, fingers clenching the hem of his robe, jaw locked tight.

He didn’t know why it took him this long to say something. Maybe part of him hoped he was imagining it all.

But he wasn’t. He couldn’t be.

Jongho looked at him expectantly, calm as ever “What’s wrong?”

A pause.

Then Hongjoong finally spoke, voice low “It’s about… Her.”

“What about her?”

Hongjoong hesitated, then exhaled through his nose and pushed forward.

“It’s the way she… dresses.”

Jongho’s brows rose slightly in surprise “What do you mean?”

“You’ve seen it, haven’t you?” Hongjoong pressed. “The skirts. The heels. The lip gloss. The—” he stopped himself, voice heating. “The way her blouse fits—tight. Low cut. It’s—”

“She wears long skirts, Hongjoong.” Jongho’s voice was firm, a touch confused. “Always. Past the knee. Her shirts have collars. Sleeves to her wrists. She wears a rosary around her neck every day.”

Hongjoong stared.

Jongho leaned forward a little, eyes narrowing “Are you… seeing something I’m not?”

Silence.

“You think I’m imagining it.” Hongjoong said finally, voice tight.

“No,” He replied gently. “But maybe you’re projecting something. You’ve been under stress. You haven’t been sleeping. And you’ve had… doubts, haven’t you?”

Hongjoong stood abruptly, agitated now.

“That’s not all.” He started to pace. “Since she started helping me, strange things have been happening in my office.”

Jongho raised a brow “Strange how?”

“The crucifix fell from my wall—out of nowhere. Saint Cecilia, the statue, it cracked clean down the middle without being touched. And the Jesus statue…”

He hesitated.

“It turned around. I didn’t move it. I would never move it.”

Now Jongho was watching him carefully. Not dismissive. Not skeptical. Just calm.

Too calm.

“You think she caused it?”

Hongjoong didn’t answer. Not directly.

“There’s something… wrong. I don’t know what it is, but when she’s around—everything feels off. I can’t think. I can’t pray. And sometimes…” His voice dropped. “Sometimes, it feels like she already knows what I’m thinking.”

Jongho leaned back in his chair.

“Temptation has many forms, Hongjoong.” His voice was thoughtful. “Sometimes the devil doesn’t appear with horns or fire. Sometimes it’s a voice. A thought. A doubt in the mind.”

That only made the knot in Hongjoong’s chest tighten.

Because Jongho didn’t understand. He couldn’t.

This wasn’t just temptation. This wasn’t just lust.

This felt designed.

Jongho continued, unaware he was pouring gasoline on the fire:

“But you said she dresses inappropriately. No one else has mentioned it. The sisters compliment her modesty. The parishioners say she’s graceful. Soft-spoken.”

Hongjoong’s eyes slowly lifted to meet his “Then why do I see something else?”

The silence that followed was long. Cold.

Jongho folded his hands over the desk “Maybe it’s not about what she is.” A pause. “Maybe it’s about what you’re becoming.”

—

Hongjoong left shortly after, the chill of that last sentence clinging to his spine like ice.

By the time he returned to his office, the rosary had fallen from the wall hook. Again.

But that wasn’t what made him freeze.

The Saint Cecilia statue—the one cracked in half—had been moved.

Now it faced the door.

˚₊‧ა ♱ ໒ ‧₊˚

He woke up gasping. Heart pounding.

A cold sweat clung to his back. The room was too still, too silent. No wind. No creak of wood. No night sounds.

Just... that feeling. He was not alone.

Then—

A breath.

A shift.

His eyes snapped to the far end of the room, and there she stood.

Not human. Not even close.

Her skin shimmered bronze under the moonlight, smooth like obsidian dipped in fire. Black hair curled down her back in waves too perfect to belong to anything real.

Tiny horns, barely peeking from her hairline, gleamed faintly. Her eyes—bottomless black, void of light or mercy—locked on his, and he froze.

She smiled.

A cruel, beautiful thing. Lips painted the color of fresh blood, glistening like sin. Her dress—a slip of silk the color of spilt wine—clung to her curves, rising high on her thighs and dipping low over her tattooed chest.

There, etched into her skin like a mark of royalty, were dozens of charms—tiny infernal sigils wrapped around her collarbone like a demonic rosary.

Flames. Serpents. Broken wings.

She was terrifying, breathtaking, and wrong. So deeply, viscerally wrong.

“God—” Hongjoong gasped, scrambling backwards in bed. “Get away from me!”

The thing—the creature—laughed softly.

“Is that really how you greet a visitor, Father?”

Her voice curled into the air like incense—familiar, almost, but distorted, deeper. Older. Something in him twitched at the sound, but the fear swallowed it before it could bloom into thought.

He reached for the crucifix hanging around his neck, clutching it so hard the chain bit into his palm.

“Deliver me, O Lord—” He began to pray, voice shaking. “Shield me from the enemy—”

She walked toward him slowly, bare feet whispering over the floor like smoke.

“Your Lord isn’t listening tonight,” She whispered. “He’s not coming. You’ve already let me in.”

He wanted to scream, but his breath stuttered. She climbed onto the bed like it was hers, slipping over him with catlike grace. He tried to crawl away—tried to shove her off—but his limbs felt heavy, unresponsive, like the air itself had turned to syrup.

And then she was straddling him. Hongjoong shook from head to toe. The crucifix trembled in his grip.

“What do you want?” He spat, trying to sound stronger than he felt.

She leaned down, lips grazing the shell of his ear “I want what’s already breaking.”

One hand trailed up his chest. Her fingers were long, nails black and curved just enough to tease the border between a caress and a cut.

He flinched.

“You’ve been so faithful, haven’t you?” She murmured, nails trailing the edge of his collar. “So good. But you’re tired of silence, aren’t you? Tired of praying and hearing nothing back?”

His body was locked in place, heart pounding like it would burst. He shut his eyes and whispered another prayer.

Louder this time. Desperate.

“Deliver me. Deliver me. Deliver me…”

She giggled, childlike and cruel “I already have, Hongjoong.”

He froze.

“How—how do you know my name—”

But when he opened his eyes—She was gone.

No trace. No warmth. No scent.

Only silence.

And the crucifix? Cold. Lifeless.

As if even it had turned away.

He lay frozen for what felt like hours.

He didn’t sleep. He didn’t speak. He didn’t even breathe deeply until the sun started to rise.

And when he finally stood, eyes sunken and wild, he didn’t go to morning prayer. He went to the restricted archives of the church library, the one sealed to all but ordained priests.

He needed answers. Because that thing knew him. That thing had touched him.

And worst of all? Somewhere in the deepest part of him… a part of him had wanted it.

˚₊‧ა ♱ ໒ ‧₊˚

Your chamber smelled like smoke and roses, thick and heavy, blooming in the air like a dark promise.

You stood in front of your ornate mirror, slipping on a blood-red slip of a top, cut low enough to make angels weep and devils grin.

Your chest tattoo shimmered under the candlelight, dozens of little charms circling your heart like victory medals. But tonight, there would be one more.

There had to be.

You could still taste Hongjoong’s fear from last night. Still feel his heartbeat pounding against your thighs. He hadn’t recognized you, not under your real form, but oh, he felt you. Every inch of you.

The terror. The temptation. The ache.

He was so close. One thread away from unraveling. You grinned, dragging a finger along the edge of your lips as you admired your reflection.

And then—

“So…” San’s voice curled into the room like smoke, lazy and teasing. “Did I already win the bet?”

You turned slightly, eyes narrowing with amusement as you watched him lean against your doorframe—shirt unbuttoned, black tattoos running up his neck like thorned vines, mischief glowing in his amber eyes.

“What do you mean?” You replied smoothly, tossing a black lace slip onto your bed. “I’m still in the process.”

He raised a brow “It’s been two weeks. I haven’t seen you take anything. I’m assuming you’ve failed.”

You scoffed, walking past him to your armoire, hips swaying in that unbothered way that made lesser demons tremble.

“Of course not. He’s breaking.” You turned your head, smirking. “And after what happened last night? I’m sure tonight’s the night I get that fucking charm.”

San clicked his tongue, unimpressed. He pushed himself off the frame and crossed the room in a few casual strides. When he reached you, his fingers hooked under your chin, lifting it until your eyes met his.

“Sweetheart,” He drawled, voice a slow threat wrapped in velvet. “I’m not waiting any longer for your little cat-and-mouse fantasy."

"Either take his soul tonight…” He leaned in close, lips ghosting your cheek “Or I take you tomorrow.”

Your lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile. Then you slapped his hand away.

“Get lost, Choi San.”

He laughed. Loud. Taunting. But you were already turning your back on him, reaching for your shoes—black stilettos sharp enough to kill a saint.

“You think you scare me?” You said with a playful hum. “I’ve walked through hell in nothing but my smile. I’ve eaten kings. I’ve made priests slit their wrists just to hear my name again.”

San tilted his head, watching you with open hunger “Then prove it.”

“I will.” You smirked, sliding the heel on and standing tall. “Tonight, he breaks.”

You looked into the mirror one last time. Your skin glowed like firelight, your lips were sinful, and your eyes—deep, black, endless—promised the kind of pleasure even demons prayed for.

One more charm. One more sin.

And Hongjoong would fall. Not to your power, but to his own desire.

♱

“Father, are you okay?”

The voice made him flinch. Hongjoong slammed the book shut with a force that startled even him. The aged pages of the thick, leather-bound tome shuddered closed, its spine exhaling dust into the candlelit air.

He looked up, and froze. You were standing at the office door.

Beautiful.

Wrong.

Tonight you looked different. So different, it made the hair on his arms rise.

Your skirt was shorter than anything he'd ever seen you wear, just above the knees, hugging your hips.

A corset laced tight along your torso, pushing your breasts up in a way that made him swallow hard and immediately hate himself for it. One slight movement, and they’d spill out, he was sure of it.

Your heels were thin and high, clicking with every soft step. Your hair was sleek and glossy, falling like silk down your back. And your lips—

Red. Blood red. Glassy. Luscious. Sinful.

His heart beat once. Twice. Harder.

“Yes—what brings you here, Sister? It’s your… your free day.” His voice cracked a little despite the calm tone he tried to maintain.

He hated how hard it was to look away from you. You smiled politely—gently even—as if you were truly just a pious, sweet girl. But he could see the gloss glinting under the low lamplight.

Could see the way you slowly approached his desk, each step making his body tighten with dread.

“It’s already past ten, Father,” You said softly, tilting your head. “What are you still doing here?”

He blinked. Looked at his watch.

You were right.

Past ten.

Had he really been reading that long?

He rubbed his temple, weariness sinking deep into his bones—no, into his soul. Ever since last night—since that visitation, that hallucination, that creature—he hadn’t been able to stop shaking.

The book on his desk—thick, old, bound in cracked leather—had confirmed his worst fear.

He hadn’t even noticed the hour. Hours had passed since he first opened that forbidden text, a catalog of known demonic classes and entities.

He’d read about the high-ranking ones, marked by charms carved into their skin, like a crown of corruption on their flesh. Seductive, powerful, destructive.

Once invited into your life, they don’t leave. Not until they own you.

Just like she—it—said. And that thing from last night? It had those charms.

Hongjoong exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose “I didn’t know it was this late,” He said. “But… what are you doing here, Sister?”

“I came to confess.” You shrugged, as if it were the most casual thing in the world.

His brows furrowed “Confess? At this hour?”

“I know it’s late.” You walked closer, each step an echo against the hollow chapel halls. “But something inside me told me you'd be here. And if I don’t confess tonight… I don’t think I’ll sleep.”

He should’ve said no. He should’ve told you to come back in the morning. That this wasn’t appropriate.

That he wasn’t… stable enough tonight.

But instead—He sighed “Very well.” He stood. “Let’s go to the booth.”

You walked side by side in silence. Each click of your heels made his pulse throb in his ears. His body tensed more with every step, not because he feared you’d do something… but because he feared what he might feel.

You walked like temptation itself, and no one else ever seemed to notice.

Only him.

When you arrived at the confessional, he gestured for you to enter first. You did so gracefully, your hands folded, expression calm. Then he moved to the other side, sitting behind the old carved screen, now suddenly very aware of how thin that wooden barrier really was.

He let out a slow breath, calming himself.

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,” Your voice whispered through the screen, soft and trembling.

“How long has it been since your last confession?”

A long pause.

“...I’ve never truly confessed before.”

Something in your voice was off. Not in tone, but in depth. Like the words were being pulled from a deeper place. Something old. He felt his chest tighten.

“Then speak,” He said quietly. “God is listening.”

You were silent for a moment. And then—

“Since I came here… I’ve been watching a man.”

The world stopped spinning.

“A holy man.”

Hongjoong’s throat dried.

“At first, I only watched. I wanted to know how he prayed. How he spoke. How he carried the weight of purity like it was a gift and a burden.”

You inhaled shakily.

“But something about him made it impossible to stop. I memorized his voice. His walk. The way his mouth moved when he whispered scripture under his breath.”

His hands clenched tightly in his lap.

“I watched him at night, too.”

“What?” His voice cracked. “You—”

“I stood at his window. I learned his shadows. I imagined things. Dreamt things. His hands on me. His body pressed to mine. His voice… not praying, but moaning.”

A tear slipped down your cheek. He could hear it in your voice.

“I didn’t want this. I didn’t mean to fall this deep. But I want him. In ways I shouldn’t. In ways that make me burn. And every day, I get closer to doing something I can’t undo.”

You sobbed.

Real, wrecking, aching. And that was what destroyed him.

Because it sounded real. Not like a seduction. Not like a trick. But like a broken confession.

A woman in pain. A soul unraveling.

He hesitated only a second before rising from his seat. He stepped out of his side, hand trembling, and slowly opened the door to yours—And you looked up.

Eyes filled with tears. Lip quivering. Face flushed and wet from crying, and for the first time since you came into his life… He didn’t see temptation. Or corruption.

He saw pain. A girl hurting.

“Sister…” He whispered, stepping closer. “I didn’t know…”

You reached up, timidly. A single hand against his chest.

“I’m sorry,” You whispered. “I don’t want to feel like this. But I love him. I love him so much it hurts, and I don’t know what to do.”

He placed his hand gently over yours “You’re… not alone. You don’t have to suffer alone.”

You rose from the seat slowly, body shaking as you stepped into his arms, and he didn’t move. Didn’t stop you. He held you.

Tightly.

You looked up at him, lips barely apart “He makes me feel like I’m something more than what I was made to be…” You whispered. “Do you think that’s wrong, Father?”

“No,” He said breathlessly. “No, I—”

You leaned in, and kissed him.

Softly. Desperately. Brokenly.

And he hesitated.

For a second—one second—he held his breath, clinging to the last fragile thread of faith holding him back.

But then, you kissed him again, and that thread snapped.

His hands cupped your face. Your tears smeared against his cheeks, and he kissed you back.

Deeper. Wilder. Hopelessly.

He didn’t know it yet, but the moment his lips met yours, his soul stopped being his.

You had him.

Now, it was only a matter of time.

The moment Hongjoong kissed you back, the air in the confessional thickened—warm, syrupy, laced with the scent of melted candle wax and something darker, something like burnt sugar and myrrh.

His hands trembled against your face, his breath coming in ragged bursts against your lips, but he didn’t pull away.

He couldn’t.

Your fingers curled into the front of his robes, tugging him closer until his body pressed flush against yours.

The fabric of your corset dug into his chest, the hard edges of the boning a sharp contrast to the softness beneath.

You sighed into his mouth, sweet and needy, and he made a sound—a broken, half-choked noise, like a man drowning in honey.

"Sister—" He gasped when you pulled back just enough to let him breathe. His voice was wrecked. "We can’t—this is—"

You silenced him with another kiss, slower this time, your tongue tracing the seam of his lips until they parted for you. He groaned, low and involuntary, and you felt the exact moment his resolve cracked.

His hands slid from your face to your waist, gripping hard enough to bruise—if you were human.

"Tell me to stop," You murmured against his lips, even as your fingers worked at the buttons of his cassock. "Tell me this is wrong."

He didn’t.

Instead, his breath hitched as your hands slipped beneath the heavy fabric, skimming over the thin cotton of his undershirt. His skin burned under your touch, his hips jerking forward when your nails scraped lightly over his stomach.

"You’re shaking," You teased, nipping at his lower lip. "Is this your first time, Father?"

The flush that spread down his neck was answer enough. You laughed, soft and wicked, and dropped to your knees.

Hongjoong made a strangled noise, his hands flying to your shoulders as if to push you away—or pull you closer.

"Wait—"

But you were already undoing his belt, your fingers deft and sure.

His cock sprang free, already hard, flushed a pretty pink and twitching against his stomach. You hummed, tilting your head as if admiring a sacred relic.

"Beautiful," You breathed, and then—without warning—you took him into your mouth.

Hongjoong bucked, a ragged cry tearing from his throat. His fingers tangled in your hair, tugging almost painfully, but you didn’t stop.

You hollowed your cheeks, sucking him deep, your tongue swirling around the head every time you pulled back. His thighs trembled, his breath coming in short, desperate gasps as you worked him over with slow, filthy drags of your lips.

"Fuck—" He choked out, hips stuttering. "I—I can’t—"

You pulled off with a wet pop, grinning up at him "You can’t what, Father?"

His eyes were glassy, his lips swollen from kissing. He looked ruined already, and you hadn’t even fucked him yet.

"I can’t… do this," He whispered, but his hands were still in your hair, his cock still dripping against your chin.

You leaned forward, licking a slow stripe up his length, and watched his eyelids flutter.

"But you want to."

He didn’t deny it. You stood then, pressing your body against his, your lips brushing his ear as you whispered:

"Take me to your bed."

For a heartbeat, he hesitated. Then—

He moved.

His hands gripped your hips, spinning you around and pushing you toward the door. The chapel was empty, the halls dark, but neither of you cared.

You stumbled through the rectory, his mouth hot on your neck, his fingers digging into your skin like he was afraid you’d vanish if he let go.

When you reached a room, he slammed the door shut with his foot and pinned you against it, his breath ragged against your throat.

"Last chance," He gritted out, his voice raw. "Tell me this isn’t real. Tell me to stop."

You smiled, slow and knowing, and reached between you to stroke him again.

"Make me."

Something in him snapped.

He kissed you like a starving man, his hands tearing at your clothes with none of the reverence he showed in the chapel. Your corset hit the floor with a thud, your skirt following soon after.

When his fingers finally found your cunt, you were already soaked—and the noise he made at the discovery was filthy.

"God—" He groaned, his fingers sliding through your slick. "You’re… you’re dripping."

You arched into his touch, your nails scraping down his back.

"For you," You purred. "Only for you."

He shuddered, his forehead dropping to your shoulder as he pushed two fingers inside you without warning. You gasped, your hips rolling against his hand, your breath coming faster as he curled his fingers just right.

"You like that?" He murmured, his voice rough with desire.

You moaned in response, your head falling back against the door. His lips found your throat, his teeth nipping at the delicate skin as his fingers worked you open.

"Hongjoong—" You whined, your legs trembling.

He pulled his fingers free, ignoring your frustrated noise, and lifted you effortlessly, carrying you to the bed.

When your back hit the mattress, he was on you in an instant, his body covering yours, his cock pressing against your entrance.

"Tell me you want this," He demanded, his voice dark.

You grinned, wrapping your legs around his waist "Make me yours, Father."

He snarled—and then he was inside you, finally, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust.

You screamed, your back arching off the bed as he filled you, the stretch delicious, the burn even better. He didn’t give you time to adjust—just pulled out and slammed back in, setting a punishing pace from the start.

"God—" He gasped, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave marks. "You feel—"

You cut him off with a kiss, your nails digging into his shoulders as he fucked you into the mattress.

The bed rocked beneath you, the headboard slamming against the wall with every thrust. His breath was hot against your lips, his moans sinful, filthy things that would’ve made his congregation faint.

"Harder," You demanded, your voice a breathless whine.

He obeyed, his hips snapping forward with enough force to make you see stars. You could feel him everywhere—his skin against yours, his cock stretching you open, his breath mingling with yours as he chased his release.

And then—You changed.

Your skin darkened, your horns curled from your hairline, your tattoos glowed with infernal power. Hongjoong froze above you, his eyes widening in horror as he realized—

"You—" He gasped, his voice shaking. "It was you. That night. The—"

You grinned, all sharp teeth and wicked promise, and rolled your hips beneath him.

"Say it, Father."

He sobbed, his hips stuttering "No—"

"Say it." You clenched around him, watching his resolve crumble.

"Demon," He choked out, his body trembling.

You laughed, low and sinful, and dragged your nails down his back.

"And yet you’re still inside me."

His breath hitched—and then he was coming, his cock pulsing deep inside you as he spilled with a broken cry. You arched beneath him, your own climax crashing over you as his warmth filled you, his body collapsing against yours in the aftermath.

For a long moment, there was only silence—broken only by the sound of his ragged breathing.

Then you felt it. The charm forming on your chest, a new mark joining the others—a rosary, broken and bleeding.

Another soul claimed.

You smiled, running your fingers through Hongjoong’s sweat-damp hair as he lay trembling against you.

"Welcome to Hell, Father."

Taglist: @almostholypirate @domfikeluva @hurryupmars @a-tiny-thing @silenttrxxs @innocygnet @alliecoady98 @posseup @yothangie @a-atiny_niawoo @justconniez @niaee @0407files @maidens-world @zaynsfl4m3s @maplelilly05 @xh01bri @sannieily @nkryuki @lemonkait00 @khaskl08 @badbitch69420sworld @jilxxasu @vnxlla @lezleeferguson-120 @lunaryoongie @stayatinykatsy @milliesupremexx @unbroken-shadows @itzyejiluv @lover-ofallthingspretty @queenofdumbfuckery @johaeyeon @xopierrot @m0onchild-98 @nyx-y @daniela-f-uwu @atinyno1likeme @bbyunicornbby @pansexual-and-eating-pancakes @byongmingcomehome @enbysforhongjoong @zaynsfl4m3s @arilevenatz @hwa2tiny

@dekyepunn @scheepmans @yuuuuuuusthings @blue5ummer @soobieboobiebaby @twancingyunhao @prchiquita8 @estrnrea @yoonglesbae

@ilovemommyhwa @blniight @blueginz @bxnnibabie @herpoetryprincess @hecateslittlewitchling

☆○☆○☆

All rights reserved ♡bunny-hwa. Do not copy or translate my work.

[airaviity]

Puff, Puff, Pass

➾In Which: Two things get passed around; the joint — and you.

RATED XXX. MATURE AUDIENCES ONLY.

❥Park Seonghwa x Kim Hongjoong x Kang Yeosang x fem reader

♫In Your Fantasy - ATEEZ♫

➯a/n: AH AH AH AH NOBODY LOOK AT ME NOBODY TOUCH ME IM HEJFIWBDKEQ- i really liked the new songs and im totally normal about them <3. totally not foaming at the mouth. totally not losing my mind. totally —

(>ᴗ•)genre: pure, filthy, unfiltered debauchery

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: i am ovulating. strap the FUCK in lovelies. ROUGH, MEAN, DIRTY. hongjoong and reader in an established relationship, he shares her <3 (he's still possessive though dw), implied chubby reader (squishable boobs, thighs, and tummy), doms hj and ys / switch (?) sh / sub reader, incredibly filthy but also completely safe: hongjoong is much more sober and makes sure reader feels safe / doesn't do anything she's uncomfortable with, that being said: free use reader gets her shit rocked, sub space, unprotected; pull out method + (1) creampie, orgasm control + edging + overstim, dry humping, high as some mfing kites, spit, messy kissing, face fucking, face sitting, breath play, giggly moments, fingering, hair pulling, m x m; kissing + grinding + sexual tension, cum eating, dacryphilia, manhandling, yeosang is a mean little weirdo (i luv him), praise + degradation, a few light spanks / slaps, park seonghwa's oppa kink. pet names + name calling: (dumb, little, sweet, messy, dirty, stupid, pretty, needy) baby, angel, slut, cumdump, fleshlight, love, girl, fuck(er), dummy / oppa, sir, joong(ie), sang(ie), hwa, pervert

♡masterlist + navigation !♡

₊‧⁺stardust˖⋆ @sunnysidesins @onyxmango @devilzliaison @ateezswonderland @queenofdumbfuckery @emilysecresy @kyomiingi @pansexual-and-eating-pancakes @klllerwaifu @seonghwasslytherin @yoonglesbae @wolviejex @estrnrea @lover-ofallthingspretty @willowwyy @jaerisdiction @peelingpaint-heavyheart @satsuri3su @bubbly-moon @hannahstacos

18+.MINORS WILL GET IRREVERSIBLE BRAIN DAMAGE.

─..puff.puff.pass.─────

"Are you sure she's okay with this?" Seonghwa asks while he nervously bites at his thumb, looking over to where you sit with Yeosang at the table.

Your fuzzy socked feet pulled up on the chair, your chin on your knees as you roll a large joint; making small talk with the younger member. You don't even look the slightest bit nervous or shy despite what you all know is coming.

Yeosang looks a bit more shy than usual, and he keeps his eyes locked onto your nimble fingers after you caught him staring at your nipples through your thin tank top.

"Yeah," Hongjoong answers simply, dropping his phone in his lap and leaning back to look over at you with a small smirk. "She's excited."

"What about you?"

"Me?" Hongjoong raises a brow, "what about me?"

"Are you... excited?"

"Oh," he breathes, before a large smile spreads across his face, "very. She's actually super slutty, I want to see how she acts with you guys. I bet she'll cum s-"

"Hongjoong!" Seonghwa yells, eyes wide and hand over his mouth, "you can't call her that-"

He laughs, meeting his eyes with yours as you and Yeosang look over to the commotion, "baby, come here for a second?"

You slide the small tray with the paper and buds on it to Yeosang before you hop down and come over with a smile. "What's u-"

"Get on your knees." Hongjoong says flatly, staring up at you.

You can feel Yeosang staring at you from the table, and Seonghwa is looking up at you with eyes still wide.

You sink to your knees without a second thought, even if it does make your heart beat a little faster. "You still want to-" Your boyfriend goes to speak, when you cut him off.

Nodding eagerly, "I really do."

"You do?" And you nod. "Because you're my slut, right?" Another nod — and you hear Seonghwa's breathing picking up a bit. "And you like it when I tell you what to do?"

Seonghwa thinks he might explode as you keep nodding your head obediently, knelt between them; a bit more towards Hongjoong. He's never seen someone so... pliable. It's making his pants tight around the crotch.

"And you really, really like it when I use you as my personal fleshlight, don't you, baby?"

"Yes-"

"Give me a kiss," he doesn't even give you time to respond before he's leaning down and grabbing you by the throat, lips pressed to yours roughly. It's even rougher than usual now that his friends are watching. Like he's showing off.

Because he most certainly is.

He pulls back and spits into your gaped mouth, spreading the saliva that misses all over your chin as you look up at him dazed. "You want to be their fleshlight, too?"

"Yeah," you pant quietly, "I want to make them feel good."

"How are you going to do that, sweet girl?" He smiles, devilish under the surface as he feels Seonghwa shifting on the couch next to him.

"Let them use me."

"Yeah? C'mere," he says softer, pulling you up to straddle him, "you want us to use you however we want?" He hums as he rubs your thighs gently.

"Yes."

"Do you want me to stay sober so I can make sure you don't do something you'll regret?"

You hesitate for a moment before you nod, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, "a little bit. Just, not as high?"

Yeosang almost scares Seonghwa with how he's snuck up on you all, holding out the lit joint to him as he blows the smoke out of his lungs.

He takes it quickly so he can calm his nerves about the whole thing, taking a long puff while listening to Hongjoongs soft reassurances to you.

"I can do that, baby," he whispers as he wraps his arms around you, voice low in your ear — but purposefully not so low that his friends can't hear him. "I'm going to share you, but don't forget who you belong to, okay? I'm the only one you share your bed with. I'm going to let my friends use your little pussy and when they're done, I'm going to fuck you so good you forget what they even felt like inside of you. Do you understand?"

"Sounds good, Joongie," you reply airily, your cheeks suddenly hot from his words; and from the way you can feel their eyes on your lower back as Hongjoong slides his hands under your shirt to caress your back.

"And if you want them to quit, you let me know. My girl comes first. Yeah?"

"Okay," you nod, looking down at him as he leans back, "love you, Joong."

"Awe, I love you too," he says with a peck to your lips, hands on your hips as he pulls away, "now show them how much of a slut you are."

You and Seonghwa both gasp as Hongjoong all but throws you into his lap; his hands clumsily coming to steady you by your waist. "H-hey, Oppa."

It's his turn to feel hot, ears practically burning as you settle over his lap; just as you were atop your boyfriend. "Hey..."

"Don't be shy, love," Hongjoong says as he takes the joint from his lips, having taken a small hit — just like you asked of him. He leans and places it between your lips, allowing you to suck on it as he says, "get nice and high for us. You always get so wet~"

"Fuck, I can't believe this is happening," Seonghwa groans, rubbing his face.

"Why not?" Yeosang asks as he sits on his other side, eyeing you slowly as Hongjoong holds the joint for you to take another hit. "If you don't want to touch her, let me."

Seonghwa stops you when you go to move towards him; hands firmer on your sides. "Don't-" He hesitates, "I want you to grind on me."

Hongjoong smirks as you immediately start moving your hips, your hands settled on your thighs — afraid to touch. "You can touch, can't she, Hwa?" He reaches between you and hands Yeosang the joint.

He looks between you before nodding quickly, "yes- yeah, I don't mind."

"Of course you don't," Yeosang chuckles before taking a quick hit, "pretty girl grinding on your cock, you'd be stupid if you were complaining."

His casual calling of you 'pretty' makes you even more shy, whining as you move to press your face into Seonghwa's chest; holding onto his shirt as you swirl your hips lightly.

"Awe, my little slut is shy, huh?" Hongjoong giggles, giving a small spank to your ass and making you jump. "I know you can do better than that, don't embarrass me now."

"Fucking-" Seonghwa gasps, instinctively grabbing at you as you grind into his growing bulge — deep and perfectly paced, "oh my god~" He bites his lip quickly, head tilted back to stare at the ceiling.

"See, that's more like it," Hongjoong hums, rubbing your sore cheek, "be a good whore for Oppa~"

Seonghwa snaps his head down to glare at him, mouth open to chastise him when you give a particularly nice roll of your hips and all he can get out instead is a moan. "Oh, shit-" He grips your hips, guiding you to repeat the motion, "like that."

Yeosang places the blunt in his lips, letting it hang as he stands up; tired of watching. He quickly unbuttons his pants, pulling his zipper down to give some relief to his aching cock. He comes behind you, gathering up your hair before pulling you up, "come here, slut."

Hongjoong laughs at the lost look in your eyes as you come up; inebriated brain lagging behind as you catch up to someone else calling you that.

"Finish it off," Yeosang hums as he places the joint into your mouth, a good four hits still on it. "I want to you to be so high you forget where you are when I fuck your brains out."

Seonghwa pants out a laugh as you cough, shocked by his bluntness so much that your hips still. Hongjoong does the same, adding to your shock when he smacks your ass again, "did we tell you to stop, dummy?"

You steady yourself with your hand on Seonghwa's stomach, the other pinching the joint as you catch your breath. "Sorry..."

"It's okay, pretty baby," Hongjoong leans and kisses your cheek as Seonghwa starts pulling your hips again, "now, do what Yeosang asked. Don't disappoint our guests."

You nod, shakily bringing the joint back to your lips and taking a large puff.

"She really will do anything you ask, won't she?" Yeosang asks, eyes filled with lust and curiosity as he watches you finish off the joint.

Hongjoong only smirks in response while he takes the ending from your lips, tossing it to the ashtray. "Baby," he tilts his head, and you look to him immediately, "open your mouth."

You do so with zero pause, tongue rolled out.

Seonghwa and Yeosang curse in tandem, the latter pulling you faster along his bulge as the lewd gesture makes his cock twitch.

Hongjoong stands up, tilting your head back slowly to look at them, "spit in her mouth."

Yeosang's eyes widen slightly, "really?"

"Yeah, really. She'll swallow it like a good girl," he looks to you pointedly, silently telling you to make him proud.

You hum affirmatively, locking eyes with him as he leans closer; "you'll let me spit in your mouth while you grind on someone else's cock? All while your boyfriend watches?" You nod, immediately met with his hand gripping your face as he spits right onto your tongue.

All three watch in various degrees of awe as you swallow it quickly, tongue stuck back out with a soft, "ah."

"Fuck- sorry, Hyung," Yeosang mumbles quickly as he leans down and wraps his arms around you, yanking you from Seonghwa lap and making him groan. "My turn," he breaths out as he falls back onto the couch, settling you in his lap.

Hongjoong sits next to Seonghwa, patting his shoulder with a grin, "don't worry, she's got stamina. We'll all get to use her."

"You asshole, Yeosang," he huffs softly, resting his head against the cushion and watching your hips closely as you grind down on his exposed boxers; it's almost like he can still feel it if he thinks hard enough.

"You were taking too long, I want some of her too," Yeosang pouts, but he definitely doesn't mean it — not when you're rubbing your clothed heat over his cock so deliciously.

You whine quietly as your high from the last few long hits sneaks up on you; making you light headed, along with the pleasure you're getting from pressing your clit onto him.

"Feeling good, baby?" Hongjoong asks quickly, guiding your head to rest on Yeosang's shoulder. He leans to your level and smiles as you nod quickly, "yeah? Are you getting needy?"

"Yeah," you admit tentatively, grabbing Yeosang's biceps as he grinds up into you.

"Needy little slut," Hongjoong coos as he slides his fingertips down and slips your tank tops sleeves over your shoulders. "Lift her up, Yeosang."

He groans a bit, but then he sees his intentions and moves quickly. Standing up, he steadies you with a hand on your lower back; the other carefully holding your head to his shoulder after it rolls.

Hongjoong rubs your arms softly before pulling your shirt down to your hips. Seonghwa leans forward, elbows on his legs as he watches closely, only able to catch a glimpse of your chest with the way Yeosang holds you upright.

"You're so wet," Hongjoong smiles at the evidence of how much you're enjoying yourself already, sliding all of your clothes down your legs in one slow pull; leaving you in nothing but your socks. "Come here, pretty, let me show you off~"

Yeosang pretty much falls back into his seat, eyes trailing every inch on your body wildly as Hongjoong rubs up and down your waist slowly.

"Good goddamn," Seonghwa whispers, swallowing thickly. "What the fuck." It doesn't really sound like a question, more of a way to express his disbelief as he soaks in every detail he can and commits it to memory — because there's no way he'd not be jerking off to this for years to come.

"Isn't my slut just gorgeous?" Hongjoong slips a hand to your cunt, cupping and squeezing it softly and making you gasp; grabbing at his arm for something to hold onto. "Needy little baby~" He giggles as you pout up at him beggingly.

"Please-"

Seonghwa stands up quickly, the simple sound of you begging — not even desperately or urgently — making his willpower completely disappear.

"You are such a tease, do you know that?" He says as he sandwiches you between them, suffocating you with his presence as he cups your jaw, still admiring your body. "Do you know how long I've wanted to fuck you? But, no, I just had to be a good person and not bend over my best friends girl." He meets your fuzzy gaze, slipping his hand under Hongjoongs as he grins; watching you both closely.

"R-really?" You ask shakily, feeling shrunken under his suddenly intense and dominant eyes.

"Dead fucking serious," he nods, slipping his middle finger into you and groaning as he feels around slowly; savoring the softness of your insides and making you tremble in the process. "I've jerked off to you so many times," he admits quickly, "thinking about how lucky Joong is, how he gets to fuck you. I know we all have."

"Maybe I'll invite them next time," Hongjoong purrs in your ear, massaging your breasts slowly, "would you like that? Each of my members getting a chance to feel that wet little cunt?"

"Yes-" You gasp as Yeosang sneaks up on you, gripping your jaw and turning you to look at him.

He looks from you to Hongjoong for a moment, and when he nods; Yeosang leans forward and kisses you. Messy, rough, completely overpowering your mouth with his and shoving his tongue between your lips.

You grab onto Seonghwa's side for stability as your legs wobble; another one of his fingers slipping into you. "Look at my messy slut," Hongjoong moans, grinding against your ass. When he catches your fingers raising shakily, he grabs Yeosang by his hair roughly; making him hiss. "Let her breathe," he says before pulling him to his lips instead.

He's a bit shocked at first, but he's quickly leaning into it; fighting against his tongue with his own.

You and Seonghwa both watch, and he can't help but giggle a bit. "God, I can't fucking believe this," he repeats his earlier sentiment.

"Hwa," you pant quietly, looking up at him with your chest heaving softly in Hongjoong's grasp.

His eyes widen a bit, nodding quickly. "What- what is it, are you ok-"

Hongjoong pulls away from Yeosang, looking at you with breakneck speed.

"Will you... maybe, eat me out?"

Hongjoong sighs with a laugh of relief, squeezing your chest almost affectionately. "Ah, you litter fucker, you scared me."

"Sorry, Jo- ah!" You squeal as Seonghwa drags you away, throwing you onto the couch.

"Sit up," he rushes, pulling you up to face the wall before all but falling to the floor.

"Eager," Yeosang laughs, licking his puffy lips as he comes to sit next to you.

He lifts your hips and settles his face below you, moaning from the anticipation alone. "A-are you go-"

He cuts you off, "I'm gonna sit you on my face, yeah?" Before you have a chance to respond, he's pulling you down by your hips and holding you tightly while he lands a fat lick up the length of your cunt. "Oh, holy fuck..."

"Don't get addicted," Hongjoong warns him playfully, a hint of seriousness underneath. "She'll get you."

Yeosang chuckles as you grab the back of the couch; Seonghwa immediately licking all over your dripping pussy with an eagerness that makes you tremble. "You like that?" He hums, tilting his head and cooing when you nod quickly. "Yeah, I bet you do, slut~"

"Fuck-" You go to collapse onto the cushion when Hongjoong grabs the back of your neck and holds you up.

"No hiding, remember?"

"Sorry, sir," you apologize with a small whine as Seonghwa sucks on your clit.

"Can't take it anymore," Yeosang snaps as you utter the title, yanking his boxers down and groaning loudly. Grabbing your wrist, he drags your hand over to his hard length, "take care of this, all your fucking fault anyway."

"Mh, go on, baby," Hongjoong encourages you as you hesitate, going so far as to lean over and spit in your hand, "make him feel good."

It's hard to think of how to do that — with his grip on your neck and Seonghwa's tongue in your cunt and Yeosang's powerful gaze locked in on you and your brain entirely too high to process so much information at once.

"Hey," Yeosang notices you faltering and slaps you, gently; just harsh enough to bring you back to reality and listen to his more direct command, "jerk me off."

You swallow thickly, and you're still able to spit into your hand; letting it join Hongjoongs before you wrap your hand around his cock. His head falls back with the simple touch, a groan breaking in his throat as you slowly slide your hand up and down his length.

"You're doing so good, my dirty girl~" Hongjoong grins as he watches Yeosang slump from your attention to his cock — practically melting.

"Can I cum?" You look up at him, eyes wet and a pout on your lips.

"Awe, of course, you needy girl," he slides his hand around and grabs the front of your throat, choking you, "fucking cum all over Hwa's face, why don't you? Show him how nice it tastes."

You manage to give Yeosang a few more strokes before you have to let go, grabbing his arm and squeezing it tightly as you do just as your boyfriend says — cum all over his best friends face.

It's so intense that you lose all of the air in your lungs, a pathetic whimper all that you can manage as it washes over you.

Yeosang is shoving his bottoms off as he watches you, locking eyes with Hongjoong briefly before he snatches up your twitching form; leaving Seonghwa panting heavily and his face blissed out like he just came.

"Shit, you alive down there?" Hongjoong laughs, kneeling down and straddling his lap. "Told you she's slutty~"

He's completely breathless, grabbing onto him out of pure instinct and forcing him down to sit on his begging cock, "Joong, please-"

They both look over as you gasp; watching Yeosang push his fat tip into your cunt. He has you perched in his lap, head held to his shoulder once again, telling you, "take it." Before he slams his length into you with one rough thrust.

You scream into his shoulder, and Hongjoongs lips spread into a large grin as he registers your jumbled words. "Oh, fucking sweet hell! S'good!"

"Messy fucking fleshlight," Yeosang groans, gripping your hair tightly, "taking my dick no problem, so wet..." He closes his eyes, panting a few times while gathering himself.

"She's taking it all just like that?" Seonghwa asks in awe, hands still gripping Hongjoongs hips tightly.

"Course she is, my slutty little angel," Hongjoong reaches and smacks your ass; making both of you gasp, because the impact makes you clench around him.

"Fuck-" Yeosang curses with his jaw clenched, wrapping his arms around you tightly before pounding into you mercilessly.

You kick your feet uselessly, balling up his shirt in your fists as you moan into his neck; hiding your face there.

"Can you handle it, baby?" Hongjoong calls out, laughing along with Seonghwa as you quickly yell out:

"Fuck yes!"

"Good girl," he chuckles before looking back down to him, your arousal still gleaming on his chin. "Ah, she got you all messy," he says nonchalantly before leaning and licking up his chin, all the way to his lips; just hardly grazing the bottom one.

"Oh, fuck me," he sighs, eyes fluttering shut as Hongjoong laps up the rest of it before giving a small roll of his hips.

"That's her job," he giggles, sliding his hands up his chest, "unless you have something different in mind~" He whispers teasingly while wrapping his hands around his neck — just barely.

Seonghwa whimpers: the sounds of you getting pummeled next to him, the taste of you lingering on his tongue, Hongjoongs weight against his cock, his hands around his neck is getting to be too much.

"You pervert," Hongjoong chuckles as he tightens his grip, "you really do want both of us."

"F-fuck, so what?" He says shakily, blush creeping up his face as he hears you yelling for Yeosang to let you cum.

"So," he opens his eyes quickly as he feels Hongjoongs breath on his lips, finding him nose to nose with him, "maybe I'll make that happen if you make my girl happy."

"You will?"

His answer comes in the form of a kiss — not dominance fighting like it was with Yeosang, but not quite loving like with you. More... experimental. Testing the waters with each other.

Hongjoong abandons his lips as he hears you whimpering, looking over to you quickly. "Pretty?"

"He won't let me cum!" You wail, clinging to Yeosang's shirt like a lifeline. "Please, Joongie, tell h-him to let me!"

Yeosang laughs, breathlessly as he continues to practically beat up your insides with his thick cock. "Beg a little more, I'll let you~"

"Yeosang, don't be a jerk. Let the poor girl-" Seonghwa gets cut off when Hongjoong slaps a hand over his mouth, leaving him a bit flabbergasted.

"Baby~" He coos, holding back his own laughter, "I'm not in charge of you right now." He always is, and he continues to be even as someone else is using you like their toy. But he likes seeing you throw your little fits from time to time. And he wants to see how you handle it. "You'll have to do what Yeosang asks."

"Please, please, please-" You do so immediately, pushing yourself up on his chest only to be met with an indifferent stare; only a small smirk playing on his lips.

"You call that begging? Hongjoong has been too soft with you for how big of a slut you are."

"Sang, pl-" He pulls you off of him, leaving you whining and pouting for him to keep going as he throws you to lay across the couch.

"You'll learn how to really beg if you want it so bad." He flips you onto your stomach, pounding back into you the second you land.

You shove your face into the cushion as you cry, kicking your legs until he grips your hair and reels you up. "Try again."

"Please, I want to-"

"Wrong." He says before letting you go, pushing your legs open with his until one of them dangles off the edge next to Seonghwa and Hongjoong.

"Yeosang!" You scream, "fuck! Please, pretty fucking goddamn please! I can't hold it, I need to cum, sir-"

You keep on rambling your pleas, but you've already satisfied him — so he slips a hand under your hips and circles your clit. "Cum."

"J- Ah, thank you!"

The way you clench and tremble around him, the way you hide in the cushion as you moan; it all almost makes him cum inside of you before he remembers Hongjoongs threats before they even set foot in your shared space.

"Shit-" He gasps, pulling out quickly and crushing you to the couch as he sits on the back of your thighs, fisting his cock quickly as he watches the way you twitch.

Seonghwa is practically drooling as he watches Yeosang's cum splatter on the expanse of your back, Hongjoong just the same.

He holds your hip in a way that must be his attempt at comfort as you both just stay for a moment and catch your breath.

"You okay, sweet girl?" Hongjoong whispers, crawling out of Seonghwa's lap and kneeling next to your head as you sniffle. You hold your hand out shakily, opening and closing it quickly. "Awe," he takes it fast, lacing his fingers with yours, "little fleshlight got her brains fucked out after just one round?"

You nod into the couch, sniffling.

"You want to keep on going?"

Again, you nod.

"Atta girl," he giggles, rubbing the back of your head gently as Yeosang stands up.

He hesitates a second, but then he leans down and moves your head to look at him. "Thanks," he says before leaning down and kissing your cheek; earning himself a smile. "You d-" He clears his throat as his heart skips a beat, "you did really good."

"Say thank you, baby," Hongjoong says softly, taking the tissue that Seonghwa offers him and wiping up your back while biting his lip.

"Thank you, Sangie," you moan softly, pushing yourself up on your shaky arms before pointing at Seonghwa.

He points towards himself as well, finger to his chest, "me?"

"Your turn."

"You don't need a break, angel?" Hongjoong hands the soiled tissue to Yeosang, and he's disappearing further into the apartment. "D-"

"No," you giggle, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his chin, "I'm ready for more. Plus, Oppa won't be rough with m-" A yelp slips past your lips as Seonghwa pulls you to the floor, cupping your head as you fall to the hard wood.

"You have got to stop calling me that," he groans as he slots himself between your legs, holding himself up with one hand while the other guides his cock along your soaked slit; impatiently pulled out of his pants.

"Sorry, sir-"

"Fuck," he whines, eyebrows pressed together, "that's even worse."

Hongjoong chuckles, coming to sit by your head as he frees his length. "I think you're making him shy, baby," he leans and pecks your lips while fisting his cock, breathing in your gasp as Seonghwa slides into you slowly. "That feel nice, hm? Needy little fleshlight~"

Seonghwa gasps as you clench around him, leaning his head against your shoulder with a low curse. "Oh, fuck, you feel so good..."

Yeosang falls back onto the couch, turning his head to watch; his dick already half-hard in his boxers again. "Pretty slut," he whispers, to no one other than himself, but given the way Hongjoongs eyes flick to him; he figures he heard.

He did — and a sick sense of pride is in his chest as he looks between Yeosang's spent form and Seonghwa's blissful face. All because of you.

He leans down quickly, taking your lips in his more roughly. Cupping your cheek and pulling one of your hands to his hard length, holding his hand over yours and using it to jerk himself off all while Seonghwa starts thrusting into you with a testing pace. "Good fucking girl," he groans into your mouth, nipping your lips, "being such a well behaved slut for us. Keep it up for me, yeah?"

"Yeah," you pant out with a nod, feeling dizzy and being thankful that Seonghwa is taking you flat on the floor so his thrust don't throw you around as much as he picks up his rhythm. "I wa-want some cum, Joongie."

"Where at?" He grins wide as he hears Seonghwa moaning into your shoulder; clearly very into your neediness in your fuzzy state of mind if the way he grips your hips says anything, if the way he starts pounding you just as hard as Yeosang did says anything.

"Ah," you tilt your head back a bit, your back arching off the floor as he prods your g-spot, opening your mouth wide.

"Oh, in here, dirty girl?" He teases, sticking two of his fingers into your mouth and pressing your tongue down before spitting into it.

Yeosang slides down, already freeing himself from the confines of his boxers and grabbing your other hand to mirror Hongjoong; jerking himself off and spitting into your open mouth as you moan.

"We're going to give you some cum, and you better keep it in your mouth until Hwa is done using your little pussy, okay? You understand me?" Hongjoong asks with a soft slap, moving your hand faster along his length.

"Mmf," you pout as Yeosang grinds his leaking tip on your heated cheek, trying to tilt your head and take it into your mouth — when Seonghwa grabs you by the base of your hair and pulls you back down.

"He's talking to you, baby," he says lowly against your throat, nickname slipping without his permission or his realization. And the way it makes you squeeze him makes him want to do it again and again. "Where's your manners at?"

"Fuck!" You writhe as he stills after a harsh thrust, pressing against everything inside of you that makes you drool; strings of saliva visible in your mouth as you open it wide and hum a, "mhm!"

"That's better, that's a polite little slut," he moans before nipping at your sweat sheened shoulder.

Hongjoong eyes him for a moment, biting his lip as he tries to decide if he's okay with how he's behaving. Seonghwa's never had a dominant bone in his body. Maybe you're such a good sub that you've brought it out of him, or maybe he's just never had the chance to be in control of someone and it's giving him a high that rivals the drugs in his system.

Either way, Hongjoong decides he likes it, because evidently so do you — uncontrollable moans muffled as Yeosang shoves his cock in your mouth and fucks the pocket of your cheek.

"F-fuck," he whines quietly, Hongjoong the only witness to his moment of sensitivity because Seonghwa is drunk on your pussy, and you're... "God, you're so pretty." He can't help but let out his thoughts under the influence of the joint and the pleasure just as much as the two of you are.

You blink up at him with teary eyes, eyelashes starting to dampen.

"Isn't she?" Hongjoong coos, petting your cheek and pressing against it as Yeosang fucks into it, making all three of you moan with the chain reaction he creates: Yeosang cumming into your mouth, you moaning and clenching around Seonghwa to beg silently for him to make you cum, and him burying his face in your chest as he fucks you even harder.

"Don't swallow, you little fucker, I see you thinking about it," Hongjoong warns with a cocky grin stuck on his face as he takes Yeosang's place; the overstimulated man falling to sit next to you all as he catches his breath.

"You've got two more loads coming, angel," he pulls your head to the side, telling you, "suck. And don't let any cum out or you're licking it off the floor."

You whine, but you do what he asks, suctioning your lips around him tightly so none of Yeosang's cum can drip out before you bob your head slowly.

Seonghwa pants heavily, chest heaving against you as he stills — he's so close to his own orgasm but he doesn't want it to end yet. He watches you suck on Hongjoong cock with what can only be described as heart eyes; and Yeosang is the same.

"What's wrong, little love?" Hongjoong whispers mockingly as your tears finally start slipping from your waterline. "Can't breathe with all that cum and cock in your mouth?"

You nod, slurping around him as some of the cum threatens to drop.

"No?" He moves you to lay your head flat again, straddling your shoulders as Seonghwa sits up and watches over his shoulder; gasping a bit shocked when he pinches your nose closed and starts fucking into your messy mouth. "Now you can't breathe, stupid slut. Keep fucking sucking- make me cum unless you want to pass out and have us use your defenseless little holes like an actual fleshlight."

You grab his thighs tightly, sucking as best you can while Seonghwa starts fucking you again; unable to stop himself as he watches the lewd scene. "Goddamn, Joong," he groans, "you're so mean to her."

"She likes it. Likes being put in her place, right?" He lets go of your nose and lets you breathe heavily through it, still obediently sucking at him. "Besides, aren't you the one beating up her pussy right now?" He chuckles as he hears another groan from behind him over the slapping of skin. Carefully, he wipes the sweat from your brows and cradles your puffy cheeks.

"I'm going to cum, don't you dare spill any and don't you dare swallow, either," he warns shortly before doing just what he says; moaning and letting his shoulders slump as he spills all of his release into your stuffed mouth.

You pant through your nose as he pulls away, jaw dropping open to show them the white pool in your mouth.

"Fucking-" The words die out on Seonghwa's tongue, his hands gripping your thighs and pulling you into his wild thrusts.

Yeosang licks his lips, eyeing you intently as you struggle to breathe with everything going on; lust still clear in his gaze.

Hongjoong moves off of you and swipes his hair back, taking a breath before he reaches down and circles your clit with quick and harsh movements, "cum for us, sweet girl~"

You choke as your pleasure breaks over you, gurgling and almost spitting the cum out before Yeosang leans quickly and slaps a hand over your mouth. "Keep it, baby. Taste us while you cum." Just like Seonghwa; the nickname flew out of his mouth without his consent or his knowledge — but Hongjoong catches it, and this time he doesn't hesitate to grin wide.

Your legs kick a few times before they fall uselessly, trembling as Seonghwa continues to fuck you through and past your mind-numbing orgasm while Hongjoong swirls his fingers on your messy clit.

"Oh, fffuck," Seonghwa moans, hands sliding up to your stomach and groping you, "ah, I want to cum so bad..."

"Not inside of her," Hongjoong warns quickly. No matter how much he's willing to share — he is the only one who gets to fill your pussy like that.

"G-god, I know," he says just as fast, hips stuttering and jolting into you like a wild animal, "but she practically beg-begging for it~ You're so. Fucking. Lucky." He growls between his teeth with a rough thrust to emphasize each word before suddenly pulling out; leaving you a trembling puddle as he climbs up your body hastily.

"Move," he grips Yeosang's wrist and pulls it away, opening up your messy mouth with a grip on your jaw. "Fucking hell," he gasps, jerking himself off quickly as you stare up at him with a dazed and content glaze in your eyes.

A little bit of his cum lands on your cheek before he places his tip in your mouth, biting back his whimpers as you suck on it. Hongjoong leans over and swipes it up; spreading it on your lips, "here we go, baby, none of it goes to waste."

Yeosang has to blink out of his daze to catch Seonghwa as he falls back, laughing as he pulls him to sit with his back against the couch. "Sweet fuck," he pants while tilting his head back.

"Swallow now, pretty girl," Hongjoong whispers, planting a kiss to your cum slick lips as you gulp. There's so much of it — you have to swallow a good three times before you can open your mouth and finally draw in some deep breaths. "Perfect~"

He wraps his arms around your shoulders and gently sits you up, making you whine, "Oppa, you j-jerk."

They all chuckle at your small pout, and Seonghwa looks down with a large smile, blush still bright on his cheeks. "Sorry, you just felt so good..."

"C'mon, little angel," Hongjoong says with a giggle, wrapping your arm over his neck to pull you up.

"I'll carry her, Hyung," Yeosang says quickly, jumping to his feet. Seonghwa is a little slower, still heavy with his bliss.

"Uh," Hongjoong hesitates, looking to you, "are you okay with that, love? He can carry you faster than me."

"Yeah," you groan, desperate for your comfortable bed and some love from your boyfriend. "Thanks, Sang," you sigh with relief as he scoops you up bridal style, leaning your head on his arm.

"No problem," he smiles down at you, feeling something a little too close to affection bubbling in his stomach and looking back up quickly. "Here we go," he sets you down slowly, scanning your body one more time, "thanks for... yeah." He kisses your cheek quickly before shuffling away quickly, giving Hongjoong a small bow as he passes.

Seonghwa comes up next, hand instinctively cupping your jaw as he leans down and kisses you softly. Short, simple, and sweet. "Thank you, baby," he whispers gently, stroking your cheek with his thumb like he's savoring the feeling of your heated skin, "you were so good for us."

"Thanks, Hwa," you lean up and peck his lips once more before he turns; smiling and nodding to Hongjoong as he heads to the door.

Hongjoong snatches up his wrist, devilish grin on his lips, "I think you made her happy." He says simply, but it carries something deeper when Seonghwa remembers his earlier words.

"Yeah?"

He nods, "maybe... this could be a regular thing. If she l-"

"Absolutely," you moan sleepily as you snuggle up ontop of your blankets.

They share a small laugh, peeking over at you. "Well, the princess has spoken," Seonghwa jokes like his heart isn't about to beat right out of his chest.

"We'll talk about it later, yeah?" Hongjoong slides his hand down his arm as he passes, climbing into the bed with you and pulling off his disheveled clothes. "Let me take care of my girl."

Seonghwa watches for a moment before he snaps back into his body, leaving the room and closing the door with a giant smile on his face.

"Are you okay, sweet love?" Hongjoong hums as he tenderly moves you onto your back, leaving a trail of soft kisses down your cheekbone to your lips. "They didn't hurt you?"

"No, I'm okay, Joongie," you smile beneath his lips, eyes blurry and gleaming with your submission. So deep in your subspace that you'd do anything and everything he asks of you. And all he asks is —

"Will you let me show you how much I love you?"

You nod, of course you do; spreading your legs so he can lay between them. Both of you completely nude, he hugs you close and melds your bodies together.

"I'm so proud of you, pretty," he groans into your ear as he slides his cock into you. Your sore walls clenching and twitching to say 'no more' but you only sigh softly and melt under him, holding him tightly as he sets a slow and loving pace.

"You are my perfect little fleshlight, aren't you? Take so much for me, make me feel so good — make my friends feel so good. Shhh, shhh~ No tears, angel," he kisses them up before you even notice them falling, shushing you softly.

You feel vulnerable and exposed after it all, and at the very same time you feel completely safe in his arms. "H-hold me tighter, please?"

"Of course," he quickly complies, squeezing you in his arms. "I got you, my sweet girl," he leaves one more kiss on your teary cheek before pressing his forehead against yours, noticing your eyes flicking around. "Hey, focus on me- there you go~ There's my pretty baby~"

You breathe heavy against his lips, eyes locked on his as he continues his slow thrusts, "f-feels good?"

"Feels so fucking good, love," he assures you immediately, "nothing in the world compares to my girl." He smiles as you do, giggling breathlessly as he plants another round of kisses across your face.

"Can you- fuck," you lose your train of thought as quickly as it comes, hips twitching under his as you whine.

"Slow, baby," he hums, kissing his way down your neck and sucking softly. "Tell me what you want, take your time."

"Can you please cum inside of me?" You plead, almost pathetic in the way you tear up at the thought of him saying no.

"Of course, I can- that gonna make you happy?" He hugs you tighter as your back arches, squeezing your chest to his.

"So happy," you gasp, fingers wrapping up in his hair to ground yourself.

"Don't worry, love, I'll give it to you," he chuckles quietly before latching onto your neck and sucking hard enough to leave a mark; something nobody else will do to you — not on his watch.

"Cumming, cumming!" You wail as it creeps up on you and blankets your entire being, smothering you in pleasure so hot and intense that you're full on sobbing by the time you come back to your body.

He groans deeply from the tight grip you have on his hair; the one you don't even notice, thrusting a few more times to fuck his cum into you before he all but collapses. He rolls to his side, dragging you along with him and immediately tucking your head under his chin to cradle you to his chest.

"Shhhh, you're okay," he hums, holding you tightly and moving slowly to drape a leg over your hip; pulling you even closer. "Pretty girl."

He's more than happy to keep sharing, keep showing you off — but nobody gets to see you like this.

So soft and vulnerable, so fragile as he holds you through your sobs.

"My pretty girl."

─..puff.puff.pass.─────

[airaviity]

최산 ───〃LET"S MAKE TONIGHT YOUR BIRTHDAY

“does it feel good? am-am i doing good,” he asks, his thumb circling your clit as he looks at you with his half-lidded, nothing but desire shining in them. he wants to hear you say it, he needs to know how good he is making you feel."

── synopsis : it’s your birthday and your tipsy, jealous boyfriend san has been patiently (impatiently) waiting to give you your gift all night … your touchy best friend breaks that patience.

⋆˚꩜｡ pairing: sub!san x dom!reader ⋆˚꩜｡ genre & word count: smut || 3k+ ⋆˚꩜｡ tags: sub!san, oral (f.receiving), begging, unprotected sex (wrap up.ᐟ), praise, tipsy san, breeding kink, needy san, kind of possessive san, jealous, wooyoung cameo!!, he just wants to please you ⋆˚꩜｡ a/n: not even sure if i like this plus i didn't proofread it, but fuck it we ball !! hopefully atleast one person like it though :b

san was not jealous.

i mean sure his skin was pretty hot and prickly, and his muscles were tense. he was clenching his jaw and his fingers gripped tight around the cup of alcohol he’s sipping on. but he wasn't jealous, far from it actually.

he currently resided in the kitchen, where he was leaned up against the counter at your birthday party, attempting and failing to not send daggers in your direction. or, more to the people around you.

not like you would notice anyway … too distracted by said people. engaging in multiple conversations and accepting countless gifts from where you sat on the couch.

he was enamored by how good you looked, smiling brightly, eyes crinkling in the corners, your laugh echoing sweetly in his ears. it just wasn’t fair that everyone else got to see and hear it. he wanted that part of you all to himself. wanted you to be smiling at him like how you were smiling at them.

he’s been trying all night to get just a minute with you, brushed aside by your friends before he could even get the chance to speak. you would mumble a quick “sorry” with a grimace every time someone new whisked you away from him.

that’s when san decided to stumble his way into the kitchen with a frustrated huff and pour himself a drink…or two, who’s counting? is it a crime to want to spend time with your girlfriend on her birthday?

at the same time there was nothing more san wanted then for you to be happy. alongside the growing envy, he was genuinely pleased that you were enjoying the event he partook in planning. maybe he was just being a little selfish…

“ahh, what am i thinking?” he mumbles to himself, rubbing the bridge of his nose and earning a sideways glance from someone who walked into the kitchen for a drink. he clears his throat before chugging down the rest of the alcohol in his cup.

he can feel the effects of the alcoholic drink, his skin getting warmer, his limbs feel tingly, his balance is off as he stumbles from where he stands. he crosses his arms over his chest and leans his head back, closing his eyes to rest them a bit, just to collect himself.

“woo? holy shit, you’re here!” san hears you shriek from the other room. his eyes peek open and he turns his head to see you jump into some guys arms, presumably the one you called woo.

san’s eyebrows raise at that, his eyes gravitating towards the arms that were wrapped tightly around your waist and the hands that were gently caressing your back in small circles. he can't fight the way that his teeth grind together at that, his eyes narrowing into slits.

“a little late, but yes i’m here,” he replies when he pulls back with a bright smile and shifts his hands on your shoulders as you launch into a conversation with him.

san looks away with a pout and stares blankly at the floor in front of him, his foot tapping restlessly against it. woo? you never mentioned an woo to him, not to his knowledge atleast. he wracks through his muddled brain, pouring himself another cup and tries to recall a conversation where you mentioned anybody with that name, finding none.

sucking his teeth, he pushes himself off the counter, drinking sloshing and some droplets spilling onto his hand. he’s ready to walk over to you and ask about this guy that suddenly showed up to your party, but he freezes when he makes it to the living room.

you and wooyoung weren’t standing anymore, instead you were both sat on the couch, laughing about something he couldn’t hear over the music. san can feel his eye twitch and his fingers flex around the cup in his hand.

wooyoung was practically in your lap, well not really, but that’s what san’s drunken mind made it out to be. one leg draped over you and his arms wrapped around your shoulders, grinning and whispering into your ear and making you laugh loudly.

it was getting on his nerves watching the way you and him were interacting. he doesn’t like it. it should be him there instead. how come he gets to be so close to you, when he hasn’t even gotten a second with you all night?

he was frozen in place, tense and taking a swig every time he would get a little too close, a distraction, the alcohol starting to catch up to him. but the lingering touches were ticking him off. wooyoung’s hand landing on your thigh and running it along the smooth skin was his last straw.

he couldn’t take it anymore, downing the rest of his drink before making his way over to you. and if he almost tripped twice on the way there, what about it?

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

you were startled when your boyfriend suddenly appeared in front of you. having not seeing him the whole night, you were kind of glad that he was here now. you couldn’t get a good look at his face in the dimly-lit living room, but you knew it was san by his voice.

“can i talk to you,” he huffed, his body was swaying as he clumsily thrusted a hand out for you take. you lean back, his hand way too close to your face.

you take his hand, rubbing a finger over his knuckles, “yes, but there’s someone i want you to meet.” you smile and look over to wooyoung. san hasn’t meet woo, your best-friend that was always busy with his career, always traveling. this is the first time you’ve seen him in months and you were excited to introduce the two, you figured they would get along well.

“san, this is wooyoung my be-” you start, gesturing between the two. san's eyes travel over to him, your sentence lost to deaf ears as he watches wooyoung rub your shoulder, cheesing, and his jaw tightens in frustration.

“i just-” san breathes with a hiccup, tilting his head back to contain himself before continuing. “i just want to talk to you, please.” he whispers the last word and squeezes your hand.

“o-okay,” cocking your head in confusion. was something wrong? is he feeling sick? you part from wooyoung and stand to go with your boyfriend. and san doesn’t miss the way wooyoung’s hands drop from your shoulder and drags down your waist as you go. “be right back woo.” you say with a smile and allow your boyfriend to take you away.

san brings you upstairs and down the hall to your shared room, closing and locking the door behind you both. he leans his back and head against the door, dizzy from the drinks and fast movements. he’s not sure how he even made it here without completely falling, he only tripped once.

“san, you alright…” you question, taking a tentative step towards him and placing a hand on his shoulder. he’s skin is warm, hot almost, you could feel it through the shirt he was wearing. maybe he was feeling sick...

he slowly nods, a mistake as the alcohol is setting in and even that made him a little unstable. you rush forward to catch san before he could trip over himself, his hands landing on your waist and head dropping to rest against your chest.

you gently lift his head up by his chin, taking in his disheveled state. in the lamp light you notice that his cheeks are tinged pink, a slight shine to his forehead from sweat, and the smell of alcohol was strong on his breath as he pants, his breath fanning across your face.

“are you drunk?” you ask, resting your hand against his cheek. he immediately nuzzles into, sighing at the cool touch. he looks up at you, eyes glossy and unfocused.

he ignores your question, his gaze dropping to your lips. he leans in, presumably to kiss you. but before your mouths could touch, you lean your head back and earn a little groan from san who starts to pout.

“i asked if you are drunk.”

“only a little bit tipsy,” he hurriedly mumbles as he hiccups, leaning in to kiss you again only to be denied. this time by you placing a finger against his wet mouth. “fuck, why~” he whines impatiently, fingers drumming against your waist.

“you said you wanted to talk to me, not kiss me,” you remind him of the reason why we’re here, with a giggle. san puffs in annoyance. he didn’t actually have anything to say, just wanted to finally be alone with you. “you dragged me away from my conversation with woo-“

you’re cut off by san rushing in to press his lips against yours. nibbling and licking at your bottom lip, taking control of the kiss. he doesn’t want to hear that name right now. doesn’t care about what you and him were talking about, he just wants you to focus on him.

you part your mouth, deepening it as you lick into san’s mouth. he moans into it and his knees buckle a bit, his grip on you tight to keep himself upright.

“this is what i wanted to talk about,” he breaths out when he pulls back for air, a string of saliva connecting you two. “your birthday gift.”

it’s true. san did have a gift for you, he’s been waiting all night for everyone to leave so he can give it to you. quite literally. but if this is what it took for you to forget about everyone else, forget about woo, and just give him all your attention then…

“i’m confused…” you slowly say, furrowing your brows and searching san’s face for some kind of answer. there was a lot of physical activity going on for him to be talking about a gift.

“can i show you it,” he leads you to the bed, and instructs you to get on it and you follow his instruction, curious. “i was going to wait until after the party, but i’m a bit impatient now…” he says, a whiny tone in his voice.

“san- what exactly is this ‘gift’?”

he once again ignores you, climbing on the bed and crawling towards you, hovering over you. it forces you to lean back, your head gently hitting the mattress as san looks down at you with his flushed face. his hand instantly roaming your body, up your thighs, to your waist, and under your shirt to cup a breast.

your eyes can’t help but to flutter at that, your breathing picking up slightly as you watch san’s movements. he moves in to kiss you, not holding back this time and shoves his tongue into your mouth. he whines as your tongues swirl together.

“san,” you whisper into his mouth. he pays you no mind, trying to get as much of you as he can, hoping to distract you enough. “sannie, as much as i’m enjoying this… there is a party going on downstairs and wooyoung-”

san grumbles at that, that name that you just can’t seem to stop saying. he sucks his teeth and leans back to sit up, a little too fast, his hands landing on your thighs as he wobbles.

“woo, woo, woo,” he mumbles, dropping his head down and shaking it from side to side. you rise up on your elbows to look at your boyfriend. “when are you going to pay attention to me, huh?”

“i’ve been wanting to talk to you all night. been waiting to have just a second with you. just a little conversation, a kiss, a hug, a smile, a laugh. anything, but you’ve been giving it all to everyone else. i want that too. i’m your boyfriend.” he rambles, shakily pointing a finger at himself.

you have to press a hand to your mouth to keep from laughing. he was just too cute, all pouty and angry, his cheeks dusted red. you’ve never seen this side of him before. sure, you’ve gotten drunk with him, he usually gets all quiet, often staying to himself. but this was different…

“then someone else comes in, woo, and you’re all over him. what about me? laugh with me, talk to me, let me cling to you like that, i can-” he continues and you shut him up before he can rant on for hours, leaning up to press a chaste kiss to his cheek.

“sounds like your jealous,” you giggle as san lifts his head to look at you. his eyes flitter around your face, avoiding eye-contact with you, his face burning hotter.

“j-jealous, why would i be jealous?” he defensively says.

“you already answered your own question when you were rambling,” you whisper, wrapping a hand around his neck and fisting your hand into the hair on his nape, pulling him in for another kiss.

the make-out is all saliva and messy as san gasps, caught by surprise at the sudden attack on his lips. he lets you take the lead, losing himself in you. he wraps his arms around your waist from where he sat in your lap, drawing his body closer to yours.

his hips twitch against you when you bite his bottom lip, his hard cock dragging against your stomach and making san draw out a whimper.

“uhn,” he breathily moans when he grinds himself against you again. his head tilting back as he gets lost in the pleasure of the friction on his cock. you take advantage and leave little nibbles and pecks on his warm neck.

“can- can i still give you your gift, please?” he sighs, his hands skimming along your arms. the way he pleads, sends a trail of goosebumps along your skin where he touches.

you nod your head, your party forgotten about as the man in front of you starts to trail kisses down your body. he thumbs at your shirt, peeking at you, a silent ask. you take it upon yourself, stripping off your shirt.

san heavily breaths before leaning in and taking a tit into his mouth, whirling around his tongue on your nipple, making your back arch into him. he attends to both, switching between the two and leaving a few hickeys behind.

he moves down, kissing along your stomach and waist. he looks up at you when he makes it to the band of your skirt and with a playful smirk, dips his head under it and drags your underwear down your legs with his teeth.

he goes back down, burying his face into your cunt. it’s wet and messy and exactly what san wanted. he whimpers as he licks, lapping up at your juices, his nose pressing against your clit.

“sannie,” you breath, carding your fingers through his hair and tugging at some of the strands, pulling him impossibly closer to you.

san’s hip twitch against the bed, grinding down against the sheets. just him being able to taste you, turns him on. being able to please you, make you feel good, better than anyone else.

“does it feel good? am-am i doing good,” he asks, his thumb circling your clit as he looks at you with his half-lidded eyes, nothing but desire shining in them. he wants to hear you say it, he needs to know how good he is making you feel.

“so good, you’re doing so good,” you sigh, tossing your head back when san licks a strip from your entrance up to your clit.

he moans at your approval, his cock twitching where it was trapped between his pants and the bed, his body trembling as he gets close to cumming. he just wants to stay here, burying his tongue in you, he doesn’t care how messy it gets.

“fuck,” you gasp, grinding your hips against san’s face as you cum.

san whimpers, cumming untouched in his pants. he spills all over the bed, pushing his hips against the mattress as he licks up your mess, drinking you up like he did the alcohol.

once you come down, you let go of his hair and pull him up towards you. licking into his mouth to taste yourself on his tongue. you reach a hand down to his pants, hoping to return the favor and get met with a huge sticky spot there instead.

“did you…” you start, looking at san who had a sheepish look on his face. turning his to the side and clearing his throat in embarrassment.

“i-i can go again,” he whispers, removing his bottoms and stroking himself to hardness again. record speed. “i want to be inside you, please…”

he spreads your legs apart, placing himself there. he grabs onto your hips and slides his hot cock between your folds. he moans, his body shivering at the intense pleasure from just cumming.

“please, please let me put it in,” he pleads, stuttering out a moan when his tip catches on your entrance. he’s tempted to push in, but he won’t not until you say he can. “i’ll make you feel good, i- i promise.”

you don’t respond, wrapping your legs around him, you push him forward and into your wet heat.

“mm, fuck,” he loudly moans. it would’ve been too loud if not for the music blaring downstairs. even then, with how tipsy he was, he wouldn’t care if anyone heard.

he deeply rocks his hips into you, each thrust hitting just the right spot. punching short ‘ah’s’ from you.

“so good, only i can have this…” he babbles. his thrusts getting rougher, slamming his cock into you as he recalls the events from earlier.

“nobody else can see you like this, n-no one else can make you feel good…” he whines, his hold on your hips almost bruising as he pounds into you.

he feels drunk off of this. him feeling how you clench around him, how wet and warm it is. he needs more, he wants more, wants you to know that only he can do this to you.

“s-sannie,” you stutter as you can’t keep up with his pace. “s-slow down…” you moan, bringing your arms up to wrap around waist and bringing him closer to you.

of course he doesn’t slow down, it almost feels like he speeds up.

“so pretty, so tight…” he moans into your ear, his pace unrelenting as he fucks you. “wanna cum inside - i’ve been wanting it all night, i just - fuck. please let me.”

you pull him back to be face to face, his eyes closed and he doesn’t open them until you coo, “you want it that bad?”

he almost looks ravenous, his was so gone, drunk off you.

“yes, wanna cum inside,” he babbles, his voice raspy from all the moaning. “wanna fill you up, make you mine, please-“

“yeah?”

he nods his head wildly, “fuck yes, please~ i’ll be good, so good. i promise, if you just let me cum inside - let me own it.”

you lean in to whisper in his ear, “show me that you do,”

san’s breath hitches, a strangled moan stuck in his throat as his eyes roll back. one last thrust is all he had before he came deep inside.

“fuck, fuck, fuck…” he whiningly chants, as he fills you with rope after rope of cum. his breath hot against your neck that he was buried in.

you caress his back with one hand and his sweat-soaked hair with the other as he rides out his orgasm. weakly thrusting into you until he can’t from the sensitivity.

he pulls out with a hiss, rolling onto his back, feeling a different kind of heat and tingle in his body, one not from the alcohol.

you roll over to rest on his chest, tracing circles along his stomach.

“that was quite the birthday gift,” you laugh, with an exaggerated sigh. “you’re pretty cute when you’re jealous.”

“‘m not jea-“ he starts before getting interrupted by a knock at the bedroom door.

“hey um, i just wanted to say happy birthday again before heading out,” i voice shouts from the other side. “and it was nice to briefly meet you san, i hope we can talk more next time.” then there were footsteps.

san rolls his eyes after the second sentence, becoming aware of who was outside the door. his chest heaving and a tiny pout was on his lips.

you look at him with raised eyebrows and a knowing smile.

“i’m not jealous!” he shouts, a blush blooming on his face.

©lucidwntrr est. 2025

[airaviity]

hard hours 003:

WooSan making you tap out

RATED XXXX. MATURE AUDIENCES ONLY.

❥Choi San x Jung Wooyoung x fem reader

➯a/n: i think my meditation needs to be adjusted 🥴 this started as a drabble but i just want the teezers to be mean to me so bad...

(>ᴗ•)genre: literal filth like so bad

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: not proof read, poly relationship, hard doms woosan / sub reader, such intense bdsm it almost borders cnc, orgasm control: edging / INTENSE clit overstimulation / asking permission, use of a vibrator, HARD degradation, regular slapping and thigh + pussy slapping, spit, choking, manhandling, dacryphilia, mxm: kissing and jerking, neck and ear kisses and bites, dvp, squirting, talk of anal, use of a safe word / tapping out and then super sweet praise and reassurance, name calling(including but not limited to): stupid, slut, cock sleeve, fucker, bitch, pet names: pretty girl, baby, angel, sweetheart. aftercare <33

₊‧⁺stardust˖⋆ @sunnysidesins @onyxmango @devilzliaison @ateezswonderland @queenofdumbfuckery @emilysecresy @kyomiingi @pansexual-and-eating-pancakes @klllerwaifu @seonghwasslytherin @yoonglesbae @wolviejex @estrnrea @lover-ofallthingspretty @willowwyy @jaerisdiction @peelingpaint-heavyheart

♡masterlist + navigation !♡

18+.MINORS GET LOST.

─..★.─────

In your relationship, things are usually the same from day to day in how you treat each other.

That is not the case in the bedroom.

Your dynamics shift everytime you have sex, and sometimes even during the middle of it. It's always a surprise.

Today, both of your boyfriends happen to be dominant; and their treatment of you from the very moment they walked in the door made you fall head first into sub-space.

When San is dominant, he likes to tease — but not to the degree with which Wooyoung does.

San is soft about it. Slow thrusts and gentle touches.

Wooyoung is a jerk about it. Works you up fast and pulls away just before you can cum — but sometimes he doesn't pull away and he practically slaps you in the face with an orgasm.

Both of them, though, not only do they work in a perfect harmony to make you drip so much arousal that you ruin whoever's sheets you happen to be on — they decide when you cum.

You must ask for permission. And if you don't, you will regret it in the most beautiful and torturous ways.

San told you not to cum again after you failed to ask for permission the first time today.

But Wooyoung persisted in being a menace. He wants you to slip up again and cum, whispering all kinds of filth in your ear as he lays behind you. One hand over your chest, holding your back against his chest as he slides the vibrator up and down on your sensitive clit.

He wants to punish you. He's had a shitty week, they both have. And he wants to be mean. But you have to give them a reason first.

You only get one mistake. You can only slip up once before punishment is deemed 'fair'.

And you try. You try so hard to keep being a good girl. But Wooyoung tilts your head and kisses you, shoves his tongue in your mouth just as he starts moving the toy in slow circles against you. You can't ask for permission if you can't talk at all.

You cum. And it feels like heaven, but you know the hell that will follow when San — who had been grinding deep and slow in your gushing pussy; stops.

He laughs, head dropping to rest on your shoulder as Wooyoung pulls back with a smirk. "Did you just do what I think you did, pretty girl?"

"I'm sorry!" The waterworks are immediate, but they don't care. You're so cute when you try to get out of trouble — but it makes them want to ruin you even more when they're like this.

"Are you stupid?" Wooyoung asks with a wild grin, eyes dark. "Huh?" He grips your chin tightly when you don't answer fast enough; even though he only gives you a split second. "Say something, dumbass. Or did you forget how to speak, and that's why you just came all over Sannies cock without permission... again?"

"I'm sorry, baby-" You yelp as he suddenly moves out from behind you and pushes you flat against the mattress, dropping the vibrator to wrap both his hands around your neck.

San has just as evil a smile as he sits up and watches, grinding into you as he does so and making you squeal. When your eyes slam shut, he reaches up and slaps you. "Keep your fucking eyes open."

"M'sor-"

"Sorry doesn't quite cut it," Wooyoung turns and faces him, his voice laced with mischief, "does it, San?"

"No, I don't think it does," he pouts, mockingly, meeting your teary gaze, "I think if our girl acts like a slut, that's exactly the way we should treat her."

"San, wait, Sannie, San-ahhh!" You scream as he picks up the toy and presses it against your clit; not caring about the fact that it makes tears slip down your cheeks. In fact — he likes it. They both do. "Mercy! Mercy, ple-"

Wooyoung chokes the words right out of your neck, spitting into your open mouth as you grab his wrists. "Shut the fuck up before I shove my dick in your throat. Won't be able to beg then, will you?"

You bite your lip with a broken groan, swallowing his spit without hardly even registering he spat in your mouth in the first place because San is now moving again — and he's not being gentle about it.

He slams his hips so hard into you that it makes your body slide up the mattress. You nearly bump your head against the wall before Wooyoung puts his hand on the top of your head quickly and cushions it. All of your noises are coming out no matter how hard you press your lips together.

Sniffling, moaning, whining, and being fucked so hard it's literally shaking your body.

San groans deeply, pulling out all too quickly and making you hiss. "Running from it, angel? Hm? Get your pretty ass over here." He yanks you to the middle of the bed before you can even think about moving on your own. "You want to cum like a slut, I'm going to fuck you like a slut. Wooyoung, get over here and hold this bitch down."

"Oh, with pleasure~"

You groan as Wooyoung sits on your stomach, facing away from you and taking control of the vibrator once again as San grips both of your thighs and slams into you. You scream out a curse, grabbing the waistband of Wooyoung's boxers tightly as they start bombarding you with pleasure that's all too intense.

"What's wrong, baby?" San's voice drips with mock empathy, "I thought you wanted to cum so bad? We're just giving you what you wanted." he slaps your thigh, rough. "Say thank you."

"Thank you, Sannie! Please! Please, slow down!" You stutter and slur as you writhe uselessly below them.

Wooyoung tuts his tongue, upping the speed of the vibrator and causing you to kick your legs in Sans grasp to no avail. "I'm the one who made you cum, you dumb cock sleeve. Should be thanking me."

They share a smirk as you immediately start thanking the both of them while simultaneously begging for mercy. Because in all of your jumbled and sniffled words, they don't hear your safe word.

They will make you use it before they quit. Pushing stupid sluts like you to their limit is the only way they learn, Wooyoung likes to say as though he isn't a million times brattier when he's subbing. But then, maybe that's how he knows.

"She's so fucking cute like this," San chuckles as you clench and flutter around his pistoning cock, "good job, Young." He leans and catches his lips in a kiss, soft in comparison to the way he beats up your cunt.

And they don't stop when you cum once again, squealing and trying to arch under Wooyoung's weight while your eyes roll back. "Ffffuck!" Is all you can say as you slump, not given a single moment to rest before they're building you up all over again.

"Three times?" Wooyoung giggles against San's lips, "our girlfriend really is a cum junkie~" He yanks at his boxers, impatiently pulling them under his cock. He's just as much as you are, is evident.

"You're s-so meaaan," you say through your heavy breaths, hands sliding around the bed to find something to grab onto. You pull the pillow you grab to your chest and bury your face in it; soaking it with your tears.

"Shut up," they say together, sharing another grin.

San let's go of one of your legs and it drops to the side, useless and trembling. He wraps his hand around Wooyoung's length, spitting on it before he starts jerking him off quickly.

"Fuck, Sannie~" He tilts his head back, pressing the toy against your clit harsher to feel you shiver below him. "You might make me cum before I even have a chance to fuck her..."

He looks down slowly and meets San's gaze, a silent idea spoken between them.

Wooyoung rolls off of you quickly, all but flopping onto his back. He fists his cock roughly; watching as San pulls out of you roughly and starts spanking your ruined cunt.

"San!" The way your body jolts with each quick, precise hit makes their cocks twitch.

He spits right onto your swollen clit, slapping it even harder than before as he moans, "look at that sloppy pussy. So wet... I bet both of us could fuck you right now."

They both laugh as you peek your eyes over the edge of the pillow that you clutch to your chest, wide and blurry with tears.

"Yeah, you heard me," San says lowly, swiping his fingers against your clit so fast that it makes sloshing noises, "this wet little cock sleeve is going to take two at once. Gonna let us slip right in~"

"Give me this," Wooyoung growls as he yanks the pillow away from you, throwing it, "you don't get to hide from us."

San lifts you up before you can even pout and drops you on top of Wooyoung, who immediately fucks right into you; knocking the air from your burning lungs. "Fuuuck, I dunno, San... This bitch is still tight even when you've been fucking her." He puts his legs over yours and spreads them wide, pinning them to the bed. His hands find your breasts, squeezing and pinching and kneading and making you wail.

"We'll just make it fit."

When San lines his tip up with your stretched hole, you shake your head quickly, "please, please, I swear I won't cum again! Be gent- ah, fuck!" And he pounds right into you, stilling balls deep with Wooyoung. You convulse between them, another orgasm breaking over you and making you sob breathlessly.

"Shhh," you hardly hear Wooyoung as he coos into your ear, kissing at it softly, "there you go~" He slides his hand down your torso before landing on your lower stomach and pressing down, making you all moan. "Mmh~ This is how a cock sleeve should be treated, yeah? All stretched out- fuck-" He curses as you clench around them, causing San to grip your waist tightly. "Fuck, fuck," he whines a bit, thrusting into you with a merciless and hurried pace, "fuck her with me, Sannie. I want to feel her cum around us, she gets so tight~"

San complies, immediately; fucking you in tandem with him, moaning and groaning as he buries his face in your neck. Every time he nips at your heated flesh, he earns himself a whimper from you. And Wooyoung biting at your ear lobe gets just the same.

"One more," he whispers into your neck, kissing up slowly, "one more, let us feel it. Be a good girl. Give our Wooyoungie what he wants~" He tilts his head as he observes your tear streaked face before leaning forward and licking a fat strip up your cheek; making you slap at his shoulders.

"God, yes!" He yells, wrapping his arms around your waist tightly as San holds it. "Better cum for me, you fucker," he bites your neck, harder than San ever does. He licks the angry skin before he says again, "you'll cream on our cocks if you know what's good for you, slut. I'll stick it in your ass if you don't give me what I want, you know I will, angel."

"I c-can't!" You whimper, holding Sans shoulders tightly.

Everytime Wooyoung fucks up into you, San fucks you right back down. You can hardly breathe. Just when you're about to use your safe word, catching your breath to do so, Wooyoung slips a hand down your stomach softly and grazes his finger tips over your clit.

"Like hell you can't," you can't hear a word he's saying as he pinches your clit — and even though he does it semi-gently, because he knows how ruined you are, it makes you scream. "You're going to cum like the slut you are or I really am going to fuck your pretty little ass."

He almost hopes you don't; but of course you do. How can you not? Both of them stretching and prodding every inch of your insides, Wooyoung pinching your clit, San kissing and licking up your tears.

Your legs tremble under his, your hips jolting in between them, your jaw dropped in a silent scream that's more of a shattered gasp than anything else as you squirt all over them.

San cums first, and the warmth of it flooding your abused walls makes Wooyoung follow.

San holds himself up on slightly shaky arms, eyes closed as he presses his forehead against yours. Wooyoung moves to keep going when they both catch you whimpering out quickly, "tap out."

San opens his eyes quickly, meeting your gaze with a smile, "good girl~" And he kisses you gently, pecks your lips repeatedly. "You're so amazing, angel, you can take so much~"

Wooyoung wraps his arms back around your waist, hugging you gently as he slowly moves his legs off of yours. "Take your punishments so well- doesn't she, Sannie?" He hums contentedly as he nuzzles your shoulder from behind.

"So well~" He agrees, very slowly pulling out and shushing you softly as you whine. "Shhh, it's okay, I know... We were so rough with our pretty girl," he sits back, lifting your hips softly to help Wooyoung slide out of you. "But we're done now, promise."

You hardly have the wits about you to stutter out a softly spoken 'thank you'.

Their cum drips out of you slowly and puddles on Wooyoung's pelvis, making you shiver and melt further into his hold.

"You got her, Young?" San asks as he places a kiss to your quivering thigh.

"Mhm," he hums softly, tracing on your ribs softly, "I've got our perfect girl, but don't be too long. You want to cuddle, don't you, baby?"

It takes you a second to realize he's talking to you, and you nod at San quickly, "yeah, hurry, please."

"I'll be quick," he smiles, leaning over and placing another kiss on your lips before he slides off the bed and hurries to the bathroom.

Wooyoung holds you close to his chest, still rubbing his head against your shoulder softly like a pleased house cat. "You're such a good girl for us, you know that? Our perfect girl~"

You moan softly, lifting your shaky arms to rest over his. "You aren't mad?" You know they aren't, but you still want to make extra sure. You feel so light headed and vulnerable; and he eases all of your worries before they can fester.

"Why would we be mad? Of course not, angel. We like it when we make you tap out~"

"Hm," you giggle, whispering, "freaks."

"What's that, baby? You dooo want me to put it in your ass?" He teases you right back, kissing your shoulder as you laugh breathlessly.

San comes back, climbing back between your legs with a soft grin, "feeling good, sweetheart?" He gently cleans up your sore cunt as you nod with a dopey smile.

"Always perfect with you two."

─..003.tap out.─────

[airaviity]

hihiii sooo 'should i?' is my favourite of your au's can i please request for hongjoong with 219, 203, 207, and please please 214!!!! maybe filming a cnc video.... god i'm drooling just thinking about it

➯a/n: i'm gonna faint 🫠 hongjoong is my bias and "Should I?" hongjoong is like hdvsjejabdeo anywho- ENJOY, I WENT OVERBOARD ! WHOS SURPRISED ? NO ONE LMAOOO

Cash, Grass, or Ass? (Nobody Rides For Free)

Should I?: Part Four

❥Kim Hongjoong x fem reader

❥K.H. x J.Y. x S.M. x fem reader

207 + 214: bondage/restraint + cnc

✈︎queued for: tues 3rd

(>ᴗ•)genre: smut, amateur p0rn⭐️ au

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: not proof read ( sorry, i'm impatient ), 219 dacryphilia, filming, roleplaying as strangers, reader wears "girly-girl" clothes, 207 bondage/restraint: with rope, mean rough nasty dom joong, 203 praise + degradation double whhhhammy !!, finger sucking, safe word in place but not used, getting into subspace, dumbification, a few hair pulls, stocking / sock kink, squirting, choking ( with hands + cock ), knife play ( omg i never wrote for this before but 🫣 ), road head + rough blow job: face fucking / head pushing / gagging / messy, spit, cock warming via mouth (?), a few slaps, messy cunnilingus, 'forced' orgasms, creampie, aftercare, 214 cnc: reader cries, struggles, begs, 'stop' & joong forces, mocks, threatens but everything is previously agreed upon !! this is depicting roleplay ! name calling including: stupid, girl, slut, brat / sicko, pervert. pet names including: little siren ( still have not moved on tbh ), princess, sweetheart / sir, captain

➯cnc disclaimer: CONSENT IS SEXY. all parties are and always will be consenting in my stories. cnc is a way to explore power dynamics and it's attractive to many people, it does not "promote s/a", the first c is CONSENSUAL. you should only ever do it with someone who you trust. be safe and stay freaky !!

♡masterlist + tag form !♡

₊‧⁺stardust˖⋆ @everyonewooeverywhere @willowwyy @sousydive @sunnysidesins @onyxmango @devilzliaison @ateezswonderland @queenofdumbfuckery @emilysecresy

➯a/n2: little treat for an idea i have for another chapter at the end kkkkk

18+.MINORS GET LOST.

━༻❁༺━

"Need a ride?"

Hongjoong's voice makes your heart flutter.

Six and a half months after you first met in person; you find yourself in the middle of nowhere on a seemingly never ending desolate road in the countryside, his car pulling up next to you.

It's far from the first time you've ever been alone with him. But something feels different. Knowing what's in store is making you flustered — more so than usual.

Hongjoong was so excited that he fell out of his seat when you said you wanted to role-play a non-con scene with him; crawling on his knees to you and putting his hands in a prayer stance as he eagerly accepted.

You, Mingi, and Yunho had made a few videos like that before you even met. And all of them are still, to this very day, in his liked videos. His favorite has to be the one where Yunho was 'teaching' Mingi how to fuck — using you, all tied up and crying, as a demonstration doll. He fantasized about tying you up himself, probably one too many times to be sane, as he recorded his own videos.

In your liked videos, along with the one where he fucks a fleshlight so hard that he breaks it, is one of him talking about how he wants to tie up a pretty girl and make her choke on his cock. Not knowing that he was talking about you until he admitted it a few months ago. He wanted to do the same to Mingi, to 'see his little puppy dog eyes while he tries to get away'.

But — you were first. You knew, generally, what to expect. All of you are very open about what is and isn't on the table, and you all respect each other's boundaries. What you didn't know, is just how much it would make your heart thud while pretending that Hongjoong is a stranger.

In your mini-skirt, you saunter over to his car. Folding your arms on the lowered window, you lean down; giving him a good look down your loose tank top. Showing off your lacy bra.

He's already hard. The idea of what's about to happen had him hard the second he woke up — knowing that today's the day. Yunho had given him a blowjob to take some of the edge off, but it's already back. And the cute little outfit he had yet to see was making his hands twitch. Wanting to grab at you and get the show on the road.

"Yeah, my boyfriend dumped me on the side of the road." Which, technically, isn't a lie. Mingi had drove you out and gave you a kiss and a smirk, telling you to 'have fun'.

"Sounds like he's an idiot." He reaches over and pops the door open for you, "leaving such a pretty girl."

When you open up the door, his member twitches in his pants. He had seen it from afar, but up close was always something different. Your long socks. White and lacy, just like your bra.

The camera on the dash catches his smirk as he eyes you while you settle yourself in the passenger seat.

Oh. You think as you look over at him, he's going to fuck me up so good.

"So," he leans forward a bit, and you have to remind yourself to lean back.

"Cash, grass, or ass?"

"...what?"

"Which one are you going to pay me with?" He reaches over and touches your hair, in a way that could be described as affectionately — if not for the burning lust in his eyes. "Don't you know? Nobody rides for free."

"I don't have anything- I- I left my purse in the car."

"Ass it is."

He had locked the doors before you even had a chance to try and grab the handle.

"What the fuck, dude?" You pause as you turn back to face him, coming face to face with the pocket knife that he brandishes at you nonchalantly. He raises his eyebrow, smirk planted firmly on his lips.

"Ass it is?" He asks, tracing the flat of the blade on your jaw. "I'd hate to ruin such a pretty face."

God, he should be an actor. You think, gulping as he trails the knife down slowly. He would never hurt you. But the fact that he could...

You know he's going to mock you for how wet your panties are becoming.

"Ass it is."

"Smart choice, sweetheart," he places the knife on his thigh, holding it there as a 'reminder' as he starts driving. "Come suck my cock."

You almost choke on your saliva. He's always blunt and direct with his orders, but the edge in his voice is extra sultry today. "If you make me cum before we stop, I'll let ya' go. Deal?" You have to hold yourself back from jumping his bones.

"You will?"

"You have my word." Both of you know that even if he cums, you aren't going anywhere.

You take a steadying breath, sliding into the middle seat. "You're a damn sicko." You mumble with a small smile, trying to hide it as you unbutton his pants.

"And you're a stupid little girl." He catches the way your thighs press together in his peripheral vision, his tongue instinctively wetting his lips — wanting to have a taste. "Didn't your Daddy ever tell you not to trust strangers?"

"Fuck you-"

"Mh~ Feisty," he grabs you by the back of your head and shoves your face into his lap, "I like that. Let's see what else that mouth can do."

With a small groan, you unzip his jeans. "C'mon, princess~ Hurry up, before I pull over and fuck you in the middle of the road." While you would love that, you'll save it for another day. You pull down the elastic band on his boxers, his girth all but springing out; slapping you on the cheek and making you both moan.

You feign a gasp, trying to pull away and getting shoved right back. His knife is in the same hand that holds your head, the other on the wheel. "Get to work."

The overhead camera watches as you lean down, giving a kitten lick to his head and making him hiss. He grips your head tighter, "you think you're gonna make me cum like that? It's like you want to be fucked."

He almost lets his eyes roll back as you sink down on his pulsing length, bobbing your head quickly over the first inches of it. He pushes you down further, laughing airily when you gag as he keeps you held there.

Your scalp stings as he yanks you back up, letting you gasp for breath for only a few seconds before leading you back down. "Mhm~ Not so mouthy now, huh, brat?" You grab at his jeans, digging your nails in as you breathe through your nose. "Suck."

You muffle a disagreement, making him shiver as the vibrations run through him. "Have it your way, then."

He keeps you there, gagging on his cock for a good few minutes. Spit is soaking his boxers and your jaw is starting to ache by the time he finally stops the car and yanks the keys from the ignition. "Get up," he doesn't give you a chance to act for yourself; pulling you up by the hair and allowing you to suck in some good, deep breaths as you massage your jaw.

"Pretty little brat~" He slaps you, pretty gently based on what you know he's capable of. "I'm gonna have a lot of fun with you..." His eyes scan you for a moment before quickly leaning in and licking up your messy chin.

You turn your moan into a whine, pushing at his chest. "You're so nasty!"

"You don't know the half of it, sweetheart~"

━༻❁༺━

You had paused your scene as he carried you inside the rented cabin, letting him tie up your ankles and wrist without a fight as he asked how you were feeling so far.

And the answer was 'unbelievably horny, hurry up, please'.

He gives you a tender kiss before rubbing his hand down your side while sitting up on the bed next to you. "Give 'em a try, baby." You tug at the rope on your wrist — nothing. "And those?" He looks over his shoulder as you try to pull your ankles apart — again, nothing. "Good."

"Ready?" You ask with a sparkle in your eyes, leaning into his touch as he pets your head.

The camera is already set up next to the bed, recording the soft moment before you get nasty.

"Oh, yeah~" He chuckles, leaning to land another peck to your lips, "you trust me, right?" You nod against his forehead as he places his against yours. "I'm going to be rough- gonna be mean. That doesn't mean I care about you any less. We're just pretending. If at any point you forget that, do you remember your safe word?"

"Pause."

"And if you can't speak?"

"Two hits."

"That's a good girl~" His hand slides down from your jaw, giving your binds a tug before continuing downward. "Action."

At his word, you snap back into your role; fidgeting below him while he shoves his hand between your thighs and cups your heat through your panties. Like a flipped switch, you're both back into the scene in a millisecond flat.

He all but jumps on top of you, crushing your legs to the bed with his own as he squeezes your heat. "Damn, you've got a hot little cunt," he groans, free hand slipping between your bound arms as you push at him; landing it at your throat and squeezing that as well. It's his favorite things to do, in any scene — even outside of filming.

Even when it's just you and him, neither of your boyfriends and no cameras, he can't help but put his hands around your neck. To remind you of your place, to remind you that he's got the control. Make you remember that he cares enough about you to cradle your jugular and squeeze it only hard enough so that you see stars in the edges of your vision.

"I can't wait to fuck it raw."

You start fighting harder, twisting and turning your hips, "no, p-please!" You should be an actor, he thinks; smirk wide on his lips as he looks down at you wildly.

"Yes~" He squeezes your neck tighter for a moment before slapping you suddenly, making your head turn to face the camera. "I'm gonna fill up this bratty pussy and teach you a lesson."

You gasp, genuinely, as he grabs the pocket knife from the bedside table and flips up your skirt. He cuts through your panties with zero hesitation, ripping them the rest of the way off. He can see the wet patch on them as he tosses them to the side to be forgotten.

His tongue darts over his lips again. Really, he shouldn't — not for this scene — but he wants to eat you out so badly that his cock is twitching. He tosses the knife onto the floor as he stares down at you.

"I wonder how hard you'll fight me after I make you cum on my tongue."

"Wait, wait, waiiiit~" Your pleads fall off into a breathy moan as his slides down and hugs your thighs, stuffing his tongue into your pressed together pussy lips. "Fuck! You pervert! Stop- please stop!"

His chuckle tickles your wetness, and he shakes his head with his tongue on your clit; giving it a lick as he pulls back. "Nah~"

You bring your wrists to your face, hiding your face as you tear up. It feels so good as he laps at your needy slit. You're so worked up from the role-playing that you fear you'll cum in mere minutes.

He slides his hands up and grips your ass, grinding against your legs as he licks and sucks your cunt like a man starved. Drooling and slobbering all over you. He pulls back and adds to the mess — a fat wad of spit hitting you and making you jolt.

"Get this cunt nice and sloppy so I can slide right in~"

"Sir, please-" He pulls out his cock quickly, stuffing it between your socked calves and moaning. Loud.

"Keep begging, princess," he spits again, reveling in the way your hips jerk, "makes me want to fuck you more."

You sob into your hands — not from his words. To bite back your pleads for him to do it. It's hard to remember the scene when he's making you gush on his pointed tongue.

"Fuck- fuck!" You can't help the string of moans that tumble off your lips as he makes you cum all over his mouth; using his grip on your ass to make you grind into him as you slump and tremble.

He doesn't give you any time to recoup. He drops your hips to the mattress; making them bounce a bit, and climbs over you, manic grin on his slick lips. "You slut~" Using the rope in your wrists, he pulls your arms down so he can see your heated, teary face.

His hand finds its way back to its rightful place on your throat. Just resting there, maybe to ground you in your post orgasmic bliss. Maybe to keep you in place as he shoves his tip into your fluttering hole.

"Ah!" You gasp, eyes squeezing shut and jaw tense. He's definitely the thickest man you've ever been with. And this position — having your legs and subsequently, your heat, stuck together adds to it. A lot. You can't spread your legs, can't try to accommodate for his goliath girth. All you can do is take it. Every single inch as he pushes into you, nice and slow so he can watch all the cute twitches in your face and beautiful tears that slide down your temples.

"Fuck-" He nearly collapses on top of you as he bottoms out in your pulsing walls. "Such a tight fit, you're begging for my cum..." His blue hair tickles your neck as he nuzzles into it, kissing your collar bone. "Your warm little hole is perfect, sweetheart."

You lean into his delicate touch as his hand moves up to cup your jaw, the other holding onto the rope on your wrist tightly. "I might just have to keep you." He moans deeply as he gives a sudden thrust, making you yelp.

"Gentle! Please, gentle... Y-you're gonna split me in ha- in half," you cry into his hand, nuzzling into it as he does to your neck.

"Oh, s-shut up," he stutters as he starts sliding in and out of you; slow and deep. "You love it. You love my fat cock breaking you. You know how I know?"

"No..?"

"Cause your cunt is drooling all over me, little siren~"

His special nickname for you makes your eyes roll into your skull and stay there as you convulse under him — slammed with an orgasm so rough that it makes you wail brokenly.

You're so far gone in your pleasure that you don't realize he's slipped his thumb into your mouth and you're now sucking at it to ground yourself as he slams his hips into you mercilessly. Don't recognize that he's staring down at you with fully dilated eyes and heavy breaths. You have to blink a few times — and the sight makes his stomach flutter with butterflies.

"Fucking told you," he coos the mean words as he tries to fuck his way up to your guts, "you were made to be my personal cock sleeve, huh?"

"Mhmm~" You moan around his thumb, your brain so pleasantly numb with tingling ecstasy that you've forgotten about the role-play completely. Your subconscious is taken over, making you soft and pliable beneath his rough pounding; teary eyes so sweet that he can't help but smile. Trusting him completely and taking whatever he gives because you know you can.

"Such a sweet, obedient, little slut," he snakes his fingers between yours and holds one of your hands tightly. "You dumb on my cock, sweetheart? I fuck your brains out?"

"Mhm~" You hum, head bobbing lightly as you suck on his thumb, hand squeezing his as tightly as possible while he presses against your g-spot repeatedly with his bulbous tip.

"You want my cum?" He knows the response he's going to get when you're so deep in sub-space. Smile spreading even further on his lips as he's proven right.

"Please, Captain," you slur out quickly before your lips are back around his thumb, melting into his soft cupping of your jaw.

"Fuck-" He grits his teeth, fingers twitching as his peak rapidly grows closer, "yeah, you do~ Of course you do, my dirty little siren~"

You didn't even feel it coming until a sharp peak slaps you cunt first, making you gasp and arch below him. Each of his frenzied thrusts send a spurt of your release splashing; soaking your skirt on your waist and his shirt, dripping off you and wetting the bed.

He crushes you below him, kissing all over your face as he fucks his load into you as deep as possible, moaning soft praises as you shake with sobs.

You start breathing fast, eyes dizzy and heart pounding so fast it makes you sweat as he stills deep inside of you.

"Shhh~" He shushes you with a smile, bringing both of his hands to wipe your tears with an easy touch. It feels like you've had your entire world rocked, and seeing him so calm and collected makes you relax. "I've got you, Hongjoong's got you, sweetheart."

"H-" You huff in a shaking breath, "hold me?"

"C'mere," he hums, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and blanketing you with his body. His cock still heavy inside of you, his weight on your chest, his lips planting kisses on your teary cheek. "You did so wonderfully, princess. Did you enjoy yourself?"

"Yes," you moan softly as you close your eyes blissfully, fingers playing with his shirt from their place stuck between you. "Thank you, Captain~"

"Thank you, little siren~"

━༻❁༺━

━༻❁༺━

"Check this out," Mingi flops into bed next to you a few weeks later. He slides an arm under your neck and snuggles to your back as he shows you his phone.

"What am I looking at?" You hum tiredly, rubbing your eyes before looking at the screen again.

"We have a fan-boy~" He chuckles, scrolling on the page slowly. "Been re-posting our stuff for like two months, he's really into you- oh, look at this one."

It's a screenshot from the beginning of you and Hongjoongs role-playing video. Both of you laid in the bed and recording a disclaimer to stay safe and consensual. As you were saying that you had given him clear permission to do the things he did, he was looking down at you with a fond smile; petting your head softly as you laid on his chest.

'Why did the way Captain looks at Princess make me hard before they even started? I don't know who I want to be more. I would let him ruin me and I would absolutely wreck her >:( She's so adorable, I would love to rearrange her guts while her boyfriends film us. I want her to scream my name. The dream.'

You take the device from him with a small giggle, "for real? I knew we had our regulars but I didn't know we had fans."

A clip of you fingering yourself is his pinned post. The caption:

'Poor Princess can hardly make herself squirt... I can do it, don't worry<3'

The attached picture of the man's slender hand makes you gulp. "Wow," you scroll more. Every few days, a slew of posts of the four of you are made. Something catches your eye. "Mingi-" You reach back and slap his side lightly, "why do you follow him?"

"He's got pretty hands-"

"Yo! That's what's I was thinking!"

You click back to the top and scan his profile, "Hwa? That's a pretty name."

"Mhm," he slides his hand down your waist slowly, "maybe we should make a video, you can moan his name~ I bet he'd cream in his pants."

"You perv... Let's do it~"

━༻❁༺━

[airaviity]

Should I?

Part Three

❥Kim Hongjoong x Jeong Yunho x Song Mingi x fem reader

➯a/n: it's been a long time since i wrote straight up smut with little to no plot and i went HAM. like wow get some water you thirsty hoe

✫彡wordcount: 12k (😟)

(>ᴗ•)genre: smut

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: WHOAH BITCH CALM DOWN HOLY SHIT WE GOT : healthy communication (we cheered!!), heavy mxm, poly relationship, amateur 🌽⭐️ au, hard doms hj & yh/sub reader & mg, orgasm control and denial, overstimulation, unprotected (with previous discussions of safety and contraception (woooo!!)), degrading&praising double whammy, DIRT TALK OUT THE FUCKIGN WAZOO YO, giving&receiving head, manhandling, like serious manhandling, size difference, spanking and slapping, dp, feral mingi (WOOF WOOF), spit, oral fixation, squirting, choking(in multiple variations), marathon sex, safe word in place but not used, dacryphilia, cum eating, hair pulling, sub space, aftercare (yippee!!!) SERIOUS name calling (including but not limited to): slut&whore (classics), toy, brat, perv. pet names(included but not limited to): baby, princess, pretty boy/girl, daddy, captain, sir, and a special one curtsey of hj which made my mind explode when i thought of it

dirty nasty filthy all around; enjoy lmfaooo

Should I? Masterlist

MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI

It had been multiple months since your live stream blew up. The account where the three of you had posted highlights and special content had gotten hundreds of thousands of new subscribers in that time. You began making revenue from older videos, even ones from way back in college in Mingi's dorm that had the quality that would make you believe it was filmed on a microwave. Something about your relationships dynamics drew people in and forced their eyes to be glued on you.

    Including a man that you only knew as your.captain. Out of pure curiosity: one day soon after he left a fat tip at the end of that faithful stream, you sat together and checked out his account. Surely you wouldn't reach out to him. And more than surely he wouldn't be invited anywhere near you if Yunho had anything to say about it. But it never hurt just to see who the income came from on occasion. Right?

     He had hundreds of videos, he'd been in the game as long as you have. All solo. All very well received. All very... you. He seemed like he fit right into your dynamics. The same kinks, the same nicknames dripping in honey, the same vibes- it was spooky to an extent. It was sexy as well, if the way Mingi was shifting while watching the video on your phone said anything. He showed his face, a very handsome one. His hair often changed and so did the decorations in his ears and the occasional addition of a new cling wrapped tattoo. You'd all be lying if you said you weren't intrigued, let alone attracted by the confidence he held as he used a fleshlight so hard that his tip broke through the other side. It was your turn to shift around.

Something about him even drew Yunho in. Maybe he wanted to just fight out their dominance and see who came out on top. See who got the title of dom for the night and got to have their way with you and Mingi. But just maybe. He'd never let someone else touch his precious Babies, surely.

    So life continued as normal. Save for a few changes. Less financial burdening, for one. More healthy communication as a side effect of always setting boundaries for what you would keep separate and what you were comfortable with. More fun even.

     Your live streams used to be only once or twice a month because of how much you all had to work just to make ends meet. Now they were much more spontaneous and frequent, even venturing into two-somes with a lot of prior communication and promise that no one be left out and time was always to be made up.

    Your videos used to be three times a year max, but with Mingi dropping more shifts, he had more time to edit and get out things that had been collecting dust on a USB. One of which made your.captain reach out again. This time with a comment. Under the newest video that Mingi had gotten edited and posted- an almost hour long roleplay session between you and Yunho pretending to be a prisoner and cop (you can probably guess who's who) a comment with that all too familiar profile picture of him and his toned abs.

     cops always need a partner, especially with frisky inmates like this little thief

     That comment had stuck in Yunhos brain for far too long for his own liking, and he was beginning to feel guilty as he pounded into Mingi at the thought of having another dom in the bed to fuck his lovers dumb with him. The guilt faded quickly as Mingi slipped up and called him 'Captain', only making him plow in harder.

    And thus began the video calls. Neither you guys or him payed one another. At first, it was innocent even. It was a mutual agreement to test the waters. And the waters felt so unbelievably amazing.

    And here you find yourself months after that. A year and a half after your first ever interaction with your.captain, sitting between your boyfriends in a well lit diner and picking at your cherry pie with a frown.

      "Honey?" Mingis soft voice makes you peek up, "we can always leave." Yunho copies his sentiment immediately, reiterating the boundaries that you all had set in stone. First and foremost being that — if anyone gets the smallest bit uncomfortable, you will up and leave without a single word.

     "I'm just nervous. You guys are the only ones I've ever been with, you know that," you offer a small smile, finally taking a bite as you look back at the door — only to almost choke as the man you've only seen through the laptop screen walks in in his full glory. Mingi has the same reaction, nearly spilling his lemonade over the side of the booth as he spots him. Yunho simply has a blush forming on his cheeks under his face mask.

     The camera doesn't capture his beauty or his confidence. It radiates off of him like a halo. "Holy shit fuck," Mingi coughs as he pats your back, thankfully helping compose you both before your.captain spots you and starts heading your way.

     It would be hard to miss who he's looking for. Not only do the two giant men and a woman who looks miniature compared to them stick out like a sore thumb in the busy restaurant, he would recognize the back of your head anywhere. He's watched enough of 'Minnie's POV' videos to know how the back of you head looks as he pushes it deeper onto 'Daddy's cock just to hear you gag and make him moan. He almost turns around and walks away as what he's doing sinks in — as he sees the three of you. You three look even more like a couple than you do online and it dawns on him.

    Princess and Minnie have matching hair ties on their wrists. Minnie and Daddy sharing the same shirt but in a slight different color. Daddy has his arm draped around Princess' shoulder, a ring proudly displayed on his ring finger.

    But he wants in so, so badly.

So he swallows his nerves and puts on a face of false confidence as he saunters to the table.

    The first few meetings were mundane, innocent if you could look past the fact that you all wanted to tear each others clothes off. Talk of your normal lives away from your content and all about each other. Hours went into discussing consent and contraceptives and boundaries for each and every one of you.

      And then the day finally came.

━༻❁༺━

     The hotel room was curtesy of Hongjoong. His name was Hongjoong, you had all learned pretty quickly. Even so much as a slip of "Captain" from your lips and he was rock hard. So, Hongjoong it was until today.

It was probably the fanciest place you had ever been, and it showed.

      His eyes drifted off from the camera as he and Yunho tried to make the device focus. And his gaze finds you. Anxiously tapping on the glass of water in your freshly manicured hand as you examined the room.

      It was clear that this was new to you, and to your boyfriends. And he wouldn't admit it; but it was new to him as well. He never recorded with another person, let alone three. He wasn't a virgin by any means, but you would be taking the title of first people he was with on camera.

      "The soap in there smells fucking amazing," Mingi breaks the tension, coming up to you and shoving his hand in your face. You shove his hand with a laugh, but take a whiff nonetheless.

     "Woah, that is good. Did you see the brand?"

    "It's, uh, it's mine actually." Both of your heads turn to Hongjoong, his eyes fixed back on the back of the camera as he fiddles with the settings. "Native."

     "Sorry?"

    "The brand, it's Native," he offers you both a brief smile, bending down a bit to get a better look at Yunho as he sits up a prop to make the camera focus, "I don't like using hotel soaps. They make my skin dry."

      Mingi chuckles as he wraps an arm around your shoulder, dragging you to the bed next to Yunho. "You're a bit of a weird guy, Hongjoong," he says as he climbs onto the high bed, reaching for and fiddling with the bottle of lube on the nightstand.

      "Hey, you said it smelled nice, and don't be complaining when your hands are soft as a feather," the mans rebuttal makes you laugh, his dark gaze trained on you in the view finder.

    "All good, man?" Yunho finally speaks as he notices his pregnant pause, hand possessively resting on your thigh as you lay beside him. Like he can feel his gaze on you.

      "All center! Should I start it now?"

━༻❁༺━

It was a bit awkward to start, of course it was. It was expected to be. That's why you had decided to record instead of stream.

     Yunho was quiet, watching Hongjoong like a hawk as he slid his hand up your girly short skirt, ignoring the tight bulge in his shorts in favor of making sure that boundaries stayed set in stone. The tension in his shoulders slumped away as Mingis hands ghosted up his stomach to his pecs.

They both watched from behind the camera as you and Hongjoong carefully felt each other out. You had on a masquerade mask, and your boyfriends each had one ready as well. Yours was pink and white, and they could hear Hongjoong praise how pretty it looked on you. You were laid sideways across the bed, and he was hovering over you like an angel.

An angel doing the dirtiest teasing of their beloved girlfriend. His long fingers were no match for Mingi or Yunhos giant hands, but they were still so enchanting as they traced patterns on your exposed thighs. His soft lips trailing all over your neck.

      "Calm down a bit, Daddy," Mingi whispers, kissing his neck, "she knows our safe word. Right, (Y/n)?" The use of your real name catches you off guard in an intimate setting — your brain takes a moment to realize he can just edit it out later, so he doesn't care.

      "Pause."

    Hongjoong, not having been paying attention prior to your speech, stalls his hands immediately and looks up at you.

     "Ah, see, Daddy! He remembers too," the younger man smiles, rubbing down Yunhos chest as Hongjoong goes back to worshiping your neck; this time with more intensity.

"Don't worry, partner~" The man above you chuckles between his soft sucks on your skin, "I'll take good care of your Princess."

"More," you whisper out a shy moan, hands fidgeting in the blankets, still not entirely sure if you should be touching him so freely.

"Uh? More?" He tilts his head with a smirk, feeling himself slip deeper and deeper into his dominant personality as he feels you crash into your submissive one. You were naturally quiet in life, he'd come to find. But this was entirely different.

"More, please!" You were putty in his hands, and it made his head fuzzy enough to forget that you had two loving fiancés just feet away.

"Say, 'please, Captain'," Hongjoong nips your ear lobe, making your skin burn hotter than before. "Be a good girl, be nice and polite and I'll make you feel so good."

"P-please, Captain! Please, I need more," your head rolls to face Yunho; who's currently teasing Mingi over his boxers as they watch you. He gives you a nod, and with your Daddy's permission, the final string tethering you to any semblance of anything other than complete submission is severed. "Captain, please make me cum~"

You're flipped onto your stomach in a second flat, and your hips are raised in the next as you giggle at his eagerness. He lands a light spank across your ass which has you moaning, eyes fluttering shut and your little laughs halting in favor of biting your lip.

Hongjoong flips up your skirt and comes face to face with the simultaneously cutesy and horniest thing he's ever seen; your thin strawberry printed panties clinging to your core and leaving little to his imagination as your arousal makes the fabric nearly transparent. "Damn..."

"Hong-?" Your questioning is cut off by a wail of pleasure so obscene it has Yunho blushing. The source of said pleasure is Hongjoongs searing hot mouth wrapping around your cunt and sucking the arousal out of the fabric like it's the last bit of hydration on Earth. "My fuck!" Your brain short circuits, making the men behind the camera laugh a bit.

It's genuinely like he doesn't need to breathe, he's sucking and lapping nonstop and holding your hips still as you writhe.

"Yah, do I get a turn?" Mingi gets a slap up the head from Yunho and a quick shake of your head.

"Nnnnno! He can't leave me! Captain, don't stop!" He wraps his arms around your thighs as if to say he has no such plans. "Oh, Daddy, he's going to make me cum!" At your words, Hongjoong bites the side of your panties and moves them out of the way, now lapping straight from the source and making you moan like a proper porn-star as he goes between plunging his tongue deep inside of you and making out with your clit. Like he can't decide which one he likes better.

He slaps your bottom rougher than before, pulling back and panting like he's just jogged for miles, ignoring your protests as he sits up and pushes his hair back; watching you wiggle your hips to beg for more. The way he licks his lips has both of the other men wanting a taste for themselves; which he can clearly see.

"C'mere," he growls, flipping you back to your back and coming to admire your begging expression.

"Captain," your voice drips with sickly sweet syrup as he yanks off your panties, watching with curiosity as he beckons the others forward.

"Why don't we let your Daddy have a taste?"

You eagerly spread your legs, welcoming Yunho between them as Hongjoong drags you to make room for the tall man. You lock eyes with your boyfriend as he crawls between your thighs like a predator before your head dips back off of the edge.

You come to face the tattoo across Hongjoongs upper thigh, gasping softly as your eyes move towards his now exposed member. "Woah," you exclaim with a sort of awe before, "Min," you go to search for him, knowing your shared love for a pretty length.

You find him coming to lay on his stomach, face level with your chest, "Minnie, look at the Captain's cock, it's so beautiful."

Hongjoong and Yunho share a chuckle at your breathless words, and the way Mingi has zero hesitation in following them. "Wow," his eyes widen, hands coming around your waist, "no kidding. I can see why you watched that video so many times now- ow!"

"Don't embarrass me!" You whine as you and Mingi get into a small cat fight that quickly ends with your lips entangled together roughly. You didn't often fight for dominance between each other — because it always ended quickly with you both falling into each other in a sort of stale mate. You moan into his mouth, fingers gripping his hair as Yunho begins to slowly lick at your clit; just the way he knows will make you come undone.

Your head falls back into place as Mingis lips depart from your own in favor of sucking down your neck and to your breasts.

Hongjoong, with his ears tinted red ever so slightly, comes into your upside down view, "you like one of my videos, huh?" He coos while cupping one of your cheeks in his palm, "tell me about it while Daddy eats you out."

His words paired with your boyfriends bombarding you with pleasure makes your toes curl; your socked feet coming to find purchase on Yunhos shoulders as he devours your pussy.

"I c-can't think!" Your cry of ecstasy is velvety smooth to the men, each of their members standing at attention and willing to make those words doubly true. One of your hands is still clinging to Mingis hair like a vice and making him moan, and the other is subconsciously reaching for Hongjoong.

"Yes, you can, little siren," he smirks as he takes your hand, kneeling down to be eye to eye with you, chuckling darkly as your eyes drift to nearly cross at the nickname. "I will yank you away from them the second you think you're about to cum. And I have a feeling that's close, so get talking, you cum-junkie."

"Your fleshlight! I want to be your fleshlight, Captain! Wh- ah!! When you fucked it so hard you broke it, please please please don't take me away! I want th-em to make me cum," you babble on and on as he simply nods with a grin, "ah, your hands- in the video! Minnie and Daddy agree, I'm not the only one, your moans are so sexy, Cap- Captain, please!! Daddy!" You're sobbing with the amount of energy you put behind holding off your orgasm, tears trailing up your face and disappearing within the mask.

"You're such a sweet girl, no wonder Daddy loves you-"

   You're creaming around Yunhos skilled tongue before you can stop it, crying out with a moan of, "fuck!" You tremble as Mingi holds you down, letting Yunho get his fill of your release as Hongjoong watches with a dark grin.

     When Yunho finally pulls away, your cunt is twitching with overstimulation but — "oh, Baby. We aren't done yet."

     He gathers you in his large arms and lifts you up, maneuvering you however it is he sees fit. How he sees fit is apparently tossing you like a rag doll to be bent over the edge of the bed, standing on your tippy toes to comfortably slump over the tall mattress.

     "You want the Captain to use you like his fleshlight?"

   You lock eyes with Hongjoong across the length of the large bed, suddenly shy. "Yes..."

    "Huh?" Yunho quickly tugs your hair, easily crushing your body with his as he grinds against you. "Speak up, or I'll get a less shy slut to please him."

    Mingi is nearly about to pounce, ready to have his world rocked.

   "No, please! I want to be his fleshlight! Minnie, please let him use me first! I'll let you fuck my throat!" His eyes light up at the possibility of one of his newer favorite positions. You've been working towards it for a while now, and the last few months you've been able to take his entire length down your throat with no problem. Yunho was still a work in progress, but to be entirely fair he is a giant.

     "Awe," Hongjoong chuckles, titling his head, "you want it that badly? I don't know... you've been a bit bratty, even came without permission."

    You nod quickly, hair falling around your face messily. "I'll be good! I'll be good!"

    He reaches across the bed and pushes it out of your face, cupping your cheeks roughly. "You know I broke that fleshlight, right? You want me to break your little pussy?"

     "Mh, you can try, but our girl takes it like a champ," Yunho smirks at the man, then towards his boyfriend. He picks you up again and tosses you across the bed like you weigh nothing. "If you can't break her, we'll do it together~"

     The words have your head spinning as Hongjoong pulls your bottom over the edge, immediately grinding his length along your slit. "I think I might just go easy on her so we can do it together."

    At Mingis moan, he lets out a devilish laugh. "Minnie likes the sound of that, huh? Wants to watch his girlfriend get ruined? Like a fucking cuckold. Such dirty little whores you have here, partner."

    Yunho yanks Mingi to mimic your position on the other edge, smiling to himself as you immediately seek out each others hands. "Dirty little whores, no question about it. Fighting over cock like two bitches in heat."

    You gasp as Hongjoongs tip prods at your soaked entrance, your head rolling back and getting a glimpse of Mingi being stretched out on Yunhos fingers. "Hey," Hongjoong growls, grabbing your jaw to make you face him, "when I'm fucking you, eyes on me. Got that, Darling?"

    "Yes, Captain," you bat your eyelashes at him and earn a smile and a playful slap on the cheek.

    "Good girl," he moans as his fat tip is welcomed into your warmth, "now you hold your Minnie's hand tight, okay?"

      "Ok- oh my fuck! Oh, oh! Captain!" Shouts of pleasure tumble out as incoherent words as he impales you on his girthy member, immediately setting a ruthless pace as he stretches out your walls. Whether you realize it or not, you're holding Mingis hand just as tightly as he's holding yours while Yunho sinks into him.

     Where Yunho and Mingi have impressive, delicious, length; Hongjoong has impossible, mouth watering girth.

    The bed doesn't know which way to shake, Yunho thrusting on one side and Hongjoong on the other. It just creaks pitifully quiet under the symphony of sex. 

     "Fucking hell," Hongjoong groans as he leans over you fully, hands locking on top of your head to keep you in place as the force of his thrusts threaten to send you sliding. A broken moan rumbles in his throat as you spread your legs out on the edge, allowing him to plunge deeper into your heat. "Sucking me in so good, little siren."

     "Ah, don't call me that! I'll cum!" You whimper, free hand coming up to hold his arm tightly as you look into his eyes beggingly.

     "Hm? Little siren? That's gonna make you cum on my cock while your boyfriends fuck on the same bed as us? Maybe after I turn your brain into mush we can all take turns passing you around- fuck!" He hisses as you clench around him, one of his hands finding your throat, "you like that idea, don't you? You want us to turn you into our personal cock toy, that it?"

"Y-yes!"

     Hongjoongs dirty talk isn't just riling you up, Mingi is an absolute mess and Yunho is plowing into him like a madman.

    "You want us to pass you around like a proper play thing and fill you up till you're leaking for days, that it? Awe, yeah," he nods with you mockingly as you agree with break neck speed, "the Princess wants to be used like a common whore. Maybe after you're all full of cum, it will be Minnie's turn to be our cumdump while you suck his-"

      "Cumming!" You squeal, quickly turning into pathetic whines as he pulls out abruptly, "no! No, Captain!" Another light slap shuts you up save for your whimpers.

     "You're not cumming until I say so. You came without either of our permission last time, but I let it slide. Next time you do that," he flicks Mingis head, "either of you. I'm going to make you beg for mercy. Got it?"

     "Yes, Captain," you both chime, though Mingi is much more slurred in the throes of passion. You want to look, you want to look so badly. But you keep your eyes on Hongjoong as he slams back into you.

     "Fuck- me!" You stutter, gasping for air as he holds you in place by your neck and ravages you. "My g-oh holy shit!! Yes!" Your vision is in and out of focus as he bullies your g-spot, making you gush around him. A lewd ring of milky fluids is forming around the base of his cock, and he moans loudly as he notices it.

      "Messy, messy, girl," he buries his head in the crook of your shoulder, nipping at your skin roughly. "Is the little siren going to take her Captains cum?"

     "Yes, give it to me!" Hongjoong knows the hotel is fairly soundproof, but between you and Mingi, he's sure someone will be knocking by the end of the night.

      As the warm, gushing liquid spurts into you, you let out a pitiful whimper; clenching and fluttering around him wildly as you revel in the feeling. You nearly cum then and there, and you would have if not for years of being edged by Yunho to the point of literal insanity teaching you how to reel yourself back.

     "Damn, so good..." Hongjoong moans into your neck as he slumps ontop of you, hips twitching as he releases into you. He gently rubs your neck as you whimper, feeling the vibrations beneath his hand. A pleased hum bubbles up his throat as you wrap your legs around his waist and hold him deep, your free arm draping around his neck; the other hand still holding onto Mingi tightly.

Mingi and Yunho are in the same position, more or less, panting messes embracing each other.

━༻❁༺━

"You alive over there, Princess?" Mingi's words are dripping in pleasure, all floaty and sweet just like how he feels.

He and Yunho look towards you as all you do is let out a tiny desperate moan.

You have your eyes screwed shut, your pleasure slamming against the wall you've put up to hold it back. But the dam is about to break. Hongjoong's cock is just that good. The feeling of his cum is just that good. Making you struggle to hold yourself back for even one round when with your boyfriends, you can be defiant and hold back for hours. But this... situation... it's making your pussy want to take control and just cum already; consequences be damned.

"Heh," Hongjoong chuckles as he lifts his head, seeing your fighting expression, "what a good girl, didn't cum?" You shake your head quickly, holding your breath. "Good job," he kisses your forehead softly as he slowly pulls out, smirking as you cry out, "shhh, it's okay. You did so wonderfully, you'll get to cum soon, Princess."

You pant as you open your eyes, relieved as he finally allows the burning ball of pleasure inside of you to dwindle; ever so slowly. "Ah, shit," you toss your head back, gulping, "thank you, Captain."

"So polite~ You have your Babies trained well, Daddy," he hums as he rubs your sides, watching as his seed slowly drips out of you.

"Mhm, I do, don't I?" Yunho reaches across and rubs the top of your head, "how you doin', Princess?"

"M'good," Your glassy eyes peek at Mingi; more specifically his twitching member and his cum covered stomach. "Min, no fair! I thought we were in this together," you give his shoulder a weak slap, making him giggle.

     "Hey, Daddy said I could!"

    "You'll get your turn, Babygirl," Hongjoong muses as he lifts you with a small grunt, letting you cling to him with your arms and legs locking around his body. You lean your head against his shoulder with a huff leaving your lips.

     Yunho softly kisses Mingis cheek as he departs, both of them having their eyes locked onto you as you're set onto the empty bedside table.

     "Remember what Daddy said, hm?" Hongjoong tugs your hair to make you look up at him, your jaw slack with a moan. "Don't, do you? He said if I can't break your pussy, we'll do it together. Daddy keeps his word, doesn't he?" Damn him; he keeps asking questions while flooding you with pleasure, knowing you can't answer. His fingers have found their way to your clit, pinching and twirling and flicking.

      "Plea-"

      "No."

     Your boyfriends watch with heated gazes as your head rolls, pressing against the wall as your back arches. "Please!" You slump as his teasing stops, breathing heavily.

    "Minnie," he beckons the man forward with a finger. He looks between you two and Yunho, who nods. With that, Mingi flings himself across the bed to get to you quicker, looking down at you with eyes full of love and lust. "Why don't you fuck our Princess?"

His hand gathers the sticky substance on his stomach, quickly wrapping around his cock as he looks up at him. He's shorter, sure. But Mingi feels like he's suddenly pocket-sized as Hongjoong makes eye contact with him.

"Nice and slow, okay? Like this," he hums as he strokes his member with languid movements of his wrist, "make her feel every inch. And you feel every little clench-" he squeezes and earns a guttural moan before he lets go. "Go on."

Yunho watches the exchange with a smile on his lips that's halfway fond, halfway horny. Hongjoong laps his hand clean, locking eyes with him as he does so.

Mingi leans over your figure, casting you in his shadow. "Hi, Princess." He smiles, cupping your cheeks and kissing you like it's his last chance to ever do so. Soft and passionate and filled with energy.

As he pulls back, you smile back up at him dopily, "hey, Minnie."

Hongjoong joins Yunho on the couch against the wall, catching their breath as they watch you. "You fucker," he punches his shoulder with a breathless laugh, "you should have told me she would try to milk me dry."

Yunho chuckles, pushing back his hair and taking his mask off to let his skin breathe as they sit out of frame. "Like she doesn't want to let you leave, right?"

"Exactly," he grins as they hear Mingi whimpering, thrusting in and out of you slowly, "he gets it too." They share a laugh, Yunho going to call out.

"Slow, Baby." He sees Mingi shake his head, whispering to you as your hands come around his back and caress the expanse.

"I can't t-take it!" Mingis hand slaps against the wall, the other wrapped around your back and scratching the skin there. "Please, can't I fuck her faster?"

"No," both of the men chime, making him whine louder. Yunho fixes his mask and joins Hongjoong in re-entering.

"How you holding out, little siren?" Hongjoong asks, tilting your head up to see your tearful eyes. "Still waiting for permission?"

"Yes, s-sir," you stammer as Mingis hips jolt, batting your lashes at him; then at Yunho — who nearly can't resist.

Nearly, that is. "Stop."

"Noooo," you whine just as loud as Mingi now, rolling and humping your hips as Yunho drags him away.

Hongjoong shushes you with two fingers to your lips, which you start kitten licking, making him falter for a second; his brain short circuiting as he locks eyes with you while you begin sucking on his digits. He blinks, and having already been half hard again from watching you and Mingi, he's now ready to fuck into any of your holes until you beg him for mercy.

He yanks you from the table as you yelp, throwing you unceremoniously onto the bed where Yunho catches you, dragging you to the middle of the large mattress. "Teasing our guest, Baby?"

"No, Daddy-"

"Fuck you weren't," Hongjoong lands a slap on your cheek, no longer holding back; and it makes your core throb. "Being a damn teasing brat. Your mouth just can't stand being empty can it?" He shoves his fingers back into your mouth, gagging you on them, "aren't you such an eager little cock-sucker?" He gives his fingers one last thrust into your mouth before pulling them out and wiping your spit across your face; all while Mingi watches in awe.

Yunho grabs your jaw roughly, smushing your lips together into a pout, "you know your manners, don't you, pretty girl?"

"Yes, Daddy..." You whisper, seeking out Mingis hand for a lifeline when Hongjoong pins your hands above your head, glaring down at you.

"Then you best get to apologizing," your boyfriend shoves your face, stepping back with a grin as you pout up at the man.

    "I'm sorry, Captain-"

      He tuts his tongue, pulling Mingis hands over, "hold her down — if you let her get away, you're next on my list, you perv."

    Mingi feels a thrill rush through him, each hand pinning one of your arms to the bed. He never really uses his natural strength against you, but something about the way you're already thrashing around has him wanting to fuck you himself.

    "Captain, please!" You kick your legs, not really trying to get away but more trying to get his empathy.

    "Sit still," a slap to your core over your skirt has you freezing, panting. He watches your face closely, smirking wide as he sees the cogs turning in your head. You liked that. "Huh," he huffs a laugh, looking to Yunho as the man quickly sets up the camera on the side of the bed, "how many spanks can your Princess handle?" He asks as he yanks the fabric off of your hips.

    He thinks for a moment as he makes sure the bed is all in frame, watching your predicament through the lens, "usually twenty good spanks gets her begging for forgiveness."

    "Twenty-five then," he holds back a grin as your eyes widen, "yeah, you heard me. Hold her still, Min. Be a good boy and you can fuck her while her pussy is nice and sensitive." He knows that's going to be a continuation of your punishment while simultaneously being a reward for Mingi. He knows how feral the man can get from how many times he's rewatched the first stream of yours he saw. The one where Mingi went so far gone wanting to fuck you that he was almost dominant in the way he said he wanted to cum inside of you.

And the way he leans his body over yours to crush you to the bed, holding your wrists tightly; you all know he won't fail.

━༻❁༺━

    "I still don't hear an apology," Yunho hums as he kneels on the bed, opposite of the camera with no shame to be found as he strokes himself to the sight of Hongjoong playing with your pussy.

     "I'm s-fuck!" You gasp as his palm hits your bare, sensitive skin for the first time. "Captain, I'm sorry- ah!" Mingis heavy weight keeps you from arching, from moving away, from doing anything but shuffle your legs uselessly as slap after slap lands on your heat. "Daddy!" A second passes before a larger hand makes contact, making you bite at Mingis side.

    "Fuck," he moans, nails digging into your wrists, his eyes never leaving your cunt as he watches it get puffy and messy with all of your wetness and the remnants of Hongjoongs cum being smeared by their hands.

    "Daddy isn't gonna save you this time, Baby," Yunho coos as he sees your teary eyes, "you know better than to tease, that's our job."

    "I'm sorry, sir! I won't tease, I won't!" If you take twenty five spanks to your clit, you'll be cumming so hard that you'll be unconscious whether you have permission or not. "Pleaseee- ow!" Your cry is between the line of pleasure and pain, leaning more in the 'I'm about to float away' side. Your lips are already tingling and you're already on the edge from everything else.

    "I don't go easy on brats," Hongjoong gives your thigh a pinch as you move your legs helplessly, "I would have been willing to let that slide, but not on top of you cumming without permission early. We can't let bad behavior go unpunished, can we, partner?"

    "No," Yunho says with a dark satisfaction as you settle your legs wide open for them, "no, we can't, Captain."

     When you reach seventeen, you're hiccuping and twitching with every collision; leaking all over the bed and still babbling apologies to the Captain.

    At twenty-three, you sob as you see Hongjoong raise his hand, knowing you'll cum with his next strike, "Captain! Captain, wait! Pl-ease! I'll do anything!" You flinch as it meets your heated and puffy core softly, soothing it with his knuckles.

    "Anything, huh?"

    "Yes, yes, any-anything, Sir!"

    He and Yunho share a smirk, and he taps Mingis shoulder, making the man rise. "Good job, pretty boy," he kisses the man's cheek, making him bite his lip as he sits back fully.

    Yunho is by his side in a second flat, his whispers completely lost on you as Hongjoong gathers you in his arms and hugs you to his chest gently. "Oh, it's okay, my little siren, you took the first part of your punishment so well." He cradles your top half against himself, grinning like a jackal as he sees Mingis eyes light up at his boyfriend's hushed words.

    "F-first?" you mumble between your sniffs, arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders.

    Your knees are knocked apart, making you fall further into Hongjoongs chest as your eyes widen; remembering his words to Mingi. "You said you'd do anything, right?"

    You nod, wide eyes looking up at him as you feel the mattress dip behind you.

     "You're going to let us all fuck you until we're satisfied, and then I'll forgive you for being such a teasing brat. And, hey," he grips your hair as you go to peek behind you, "hey, look at me. You aren't going to cum until I say so. Do you understand? Not Daddy, not Minnie, me. I'm the one who decides when you cum. Do you got that?"

    "Yes-" As soon as the word tumbles from your lips, Mingi stuffs himself into your overworked pussy with primal urgency, making you scream; hiding your face in Hongjoongs chest.

    He chuckles as he holds your head to him, stroking your hair gently in contrast to the absolute feral nature your boyfriend is pounding into you with. Yunho smirks as he kisses along Mingi's neck, spurring him on. "Good boy, that's it. Take her just like you like it, she's just a little toy right now, anyways~" 

   Mingi is whining and growling and slamming in and out of you like a piston, stuck somewhere between wanting to demolish your cunt to reform it to the shape of his cock and melting like butter at Yunhos praise and watching the way Hongjoong cradles you.

    You dig your trembling fingers into Hongjoongs biceps, talking nonsense to try and distract yourself from the diving head first into the pleasure Mingi is drilling into you.

      Your legs give out, and Mingi quickly drags you back up; wrapping his arms around your waist. He's making you feel just as good as the dominant men do — though in a completely different way. His feral thrusts are like an animal, bruising and unforgiving and with one purpose; to get as deep inside of you as humanly possible. He isn't even trying to, but he's bumping into your g-spot and your cervix and still trying to fuck deeper.

    "Captain! Can-"

    "No."

    You cry into his chest, huffing and panting to chase your breath as Mingi repeatedly knocks it away from you. "Ah, Min!"

      His hands are all over you, as Yunhos are all over him.

     "Minnie, please cum!" You beg for even a brief pause, your heart thudding with effort to hold back its natural pleasure.

    He can't say no to you, especially not like this, so he gives one last punishing thrust; releasing his own pleasure as deep inside of you as possible. He falls on top of you with a gasp, crushing you with his weight and digging himself even deeper.

    Your face ends up in Hongjoongs lap, and you lick your lips as you come to face his upright member.

Yunho rubs his back as he trembles from the large release, "are you satisfied, Baby?"

Mingi is moaning like a movie star in your ear, and you're following suit as he starts thrusting again with a groan of, "more."

━༻❁༺━

    By the time Mingi is finally satiated, your pussy is weeping; as are you. You continue kitten licking and kissing along Hongjoongs cock, thankful for any small distraction to keep yourself from cumming. Because you can tell Hongjoong won't be giving you permission any time soon.

    Yunho pulls Mingi's body off you, carefully helping him to the couch where he promptly falls into a deep sleep; fucking you like a rabbit clearly took its toll.

    The pool of pleasure in your stomach barely has time to begin draining before Hongjoong gently rolls you over. "Still holding on, Baby?"

      "Ye-s, sir," you whimper as he slowly begins fingering your abused hole, pushing Mingi's multiple loads gushing into a puddle under you.

    "Barely," Yunho has a dark smile as he crawls over to you, grabbing your neck as he gives you a rough kiss.

     "If you can be a good girl and make it through this, imagine how good it will be when I finally let you cum." You whine into Yunhos mouth at Hongjoongs words, hips twitching with undeniable need.

    Yunho rests his forehead against yours, taking in your tear stained face and expression of focus. "You want to break my Princess' pussy together, Captain?" 

    "You know I do, Daddy," Hongjoong lands a deep kiss to your clit, making you gasp and cling to your boyfriend's shoulders.

   "Can-"

   "No."

    You throw your head back in frustration, pouting as Yunho lifts you up. "Daddy-" Your pleading tone is shut down on the spot.

    "Sorry, Baby. You got yourself into this mess, your Captain is the only one who can end your punishment," he speaks smoothly as he lays back, pulling you ontop of him. You groan, but it quickly falls into a sigh as Yunho sinks into your heat, filling you up. "Hold her up for me, Cap."

He's behind you now, wrapping his arms under yours and holding you upright by your shoulders. You ask in vain, leaning your head back on his shoulder, "please, Captain, can I cum?"

He looks to think for a second, but ultimately shakes his head with a depraved smile as your face falls back into a pout after the false hope he'd given you. "Not yet, pretty girl. You're doing so well for us, just a little while longer," he coos, licking up your neck and leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake.

     "Fuck, Princess," Yunho hisses as he begins a slow rhythm, "loosen up, I can feel you clenching."

    "I can't," you say in a quick breath, hands finding their way to lay over Hongjoongs as they cup and knead your chest, "I'll cum."

    He chuckles from behind you, "you're dedicated, huh? If you don't relax, we won't both fit."

    The implication of his words makes you clench around Yunho even tighter, squealing as he grabs your hips and begins moving faster. "Please, Captain! I'll die if I don't cum soon!"

    Whether you're saying that for his empathy or you genuinely believe it in your foggy brain, it makes the men chuckle, Yunhos head tilts back as he rubs his thumbs on your hip bones; making you ride him.

     "Are you sure you're sorry? You learned your lesson?" He teases a hand down to your clit, ghosting over it just barely. 

     "Yes! Yes yes yes! I'll be a good girl for you! Please, jus-"

     "Then you can cum." It takes a moment for his words to be processed in the mess that is your mind, but it connects just as he begins circling your clit with just the right amount of pressure to make you crazy.

     "Ah!" You yell with a giddy smile, quickly relaxing in their hold, "oh fuck! Tha-thank you!"

    Yunho is slamming into you easily as you relax around him, fluttering and twitching like you've already cum. And Hongjoongs fingers are relentlessly playing with your bundle of nerves, his mouth sucking little marks onto the back of your shoulders.

     You shake like a leaf in the wind as you finally fall over the peak of your pleasure, gushing a mixture of your and Mingi's cum all over your shared fiancé. Hongjoong is the only thing keeping you upright, watching over your shoulder as your eyes roll back into your head while he holds you up for Yunho to keep bucking into.

    "Fuck, that's it, Baby~"

    "There you go, my siren~"

     Their saccharine praises send you careening before you can even climb back all the way up, another orgasm making you gasp and grab at anything in reach. One hand lands on Yunhos at your hip, the other on Hongjoongs forearm as he wraps his arms around your waist. You're officially long gone, sucked into the waves of ecstasy — not even noticing as Yunho stops thrusting into you.

    Not even noticing as Hongjoongs tip prods its way into the same hole as him.

    Not until it finally slips in, making your eyes fly open, "fuck!" You slap Yunhos shoulders as you rest your head on his chest, hiding your fucked-out face. "So full!"

     "Shhh," Yunho holds your head in his big hands, moaning deeply as he feels your walls slowly stretching to accommodate for both of them; used to length, not the absolute girth of Hongjoong. Especially not when paired with anything else. "Let us take care of you, my needy Baby. Daddy knows you love it," he soothes his hands over your shakey arms, taking similarly deep breaths.

    "I lo-ve it," you manage to slur as Hongjoongs presence inside of you makes Yunho press against your g-spot persistently.

     "Almost there," he whispers, biting his lip as he watches you swallow him inch by inch even though Yunho is filling you out almost fully. Even if there wasn't room, they made it. 

    "Cap- can, uuuh fuck me," you fist the sheets with a whine, "please, may I c-cum?"

    "Cum? We aren't even moving, Baby."

    "Please?!" You plead into Yunhos chest, fidgeting between them.

     "You can cum, sweet girl-"

 

    You yelp an incomprehensible word of gratitude, gasping for air as your walls squeeze the men for all their worth. Yunho grips your hips with bruising force, his eyes fluttering shut and his head rolling back. Hongjoong isn't fairing any better, his arms tightening around you; his forehead against the back of your neck and his breath fanning your heated skin as he pants.

     "Fucking hell," the man behind you lets out something between a whine and a groan, kissing along your spine.

     "Hey," the one below you cups your burning face, "you in there, Princess?"

    You nod clumsily, swallowing the pool of saliva in your mouth with an audible gulp. "Feel s'good, Daddy..."

     "Awe, I bet it does, Baby," he pulls you down to his lips, melding them with yours and knocking the noses of your masks together. He bites down on your bottom lip as he pulls away, smirking as he lets go of it, "feels fucking heavenly for us, too. Isn't that right, Captain?"

     You're pulled back up by a hand on your throat — Hongjoong choking you as he tilts your head to the side and takes your lips for the first time.

It's filthy. Oh, it's filthy. A sight to behold as he stakes his claim on your mouth. The hand that's not around your throat squeezes on either side of your jaw, making you part your lips. The second you do, his tongue is all over. Tracing your teeth and the roof of your mouth before finding your tongue and laving all over it as you extend it for him. Spit is dripping onto your chins and neither of you can breathe, but it doesn't stop you.

    Yunho, watching the display with eyes glazed with blazing lust, begins thrusting slowly; dragging his cock against Hongjoongs while you twitch and pulsate around them.

     His hand tightens around your throat as you both moan with his movements, trading your sounds along with your spit.

When he finally manages to tear himself from you, you're lightheaded and gasping for oxygen. He's becoming addicted to the feeling of your throat fighting to swallow any air under his grip, watching you heave with a dark satisfaction. "Fucking heavenly." He finally answers Yunho as he lets go of your neck, rubbing down your sides in a small gesture of apology for robbing you of air.

You lean back against his chest, yours rising and falling with your deep inhalations. Yunho leans up, his cock pressing deeper. "Look at my messy Princess," he mocks with a grin as he smears your combined spit across your face. "Open," is an order; and you follow it.

He presses your tongue down with two of his fingers, and you close your eyes blissfully as you know what to expect from your boyfriend.

He spits straight into your mouth, moaning deeply as he watches it settle — they both feel your cunt twitch.

"Have a turn, Captain," he chuckles as you tilt your head eagerly, your tongue licking at his fingers subconsciously, "she likes it."

You hum an affirmative 'uh-huh', peeking your eyes open. Hongjoong meets your eyes as he cups your jaw, "such a cute spit-whore." He licks his lips as he watches your tongue flicking against Yunhos fingers.

    His spit lands in the back of your mouth, another twitch of your walls making both of them groan. "Swallow," Hongjoong orders, pinching your hip when you take too long for his liking.

    Your lips close around Yunhos digits, swallowing their spit with a sound akin to a pleased purr. You reopen, "ahhh."

    "Good girl," Yunho chuckles as he slides his fingers out teasingly slow, giving you time to give him a few loving kitten licks, "you ready for us to move?"

    Their answer comes in the form of you rolling your hips, making them simultaneously lose their minds. Yunho grabs your wrists from where your hands rest on his chest, grounding himself as his brain tells him to just fuck you like there's no tomorrow. Hongjoongs head falls back as a rumbling moan parts his lips, similarly grounding himself with his hands on your sides.

     "F-fuck," Yunho huffs out the breath he was holding, "is that a yes, Baby?"

    "Yes, Daddy, I want you and the Captain to break my pussy- oh fucking fuck!" Your lustful voice is replaced by your cries of pleasure in a second flat. With your verbal confirmation, they're now on a mission to do just that.

━༻❁༺━

     The loud noises of your brutish sex wakes Mingi, even from his deep slumber. His body is sore from pounding into you so roughly, and he can imagine you'll be even worse off.

    Especially as he catches a blurry glimpse of Hongjoong yanking you around the bed and throwing you on your side.

     He blinks and sits up, watching the man climb over you and lay infront of you; quickly plunging his member back into you. You cry out, holding his shoulders tightly and burying your face in his chest. Yunho lays behind you, and your moans grow as he joins Hongjoong inside of you.

     Mingi is already hard again, he was when he woke up; but now it's impossible to ignore. Your sounds and the smell of sex in the air got him rock solid in his sleep even though he's nearly painfully tender. 

    Yunho takes notice to his newly awakened state, staring over at him as he continues his merciless pumping in and out. "Yah," he grabs a fistful of your hair, yanking your face out of the safety of Hongjoongs warm chest. "You woke Minnie, you noisy slut."

   Your teary, pleasure filled eyes meet his. Your lips are kissed swollen, your mask askew and your hair even more so. He can't look away, nor does he feel the need to.

    He can't believe you're still even semi-coherent. You were a babbling mess while he was holding you down — begging to cum, now you're panting and crying and moaning nonstop. He's enamored with that fact about you. You can take so much more than him in the bedroom; that much is clear now more than ever as you let the two dominant men fuck you like you owe them money. 

     "Tsk," Hongjoong clicks his tongue, wrapping his hand around your bared neck as Yunho holds your head back by your hair. It's quickly become his favorite thing in the world, watching you squirm and whine under his hand. "Apologize, Princess."

     "S-sorryyyy, Min-" You slur your words, brain sufficiently scrambled by their nonstop in and out, in and out, and tossing you into position after position to see which one made you yell the loudest and which one made you douse them with waves of arousal. "Jus' feels too- ah too good!"

    You whine as they stop, seemingly working with a sort of telepathy as they handle you seamlessly together. Hongjoong pulls you to straddle his lap as he lays back across the bed, Yunho letting go of your head with a shove and then a pet; making you dizzier with his mix of rough and sweet treatment of you.

    "Min, get over here," Yunho beckons him, and his legs move without his brain even thinking about it. "You want in, Babyboy?" He asks as he stands, looking down at him and combing back his hair with his fingers. His member, still warm and wet from your insides, rubs against his and makes him shiver. "I know it's your favorite position, you too sore?"

    "No," Mingi says quickly, making Yunho chuckle. "Please, can I?"

    "Ask the Captain if he'll share his toy with you~"

    Overhearing their conversation, you grind down harder on Hongjoong with a whimper, and the smirk on Yunhos face tells Mingi he meant for you to hear his teasing of you.

     Mingi crawls back up on the bed, laying on his back next to Hongjoong and looking over at him with his best puppy dog eyes — fighting himself not to look at the way you ride him. "Captain?"

     Like you aren't bouncing on his length, Hongjoong turns his face and looks at the younger man. "Yes, Minnie?"

    "Can I fuck your toy with you?"

     Your hips stumble, legs like jelly at the sweet sound of his vulgar words. Hongjoong lands a slap to your backside, "stay steady," he says without even looking away from Mingi. You whine a 'sorry, Captain' as you take in slow breaths.

    "You wanna fuck my little siren with me?"

    You cry out, nodding quickly as if to tell him to let him.

    "Yes, please, Captain," Mingi gives his sweetest smile, and not even Hongjoong cant say no to that; not that he was going to anyways.

    You gasp as Hongjoong throws you off of him and onto Mingi with your back on his chest. You lay back against your boyfriend, your head under his chin and your chest quickly embraced by his arms. His familiar length slides into you without hesitation or resistance, the warmth making him moan happily.

    "What do we say, Baby?" Yunho appears above your heads, leaning over the bed with one hand supporting his weight and the other holding his phone; recording you.

    Both of you blink at the phone for a moment, registering the fact that now two cameras are on you, before looking to the other man quickly; "thank you, Captain."

     "So sweet," he hums playfully, slotting himself between your tangled legs. As he slowly pushes himself in with Mingi, he leans up and gives him the same messy first kiss; minus the choking. No, his hand finds your throat again, like that's its rightful place.

     Mingi is just as much a mess as you were when Hongjoong pulls away, moving down to your face.

     You're gasping under his hand, even though he's not putting nearly as much pressure as you know he can. "Such a good girl, you know that? You're a good little fuck-toy." His candied tone has you feeling faint, his hand tightening with every word, "you make us feel so good. I know Daddy and Minnie agree, you feel like heaven."

     You feel Mingi nod, and see Yunho grin as he spreads your stuffed lower lips with his fingers, making you shiver. "That's right," he agrees while he films a close up of the two of them stretching you out, "our Princess feels like heaven on Earth. She knows how to take a good fucking, and she likes it too." He talks like you aren't right there as he circles your puffy clit with his fingertips. "Her perfect pussy just loves it."

"Gah-" You choke on your spit as Mingi gives a rough thrust, hands holding his arms tightly.

"S-sorry," he apologizes to both you and the Captain, who gives him a glare. "Sorry, Captain... she was squeezing so good."

Yunho lets out another dark chuckle, fingertips still toying with your clit. "Ah," he sighs with a smile, "you two are such little cumwhores." The way he says it sounds fond, because it is. He loves that about you. He loves everything about you two; and Hongjoong can see why.

"Here," he passes the phone to Hongjoong with a smirk, quickly moving to straddle your shoulders. "Can my girl take one more cock?"

You quickly open your mouth, tongue rolling out of your swollen lips along with whining moans as the two of them begin moving inside of you.

He leans and gives your tongue a little kiss before sitting back up and immediately gagging you on his cock, his hands tangled in Mingi's hair and pulling roughly; making his moans increase.

It almost too much to handle. But at the same time, you can't get enough.

Hongjoong bends one of your legs and smirks as you let out a weak moan of protest around Yunhos length, gushing as he and Mingi reach all new depths inside of you.

━༻❁༺━

Not being able to ask for permission with your boyfriend currently fucking your throat, you think you're going to get in trouble with Hongjoong as your overstimulated body cums with a squirt onto his pelvis.

Instead, he whistles all the while continuing to pound you with Mingi, "damn, what a sight! I was wondering when this pretty pussy would squirt for us."

"You messy fleshlight," Yunho taunts as he watches your eyes roll back, a growl pushing past his lips as you gulp and gag around him while he cums down your throat. But you manage to take it all and leave little mess as he slides out of your mouth and rests on your chest; effectively crushing you and Mingi both. Its dizzying — everything is. You'd be surprised if you could ever see straight again.

You pant and whine, pant and whine, sobbing like a broken record of ecstasy as your aching insides continue to be bullied. And still, your safe word never even enters your mind. You're feeling as good as you're making them feel, and you don't want it to ever stop; which is why you pout as you feel Mingi slip out after releasing his third load of the round into you.

The sloppy and wet sounds make your ears burn, and you feel like you're going insane as Hongjoong spreads your legs, capturing a clear view of the mess. Making it even dirtier as he pulls out and spills his pleasure on your stomach.

"Fucking fuck me, holy fuck," you blubber as you pull your hands over your face with a sudden shyness, knowing that he's filming your gaping hole up close.

"Awe," Yunho coos, moving his hands from Mingi's head where he was rubbing it comfortingly. They gently pry your hands away, "don't be shy, Princess. He's just showing everyone how well you did. And you did do well, didn't you? Didn't she, Min?"

"S'good- so well," Mingi is only a few steps behind you in terms of how far gone he is. He'd never cum this much in this amount of time. If you were to tally it, which Yunho did; two times with him, three while fucking you, and three just now. He had naturally high libido, sure. But this was pushing it.

Why did he tally it? Well, he likes his Babies to be even. "Princess, how many times have you cum?"

"Uhhhhh," you trail on, unable to think a single thought other than how well used you felt.

"Six," Hongjoong helps you out as he sets down the phone, having been the keeper of your orgasms for the night. He rubs your wobbly legs softly, making you hum contentedly.

"Six," you parrot him, not even questioning it which makes him giggle.

"You got one more for us?" Yunho carefully moves, sitting by your sides as you stay slumped on Mingi's chest; both of you taking a well deserved breather.

"One more?" You think, or at least you try to. Your eyebrows press together as you try to and a pout forms on your lips.

"One more for your Daddy? For your Captain?" He cups your face lovingly, cradling it like a piece of fine china as you melt into his touch.

You look to Hongjoong, asking for guidance with your answer with just the glint of your eyes.

    His heart thuds at the soft look you have, completely at his mercy and trusting him with his next words. "You can handle one more, don't you think? You've earned it, little siren."

     Yunho carefully lifts you from Mingi's protesting form, wanting to hold you in his post-orgasmic bliss. He's always sleepy and clingy like no other. Especially after a marathon like this.

     He moves you like a fragile doll, settling you to be center on the bed and placing your head on the messy pillows. "There you go, Princess," he smiles as you cling to him, making him settle by your side. He rewraps his arms around you and drapes a leg over your hips; knowing you'll squirm.

     Hongjoong has lead Mingi to you, helping him lay on his stomach between your legs as his tired body protested. But his eyes lit up at the promise of licking you clean.

     "Hi, Princess," he whispers as his hands find your thighs.

     "Hey, Minnie," you return the dopey smile he has, "thanks."

     "For what?" He tilts his head, eyes on you even as Hongjoong crawls to your other side and mirrors Yunho.

     "You always eat me out so good," you admit with a breathless laugh, and the men smile. "I know you'll make me feel good, so thanks, Min. I love you."

     "I love you back, Princess."

     Yunho and Hongjoong both watch with smiles of their own, pleased with how soft and pliant they've made you both. So deep in your submissive minds that you're professing your love for one another as he's about to lick you clean of all four of your mixed juices. 

     You melt between the two of them as Mingi begins his slow laps at your aching heat, your hands searching for somewhere to go when Hongjoong gathers them in his own.

     "Good boy," Yunho calls down to him sweetly, spurring him on, "clean up our girl nice and softly. That's it."

     He flattens his tongue as he licks up all of the cum on your core and your stomach and your thighs and your hips. It's everywhere, and he makes sure to get every drop he can find on the surface of your skin before moving to your insides. He points his tongue, then. Scooping everything he can reach out and into his awaiting mouth.

    His nose presses against your overworked bundle of nerves and your world goes white before you know what's happening.

     Your legs are trembling as they fall over Mingi's back, knuckles discolored from the strength you hold Hongjoongs hands with, and drool — legitimate drool dribbling from the side of your mouth which Yunho licks up without a second thought.

    But you're oblivious to all of that, floating somewhere distant with your ears ringing and your vision coming back to you in blurry waves.

"Holy shit," Hongjoong gasps as your squirt absolutely soaks Mingi, watching in awe with Yunho; who looks completely star struck with hearts in his eyes. It's a sight to behold as your back arches into a perfect 'u' and your eyes flutter shut as your jaw slacks.

"Damn, Princess!" Mingi finally comes up from his near water-boarding, taking in a deep breath as he rubs your thighs, watching along with them as you slump. His hair is dripping with your arousal, droplets of it on his black masquerade mask; as well as all over his face and chest and... the ceiling. It's everywhere.

Hongjoong rubs your arms softly as he whispers, "you did so good, little siren." His only response is a weak little moan as you shift, making the men chuckle.

Mingi carefully crawls ontop of you. As he comes into your line of sight, Yunho does as well, giving you a view of all three of them.

"Am I- in a dream?" You string together your words on a base of moans and pants.

"Here, Babygirl," Yunho tenderly moves the mask up your face, patting your damp skin with a tissue, "catch your breath, in and out."

You're slowly coming back to your body with the help of each of them, your older boyfriend most specifically as he never once takes his eyes off you. Draping you in his gaze like a fuzzy and warm blanket in December.

Hongjoong strokes your head softly, humming a song to fill the silence as they patiently guide you back after your Earth-shattering orgasm.

Mingi is, well he's being Mingi, his head nuzzling your chest and sucking every so often, his eyes closed like he felt the same bliss you did.

"Mingi," you clear your throat, hands idly playing with Hongjoongs fingers.

"Yes, Princess?"

"Did you take a shower?"

A burst of laughter comes the man on your chest, and he hides his face between your breasts. Hongjoong giggles, squeezing your hand softly.

     You look to Yunho confused, a dazed and far off look still in your eyes. He laughs as he pushes back Mingis still dripping hair and smiles down at you, "no, Baby. That's your squirt."

"What?!"

━༻❁༺━

     After showers and kisses and many, many praises given to you and Mingi; it's well past one a.m.

   After being drug up to eat, you were back in the beds clean blankets. Which one of them changed the sheets or how they got them doesn't even cross your mind as you curl up on Mingi's side. You just want to cuddle and sleep.

     In your designated aftercare hoodie, a red Spider-man one you stole from Yunho many years ago, you look like a kitten that's in a queen sized blanket.

     Hongjoong crawls in next to you, a quiet yawn drowned out by the show that you and Mingi fell asleep watching. He notices your sleepy eyes peeking over at him and pauses, halfway under the blanket. "Sorry, is it okay if I-"

    "C'mere, Joong," you moan softly as you snuggle closer to Mingi, making room for him on your side of the bed. "Be big spoon, please." There's a bigger gap on Mingi's other side, where Yunho was laying as he held you both.

    He smiles as he scoots closer, pressing his chest against you and curling around you to become your big spoon. He wraps his arms around you and hums happily, nuzzling his head into your back. "You did amazing today, Princess."

    "Thanks," you hum back, tracing patterns on his arms, "you treated us all really nicely. I didn't... I didn't tell you this before, but I've never been with anyone but Yun and Min before."

    "Really?" He doesn't sound very surprised, probably because he knows how long you've been together, but still he had his doubts. That's why he was going easy on you at the beginning.

    "Yeah," you nod against Mingi's sleeping chest, "Yunnie was afraid I would be uncomfortable, but you made me feel safe; just like they do." He can hear you fighting your sleep, especially as his body warmth settles into your bones.

    "That makes me happy," he says simply. And there's no need for anymore words. The way he holds you says it all. The way you search out his hand as you fall asleep says it all.

    Your fingers peek out from the long sleeves, holding his hand as you fall back asleep, "night, Captain." 

     "Goodnight, my little siren." He rests his head against your back. One arm tucked under your head and his hand holding Mingi's shoulder as he stirs, the other draped over you and holding your hand; he falls asleep with a tranquility that he's never felt before.

     When Yunho comes out of the bathroom a few minutes later, he closes the door as quietly as possible; the last of you to shower as he insisted on taking care of everyone else first.

    He pauses in the little hall that connects the bedroom and the bathroom, leaning against the doorway as he takes in the scene infront of him.

     Cast in the light of the television, the three of you are snuggled up. A smile slowly takes over his face as he watches Hongjoong subconsciously comfort you in his sleep; rubbing your sore hip after you shift.

    He takes his phone from his pocket and snaps a picture, it's too precious of a scene not to.

     As he looks down at the photo, he can't help but think how well Hongjoong fits with you all. Like he's a puzzle piece carved to fit perfectly in your lives. All these months of getting to know one another... tonight solidified it.

    "Yunho?" He looks up quickly at the sound of Mingi's deep, sleep laden voice.

    "Yes?"

   "Come to bed," he rolls onto his side, pulling up your hoodie gently before hugging your head, a long leg draping all the way over you and Hongjoong.

    When Yunho slides into the space left for him by you all, he feels a great warmth in his heart.

    It was a good idea to start streaming, he thinks as he slots himself into the cuddle pile seamlessly.

━༻❁༺━

[airaviity]

When Y/N starts spending late nights at Halcyon to wait for her best friend, she never expects the charming bartender, San, to become her safe place. Between playful banter, soft moments, and a past she’s learning to heal from, she finds herself drawn into something tender, a little chaotic, and maybe—just maybe—worth falling for.

Pairing: Choi San x Reader

Trope: Friends to lovers, bartender AU, hurt/comfort, slow burn that turns soft and steamy

Genre: Romance, fluff, angst, smut, found family

Featuring: Protective but lovesick San, Reader with a shy streak and emotional growth, A chaotic supporting cast (ATEEZ), Wooyoung being a menace and endlessly flirting with Haneul, Soft kisses, playful teasing, and tender intimacy

⚠️ Trigger Warning: This story contains mentions of bullying (past, verbal/emotional), anxiety, panic attacks, and low self-esteem. There are also scenes of consensual sexual intimacy (soft smut). Reader discretion is advised.

Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2

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San leaned against the doorway to the staff room, a towel hanging loosely from his hand. He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but he’d been heading back to the bar when he caught the sound of your voice drifting softly from the corner where you sat with the others.

“You know…” you said, your tone thoughtful. “I don’t talk about this a lot, but this place—Halcyon—and all of you… you’ve been such a big part of me feeling normal again. Especially San. I can’t really explain it, but… I don’t know how I would’ve gotten through the past few months without him.”

San froze in place, the words settling heavily in his chest. There was a faint warmth in your voice, the kind that made something tighten deep in his ribs. But then you added softly, almost matter-of-factly, “He’s a really good friend. You all are. I’m lucky I met you.”

Friend.

The word echoed in his mind, hollow and heavy. He tried to swallow past the sudden lump in his throat, forcing his expression into something neutral as he lingered out of sight.

“San’s glad to have you around too, Y/N. Trust me,” Yunho said kindly, his voice carrying gentle sincerity.

Wooyoung, on the other hand, let out a quiet sigh once you excused yourself to the restroom. He leaned back against the counter, rubbing his neck. “She really doesn’t get it, huh?”

“Not yet,” Yunho replied, shaking his head with a small smile. “She’s still too focused on healing to even think about someone that way.”

Mingi’s voice was low but firm. “Don’t take it personally, San. It’s not because of you—it’s because of what she’s been through.”

San stayed silent, his eyes still fixed on the space where you’d been sitting. He didn’t know what hurt more—hearing that you never even considered being with him… or knowing he couldn’t fault you for it.

“She’ll come around,” Jongho said softly from his seat at the bar, surprising San with his quiet certainty. “If anyone can make her feel safe enough to love again, it’s you.”

San let out a slow breath, his shoulders slumping slightly. “I’m not going to push her. She deserves to take her time.”

Wooyoung gave him a sympathetic look. “Yeah… but man, it’s gotta suck to hear that.”

San’s lips curved into a faint, bittersweet smile. “It does. But I’d rather be her friend than nothing at all.”

You returned from the restroom moments later, smiling faintly as you rejoined the group. The guys all straightened, their faces adopting the easy, casual expressions of people who definitely hadn’t just been discussing your love life.

“Did I miss something?” you asked, sliding back onto your stool.

“Nothing,” Mingi said a little too quickly.

“Just talking about the weather,” Yunho added, nodding seriously.

You blinked, but before you could question them further, the door to the bar swung open and Haneul stepped inside, her ponytail swishing as she scanned the room.

“There you are!” she called with a grin. “Ready to go?”

You nodded, sliding off your stool and grabbing your bag. “Yeah, just let me say bye.”

As you hugged the guys goodbye, Wooyoung smirked and leaned toward Yunho, his voice dropping to a mischievous whisper. “You know… Haneul’s actually really hot.”

Yunho groaned audibly. “No. Don’t even start.”

“Please no,” Mingi muttered, dragging a hand down his face.

Jongho raised a brow at Wooyoung, his voice flat. “Do you enjoy making everyone else suffer?”

“What?” Wooyoung grinned unrepentantly. “I’m just saying. I might have to shoot my shot.”

San shook his head with a quiet sigh, but there was the faintest upward quirk of his lips as the others groaned in unison.

“Endless flirting,” Yunho muttered. “We’re never going to hear the end of it.”

As the door closed behind you and Haneul, the group let out a collective sigh, bracing themselves for whatever chaos Wooyoung’s newfound interest might unleash.

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It was Haneul’s day off, and the two of you were curled up on her couch, mugs of hot chocolate in hand as the autumn chill settled outside. The TV played a random rom-com in the background, but Haneul’s attention was firmly on you.

“So,” she said, tucking her legs underneath her. “Are you doing anything for Halloween?”

You shook your head, pulling your oversized sweater tighter around yourself. “Not really. I never… really celebrated it much after high school.”

Haneul’s eyes lit up mischievously. “Then it’s perfect. You should come to the Halloween party at Halcyon.”

“The bar’s throwing a party?” you asked cautiously.

“Kind of,” Haneul replied with a grin. “It’s a staff thing, but the people from the other shifts are coming too. No customers, just us. Costumes mandatory, drinks free, and Wooyoung is in charge of music—so it’s guaranteed chaos.”

You hesitated, chewing your lip. “I don’t know… I’m not really good with parties. What if I don’t fit in?”

“Y/N.” Haneul reached over to squeeze your hand. “You’ll be fine. Everyone loves you already, and I’ll be there the whole time. Plus…” She smirked. “It’s a chance to see San in costume.”

Your face warmed instantly, and you swatted her arm. “That’s not why I’d go.”

“Sure, sure,” she teased. “So… you’re in?”

You took a deep breath, forcing a small smile. “Yeah. Okay. I’ll go.”

“Good.” Haneul clapped her hands in delight. “Now we just need costumes.”

The afternoon of the party, you and Haneul stood in front of her full-length mirror as you got ready.

Haneul had gone all out, dressed in a sleek black bodysuit with a pair of cat ears perched perfectly in her hair. Her eyeliner was sharp enough to cut glass, and she’d even added a playful tail to complete the look.

“Sexy cat cliché?” she said with a wink. “Never fails.”

“You look amazing,” you admitted, eyes wide as she spun in a little circle.

“Thanks. Now let’s see you.”

You stepped out from behind the bathroom door, tugging nervously at the hem of your costume. You’d chosen something cute but slightly out of your comfort zone—a soft pastel bunny outfit with a short, flared skirt and a fitted corset-style bodice. The fabric hugged your curves in a way you weren’t used to, and the thigh-high stockings paired with delicate lace gloves added just a hint of flirtiness. A pair of bunny ears sat atop your head, and a small, fluffy tail completed the look.

Haneul let out a delighted gasp. “Oh my god, Y/N, that’s perfect.”

You hugged your arms around yourself self-consciously. “Isn’t it too much? I don’t usually wear stuff like this.”

“It’s adorable and a little sexy. Exactly what you needed,” Haneul said with a grin. “You’re going to stun everyone.” She smirked knowingly. “Especially San.”

“Han…” you groaned, rolling your eyes but unable to stop the small laugh that escaped.

But her teasing grin softened slightly as she watched you adjust your bunny ears. “Speaking of San… can I ask you something?”

You froze. “What?”

“What do you think about him? Really?”

You fiddled with the lace of your gloves, trying to play it off. “He’s… a good friend. He’s been there for me when I needed someone. That’s all.”

Haneul raised a brow and didn’t say a word, just staring at you like she could see straight through the flimsy defense.

With a sigh, you gave in, voice quiet. “Okay, fine. I think… I think he’s really handsome. And maybe… maybe I have a little crush.”

Haneul’s grin threatened to split her face as you rushed to add, “But it doesn’t matter. Someone like San doesn’t like women like me.”

“Y/N.” Haneul’s tone was unexpectedly serious now. “You have no idea how wrong you are about that.”

You gave her a weak smile, brushing her words off. “Let’s just get going before I lose my nerve.”

“Fine, but I’m not dropping this later,” she said, grabbing her purse. “The bar isn’t ready for us.”

You took a deep breath, willing your nerves to settle as you followed her out the door.

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San had been helping Yunho string up the last few fake cobwebs near the bar when the door creaked open. Laughter and music filled Halcyon’s staff-only Halloween party, and the guys were in various states of ridiculousness—Wooyoung in vampire fangs, Mingi wearing a banana costume that no one had asked for, and Jongho somehow pulling off a full suit of armor like it was no big deal.

But the second San glanced toward the door, he felt his breath catch.

You stepped in behind Haneul, clutching her arm with an almost shy smile. Haneul, dressed in her sleek black cat bodysuit and killer heels, looked every bit the confident queen she was. But you… you were something else entirely.

San’s eyes trailed over the pastel bunny outfit you wore—cute yet undeniably flirty. The corset bodice hugged your frame, the short skirt swished with every careful step you took, and the thigh-high stockings seemed to emphasize just how delicate you looked. Your fingers fiddled nervously with the lace gloves, and you glanced around like you weren’t sure you belonged there.

San couldn’t look away. He’d seen you in cozy sweaters, oversized t-shirts, and even his own clothes—but this? This was… new. His chest tightened, and a faint warmth crept up his neck. He only snapped out of it when Wooyoung let out a dramatic gasp from across the room.

“The future mother of my children has arrived!” Wooyoung declared, clutching his chest as he made a beeline for Haneul. “Haneul, you look so dangerously gorgeous I might faint.”

Haneul blinked, caught completely off guard as Wooyoung took her hand with an exaggerated bow. “What are you doing?” she asked, trying not to laugh.

“Admiring perfection,” Wooyoung replied smoothly. “Did it hurt when you fell from heaven, or was it just when you put on those ears?”

Yunho groaned loudly from the bar. “Oh no. He’s started already.”

Mingi buried his face in his hands. “We’re never going to survive this.”

Even Jongho shook his head with a muttered, “This is going to be painful.”

But San’s gaze had drifted back to you. You were laughing softly at Haneul’s flustered expression, your fingers still tugging at your skirt like you didn’t know how stunning you looked.

He quickly turned back to the bar, forcing himself to focus on stacking cups. Anything to keep from staring too long.

But his heart wouldn’t stop racing.

The second you stepped into Halcyon, your nerves flared. The warm glow of string lights and the low thrum of music made the bar feel unfamiliar, even though you’d been here countless times before. Everyone was laughing, drinks in hand, their costumes ranging from absurd to jaw-dropping.

Haneul strutted in beside you, oozing confidence in her sleek black cat bodysuit, and you tried to channel even a fraction of her energy as your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your skirt. You tugged at your bunny ears, wishing for a moment that you’d chosen something less attention-grabbing.

But the attention came anyway.

“Oh my god, Y/N?!” Mingi’s voice boomed from across the room. “You look adorable!”

“You’re so cute it’s unfair,” Yunho added with a grin, already making his way toward you.

“Dangerously cute,” Jongho said with surprising seriousness, his arms crossed like he was trying not to smile.

You felt your cheeks heat up as you laughed nervously. “Guys, stop. I’m not—”

“Yes, you are,” Haneul cut in, smirking as she gave your arm a squeeze. “Own it, sweetheart.”

Before you could respond, a sudden hush fell over your little corner of the bar. You followed the shift in attention and felt your breath catch.

San was there.

Dressed as a pirate.

The loose white shirt hung open just enough to reveal defined muscles and a glimpse of toned abs. A leather strap crossed his chest, and the black pants clung to strong thighs. The messy waves of his hair and the kohl smudged around his eyes added to the rugged look, making it impossible to look away.

Your mouth went dry. Oh no.

He noticed you then, his dark gaze locking with yours for a fraction of a second before you tore your eyes away, your face burning.

“Earth to Y/N,” Haneul teased softly beside you. “You’re staring.”

“I wasn’t—”

“Yes, you were.” She grinned. “And it’s okay. I mean, have you seen him?”

You groaned, hiding your face in your hands as the others chuckled, but your mind kept replaying the image of San in that pirate outfit.

Haneul grinned as she tugged you through the crowd toward a group of staff you didn’t recognize. “You haven’t met the others from the later shifts yet, have you? Let’s fix that.”

You smiled nervously, trying to ignore the flutter of anxiety in your stomach. “Do I look okay?”

“You look perfect,” Haneul assured you. “Trust me, they’re going to love you.”

She introduced you one by one to a handful of coworkers dressed in all manner of costumes—from vampires to superheroes. Everyone greeted you warmly, but one of them, a tall guy in a devil costume with small horns perched on his head, seemed particularly intrigued.

“I’m Minjae,” he said with a grin, his eyes raking over your outfit in a way that made you shift uncomfortably. “You’re Y/N, right? I’ve heard a lot about you from the others.”

You offered a small smile. “All good things, I hope.”

“The best,” he said, his tone dripping with charm. “So how come I haven’t seen you at any of these parties before?”

“Oh, I… don’t really go to parties much.” You fiddled with the hem of your skirt, missing the way his grin widened.

“Well, I’m glad you came tonight. Here—” He held out a cup of something dark red. “Let me get you a drink.”

“Oh, um… thanks, but I don’t really drink.”

“Come on,” Minjae pressed lightly, stepping a little closer. “One drink won’t hurt. It’ll help you loosen up.”

“I really don’t—”

“Y/N doesn’t like alcohol,” a familiar voice cut in sharply.

You turned to see San standing behind you, his dark eyes fixed on Minjae. He stepped forward, his hand closing gently but firmly around yours. “I’ll borrow her for a bit.”

Before you could process what was happening, San was leading you away through the crowd. You glanced back to see Minjae’s smirk falter as San’s hold on your hand tightened slightly.

The others watched the scene unfold from across the room. Yunho and Mingi exchanged glances, while Wooyoung let out a low whistle.

“Oh, he’s jealous,” Wooyoung whispered, barely able to hide his grin.

Jongho folded his arms, watching San’s back as he guided you away. “About time he did something.”

Meanwhile, your heart was pounding as San stopped near the quieter end of the bar, finally releasing your hand but keeping his eyes on yours.

San led you to the quieter end of the bar, his hand still warm from holding yours. The muffled bass of the music vibrated through the floor, but it felt distant here, the two of you tucked away in your own little pocket of calm.

“You okay?” San asked softly, his dark eyes scanning your face.

You nodded quickly, though your heart was still racing from his sudden intervention. “Yeah… thank you. I didn’t know how to get out of that.”

“You shouldn’t have to,” he said firmly. “Minjae was being pushy. I couldn’t just stand there.”

The way his jaw tightened made your stomach flip unexpectedly. You’d never had someone step in like that—so quietly, yet so unshakably protective.

“Still,” you murmured, fiddling with the edge of your lace glove, “thanks for… noticing.”

His expression softened, and for a moment it felt like the noise and laughter around you melted away. “You don’t have to thank me, Y/N. I’ll always notice.”

Your breath hitched slightly. There was something in the way he said it—low and sincere—that made your chest feel too tight.

You shifted your gaze, willing your thoughts to settle, but it was no use. You couldn’t stop the flicker of heat that ran through you every time your eyes landed on him—the pirate costume doing little to help as it clung to his frame, his shirt still open just enough to reveal the sculpted lines of his chest.

God, why am I even thinking about him like that? You scolded yourself. You’d never had these kinds of thoughts about anyone before, and now you couldn’t seem to stop. It was both thrilling and unsettling.

Later, after San had been pulled away by Jongho to help fix something with the music setup, you lingered at the bar with Haneul, trying to shake off your confusion. But your eyes kept darting toward him without your permission.

That’s when you saw her—a stunning woman in a tight red dress leaning close to San near the bar. She laughed, touching his arm as she whispered something, and he smirked in response. It wasn’t anything overtly intimate, but it made your stomach twist in a way you didn’t expect.

Two women standing nearby giggled behind their hands.

“Is that San with her?” one of them whispered.

“Yeah,” the other replied. “Honestly, I’m surprised he hasn’t left with someone yet. He’s not exactly the type to turn down attention.”

“You mean he…?”

“Mhm. Sleeps around a lot. Not that I blame anyone. Look at him.”

You quickly looked away, your hands gripping the edge of the bar a little too tightly. The tightness in your chest returned, though you tried to swallow it down.

“Hey,” Wooyoung said suddenly, appearing at your side. “Do you—” He paused. “Wait. You don’t drink. Sorry, that was dumb.”

You turned toward him with a strained smile. “Actually… maybe I will.”

His brows shot up in surprise. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “Just… one.”

Wooyoung didn’t question it further, but his eyes lingered on you with faint concern as he turned tooget one.

The alcohol hit you faster than you expected. It had been just one drink—a sweet, fruity cocktail that Wooyoung had slid across the bar with a wink. You hadn’t planned on drinking, but after seeing San with that stunning woman and overhearing those whispers about him, something inside you had shifted. Maybe you just wanted to forget for a little while.

As the glass emptied in your hand, a warm, dizzying fuzziness spread through you, loosening every taut string of anxiety in your chest. It wasn’t unpleasant—not at all. It was like someone had turned down the volume on your overthinking.

You set the glass down on the bar a little too firmly and giggled at the faint clink. “Oops.”

Wooyoung, leaning casually nearby, tilted his head at you with a grin. “You okay there, Y/N?”

“I feel… light,” you said dreamily, a giggle bubbling out of you. “Like… floaty. Is that normal?”

Haneul’s brows knitted together as she watched you sway slightly on the stool. “Wooyoung. What the hell did you give her?”

Wooyoung raised his hands, his expression one of mock offense. “Hey! It was just one of the fruity specials—she said she wanted it! I didn’t know she was a total lightweight.”

Haneul’s glare could have burned a hole through him. “She doesn’t drink, idiot. Her tolerance is zero.”

You waved your hand dismissively and slid off the stool, nearly stumbling as your heels hit the floor. “I’m fine,” you insisted with a laugh. “Actually… I feel amazing.”

“Y/N—” Haneul started, but you were already making your way to the dance floor, the music’s thumping bass calling to you like a siren song.

Wooyoung’s grin widened as he watched you go. “Okay, I take back my concern—this is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Haneul rounded on him with fire in her eyes. “If she so much as twists an ankle, you’re dead.”

You didn’t hear any of it. You were too busy spinning in a circle, the short skirt of your costume flaring slightly as you laughed. The song playing was one you vaguely recognized, and when the chorus hit, you threw your hands in the air and began singing loudly—off-key but with every ounce of enthusiasm your tipsy state could muster.

“THIS IS MY JAM!” you shouted to no one in particular, laughing so hard you nearly doubled over.

People nearby turned to watch, some clapping along as you shimmied awkwardly, your bunny ears bouncing with every movement. Someone even cheered, “Go bunny girl!” which only made you laugh harder.

Haneul groaned, rubbing her temples. “Oh my god. She’s singing.”

“Yeah, but look at her,” Wooyoung said, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “She’s having the time of her life. Let her live.”

Across the room, San had just returned from helping Jongho fix the playlist. He froze mid-step when his eyes landed on you. His brows furrowed first in surprise, then softened as he took in the sight of you twirling on the dance floor, cheeks flushed, eyes bright with uninhibited joy.

The other guys noticed too. Yunho chuckled softly, shaking his head. “She’s adorable… but she’s going to feel that later.”

Mingi grinned, though a trace of worry crossed his face. “She’s never like this. It’s kind of refreshing… but should we let her keep going?”

Jongho’s expression was more serious. “We should keep an eye on her. She’s way out of her element.”

You were too caught up in the music to notice the group’s concerned stares. And then—because it seemed like a brilliant idea at the time—you clambered up onto one of the low tables.

A chorus of surprised voices rose around you. Someone whistled. “Bunny girl’s taking over the party!”

You raised your arms dramatically. “THIS SONG IS EVERYTHING!” you shouted before launching into a carefree dance, hips swaying, bunny tail bouncing as your skirt flared dangerously with each spin.

Wooyoung’s jaw dropped, but his grin returned in an instant. “She’s a star. An absolute star.”

“She’s going to break her neck,” Haneul hissed, panic rising in her voice. “Why didn’t you stop her?!”

Across the room, San’s chest tightened at the sight of you on the table. His concern spiked as he noticed your slight wobble when the beat changed.

“That’s it,” he muttered, already moving.

Haneul saw him and let out a relieved sigh. “Thank god. Someone responsible.”

San weaved through the crowd with purposeful strides, his jaw set. The guys watched silently as he approached, Yunho murmuring under his breath, “Guess she picked the right pirate to rescue her.”

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San’s strides were quick and purposeful as he cut through the crowd, his eyes never leaving you. The soft thump of music faded in his ears, replaced by the loud pounding of his own heartbeat as he watched you swaying recklessly on the table.

The table wobbled slightly with every shift of your weight, its legs creaking under the strain. San’s jaw tightened. One wrong step and—

“Y/N!” he called, but your laugh drowned his voice out as you twirled again, the edge of your skirt catching on the breeze from a nearby fan. The crowd cheered, oblivious to the danger.

And then it happened.

Your heel caught on the edge of the table as it wobbled violently, sending you lurching forward with a small yelp. The sound froze San’s blood.

But he was there.

In one smooth motion, he reached the table, arms outstretched. Your fall was abrupt but short-lived as you tumbled straight into his waiting hold. He caught you effortlessly, one arm supporting your back, the other cradling your legs as if you weighed nothing.

The crowd gasped, then erupted into cheers and whistles.

“Like a scene out of a movie!” Wooyoung cackled from the bar.

But San didn’t hear them. His focus was entirely on you.

You blinked up at him, wide-eyed and flushed, your bunny ears slightly askew. “San…”

His chest rose and fell heavily as he looked down at you, his arms tightening just slightly. “What were you thinking?” he said, his voice low but steady, laced with a tension that sent shivers down your spine.

“I… I don’t know.” You let out a nervous giggle, though your face burned hotter under his intense gaze.

“Let’s get you down,” he murmured, already stepping back from the table and carrying you away from the center of the room.

“Whoa, pirate prince alert!” Yunho whispered to Mingi, watching as San moved through the crowd like you were the most precious thing in the world.

San ignored the teasing voices and kept his focus on you. Your head lolled slightly against his chest, the warmth of his arms and the rhythmic thud of his heartbeat making your own spin even faster.

He reached the quieter edge of the bar and set you gently on your feet, his hands lingering at your waist to steady you.

“You okay?” he asked, eyes scanning your face for any sign of discomfort.

You nodded, though your knees felt weak and your thoughts were a blur. “Yeah… thank you.”

“Stay here,” he said softly. “I’ll get you some water.”

But as he stepped away, you realized your heart wasn’t racing from the alcohol anymore—it was entirely because of him.

San led you carefully into the staff room, his hand steady at your back as you giggled softly to yourself. The moment the door closed behind you, the noise of the party dulled to a faint hum. The quiet felt comforting, wrapping around you like a warm blanket.

“Sit,” San said gently, guiding you toward the sofa.

You flopped down with a graceless sigh, leaning back and closing your eyes. The short skirt of your costume rode up dangerously high as you shifted, revealing more of your thighs than you intended.

San’s eyes flickered down instinctively before he quickly averted his gaze, heat creeping up his neck. Without a word, he grabbed a folded blanket from the armrest and draped it over your lap.

“Careful,” he murmured. “You’ll thank me later.”

Your eyes fluttered open, and you tilted your head to look at him with a dreamy smile. “You’re so thoughtful, San…”

He chuckled softly, crouching slightly so he was level with you. “Someone has to look out for you.”

You leaned forward suddenly, your finger poking his chest through the thin fabric of his pirate shirt. “I never realized…” you murmured, your words slightly slurred. “You’re so… strong.”

San stiffened at the unexpected touch. “Y/N—”

But you didn’t stop, your fingers trailing down to poke his arm and then sliding daringly to press at his thigh as you giggled. “Wow… solid. Do you work out a lot? These muscles are insane. Your thighs too—like rocks.”

San’s breath hitched, his face flushing crimson as he gently but firmly caught your wandering hand. “Alright, that’s enough exploring, bunny,” he said with a nervous laugh, trying to sound light even as his heart pounded.

You blinked at him with glassy, half-lidded eyes, your words tumbling out unfiltered. “But… you’re so handsome.”

San froze.

“Every time I see you, my stomach does these little flutters,” you mumbled softly. “Like there are… grasshoppers in there or something.”

San’s throat tightened as your gaze stayed on him, vulnerable and sweet in your drunken haze. He held your hand tighter, torn between wanting to smile and wanting to say something he probably shouldn’t.

“San…” you whispered again, hesitating. “Is it true? What they said about you… that you… sleep around a lot?”

He blinked, caught off guard by your question. For a moment he didn’t speak, then nodded slightly. “It’s true,” he admitted quietly. “I’ve… been with people casually before.”

Your lips parted as you stared at him, the faintest crease forming between your brows. “Would you…” Your voice lowered to a whisper. “Would you sleep with me too… if I asked?”

San’s heart thudded painfully as he searched your dazed expression, his hand still holding yours tightly. “Y/N…” he murmured, voice low, conflicted.

The silence between you stretched as San’s words lingered in the air. You shifted slightly under the blanket, your cheeks warm from more than just the alcohol. Sleep pulled at your limbs, but a small part of you clung to consciousness, embarrassed by what you’d said moments ago.

“That was… a stupid question,” you murmured sleepily, your voice muffled as you turned your head against the sofa cushion. “We’re just friends. You wouldn’t… not with someone like me. You’re way out of my league anyway.”

San’s chest tightened at your words. He stayed crouched beside you, his hand still holding yours. “Y/N…” he said softly, his tone almost chastising.

You peeked at him through heavy eyelids, trying to downplay the lump forming in your throat. “It’s fine. I didn’t mean it.”

But San’s thumb brushed lightly over your knuckles, and his expression held none of the rejection you’d braced for. Instead, his dark eyes were steady, almost vulnerable. “I wouldn’t sleep with you,” he said gently, watching the way your brows drew together faintly.

You nodded faintly, a sad little smile tugging at your lips. “I know. Makes sense…”

“Not because I don’t want to,” San added before you could retreat any further into yourself. His voice was low and warm, carrying a weight that made your sleepy brain focus despite the haze.

You blinked up at him, confusion flickering in your gaze. “Then… why?”

“Because you’re not like them,” he said simply. “You’re different. You’re… special. If it was with you, I wouldn’t want it to be casual. I’d want to take my time. You deserve more than a fleeting night, Y/N.”

The words sank into you slowly, wrapping around your chest like a soft ribbon. Your lips parted, but no response came—your exhaustion finally winning as your eyes drifted shut.

San watched as your breathing evened out, your hand still tucked in his larger one. He exhaled quietly, his thumb brushing over your fingers again as he murmured to the sleeping room, “You really have no idea what you do to me.”

He stayed there for a moment longer, then adjusted the blanket carefully around your legs before sitting on the floor beside the sofa, determined to stay close until you woke.

San quietly closed the door to the staff room, letting out a soft sigh as he ran a hand through his tousled hair. The muffled music of the party returned as he stepped back into the bar, but his mind stayed behind with you—curled up on the sofa, breathing softly in sleep.

He spotted the others gathered near the bar counter. Wooyoung, of course, was in the middle of trying to impress Haneul, leaning one elbow on the counter and flashing her his most exaggerated grin.

“You know, Haneul,” Wooyoung said smoothly, “if I were a cat, I’d use up all nine lives just to spend one with you.”

Haneul blinked at him, obviously caught between confusion and secondhand embarrassment. “What… does that even mean?”

“It means I’d risk everything for—”

“Oh my god,” Yunho groaned, dropping his face into his hands. “He’s still at it.”

Mingi leaned against the bar, sipping his drink with a long-suffering expression. “Does he ever stop?”

“Not unless you forcibly remove him,” Jongho muttered flatly.

San let out a small chuckle despite himself as he approached. Wooyoung noticed his arrival and straightened with a grin. “Ah, San! Back from rescuing your damsel in distress?”

Haneul perked up instantly at his words, concern flashing across her face. “How’s Y/N? Is she okay?”

“She’s sleeping,” San replied calmly, his tone soft. “I’m thinking about taking her to my apartment once she wakes up. She should sober up somewhere quiet.”

Haneul’s brows arched slightly, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. “You don’t have… any weird thoughts about that, do you?”

San’s dark eyes met hers, steady and unflinching. His answer came without hesitation. “No. I would never hurt her. She’s not just anyone to me.”

The others fell silent, Wooyoung’s grin faltering as San continued in the same calm, resolute tone.

“She’s the woman I actually love. I’d never risk that.”

A beat of stunned silence followed. Yunho’s eyes widened slightly. Mingi froze mid-sip. Even Jongho’s stoic expression cracked faintly in surprise.

Haneul blinked at him, caught completely off guard. “You… you love her?”

San nodded once, his lips pressing into a thin line. “I do.”

Then, without waiting for their reactions, he turned on his heel and headed back toward the staff room, his steps measured but his chest tight with unspoken emotions.

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

The group stood frozen in the wake of San’s words, his quiet confession hanging heavy in the air long after he disappeared back into the staff room.

Yunho was the first to find his voice. “Did… did San just say what I think he said?”

“He said he loves her,” Jongho confirmed simply, though his brows were raised slightly, a rare show of surprise crossing his usually calm face.

Mingi set his drink down a little too hard, wide-eyed. “Wait. San? Love? Are we talking about Choi San? The guy who’s always been… casual about women?”

Wooyoung let out a low whistle, leaning back against the counter with his arms crossed. “Well, shit. Didn’t see that coming.”

Haneul, however, was still staring at the door San had gone through, her lips parted slightly in shock. She replayed his steady voice in her head: She’s the woman I actually love.

She’d never seen San like that—so calm, so sure.

“You okay there, Haneul?” Wooyoung teased lightly, though there was an uncharacteristic softness in his tone.

She blinked, snapping out of it. “I… I just didn’t expect that. I mean, I knew he cared about her, but…”

“He’s serious,” Jongho said matter-of-factly.

“Dead serious,” Yunho agreed, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Honestly, I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at her.”

Wooyoung smirked, though it lacked his usual bite. “Guess the pirate’s found his treasure.”

Haneul crossed her arms, still processing. “If he hurts her…”

“He won’t,” Mingi said confidently. “Did you hear his voice? That wasn’t a guy playing around. That was…” He shook his head with a small laugh. “That was San laying his heart out.”

The group fell into a thoughtful silence, each of them realizing in their own way just how much had shifted in that single moment.

San shifted your weight in his arms as he carried you out of Halcyon, the night air cool against his flushed skin. Your head rested limply on his shoulder, your bunny ears slightly askew as soft breaths escaped your parted lips.

A few late-night pedestrians glanced curiously as he passed by, no doubt taking in the sight of a tall, broad-shouldered pirate carrying a drowsy bunny girl through the streets. One woman giggled into her hand; a group of young men snickered and muttered comments about “wild Halloween parties.”

San ignored them, his grip steady and protective. If anyone dared say something inappropriate, he wasn’t sure he could stop himself from glaring them into silence.

By the time he reached his apartment, you stirred faintly in his arms. “San…?” you murmured sleepily, your voice small.

“We’re at my place,” he said softly, nudging the door open with his foot. “Just for tonight. You need rest.”

He set you down gently on the edge of his bed, crouching to unbuckle your shoes. Your eyes fluttered open, still hazy from the alcohol, and you looked up at him with a faint smile. “You’re so nice…”

San’s lips curved in a soft, conflicted smile. “Come on. Let’s get you into something more comfortable.”

You nodded and pushed yourself up clumsily, fingers fumbling at the corset strings of your costume. “I’ll… change.”

San stood, about to turn away and give you privacy, but froze as you tugged clumsily at the laces. “Wait… San, can you… help me? I can’t reach the back.”

His throat went dry. “Uh… Y/N, maybe I should—”

“Please? Just the strings,” you said, peering over your shoulder at him with glassy, pleading eyes.

He hesitated, then stepped closer, his hands carefully finding the corset ties. He worked silently, his fingers deft but his mind anything but calm as he loosened the laces.

“There…” he murmured, stepping back once it was undone. “It should slip off now.”

You turned toward him then, clutching the loosened fabric to your chest with both hands. The smooth expanse of your bare shoulders and collarbone caught the dim light of his room, and San’s breath hitched at the sight of you standing in front of him, vulnerable yet unbothered in your drunken haze.

“I… I’ll wait outside,” he stammered, quickly averting his eyes.

But your hand shot out, catching his wrist. “Don’t go.”

His pulse thudded wildly. “Y/N—”

“Just stay. Please.” Your voice was quiet, almost shy, as you looked up at him with those sleep-heavy eyes.

You clutched the loosened corset to your chest, still standing in front of San as he shifted uncomfortably. There was a strange, giddy confidence thrumming in your veins—an intoxicating mix of the alcohol and the safety you felt with him.

Why am I acting like this? You wondered dimly, but the thought felt distant compared to the warmth in your stomach every time his dark eyes flicked nervously toward you.

“Don’t go,” you had said, your voice soft but insistent. You didn’t want him to leave. For some reason, you wanted him there—close enough to chase away the unfamiliar vulnerability curling in your chest.

But then, as the quiet stretched and his gaze faltered, the fog in your mind lifted slightly.

What am I doing?

Heat flooded your face as the realization hit. Your drunken courage cracked like fragile glass, leaving embarrassment in ist place. You stepped back hurriedly, clutching the corset tighter. “I-I’m sorry. That was… I shouldn’t have asked that. I don’t know why I—”

“Y/N.”

San’s voice was gentle, and when you hesitated, his tall frame lowered into a crouch before you. You froze as his warm fingers brushed your flushed cheek.

“Hey,” he said softly, his eyes searching yours. “It’s okay. You don’t need to apologize.”

You swallowed hard, your gaze darting anywhere but his. “But I—”

He shook his head faintly, his thumb tracing the edge of your jaw in a feather-light caress that sent shivers down your spine. “I’ll stay. But we need to talk tomorrow. When you’re clear-headed.”

You blinked at him, words catching in your throat as his steady gaze held you there—grounded, safe.

“Okay,” you whispered finally.

San gave you a small, reassuring smile and stood slowly, turning toward the door. “I’ll be just outside if you need me. Change into something comfortable and rest, okay?”

You nodded, clutching the blanket he’d left you tighter as he stepped out, closing the door behind him with quiet care.

As you sank onto the bed, heart pounding and face hot, you whispered into the empty room, “What am I doing…?”

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

The soft glow of morning sunlight seeped through the thin curtains, warming your face as you stirred. Your head throbbed faintly, a dull ache that made you wince as you cracked open one eye. For a moment, confusion swept over you—this wasn’t your room. The sheets smelled faintly of sandalwood and something distinctly San.

Oh no.

Memories of last night trickled in, slowly at first, then all at once—the party, the dancing, the table, San’s arms catching you, his gentle hands undoing your corset strings. And then… the words you’d mumbled, the boldness you didn’t recognize in yourself, the way he’d crouched beside you, eyes warm and soft.

A groan escaped your lips as you buried your face into the pillow. Why did I say those things? Why did I act like that?

Your phone buzzed on the nightstand, pulling you from your spiral. Blinking against the light, you grabbed it and squinted at the screen. A message from Haneul.

Haneul: Morning! Are you okay? Everything alright?

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard as guilt churned in your stomach. You typed, erased, and typed again before settling on a simple reply.

You: I’m okay. Just… a little embarrassed.

As you hit send, the weight of your thoughts settled heavier on your chest. You’d asked San things you’d never even dared to think sober. You’d clung to him, touched him like it meant nothing—like he wasn’t your closest friend. He must think I’m ridiculous… or worse.

A soft knock at the door made you jump.

“Y/N?” San’s voice carried gently through the wood. “Are you awake?”

Your heart leapt into your throat. “Y-Yeah,” you called back weakly, clutching the blanket tighter around you. “But… I-I don’t think I can look you in the face right now. I’m too embarrassed.”

There was a pause, then a faint chuckle from the other side. “That’s okay. You don’t have to yet.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, burying your burning face into your hands. How am I supposed to face him after everything?

San leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed as he watched the pan sizzle softly. The smell of eggs and toast filled the apartment, warm and comforting. He’d told you he was making breakfast after your muffled confession through the door—that you couldn’t look at him yet because of your embarrassment.

He didn’t mind waiting. He’d wait as long as you needed.

But when he heard the faint shuffle of your footsteps approaching, his heart gave an annoyingly eager flutter. He turned slightly, catching sight of you standing hesitantly in the doorway.

The morning light streamed through the curtains, spilling across your face and catching in your messy hair. Even with tired eyes and faint shadows beneath them, you looked—

Breathtaking.

He didn’t think it was possible, but his chest tightened even more as he took you in. There was a vulnerability to you he’d never seen before, but it didn’t make you look weak. If anything, it made you impossibly beautiful.

“Morning,” he said softly, his voice gentle so as not to startle you.

“Morning,” you murmured back, your fingers tugging nervously at the hem of the oversized t-shirt you’d changed into.

“You can sit,” San said with a small smile. “Breakfast’s almost ready.”

You nodded and slid into a chair, still avoiding his eyes. San plated the food and set it before you carefully, then sat opposite, his gaze lingering as he watched you pick at your toast.

The clink of cutlery and the faint hum of the refrigerator filled the silence until he finally spoke, his voice steady but quiet.

“Everything I said yesterday…” He paused, waiting until your eyes cautiously lifted to his. “I meant it. Every single word.”

Your lips parted slightly, your fingers tightening on your fork.

“You’re different, Y/N. Special. The most beautiful person I’ve ever laid eyes on. And not just because of how you look right now.” His lips curved faintly. “Though… even exhausted, you’re still stunning.”

You blinked at him, stunned, heat rushing to your cheeks as you stared down at your plate.

“I didn’t say any of that lightly,” San added softly. “You mean more to me than I think you realize.”

You shifted in your chair, your chest tight with a confusing swirl of emotions. But he wasn’t done.

“And last night… in the staff room.” His voice deepened slightly, though there was no heat in it—only sincerity. “When you asked me if I would’ve slept with you… I said no. But not because I didn’t want to.”

Your head snapped up, your breath catching in your throat.

San’s dark eyes held yours unwaveringly. “I said no because you weren’t in control of yourself. You weren’t ready. If I’d known you were… if I believed you were clear-headed and really wanted me…” He swallowed hard, his thumb rubbing absently at the edge of his plate. “I wouldn’t have hesitated to stay with you.”

The confession hung between you, heavy and intimate, the sound of your pounding heartbeat loud in your ears.

“But you deserve more than that,” San finished gently. “I don’t want to be another fleeting memory for you. I want…” He exhaled slowly. “I want to take my time with you. If you’ll let me.”

You stared at him, your hands curling slightly in your lap. Words tangled in your throat, but the warmth blooming in your chest felt undeniable.

San’s voice softened further, his eyes searching yours. “I’ve fallen for you, Y/N. From the first moment you stepped foot in the bar… I couldn’t take my eyes off you. And it hasn’t changed since. I’ve liked you for 8 months now and with each day I just liked you more and more.”

Your fork rested idly on your plate as San’s words replayed in your head over and over again. I’ve fallen for you, Y/N. From the first moment you stepped foot in the bar… I couldn’t take my eyes off you.

Your chest felt tight, your thoughts spinning in a whirlwind of disbelief and longing. You forced yourself to take a shaky breath, though it did little to steady the storm inside you.

Why me?

You stared down at your hands, knuckles pale from how tightly you gripped the fabric of your oversized t-shirt. Why would someone like him—so confident, so attractive, so perfect—fall for someone like me? I’m nothing like the women who flirted with him. They’re bold and beautiful, the kind of people who turn heads without even trying. I’m… just me.

San seemed to sense your spiral, his chair scraping lightly as he stood. He moved slowly toward you, his expression calm but unreadable. “You’re thinking too much again,” he said softly.

You looked up, your lips parting slightly as he crouched in front of you, his warm hand rising to brush gently against your cheek.

“San…” you whispered, overwhelmed.

He gave you a small, reassuring smile. “You’re cute in your own way, Y/N. I like cute things. I like you.”

Your breath caught as his thumb stroked along your jaw. “I would be yours,” he murmured, his voice low but steady. “If you’ll take me.”

Tears pricked at your eyes as all your insecurities came tumbling out in a rush. “San… I don’t know if I can do this. I’m awkward. I overthink everything. I shut down when things get too emotional. I don’t even know if I’m… good at relationships. What if I’m not enough for you?”

His hand stilled on your face, and then he let out a quiet laugh—warm, soft, unshakable.

“I don’t care,” he said simply. “None of that matters to me. We’ll figure it out together. You and me. That’s all I need.”

Your throat tightened, and you couldn’t stop the tear that slipped down your cheek. San brushed it away with his thumb, his touch as gentle as his gaze.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his forehead nearly resting against yours now. “You’re already enough.”

For a moment, the world felt still. San’s thumb brushed away the tear on your cheek, his forehead so close to yours you could feel the warmth of his breath. Your chest ached, but not from fear anymore—it was from the steady, quiet longing in his eyes.

You swallowed hard, fingers twisting in your lap. “San… I don’t know how to do this. But… I want to try. With you.”

His eyes widened slightly, and then a smile—soft, unguarded, and impossibly beautiful—spread across his face. Relief washed over his features as he gently lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to your knuckles.

“You have no idea how happy that makes me,” he murmured against your skin.

Your breath hitched at the warmth of his lips on your hand, and for the first time that morning, a shy smile tugged at your lips.

San straightened slightly but didn’t let go of your hand. “How about we have a lazy morning? I’ll make tea, we’ll watch a movie, and you don’t have to think about anything except which snack you want first.”

You let out a small laugh, tension easing from your shoulders. “That… sounds nice.”

A little while later, you found yourself curled up on San’s couch with a soft blanket draped over your legs. A random movie played on the screen, though your mind barely registered it. San sat beside you, his fingers still entwined with yours, thumb stroking lightly over your knuckles.

You tried to focus on the film, but your heart wouldn’t settle. The warmth of his hand, his nearness, the tender way he looked at you whenever your eyes met—it all left your chest fluttering wildly.

“Y/N?” San asked softly, noticing how quiet you’d grown. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, then hesitated. “I… I want to try something. But I’m nervous.”

San tilted his head, curiosity sparking in his dark eyes. “What is it?”

You took a shaky breath, summoning every ounce of courage as you turned to face him. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire. “This.”

And before your nerves could convince you otherwise, you leaned in and pressed a soft, tentative kiss to his lips.

San froze for a split second, then melted into the touch, his free hand rising slightly as if to cup your face but stopping just shy, not wanting to startle you. You felt the warmth of his breath as he kissed you back carefully, his lips gentle but sure.

When you pulled back, your eyes wide and face flushed, his lips curved into a slow, awed smile.

But then, without meaning to, you leaned in again—hungrier this time. San’s breath hitched as your lips pressed against his more firmly, and his hand finally cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing tenderly along your skin.

You sighed softly into the kiss, your nerves giving way to something deeper, a longing that had been growing all along. As your confidence built, you shifted closer, your fingers finding his shoulders, then cradling his face as your lips moved against his with more insistence.

“I really… really like kissing you,” you whispered shyly against his mouth, your words warm and shaky.

San’s eyes fluttered shut at your confession, his thumb stroking your jaw as his own kiss grew slightly more intense, though still reverent. “God, Y/N…” he breathed, his voice low and full of awe. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

You kissed him again, deeper this time, your fingers sliding into his hair. San let out a soft groan, his hand resting against the small of your back as if to keep you close without pulling you too far in.

The heat between you was undeniable now, but still wrapped in a tenderness that made your chest ache in the best way.

The kisses grew deeper, slower, and somehow more consuming. You felt yourself melting into San’s warmth, the steady press of his hand at your back making you feel anchored and wanted in a way that made your head spin.

Then, without thinking, you shifted in his lap, straddling him. You could feel his thighs tense beneath you, his hands still resting lightly at your hips as though he didn’t trust himself to pull you closer.

Your heart pounded wildly as you moved your lips against his with growing confidence, testing your own limits and his. The heat in your cheeks had nothing to do with embarrassment now—it was the raw ache of wanting more, even if you didn’t know exactly what more meant yet.

When you shifted your weight slightly, you felt it—him. Hard against your thigh. You froze for just a second, wide-eyed, then flushed even deeper.

San let out a shaky breath, his ears tinged red as his hands gripped your hips reflexively. “Y/N…” His voice was soft but laced with strain. “We… don’t have to—”

But something bold and unrecognizable flickered in your chest. “I-I know,” you whispered, your hips moving slightly, experimentally. A soft gasp left you at the friction, and San groaned low in his throat, his fingers digging just slightly into your sides as if to hold himself back.

“God, Y/N…” he murmured, his voice thick. “You’re… you’re going to drive me crazy.”

You buried your face in the crook of his neck for a moment, too flustered to look at him, but you couldn’t seem to stop the slow roll of your hips as curiosity and heat tangled inside you.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into me,” you admitted in a whisper, your lips brushing his skin. “But I… I like this. I like you.”

San’s hands slid up your sides gently, one settling against your jaw to tilt your face up so he could see your expression. His eyes were dark, but there was no rush in them, only awe and a trembling kind of restraint.

“You’re perfect,” he said, his thumb stroking your cheek. “But we’ll stop whenever you want, okay?”

You nodded faintly, and when he kissed you again, it was slower this time—like he was trying to memorize the shape of your mouth, every sigh and shiver you gave him. His lips trailed briefly to your jaw, then back to meet yours as his hands kept you steady on his lap.

The moment stayed tender, even as the heat between you flared. Neither of you needed to go further. This was enough—for now.

The heat of the moment eventually faded, replaced by a tender stillness that felt heavier than the quietest words. You stayed curled in San’s lap, your legs folded at his sides, head tucked beneath his chin as his arms held you securely against him. The rise and fall of his chest was soothing, and his heartbeat beneath your ear settled your racing thoughts. His fingers traced lazy, feather-light circles on your back that sent small shivers up your spine.

“Better?” he murmured, his lips brushing your hair.

You nodded, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah… this feels really nice.”

“Good,” he whispered, his voice low and warm. You felt him press a soft kiss against your temple, his hold around you tightening slightly. “I could stay like this forever.”

You let out a quiet laugh, fingers curling into his shirt as if to keep him close. “Forever’s a long time.”

“I know,” San said softly, his thumb stroking soothingly along your arm. “But I mean it.”

The movie’s muffled dialogue filled the background, neither of you paying it any attention. You felt a comforting weight settle over your chest, your earlier nerves replaced by a deep sense of safety. Your eyes grew heavy, and you let them drift shut for a moment, savoring the warmth of him, the quiet of his apartment, and the thought that maybe, just maybe, this was the beginning of something you wanted to last.

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

The next afternoon found you sitting across from Haneul at your favorite café, the warm smell of roasted coffee beans filling the air. A steaming cup of tea sat between your hands, your fingers tracing the rim absentmindedly as you tried to find the right words.

Haneul, however, was having none of your hesitation. “Alright, out with it,” she said, leaning in, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “You’ve been smiling like an idiot since you sat down. What happened with San?”

Your cheeks flamed instantly, and you dropped your gaze to your tea. “We… kissed.”

Haneul’s jaw dropped, then she let out an excited squeal that made a few people at neighboring tables glance over. “You kissed?! Oh my god, Y/N!”

“Han, not so loud!” you hissed, your hands flying up in embarrassment.

She leaned closer, lowering her voice but her grin no less wide. “Okay, okay. But you have to tell me everything. How did it happen? Did he kiss you first? Did you—wait, was it good?”

Your face felt like it was on fire as you fiddled with your sleeve. “It was… really good. I kissed him first. I just… I don’t even know what came over me.”

Haneul’s grin softened as she studied your flustered expression. “And?”

“And we cuddled after,” you admitted, a shy smile tugging at your lips. “He was so gentle, Han. Like he didn’t want to rush anything.”

Haneul rested her chin in her hands, her eyes twinkling. “You like him.”

“I do,” you whispered. “I really, really do.”

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

Meanwhile, at Halcyon, San leaned against the bar, idly polishing glasses as the slow lull of the afternoon shift surrounded him. His lips curved faintly, a warmth lingering in his chest that had nothing to do with the faint hum of music playing overhead.

Wooyoung slid into a stool opposite him, a grin already forming. “You’re smiling like you’ve just won the lottery.”

San raised an eyebrow. “Am I?”

“Don’t play dumb,” Mingi said, joining him with Yunho not far behind. “Something happened. You’re glowing.”

San sighed, setting down the glass and leaning on the counter. “She kissed me.”

Yunho’s eyes widened. “Y/N?”

“Yeah.” A soft smile crept across San’s face as he recalled the feel of your lips, your warmth pressed close to him. “And then she just… stayed with me. No pressure. No expectations. Just her.”

Wooyoung whistled low. “Man, you’ve got it bad.”

“I do,” San admitted without hesitation, his voice almost dreamy. “She’s… everything. More than I ever thought I wanted.”

Mingi blinked, a rare grin spreading across his face. “Wow. You sound like a guy in love.”

“Maybe because I am,” San said softly, his thumb tracing the wood grain of the counter absently, lost in thoughts of you.

The others exchanged knowing glances but didn’t tease him further. Not this time. Instead, they watched their friend’s softened expression, the way his eyes lit up every time your name crossed his mind, and they understood.

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

A month later, Halcyon thrummed with ist usual Friday night energy. Glasses clinked, conversations overlapped in gentle waves, and the glow of string lights bathed the bar in a warm, golden hue. Behind the counter, San polished the same glass for what must have been the tenth time, his lips tugging downward in a pout he wasn’t even trying to hide.

“Someone’s distracted tonight,” Yunho remarked, smirking as he stacked a tray of clean tumblers.

“Distracted?” Wooyoung leaned lazily against the bar, his grin widening. “He’s like a lovesick teenager. Look at him. Pouting because his girl’s not here yet.”

San didn’t look up from the glass. “She said she’d be here at seven.”

Mingi groaned playfully from his perch on a barstool. “It’s 7:05, San. You’re acting like she’s an hour late.”

“She’s probably just waiting for the bus or something,” Jongho said flatly, though there was the faintest trace of amusement in his eyes. “Relax.”

San finally set the glass down with a sigh and checked his phone again, scrolling to your last message for the hundredth time.

On my way. Can’t wait to see you.

His chest ached at the thought. She’s coming. Just a few more minutes.

Wooyoung clicked his tongue. “God, he’s hopeless. Look at those puppy eyes.”

“I’ve never seen him like this,” Mingi added. “Remember when he was cool and mysterious?”

“Barely,” Yunho said with a chuckle. “This version’s kinda cute, though.”

San ignored them all, his heart leaping when the bell above the door chimed. His head snapped up so fast it startled Mingi. The second he saw you step inside, wrapped in your favorite coat and scarf, cheeks flushed from the chill, his pout melted instantly.

His entire face lit up like the sun breaking through clouds. “Y/N!”

You spotted him instantly, your shy smile growing when his grin widened. He all but bounded out from behind the bar, his excitement obvious in every step.

Wooyoung let out an exaggerated groan. “Here we go. Puppy mode: fully activated.”

Mingi laughed into his drink. “I swear, he’s got one speed when it comes to her—maximum.”

Even Jongho cracked a small smile. “It’s ridiculous… but also kind of sweet.”

San didn’t hear a word of their teasing. He reached you in seconds, his hands hovering like he wasn’t sure whether to hug you or grab your hands. “You’re here.”

You laughed softly, your heart skipping as his gaze swept over you like you were the only person in the room. “Sorry I’m a few minutes late. Bus was slow.”

“Too long,” he murmured, his voice low and warm. “I missed you.”

“San, it’s only been a day.”

“Still too long,” he said without hesitation, brushing his fingers against yours before gently tugging you toward the bar. “Come on, I saved your favorite spot.”

As he guided you past his friends, Wooyoung couldn’t resist calling out, “Hey, San! Don’t forget we’re here too!”

“Yeah,” Yunho added with a grin. “Try not to melt into a puddle in front of us.”

San only shot them a grin over his shoulder, completely unbothered. “Sorry, can’t promise that.”

You bit your lip to hide your smile as San pulled out a stool for you, his hand lingering on your back even after you sat down. He leaned in, his voice dropping just for you. “Can I get you your usual? Or… should I make you something special?”

Your cheeks warmed as you nodded. “Something special.”

“Anything for you.” His smile softened, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as he reluctantly pulled away to start your drink.

Wooyoung sighed dramatically from across the counter. “We’re never getting our cool bartender back, are we?”

Yunho grinned. “Nope. He’s officially gone full soft boyfriend mode.”

And as San glanced back at you with that same lovesick look in his eyes, the others couldn’t even argue.

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

The walk home felt like a dream San didn’t want to wake from. The city was quiet around you, but his heart wasn’t—beating fast every time your fingers brushed his, every time you glanced up at him with that shy little smile.

“Your hands are cold,” he murmured softly, slipping his fingers between yours as if he’d been waiting for an excuse.

“They’re not that bad,” you replied, though you didn’t pull away.

“They are,” he said, bringing your joined hands up to his lips. He pressed a kiss to your knuckles, his warm breath ghosting over your skin. “I’ll fix it.”

You ducked your head, cheeks pink, and San smiled to himself. God, he adored you. Every little nervous laugh, every glance that lingered a second too long—it made his chest tighten in the best way.

When the wind picked up, he wrapped his arm around your shoulders, tucking you into his side. “Almost there,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to your temple. But secretly, he wished the walk would last forever.

By the time the door clicked shut behind you, San felt like a balloon about to burst from how much he wanted to hold you. He toed off his shoes and tugged you gently toward the couch.

“Sit,” he said with a grin, then flopped down beside you, reaching out to pull you into his lap.

“San!” you laughed as he wrapped his arms around you like a giant teddy bear, his face burying into your shoulder.

“Mine now,” he muttered, voice muffled against your sweater.

“You’re such a baby.” You tried to sound exasperated, but your voice softened, your hand settling on his hair.

“Yeah,” he admitted shamelessly. “But I’m your baby, so deal with it.”

You let out a quiet laugh, leaning back enough to meet his eyes. He looked so happy—eyes crinkled, cheeks faintly flushed—and before you could overthink, you kissed him.

It was soft at first, your lips tentative, but the way his hands flexed against your hips made heat pool low in your stomach. He kissed you back carefully, like he didn’t want to rush, but his hold on you tightened slightly when you pressed a little closer.

“You okay?” he murmured against your lips, his thumb brushing your cheek.

You nodded. “Yeah. I… I want to try something.”

“Anything.” His voice was low, rough with affection.

This time when you kissed him, it was deeper, more certain. You felt his breath hitch as your hands slid to his shoulders, then into his hair. When you shifted to straddle his lap, his fingers gripped your hips instinctively, though he forced himself to stay still, to let you set the pace.

He could feel how fast his heart was pounding when your body pressed closer, your sighs soft and warm against his mouth.

“God, Y/N…” he whispered as you kissed him again, hungrier now. “You’re… you’re driving me insane.”

You pulled back slightly, flushed and breathing hard. “I trust you, San. I really do. And… I feel safe with you. I want to take the next step. With you.”

For a moment, he forgot how to breathe. He stared at you, his chest aching with emotion. “You… you’re sure?”

“I’m sure,” you said softly. “I want this.”

San’s hands cupped your face, his thumb stroking over your flushed skin. “You have no idea how much this means to me,” he murmured, kissing you with a reverence that made your heart stutter.

His hands moved to your sweater, pausing. “Can I?”

“Yes.”

He pulled it over your head carefully, his breath catching as his eyes swept over you. “You’re beautiful,” he said softly, almost like he couldn’t believe you were real.

Your fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, and he chuckled lowly, helping you with the last few before shrugging it off. You laid your hands on his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your palms as his lips found yours again.

San took his time. His kisses trailed to your jaw, down your neck, leaving goosebumps in their wake. His hands slid over your sides, his thumbs tracing circles that made your breath hitch. “Tell me if it’s too much,” he whispered. “We’ll stop whenever you want.”

“I don’t want to stop,” you whispered back, your fingers tugging gently at his hair.

When he finally eased you down onto the couch cushions, his body settled between your legs, he paused again, his forehead resting against yours. “Y/N… last chance. Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” you breathed, your hands framing his face. “I want you, San.”

“Then I’m yours.”

The way he undressed you was tender, almost reverent. Every kiss, every caress was slow, his eyes never leaving yours as he whispered praise—“You’re so perfect… I’ve got you… You’re safe with me.”

When he finally pressed into you, it was careful and patient, his breath hitching as he felt you tense slightly. “You okay?” he murmured, brushing your hair back.

“Yes… please don’t stop.”

San’s hand found yours, fingers entwining as he moved slowly, his forehead resting against yours. He kissed you deeply, every movement unhurried, savoring the soft sounds you made and the way your fingers clung to his shoulders.

“You feel… incredible,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “You’re everything, Y/N.”

The heat built between you, slow and steady, until you both trembled with the effort to hold back. When you finally fell apart together, clinging to him like he was your lifeline, San held you through every shiver, pressing kisses to your cheeks, your temple, your hair.

Afterwards, he stayed close, his arms wrapped tight around you as you lay together on the couch.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered against your hair.

You buried your face in his chest, your voice small but sure. “Me neither.”

San smiled to himself, brushing his thumb over your knuckles where your hands were still entwined. He didn’t know how he’d gotten this lucky, but he swore he’d never take it for granted.

San woke first.

The soft morning light spilled through the curtains, casting a golden glow over the small tangle of blankets on his couch. He tilted his head slightly to look down at you, still curled against his chest. Your hair was a chaotic mess—wild strands sticking up in every direction—and your cheek was squished adorably against his shirt, leaving a faint damp spot where you’d drooled in your sleep.

His lips curved into a lazy, lovesick smile. God, he loved you. Even like this. Especially like this.

“You’re so cute,” he whispered, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “Even with bedhead and murder breath.”

“Mmmph,” you groaned, burying your face deeper into his chest. Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt like you were trying to fuse with him. “Don’t talk. Too early.”

San chuckled, his chest rumbling beneath you. “You know you drool, right? Like, actual puddle status.”

That earned him a half-hearted swat to his chest. “Shut up,” you mumbled.

“Never.” He pressed a soft kiss to the crown of your head, tightening his arms around you. “I could stay like this forever.”

“Five more minutes,” you muttered sleepily.

“You said that ten minutes ago.”

“Five. More.”

San just laughed and rested his chin on your head, perfectly content to let you steal as many “five more minutes” as you wanted.

Later that day, Halcyon was alive with ist usual chatter and clinking glasses. The second the door chimed and you and San walked in hand-in-hand, all conversation at the bar seemed to pause.

“Well, well, well,” Wooyoung drawled from behind the counter, leaning dramatically on his elbows. “If it isn’t the human koala couple.”

San grinned, completely unbothered. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“It is a bad thing,” Jongho deadpanned, though there was the faintest trace of amusement in his eyes. “For our eyesight.”

Yunho smirked. “Should we just set up a private booth for you two? Maybe bring out a sign that says ‘Reserved for Extreme PDA.’”

You laughed nervously, cheeks heating as San led you to your usual spot. But he wasn’t fazed in the slightest. If anything, he looked even more smug as he pulled out your chair with exaggerated gentleness and kissed your cheek before sitting down.

“God, they’re insufferable,” Mingi muttered under his breath, pretending to gag as San draped an arm casually over your shoulders.

But Wooyoung’s attention had already shifted—straight to Haneul, who had just walked in carrying a tray of supplies for the bar. His eyes lit up like a predator spotting ist prey.

“Haneul! My favorite goddess of the night,” he announced dramatically, vaulting over the counter with surprising grace. He landed in front of her and took her free hand, pressing an exaggerated kiss to her knuckles. “What miracle must I perform today to earn your heart?”

Haneul stared at him, unimpressed. “You can start by not breathing my air.”

The guys collectively groaned.

“Oh my god,” Yunho muttered. “Here we go again.”

“Seriously, do we have to witness this every shift?” Mingi said, hiding his face in his hands.

But Wooyoung was undeterred. “Your words wound me, my feline queen.” He clutched his chest as if struck. “But love is patient. I shall persevere.”

“Love is imaginary in your case,” Haneul retorted, though her ears had gone faintly pink.

“Cute,” San murmured in your ear, grinning as you stifled a laugh.

Wooyoung shot him a look. “Hey! Not everyone can be disgusting and couple-y like you two!”

“You’re just jealous,” San replied, feeding you a bite of his dessert with unashamed fondness.

Wooyoung gagged dramatically. “I’m filing a complaint. Against all of you.”

Haneul rolled her eyes and sidestepped Wooyoung, but he followed with his hands clasped as if in prayer. “Haneul, give me one chance. Just one. I promise I’ll make you laugh.”

“You’re making me nauseous. That’s close, right?” she quipped as she disappeared into the back.

The table burst into laughter as Wooyoung groaned loudly.

“She’ll come around,” he declared, plopping back onto a barstool. “Mark my words.”

San chuckled and turned back to you, resting his forehead against yours. “Ignore them. You’re all I see.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you said between giggles.

“Maybe.” He kissed your nose, then your cheek, then finally your lips, ignoring the chorus of groans behind him. “But you’re stuck with me now, bunny.”

You smiled, snuggling closer into his side. “Guess I am.”

And as Wooyoung continued his theatrical pining and the others rolled their eyes in mock disgust, San only pulled you closer, perfectly content in his little bubble with you.

Not even his friends’ teasing could ruin this.

Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2

💌 Author’s Note

Thank you so much for reading this far! This story has been such a soft and special one for me to write, and I’m so happy you’re here for the journey. ✨ I’d love to hear what you’d like to see next—whether it’s more soft moments, chaos with the friend group, or something entirely new. Drop your thoughts and suggestions in the comments or send me an ask. Your ideas always inspire me! 💕