HE'S GOT A RING ON HIS FINGER

HE'S GOT A RING ON HIS FINGER

GOJO さとる + fem!reader

A married dilf Gojo wants you to have his babies! He might not be married for much longer though

Warnings : 🔞 minors do not read/interact : smut/18+ content : infidelity, dilf!Gojo, cheating kink, reader cheating on bf, breeding kink, unprotected sex, daddy kink, dirty talk

Gojo Satoru has a ring on his finger.

You're reminded of all the shit his wife has said to you when you feel the cool metal of his ring against your skin... as he's pinning your wrists together above your head and stuffing his nasty, cheating cock into you from behind while his wife is god knows where and his kids are at a friend's sleepover.

His friends like you. His kids like you. His marriage is falling apart. Gojo wants to have another baby but his wife doesn't, and he happened to come across you — who has a filthy breeding kink, who he met at some soccer event long ago and now has snaked into his home to become a close family friend.

"Y'know my kids love it when you visit. Wanna be their mommy? Yeah? How about you gimme 'nother one... let me knock you up." and he's saying this before he's inside you, his words turn filthier when his fat cock is getting milked by your pussy.

His cockhead is stroking at your G-spot when he says, "Please... jus'... j-jus' take my fucking seed like a good girl, yeah? Let me get that cheatin' pussy pregnant."

He grunts and keeps pounding away at your cunt like he's a starved man, while you're babbling about how good it feels but at the same time he needs to hurry up, because your boyfriend is texting you asking where the hell you are.

So he grabs your phone and tosses it out of sight so you can't see your boy's notifications anymore. It pissed Gojo off, how dare he interrupt you and him? How dare you bother returning to him when you know no one fills your pussy quite like a man who's already fucked babies into another one. As if your boyfriend could compete.

Gojo's face turns sour, he glares at the place where you two connect; your sloppy, squelching little pussy. He's got that kitty creaming and freaking out on his cock.

"You know your boyfriend could never fuck you like I do... you n-need an older man to treat you right, don't you? F-fuck... ah, god baby you're squeezing my cock so perfectly... you're gonna milk out my cum. Fuck. Stay right there and let me fill you. You want daddies babies, don't you? Tell me... tell me you want it. Tell me you want my babies."

As if you could squirm when he's fucked you out on his bed for well over two hours now.

All he needs to tip over the edge is for you to say, "Yes daddy! Gimme your babies!"

And then he's groaning loudly, rolling his eyes back and feeling his whole body shudder as he dumps a fat, sticky load of baby batter deep inside your quivering hole. He stuffs himself as deep as he possibly can so that you feel every inch of that nasty, cheating cock. The skin at the base wrinkles up as his balls squish against your clit.

He's heaving and panting and gasping with you. You're thinking about how his cock is so much bigger than your boyfriend's, and he's thinking about how much tighter your pussy is than his wife's.

Gojo's gone silent, smirkingly admiring how good you look with that afterglow on your face. He's imagining how you'll look with that pregnancy glow one day.

You're gonna look so pretty when you're pregnant with my kids.

He slides his cock out, kisses your shoulder and massages your numb legs.

Gojo's phone goes off, and you ask who it is. He takes one look at the caller ID, and a look at his seed bubbling and spilling out your pussy hole, and says;

"Oh. It's just my future ex-wife."

© arminsumi

I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

This is fictional work.

Room for two (Mingi)

You should know wearing a skirt around Mingi activates the feral part of his brain.

@voicesinmyhead-rc :I'm 100% Mingi's girl and I neeeeeeeeeed to be fed!

Rough Mingi, Size Kink, Voice Kink, Voyerism, Seonghwa is invited too, but Mingi is the star ♥️

Thanks for your request <3 and hopefully it’s to your liking.

Genre; smut

Pairing; Mingi ft Seonghwa X Fem!Reader

Today Mingi was more riled up than usual, pushing you down onto the bed and practically ripping the shirt off your chest. ‘’Mingi why are you being so aggressive?” He growls and parts your legs open “I saw what you were doing, bending slightly over on the table to talk to hongjoong and Wooyoung..your ass was practically out in that skirt.” You whine at the feeling of him gripping your inner thighs and rubbing a thumb over your clothed slit-you were obviously already wet. “Such a slut, you love being seen huh? Love teasin me n’ then playing innocent hm?” You didn’t answer which caused him to slightly hold you over on your side, his hand colliding down with your ass. It stung and had you biting down hard on your lower lip, but it felt so good. “Answer me slut, you like it don’t you? Want the whole world to see what you’ve got underneath that skirt.” When you nodded Mingi clenched his teeth hard, he gets off the bed and stands dropping his pants down to the floor “get over here,” his voice is deep so fucking deep and vibrates through your body, you loved it when he was this pissed. Getting off the bed Mingi demands for you to drop down to your knees, his hand grabbing a handful of your hair “now put that pretty mouth of yours to good work.” He’s hard, cock pressed against his boxers that are already stained with precum. You slip them down and he pushes your face closer “get a move on.” You lick him from the base up to the tip and suck at the top before taking him into your mouth to which he pushes his hips forward to make sure you’ve got every inch in there. It makes your eyes water but down there your walls are clenching at nothing and Mingi knows that-he knows that when he’s rough your body responds positively. “I’ll bet you’re soaked down there, your cunts probably wishing it was nice and full~” you groan and start bobbing your head up and down before he even had the chance to rush you. Your tongue swirling around his tip occasionally grazing him with teeth because that’s the way he liked it. “Shit…you’re doing so good, so so good-do it faster.” His feet are planted down tight on the floor, he leaned back and held onto the wall so that he wouldn’t fall “look at me while you take my cock in your throat.” He grabs your chin and makes you look up, his face is concentrated on the feeling jaw clenching- you felt small in front of him.

Well you were small in front of him, Mingi was tall, and much more toned because he worked out a lot so he was easily able to pick you up, manhandle you and whenever he slapped your ass the handprint was huge, sometimes remaining there for a few minutes. In bed he practically engulfed you, his frame covering you whenever you two fucked or cuddled up. As he looked down at you, panting, eyebrows furrowed he quickly pulled out, the sudden motion had surprised you, but you were able to take a deep breath, gathering yourself up. “if I let you continue I would’ve came too quickly.” Neither of you knew, but awhile ago Seonghwa had dropped by, and when he heard the noises coming from the bedroom he stood next to the door, cock in hand. Peaking from the slight crack of the door that was just barely open. Meanwhile Mingi had tossed you back on the bed and and tied your pretty wrists together above your head to restrict any movement so that he could do whatever he pleased. If there’s one thing about Mingi it’s that he loved watching you squirm, loved hearing you plead and beg for him to give you even the slightest touch. “Mingi please…I need you.” And just as he went to a phone went off and almost instantly he recognized who’s ringtone it was. Seonghwa cursed to himself, attempting to shut it off. “Is that your phone?” You asked, but he shook his head and walked over to the door where Seonghwa stumbled to get himself together. “Oh..” “it’s not what it looks like,” Mingi chuckles “it’s exactly what it looks like, but I’m not mad or anything.” He opens the door wider and invites him inside “now that you’re here I have something I want you to do.” Seonghwa hesitates before stepping into the room, face instantly going red upon seeing you tied up on the bed, exposed. It’s something he’s fantasized about many times “Oh god.” You try to cover your face but the best you can do is use your arms, what the fuck was Seonghwa doing in here? And why did his presence turn you on even more. He stared hard, covering his lower half “like what you see?” Mingi asked, walking over to you and pulling your underwear down and off “look she’s already wet and ready, wanna taste?” Seonghwa’s eyes widen as he gives a shit eating grin “are you sure?” “She’s practically begging for any sort of touch, go and loosen her up for me.”

You shake as Seonghwa makes his way on the bed, fingers running through your slick, which makes you move forward trying to get more stimulation, Mingi sitting at his desk chair and guiding the oldest. “start with two fingers, and use your tongue on her clit at the same time.” He does as he’s told, shoving two fingers into you, at first his nose grazes against your clit before his tongue replaces it. “Ah-“ your legs instinctively clamp shut on Seonghwa’s Face but Mingi gets up and holds them apart for him “don’t act all shy now, take it.” Seonghwa’s tongue is going to town on you, his nose ever so often grazing against you as he’s lapping up anything that drips off the sides of your cunt. Your body feels heated, arms and legs shaking from the pleasure and not being able to cover yourself is humiliating. Mingi is groaning at the sight of you being ravished by his best friend, cock flushed and pressed against the side of your face as he holds you down. Your toes are curling and you can feel an orgasm coming “seonghwa stop.” If you weren’t tied up right now you’d grab a fistful of his hair so that he couldn’t part from you But mingi knew what he was doing. At first Seonghwa didn’t want to stop as well, just settling for just finger fucking you but then Mingi’s voice dropped deeper as he tried his best not to physically pull His friend off. “that’s enough.” The drop in octave has you crumbling on the sheets, wishing Mingi would just fuck you and stop with all the foreplay. The way both men towered, you thinking of how easily it would be for both of them to just pass you around like a doll, you couldn’t even for a second believe that This man-your boyfriend who sneers at the sight of any man looking at you for too long just allowed his best friend to eat you out. It’s a concept you’ve thought about, but never thought the high and mighty Mingi who hated the thought of anyone else getting you off would crack like this.

Your brain is cloudy, your walls desperately trying to cling onto something-anything that would get you off. It was a pathetic sight..really but both men seemed to enjoy watching you writher around in the restraints. “You’re welcome to watch, but that’s all.” Mingi said, eyes gazing towards his best friend who just grabbed the desk chair and brought it closer to the bed. He sat down, manspreading and once again pulling his cock out of his pants. If he missed the opportunity to watch this he’d definitely be pissed off about it later. At long last, Mingi finally got down to work- hands caressing your tits and sliding his fingers up towards your lips “open them.” Your mouth drops open and his slips two fingers in “now suck.” You do as told, tongue swirling around and sucking. His free hand wrapped around the front of your throat and squeezed, the lack of oxygen instantly giving you a feeling of euphoria. By now you were as loud as can be, focused on Mingi’s body weight pinning you down to the bed. “Gonna fuck you good, you’d love that won’t you?” You nod, and he pulls his fingers back wiping the fluid on your pussy for more wetness. He keeps you on your back, positions your hands above your head again and moves your legs up and back into the same position as they are. Mingi loved sex positions where you were exposed-but he also loved that in this one he was able to take you more deeply. “Are you comfortable?” Even in his rougher state he still made sure nothing hurt “please untie my wrists, they hurt.” He frees you of the restraints and allows you to put your arms down and flat. Squatting over you and positioning himself at your entrance, he slaps his cock over it a few times before pushing in, his feet flat on the bed, this required strength which he had enough of and was able to keep himself balanced. “Fuck, Seonghwa loosened you up good didn’t he? Such a whore taking his fingers inside you like that.” His hips start moving, his pace is fast and he’s drilling into you-cock so deep that it can’t move any further, “squeeze me harder.” He demands, Seonghwa remains at the end of the bed, hands wrapped around his cock, it looked as if he’d burst any second. Having someone watch you like this had your heart racing, both of their moans crowding up every part of your Brain and rewiring it. “Mingi, god..fuck I can’t take it anymore.” You haven’t even come yet but your pussy already felt so fucked out and overstimulated. “Shut up and take it, I’m almost there.” You’re moved back into a standard doggy style position, Mingi using a free hand to push your face into the mattress. It’s filthy but so fucking amazing, he knows just what to do to have you a whining and crying mess- the tight feeling in your stomach starting to return. “Ah, I can feel that you’re close, go ahead baby come.” Seonghwa’s wrist flicks faster, eyes closing shut and teeth clenched he’s about to come too but you’re first, your orgasm crashing down and causing your head to start spinning, Mingi comes after, thrusting a few more times to ride it out. Surprisingly he’s not out of breath and he flips you onto your back after pulling out, motioning for Seonghwa to get closer “do it here.” He spreads you apart, his come leaking out which sends Seonghwa over the edge as he releases all over your cunt, a groan getting caught in his throat as he lets go and falls back on the chair.

“Shit, that,” he takes a moment to catch his breath “amazing.” Mingi chuckles and gives you a kiss on the forehead “I know, you should peep often, you might get lucky again.”

1- Mingi

2- High school au

3- Prompts 12, 50, 53, and 56.

4- 18+ (some fluff but also rough?)

5- Reader is shy and a lil depressed while Mingi is one of the popular guys who everyone thinks doesn’t have any emotions but it’s actually a softie. (I love cliches what can I say). Can the genre be Strangers to lovers? Maybe he finds her crying in a classroom and that’s how they met. Also can there be a size kink and voice kink please?

Thank you!

nightmare, daydream || s.mg (m)

📓pairing ⇢ tutor! (fem) reader x popular boy! Mingi

📓 summary ⇢ in the quiet of the school’s art room during lunch time, Mingi accidentally interrupts your vulnerable moment. It was as if your usual invisible self was finally noticed. He intrigued you immensely, and as you are paired up to help tutor him, you find out that he’s much sweeter than he would like to lead on.

📓 genre/au ⇢ strangers to lovers au, high school au, slow burn, smut, angst, some fluff

📓 warnings/tags ⇢ 18+ minors DNI, voice kink, slight hand link, size kink, slightly rough sex, teasing, mingi is a secret scaredy-cat, longing, high school lovers, probably more i'm just blanking so please let me know what I missed.

📓 word count ⇢ 11.1k

📓 taglist ⇢  @atinywhore @ch0isa99ie @jjhmk @yukine-smx @roe-sinning @meowmeowminnie @yeritheloml @y00nzin0 @yesv01 @halesandy @shegotboreddsoo @kangyeosangelic @gayliljoong @sanshineeeeee @kodzukein @baguette-atiny @seokwoosmole @nyeatinyjunkie @juliettechokilo @pockyddalgi @justaqueerbufoin @hwaightme @likexaxdaydream @ssaboala @gtr-skyline-lover @miriamxsworld @leeknowsnothing @knucklesdeepmingi @naiify @yeoyeoland @arya9111 @mdibby @8tinytings @angelicyeo @wooyoungjpg @lonewolfjinji @asjkdk @charreddonuts @mangishii @yeoyeoland @pink-hwaberry @wooyoluvrr @maru-matt @pearltinyy @loveuwoo @m3chigo @northerngalxy @silverpixiedust23 (if I missed you please lmk!! bold = can’t tag)

y/n and mingi’s moodboards

The air was crisp as you breathed in, leaves crunching underneath your feet. 

It was still warm out—just between summer and fall. The leaves, however, were already falling, but some were still stuck on the branches like their lives depended on it. You envied their efforts, but yet, you knew they were going to fall just like the rest of them—it was inevitable. 

School had just started like any other year. You weren't exactly happy to go back, but at least it was your last. You wouldn't have to see the faces of your classmates ever again—you never got along with any of them, anyway.

The timing never seemed right. Your life had been a mess since you could remember, but it had just got worse a few days ago when you received the news of your father’s passing. He wasn't involved in your life; you forced yourself not to feel a thing about that man—but death was permanent, and you were terrified of it. If you cried about him, that would make you weak. But maybe, just maybe, bottling up these emotions was going to hurt you more than death ever could.

As you turned the corner to enter the school’s gates, a group of rambunctious boys pushed past you, laughing and carrying on and breaking the dress code. They never seemed to care if their ties were tied right, let alone tucking in their shirts. They always looked so messy to you; disorganized. It sent your hyperfocused mind into a spiral, but you shut it out and continued to make your way inside.

The hallway was bustling more than usual. 

You had a hard time with crowded places.

You pushed past some girls, who, as they always did, glared at you as you passed by. You were used to it, and your mother used to tell you it was because they were jealous. You knew that wasn't the case, rather, it was your backwardness that seemed to get on their nerves more than your beauty. 

You never understood your purpose. Somedays, you weren't even sure you were real. The world felt like it was crumbling around you non-stop, and you didn't know how to feel. You still don't know how to feel the things around you, as if your body didn't deserve it. Your soul didn't deserve it.

Like every other year, you sat down in the back of the classroom, away from those that actually mattered. Those seats should be for the ones that light up the room. 

Maybe it was your OCD, but if you weren't at least fifteen minutes early, you were late. And if you were late, you hated yourself even more than you already did. So, here you were, sitting in an empty classroom while the rest of your classmates carried on in the corridors and made out in the bathrooms—which was disgusting, by the way. Who would ever do that?

The silence felt….comfortable. It was only you and the slight hum of the wind through the open windows. You were too far away to feel it, but you imagined it soaring through your hair, dancing through you. 

But said silence ended after the popular crowd emptied into the room, girls trailing behind the boys like leeches craving blood.

You shivered.

The boys were popular for reasons. Two of them played basketball, the other baseball, and then….

And then there was him.

Mingi wasn't an athlete like his friends, although he had a body like one. You watched him walk into the room like he owned it, his jaw set tightly as his friends cackled about something. You remembered back in middle school when he was small and scrawny—and slightly shorter than you. Now, the boy grew into a man, his muscular frame taking up so much space that it almost suffocated you.

You never saw him smile despite his raging popularity. It was as if he was just….there. He didn't speak much, you noted. He had this aura about him that interested you beyond degree, but yet, you made no effort to dig deeper.

You couldn't help but watch him take his seat on the other side of the room, right next to the open window. He liked sitting by windows. It almost brought a curl to your lips, as his dreary-looking ass always was lit up by the sunlight. He reminded you more of the moon, but not at night. More so, the moon before the sun sets—barely there, but still noticeable. You, on the other hand, weren't even a star in his almost-night sky.

His silvery-grey hair nearly looked blonde in the sunlight, shining smoothly. He made you angry. Everything about him. But he never personally victimized you in any way. He just……never noticed you.

The rest of the class piled in as the warning bell rang, jumping into their seats but still talking to their friends. You remained quiet, your deskmate not even sparing a passing glance at you.

“Good morning, seniors,” the teacher, who you haven't seen before, smiled at everyone. “I bet you're all ecstatic to be back.”

A bunch of groans, complaints, etcetera erupted. You didn't say anything. Your deskmate already had his head down.

And then the teacher looked at you. Only for a second, but long enough. You were first in the class, which no one else seemed to know other than the faculty and staff. You would prefer it that way, but this year, you'll have a lot of attention on you. 

Your eyes traveled to Mingi once more, watching him look out the window with his chin in his hand. He wasn't paying attention one bit.

The classes came and went. Your head hurt by the end of the day, stuffing all the information you learned because that was all you had for the future. University was your only option, your only ‘dream’ if you could call it that.

Art class on the first day was pointless, but you never wanted to leave the room. It was the one thing that you enjoyed deeply. Painting was something you shared with your mother. Your favorite thing to paint was what you saw—little things around that made your heart feel something. 

When it was time to eat lunch, the rest of the kids ran out of the art room, groups of friends having fun together. You watched Mingi and his friends get up, one of them hanging onto his broad, broad shoulders like a jungle gym. His gaze never strayed from his path, even if you were in it. He moved out of the room like a big wave, current pulling everything out of the room except you.

Once everyone was gone, including the teacher, you walked over to the windowsill, seeing the little houseplant holding on to dear life. It was wilting despite getting sunlight. You stood over it, emotionless. Lips turned down, you reached out to touch its dying petals, causing one to fall to its death.

You sucked in a breath, your chest heavy. You've pushed all your emotions so far back that everything was bound to come up at once. You swallowed the lump in your throat, but it wouldn't budge. You felt the pressure behind your eyes while all your bottled-up issues came to the surface—your father’s death being the main event. You hated him for everything that he did, but he was still your father. He was….still something to you. 

You sank to the floor, embarrassed, overwhelmed. Your soul felt heavier than ever, as if it just wanted to break away and leave this godforsaken world. The tears trailed down your cheeks even though you tried so hard to hold them back. It was okay to cry, it was okay. It's normal. Cry it out, cry it out, you'll feel better—

“...oh,” a deep voice rumbled through your body, causing you to take in a sharp breath and look up. 

There he was, filling up the whole doorframe like a giant. You breathed in deeply, but the tears kept falling and falling. He stood awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. He looked concerned, though, and it was at that moment, in the art room, that your invisible self became visible—at least to somebody. 

“I….I’m sorry, I just came to grab my jacket,” he mumbled softly, gently. It caught you off guard. His presence felt oddly comforting. The look on his pretty face made you want to cry even more.

You slowly nodded, and he hesitantly entered the dim room, cautiously making his way to his easel to grab his jacket. You watched him, sniffling, beyond embarrassed. He tried not to look at you, you noticed, and you assumed it was because you looked like an absolute weirdo crying on the floor, in an art room, on the first day of classes.

And when you thought he was going to leave, he stopped dead in the doorway, his big, muscular shoulders tightening.

And then he turned around.

“I can….I can stay, if you want,” he hummed, his deep voice rippling through you. You looked up into his serious gaze, furrowing your eyebrows. 

You wanted to ask him why. Why would someone like him spare a moment of his precious time to stay with a crying weird girl? Clearly, he was concerned; it was apparent on his face. It was just….so strange that he looked in your direction, especially at a time like this. 

In a moment of weakness, you slightly nodded your head, forcing a smile—which may have looked more like a grimace. He took your nod as an okay and sat on the windowsill, keeping his distance. You looked up at him, tears still falling, but he wasn't looking at you. He was sitting with contentment, arms crossed over his chest with that emotionless face he always sported. You watched his foot, how it anxiously tapped against the floor, and how he just….made his large presence feel small.

You opened your mouth, trying to justify yourself. You didn't even know each other like this—you never spoke more than a sentence to each other before. You felt like you needed to explain why you were crying because if you didn't, he probably would've thought of you as that weirdo everyone believed you were.

“You don't have to tell me why,” he spoke, biting his tongue to stop himself from saying more.

You blinked up at him as he spoke, feeling his tone rumble through you. You had nothing to say—and that was okay. You both sat in the quiet room for some time, way longer than you thought he would stay, until your tears dried. The bell rang soon after, and he stood up hesitantly.

He gave you a genuine look of worry—but not pity. 

“It’s okay to cry, you know,” he hummed at the door over his shoulder, tilting his head. “Don't be ashamed for feeling something.”

And then he left as if he were never there. The room felt even colder than it did before as if his presence warmed it. You smiled to yourself, his words hitting you deeply.

It was that moment when you declared that you were completely, irrevocably intrigued by him. He was all you thought about, all you noticed.

Like a daydream to your nightmare.

— 

You watched Mingi the next day in homeroom again. This time, the sun didn't dare peek through the curtains of the clouds as they cried.

He sat with his head down on the desk, his eyes closed in his effort to sleep. His eyebrows were scrunched as if he couldn't let his mind rest. You wanted to ease him, just like he eased you yesterday.

He looked so beautiful, even on a rainy day. You knew he didn't have an umbrella today, as his hair was damp. He also looked cold, which struck you by surprise. He was so….large…if you could put it that way. You might have been jumping to conclusions when you assumed he couldn't get cold because of the sheer size of his body, but maybe it was because he seemed so warm to you. Like a comforting hug.

Without warning, his sleepy eyes started to open slowly, meeting your gaze from across the loud, busy room. You didn't move your stare away—you just kept on admiring him without words, taking notice of how the crease between his eyes eased just by looking at you. You didn't smile or speak. Neither did he. He just sat there, his head down still, but his eyes sparkled like they always did. As his friends carried on around him, he kept quiet, watching you from a distance. 

The moment felt like forever, and when the first class began, He still kept his eyes on you.

—

That weekend, you ventured your way around on a mission to enjoy your favorite midnight snack. The convenience store on the corner always had the best selection of snacks, but tonight, you opted for just a banana milk. As you grabbed one, another large hand encased one next to you, startling you.

You looked to your right, Mingi standing there emotionless—but his eyes sparkled with mischief. 

“Banana milk, huh?” he tilted his head, his gaze analyzing you like a work of art. You wondered if he thought of you as one. “I thought you'd be more of a strawberry girl.”

You blinked, confused. He was talking to you like a normal human being. You furrowed your brows as you looked at him, filtering your response.

“I like strawberry, too,” you admitted, giving him a confused glance before making your way to the register. He followed, a decent distance away from you, his body nearly twice the size of yours. Surprisingly, once again, his presence was far from intimidating. 

He stepped in front of you as you went to pay, setting down his strawberry milk with yours. You were about to question his actions, but then he handed the worker money, paying for you without saying anything. You frowned but kept your mouth shut, knowing that he was just being kind. You did begin to worry if he did this out of pity.

You walked out of the store together, sitting down on the stoop outside. You sat shoulder to shoulder in silence, sipping on your milk comfortably. It has been a long time since you felt comfortable in silence with someone. It was nice.

You looked over at him as he stared straight ahead towards the road in front of you, his pretty, silver hair shining under the street lights. 

“What’s your name?” he hummed gently, genuinely. You tried your best not to be insulted, but you tried to look at it in his view—in a room filled with a bunch of others, you probably never caught his eye enough to reach his curiosity. 

You blinked at him, trying hard not to show any specific emotion. “y/n,” you stated, taking a sip of your banana milk. 

He nodded, looking forward. He muttered your name as if he was trying to engrave it into his mind.

“y/n,” he murmured, nodding. You tried so hard not to feel butterflies.

After a moment of silence, you sat and watched him, probably weird to anyone other than you. But you looked at him, saw how he scrunched his nose as he looked forward, how his plump lips parted as he breathed. You noticed everything he did and didn't do.

“You're different than I thought you were,” you spoke, still staring at him. He moved his gaze to you, looking down through his long, dark eyelashes. You admired his beauty, having no reason to hide it. 

He furrowed his eyebrows, still looking perfect. His expression lacked emotion, as if he had a hard time with it. “And how did you think I was?”

You shrugged, maintaining eye contact. You hated to hide your feelings, feeling as if it were pointless. He seemed like someone you could confide in, but maybe that was because you admired him for a long time. “I don't know, I just assumed you lacked a sense of humanity.”

He looked confused. “I…I don't get what you mean.”

“You were always so unreal to me,” you shrugged again, looking from his hair to his large hands holding onto the tiny milk. “Robotic-like.”

He nodded as if he agreed with you. You weren't the best at expressing yourself, but you had hoped he took your reasoning as a compliment.

More silence. You finished off your drink as he spoke once more.

“How are you?”

A simple question. A question usually asked without a care, just small talk. This time, however, he turned his body towards you, genuinely asking.

You looked away from him shyly. “I’m alright now,” you paused, refraining from saying more. “How are you?”

He sighed, looking forward. “I’m also alright. But I have detention tomorrow because I threw a basketball at some dickhead who thought it was okay to bully someone.”

You nearly smiled. 

“That's not fair,” you hummed softly. “You were standing up for them, and you get the shit end of the stick.” 

Mingi shrugged. “Violence still wasn't the answer,” he smiled, almost painfully. “I’m working on that.”

You admired him more than ever.

He stood up, towering over you. “I’ll see you at school, yeah?”

Your mind ran a mile a minute with everything you wanted to say to him. Yet, you kept your lips sealed and smiled.

“Yes,” you grinned. “I’ll see you, Mingi.”

—

“Miss y/n,” your homeroom teacher called for you as you walked down the hall, catching your attention. “Can I speak to you quickly?”

You nodded, knowing it was probably something to do with grades or planning some sort of event. You followed him into the empty classroom while he rummaged through some papers.

“I need you to tutor one of your classmates,” he spoke, still ruffling through a mess of papers until he found what he was looking for. “He requested you when I brought up the idea of getting tutored, so I hope you'll be interested. It’ll look great on your college application, of course.”

You furrowed your brows. “Who requested me? What’s the subject?”

“Uh…who was it…who was it—Ah, yes, Song Mingi. He’s struggling with chemistry.”

There you go again—as if it were fate. You were tangled with him once more, your mind circling back to him. You have never been involved with anyone to this degree, and the fact that Mingi requested you made it even more interesting.

“Okay,” you agreed. “I’ll do it.”

You walked out of the classroom, a smile nearly reaching your lips. Things were getting interesting—you were starting to feel like a real high school student and not just some fly on the wall that everyone tried to ignore—or swat at.

In the chemistry lab, Mingi sat his ginormous ass down next to you, letting out a sigh as he did it. You received a few weird looks from your classmates, who were probably wondering why the hell the popular Song Mingi was paying attention to the creepy art freak.

Or maybe you were thinking way too far into things.

“Hello, tutor,” he whispered deeply, tossing his notebook onto the table in front of you. He looked extra nice today—his hair was styled, so his forehead was showing. You took notice of the delicate birthmark on his cheek and how something so small made a huge impact on beauty.

You blinked at him, not an ounce of fear in your body. “Your face is pretty,” you spoke softly, admiring him. You didn't exactly mean to blurt that out, but hey, it was true. Why should you act like you didn't find him breathtaking? 

He looked taken aback by the random spew of admiration as if he’d never heard it before. His usually expressionless face brightened up, but only slightly. “You think I’m pretty?”

You nodded curtly, biting the corner of your lip. “Yeah, I’m sure everyone does.”

“Yes, but,” he rubbed his fingers against the spiral of his notebook, causing your attention to go to his long, gorgeous fingers. “Everyone else doesn't matter.”

You frowned, unsure what he meant by that. You didn't even have time to ask, anyway, as the teacher came in and started the lesson. Your eyes focused on his hands, his clean nails, his movements. He couldn't seem to stay still and had to move at least his fingers or his foot. It made you warm and fuzzy that such a big man had such human habits.

When you started the daily experiment, you bumped elbows with Mingi. He shied away, rather than you, and looked at you with a lost expression. You began to work together, but as your thoughts began to move to the idea of Mingi’s hands on you, all over you, you accidentally knocked over the beaker of chemicals. You shrieked back, bumping into Mingi’s chest, and as if it were a reflex, he held your shoulders tightly as if to protect you.

“What happened?” the teacher inquired, and you turned to her, Mingi still embracing you from his enormous height. It was then you realized how much smaller you were—your head only reaching his shoulder. 

You tried to form words, but nothing came out. Instead, mingi apologized. “I’m sorry, I accidentally caused y/n to knock over the beaker.”

The teacher looked irritated, but sighed in response. “All right, thank goodness it’s only Acetic Acid. Can you both please grab some cleaning materials in the janitor's closet down the hall? I cannot leave the room while administering chemicals.”

You looked up at Mingi, pulling yourself away from his grip awkwardly. You nodded, taking off your goggles before nearly running out of the room, Mingi following suit.

You reached the room, opening the small door as quickly as you could. You didn't know how close Mingi was, and when you felt his breath hit the top of your head, you tripped up, pulling him into the closet with you. 

You landed on top of his muscular body, feeling his warmth through your clothes. He let out a grunt right by your ear, creating a mess of dirty thoughts in your mind. You looked down at him, and when you saw that gorgeous, slight smirk on his pretty lips, you swallowed the lump in your throat. His smile was so beautiful—maybe because it was rare.

You were quite literally on top of the Song Mingi.

“Hi,” he mumbled softly, his eyes sparkling with mischief. 

“....hi,” you peeped out, suddenly aware of your breath and your weight. You didn't even get the chance to get off of him when the door suddenly shut, causing you to jump.

You looked at him one more time, watching his gaze drop to your mouth, before tossing yourself off of him to open the door—but it was locked, and you were stuck, all alone with the one man you thought about more than anyone.

“Is that….is that locked?” Mingi pushed himself up on his palms, looking so delicious it was eating you up from the inside. 

You tried to open the door over and over again, and after the millionth time, you sighed. “Yep.” 

And then he laughed—a deep, childlike rumble that tickled your brain. You looked at him with wide eyes as he stood up in the small closet, inches away from you. It was dully lit by the lightbulb above, orange hues drowning his strong features. You noticed little specks of gold in his eyes like he was carved by the gods, decorated with glamour. You wanted to reach out and glide a hand down his cheek just to feel his skin. He looked unreal in horrible closet lighting. You wondered what you looked like to him.

“What is it?” his deep voice rumbled, a questioning tone. “Do I…..make you nervous?”

He took a step closer to you, but you did not step back. You tilted your head up more, gazing straight into his intoxicating eyes.

“Maybe,” you admitted, biting the inside of your cheek. “Yes.” 

“Why?”

“Because you're attractive,” you admitted with ease, making him smile even more. You felt butterflies from his gaze, knowing that you were the cause of his grin. “You make a lot of people nervous.”

He looked conflicted—his hand twitched at his side, begging to touch you. The amount of chemistry flowing between you now was more than the amount spilled on the linoleum, and you felt the electric shock simmering through your soul.

He sighed, eyes dancing across your features.  “You're so…interesting,” he whispered, his hand finally breaking the bone-crushing lack of touch. His fingers delicately glided up your arm, but stayed there. You ached for them to move all over you.

You frowned, wondering what he meant. “In a good way?” you asked him, your voice small.

He didn't answer you—maybe he didn't know, either. Maybe his interest was something his brain could not comprehend, similar to how he captivated you. You were both vastly different—from different worlds. But yet….this feeling between you was undeniable.

His hand met your shoulder now, sending a chill down your spine. Why was he…why was he touching you on his own accord, why was he looking at you like that?

Your chest tightened, his expression unreadable. His breath tickled you, his cologne powerful. You closed your eyes on impulse, taking in this feeling, these senses, this ache in your chest that you have never felt before.

Before Mingi acted on his impulses, the door swung open, and you shoved him against the other wall, turning around quickly. 

“There you are. I was wondering if everything was okay,” the teacher huffed, calling you both out of the closet. You couldn't even remember walking back to the classroom, but you vividly remembered the feeling of his hands on you—and wondered about where else those fingers could go.

—

The next few days, Mingi sat with you at your lunch table—which was usually just you or someone else at the end who didn't have anything to do with you. It caused a lot of commotion; his friends were confused at the table across the room, and girls began to chit-chat while glaring.

You didn't mind; it was nothing. People were allowed to look and talk. It doesn't make you any less of a person.

Mingi rested his head on his palm across from you, flipping through his chemistry notebook aggressively. He didn't speak, he just made irritated noises. You smiled at him—probably the only person you ever showed this much emotion to.

“What are you confused about?” you asked him as you took a bite of your lunch, noticing that his tray was completely filled without a single bite taken.

He sighed, looking up at you for a second longer than a friend should've. He blinked, brushing away the hair that covered his eyes, before dropping his gaze back to the textbook.

“I just don't understand any of this,” he mumbled, his tone worrisome. You noticed his feelings more than your own—your heart ached to tell him that it’ll be okay. That he shouldn't worry. 

But you weren't anything to him—he just learned your name while you knew his everything.

You leaned forward, hearing the soft breaths leave his lips. You tried your best to read the backward words, succeeding after a long moment. 

“Ah, Ionic bonds?” you reiterated, meeting his gaze. He nodded, looking at you instead of his book. You ignored his intense stare. “Do you know the linkage?”

He just stared at you, his eyes twinkling. His expression lacked any sort of emotion, but somehow, you felt as if he was captivated—like an artist appreciating his artwork.

“Anyway,” you forced yourself to continue, holding in all of your questions for him. Why was he looking at you like that? Why did you feel a pull to him, a pull like no other? Like you were made just for him in this universe, similar to those oppositely charged ions being pulled together in electrovalence. You were an Ionic bond, two opposites, an undeniable tug, a match made in chemistry.

“Electrostatic attraction,” you gulped, trying to swallow the lump in your throat. Despite the room being filled with people, you only saw each other. 

He looked down at your hands, which were quite literally fumbling over your chopsticks. “What?”

You cleared your throat, feeling jittery. You never felt jittery. No one made you feel this way—actually, nobody ever made you feel anything. This scared you but interested you more. “When two ions of opposite charges are attracted to each other. It creates an Ionic bond….”

“A bond?” he hummed, his fingers peeling back the textbook page, causing you to look down. You breathed in deep, composing yourself, but the deep ache to have him ruined everything you ever worked for—your beauty has always been your brain, but he made you feel like your outward appearance was also worthy. 

“Yes,” you nodded, pulling away from him to sit against the back of the seat. “Kind of like….opposites attract. You know, how people are attracted to those different than them?”

He stared at you, his cold gaze somehow warming you more than summer ever could. He may have looked like winter, but to you, he melted the ice off your stone-cold heart.

You looked at each other then, that chemistry sparking and spilling all over you. His lips were downturned in a frown, but oh, his eyes lit the fire inside your barren soul. The things you wanted to say to him ripped through you, desperate to reach the surface, but you held back as you were happy enough to get his attention.

“Why don't we…..why don't we skip next period?” he spoke, biting his lip slightly. You watched his eyes dance across your face, trying to figure you out. 

You never missed a class. You came to school on time. You followed every rule known to man. Everything you did was by the book. But now, oh…..everything you ever knew about yourself seemed to be dwindling over a cliff.

With a short nod, you watched his lips curl slightly, feeling proud that you were the cause once again.

—

It was raining as you both ran through the empty halls, drops dripping down the windows like they were racing to the finish line. His hand brushed against yours, sending a shock through your body. You wondered if he felt it, too.

“Do you have an umbrella?” he asked you as you reached the back door.

You shook your head.

He sighed, contemplating his impulses, you assumed. But you felt in control now, and with a quick motion, you gripped his hand, offering him a questionable look before pushing through the door.

You tumbled through the rain, drenching you as if you were in the ocean. He held onto your hand tightly as if he would drown without you. He let out a laugh, feeling like music to your ears. Without thinking, a smile reached your lips, your cheeks turned red as he pulled you through the rain.

You stopped underneath a small building’s overhead roof, both of you out of breath and soaked to the bone. He looked ethereal—his silver hair now dark like the night sky. His eyelashes were covered in raindrops, delicately taking rest on him. His skin was dewy, his smile brighter than anything you've ever seen before.

You felt the butterflies then—like you were in a movie. However, you haven't seen this film before. The air around you felt serene, the mist of the fallen raindrops splashing all around you. He was close, too close, if that was possible. Your body nearly went into flight or flight at his gaze, his intention. He felt like the rain to you, all around you, soaking into you. You didn't know how to not think of him this way.

“Your face,” he hummed in the small space, your shelter—It was him. “You're dripping wet,” he said, and with a twitch of his hand, his fingers gracefully slid across your cheek, catching the drops in their fall—but he couldn't catch you as you fell.

You swore your soul left your body as he touched you. It was like he was destined to touch you. It may seem silly, especially to your incredibly logical thought process, to be melting under someone’s fingertips. It seemed utterly shameful to your mind that you feel like a puddle as if he was the melting point and you were just….well, mush. It was because of your lack of experience, maybe, that everything he did was heightened.

“Ah,” you fought the urge to lean into his touch. Even after he wiped away the raindrops, his hand still cradled your cheek, his eyebrows knotted in confusion. 

So you reached up, pressing your pointer finger between his brows. You eased his thoughts, resting his expression. “Don't do that,” you blinked up at him, watching his eyes widen at your touch. “You look prettier when you smile.”

He fought off his smile, but you still saw it. “Don't say that.” 

He did smile after he spoke this time, as if he couldn't hold it away.

When he smiled, you felt like you ruled the world.

“Why?”

His touch felt warm against your cold cheek.

“Because,” his eyes—oh, you loved them. They were so expressive, they made up for his lack of emotion. They spoke a million words, like a window into his hidden soul. “You'll confuse me.”

“I don't mean to confuse you, Mingi.” When you spoke his name, you could've sworn he sucked in a breath. “But think I’m a pretty straightforward person.”

He scoffed slightly, looking at his own hand and how it fit perfectly to your face. “You're so oblivious for someone who’s our valedictorian.”

You blinked quickly, the sound of the rain encapsulating the air around you. You were hyperaware of everything—his breaths, the beauty mark on his cheek, his hand on yours. His height, god, it stirred your guts around in more ways than one. 

The moment felt like forever. You stood there, trying to catch your breath, but he kept taking it away. It took you back to the day he saw you in the art studio, how he kept his distance but filled the room with so much care without speaking—he made you feel something no one ever will accomplish. 

When you arrived back at the school, you ended up in detention together, huge grins on both of your faces as you sat across from one another. When he smiled, your whole body tingled, and when he looked at you, you became his.

—

As the days move on, the leaves rot on the ground you walk on. You loved October. You belonged to the season. Your soul only lived during the death of summer.

Mingi, once again, followed you like a lost puppy. He sat next to you at lunch, not across from you, and just….sat contently. You both didn't speak. He watched you eat, watched you breathe. If he were anyone else, they would've been six feet down.

“What are you doing tonight?” he asked, his body turned to you. 

You shrugged, looking over at him. You met his gaze, feeling those shocks once more. “Probably just studying for the chemistry exam.”

He nodded, sniffling. You frowned at him, now tilting yourself to face him. “Are you getting sick?” you asked him, unsure if you looked concerned or irritated.

He let a small smile reach his emotionless lips. “I don't know yet, it may be my allergies.”

You curtly nodded your head, and then you turned back to your food. He held his head up by his hand, staring at you, his eyes conflicted. You tried so hard not to turn towards him and kiss his lips. You weren't too sure how he would take that.

After another couple of moments of silence, he spoke again. “Do you want to come over tonight? To study, of course,” he interjected, which led your dirty, inexperienced mind into a fit of thoughts.

Were his parents going to be home? What was he planning on doing to you? Did he…did he have an ulterior motive?

Mingi broke you out of your thoughts. “I mean, if you don't feel comfortable, we can meet somewhere else—”

“No,” you cleared your throat, gripping your chopsticks tighter. “I mean, I would love to come over.”

His eyes twinkled as you met them, like shooting stars falling from the sky. He probably didn't realize that they did it, as his face didn't show any other hint of excitement.

“Okay, nice,” he said blandly, but once again, his eyes said otherwise. You dared to smile, causing him to smile back.

The sunlight danced across his honey skin through the blinds, and you just sat there, admiring him, dreaming about not-so-PG thoughts. 

—

Later on in the evening, you stood in your best efforts of an “effortless” look, anxiously looking at Mingi’s monstrous home. You assumed he was rich, but not this rich. 

The home was glorious, a mansion, if you will. You couldn't even count the windows before you started to feel the pit of your stomach growing bigger and bigger. You swallowed hard, adjusting your bag on your shoulder before pushing past the gates of the entrance. 

It took you a solid minute to knock on his door, which was probably bigger than your room alone. He took a while to answer, causing you even more anxiety. What if a goddamn maid opened the door? God, you'd book it so far that he’d never find you again—

“Y/n,” he hummed breathlessly as he opened the door, his hair dripping wet and his whole torso completely unclothed. Your eyes traveled without permission, noticing the droplets of water that dared to drip down his defined abs….down onto the edge of the towel that just barely covered his hips. You held back your animalistic cravings as you noticed his v-line, swallowing hard. “You’re early.”

You did not move your gaze—you continued to eyeball him without shame. He didn't seem to mind. “Oh, yeah, sorry. Should I leave?” you blinked, eyes rolling up from below to his gaze. He almost looked embarrassed, but there was something sinister in his emotional eyes.

He paused, noticing how you were looking at him. He swallowed hard, too, opening the door wider to let you in. “No…just….come in. Let me go put…..clothes on.”

You nearly smiled at his embarrassment. You followed him in, in awe of his broad shoulders and smooth skin, to the curve of his sides. You felt like an animal in heat.

You looked around the home, feeling….empty. There were no pictures on the walls, no mirrors. Not an ounce of an existence of family, or color, or comfort. It was cold—Void of emotion.

You sat on the couch in one of the living rooms, the ceilings a million feet high. The TV rested on the wall in front of you, bigger than your home. You didn't see anyone, or hear anyone other than Mingi. It felt lonely—yet you were only there for a minute or two.

When he came back into the room, fully dressed in a baggy t-shirt and sweats, you wondered how on earth that shirt drowned him. Maybe if you put it on, it would probably end below your knees.

“Sorry, sorry,” he let out a small anxious chuckle. He stood in front of you, causing you to strain your neck and look up at him. “Should we study here or….?”

Some part of you wished that you weren't here to study. It was something about the feeling between you….it was burning red, fiery, and you craved to dive into its flames.

“It doesn't matter,” you shrugged. “Wherever you want, really.”

His presence is intoxicating. Your mind wanders to his gentle expression, to the water dripping down his head, and you begin to question your sanity. The range of emotions you feel for him was alarming—especially for you.

You follow him into the kitchen and set your bag down on the island. He stands and stares, similarly to how you were observing him earlier. 

As you tried to tutor him about chemicals and such, you looked up at him occasionally, only to find him looking at you.

“What?” you asked him softly, meeting his gaze. “Is there something you're confused about?”

He stared at you intently, his lips downturned. “Yes,” he admitted, biting the inside of his cheek.

“What is it? Is it about—”

“You,” he blinked, fiddling with his fingers. “I…you confuse me.”

Your eyes widened, your stomach tightening at his words. “How do I confuse you?”

“You just…” he sighed, setting down his pencil. “I never know what you're thinking, I guess.”

“Ditto,” you shrugged, keeping the eye-contact.

Silence. You just stared at each other, almost desperately, as you tried to understand what exactly was burning between you.

He sighed, breaking the eye contact by looking down at his textbook. “Let’s just….” he swallowed hard, shutting his book with a forced smile. “Let’s study another time. How about we watch a movie?”

You met his gaze, feeling the air burn around you. His expression was indescribable—something you've never encountered before. You nodded, nonetheless, and when he stood up abruptly, you followed him like a lost puppy through his house, which was far from a home.

“Why are you alone?” you asked from behind, watching his large body move with such grace. 

He didn't look back as he responded. “My parents live in Seoul,” he hummed. “I’ve been alone.”

You felt a chill roll down your spine as his cold words echoed through you. He seemed to have bad blood with them, whoever they are, and your flighty personality has you wanting to seek them out to tell them how horrible it is to leave their child behind.

As you walked into the vast, empty living room, you stopped in your tracks.

“It must be lonely,” you murmured, to which he paused for a second. 

He let out a small laugh—a forced laugh—like he needed to pretend to be okay. You wished for the day he didn't need to pretend.

He sat down on the sectional, his long legs sprawling out. You looked at him before sitting down next to him, a reasonable distance away. He looked over at you, his eyes conflicted.

“What…. what's your favorite kind of movie?” He asked you.

You hesitated. You were concerned about what he would think about your opinion. 

“Horror,” you admitted, watching his eyes widen.

“Horror?” he reiterated, his expression grim. 

It was almost too cute. You nearly blushed.

You smirked, sliding in a bit closer to him. “What? Are you scared? I thought you were a big, tough guy.”

“..fine, ahem,” he cleared his throat, running a hand through that silvery hair of his. “I’ll put a horror movie on….since you like them.”

As the movie played, you sat next to each other, still a suffocating amount of space between you. You looked over at him, his expression wary, his hands balled up as if he were terrified. 

You scooted over closer to him, hearing his breath hitch. You weren't sure if it was because of you moving closer or because of the jumpscare on the TV. you leaned in slightly, whispering into his ear. “Are you scared, Mingi?” you giggled, causing him to jump.

“Fuck, he hissed, his eyes frazzled. He quickly tried to calm himself down, and he put a silly little smile on his face. “No, I just don't like getting jump scared, is all.”

You smiled at him, the distance now only inches. You watched how his Adam’s apple bobbed anxiously as the space between you two shrank and how his eyes lingered on your lips. You wanted him to reach out and press them to yours, like how it almost happened in the supply closet. You wanted to feel everything he could make you feel—more than you already felt.

As the movie went on, the loud, atrocious noises filled the space, but all you saw was him. The room was dark, and his features were highlighted by the small source of light coming from the television. You watched his eyes glimmer through the darkness as they landed on you, and you heard his breaths quicken.

And in that moment, you had enough.

You slowly reached out to him, your fingertips meeting the softness of his cheek. He frowned in confusion, but his eyes spoke more words than he’d ever said before.

“What are you doing?” he whispered.

“I….” you swallowed hard, bringing up your other hand to cradle his face gently. “I just want to feel something. I….I want you to feel it, too.”

Your eyes meet his lips; his eyes do the same. You've never been this close to anyone….and he felt just right. Everything about him caused you to ache. To ache for his touch, his attention. You craved every part of him, even before he knew your name.

He shined in the sunlight, even when it rained. 

And with that look in his eye—that deep, desired look—you slowly pressed your lips to his unmoving ones, and after a moment, he kissed back with such passion you could swear you saw stars.

His hands held the back of your head, his lips parting yours. He let out a shaky breath as you kissed, and your hands trailed down to his chest. Something about this sparked something inside you, ignited a flame that was destined to burn for a lifetime. He parted your lips open, his tongue infiltrating your mouth smoothly. You let out a moan, causing him to deepen the simple kiss into something much more…sinister.

“Do you feel something now?” he hummed against your lips desperately. His hands gripped your jaw, the tips of his fingers tangling into the hairs at the base of your ears. “Please tell me that I make you feel something.”

“You do,” you mumbled breathlessly, your hand gliding up his cheek. He leaned into your touch as if he were deprived of it. Maybe he was. Maybe he wanted to kiss you like this for a while, to touch you like this for a while. Maybe, just like you, he ached to feel something, too. “God, Mingi, only you can make me feel this way.”

You looked at each other in between kisses. His eyes were lustful, yet, they looked like they could tear up any moment. You didn't know what you looked like to him, so you leaned in again, delicately pressing your lips to his. He wrapped his arms around you, his forehead pressing against yours as he kissed you more and more and more. 

He pulled back ever so slowly; his eyebrows knit together, his brown irises dead center on your eyes. He spoke a million words without ever opening his mouth or even parting his lips. You smiled at him, feeling more like yourself than you've ever felt before. 

He lit up your soul.

His eyes asked you kindly. You agreed with a soft nod, and then he whisked you away into bliss. 

He carried you with grace through the dark hall, dropping you on his bed. Your back hits the cold duvet, sending chills down your spine. For a moment, he just gazes down at you, the only source of light being the floor lamp in the corner of the room. His expression was one you understood for once—he was full of emotion, and he made you feel safe.

He sucked in a breath, and you watched intently as he lifted his shirt slowly over his head. He was nervous—obviously nervous, and you wondered why such a big, strong, stone-like man would be scared of something like this. You were confident he’d done this before—he had to have. 

“I won't bite you,” you breathed, looking up at him with your soulful eyes. However, your innocence only went so far here. You've been watching him for ages, trying not to feel this…whatever this was. A mix of love, lust, longing, belonging….and he finally saw you. 

You were going to eat him up if he let you, of course.

He let out a shaky laugh, standing there so delicately powerful. His muscles rose and fell in the shadows of the dark, his skin looking ever so soft. You sat up on the bed, reaching out to him. You gripped his waistband, pulling him into you. He breathed in as your fingertips touched the bare skin of his waist, and he held his breath as you pushed past that waistband….down his underwear, to find…

Holy fucking shit. 

That’s literally going to obliterate your insides.

You must've looked shocked because he suddenly pulled himself away from you. “W-what? Is something wrong?”

You blinked up at him, tilting your head. You couldn't help but let out a laugh, to which he looked even more confused.

He looked distressed, so you stood up from the bed and walked up to him. He towered over you more than you've ever realized. You stood there in front of him for a moment that seemed to last forever, his eyes frantically searching for your explanation.

“Is something wrong with it—”

“Mingi,” you breathed, basically moaned, his name as you fiddled at the hem of your shirt. He watched your hand, gulping. “You may just kill me with that.”

You flung your shirt across the room, and your hands then danced at your waist to undo your pants. 

He frowned, confused. “Kill you? How—”

Your pants dropped to the ground, and you kicked them aside. You were left in your underwear—a pretty pink set you've kept in your drawer for ages for a moment like this. You completely got him starstruck.

You watched his mouth part as he stared at your body. “What…uh,” he swallowed hard, running a hand through his hair. “I…” You stepped closer to him, gliding your hand to hold his cheek; he shut his eyes and leaned into your touch, taking a deep breath. 

You leaned forward, on the tips of your toes. “Are you going to take the rest off, or am I gonna have to do it for you, scaredy cat?” you teased, pressing a kiss to his neck. He shivered, his hands instinctively gripping onto your hips.

His eyes were lustful, his gaze ripping right through you like a knife would tear a heart. It was as if you offended him, and he grit his teeth as he slid your bra right over your head with one hand.

You smirked, your hands running up the sides of his face to run through his gorgeous hair. You found pleasure in his reactions—the way he savored his feelings as he closed his eyes.

“Is this your first time?” he whispered weakly as your lips found a home under his jaw. “Because I have a feeling it isn't—”

“And if it is?” you interrupted him, still creating your mark on his neck. “Will you not fuck me?”

“Oh, dear god,” he huffed, letting out a groan. He shoved you onto the bed, your back once again hitting the covers. This time, it felt even colder. “Where the hell did you get that mouth of yours?”

You tried to breathe, but you no longer remembered how to. “Why, do you not like it?”

He didn't answer you with words. Instead, he unbuttoned his pants, his hard-on begging to break through his underwear. You laid there, your breasts on full display for him, and your stomach tightened as you saw his dick after he took everything off.

“Oh….” you gulped, raising your eyebrows in hopes that he didn't see your worry. You've never had sex, only with your own fingers, and as you looked down at his massive cock, there was no way in hell that was fitting inside you.

In fact, it turned you on just thinking about how…big he was. How he stood with confidence, turning red, his body physically showing his attraction to you, blood pumping, sweat pooling to the surface of his skin.

His size….you've always been obsessed with his size—it surrounded your every thought. This was the cherry on top of your fantasies.

He knelt over you, his body warmth making you even hotter. You felt his erection press against your thigh, and you shamelessly moaned, meeting his flaming gaze.

“By kill, I mean,” you breathed in, pausing. “I mean, that dick of yours is like a goddamn weapon.”

His face was right over yours, and you watched a sinister smile fill his features. “Is that so?” he whispered, dipping his head to kiss your lips. You moaned into the kiss, biting his bottom lip as he pulled back.

“Mhm,” you whimpered as his dick pressed against your panties, and you ached for him to take them off. He was too captivated by your breasts to even think about the fact that they were still on. You looked down at his hands, and oh, they just completely encapsulated you, mind and body, body and soul. You wished for him to suck the living life out of you, to choke you until you saw whatever was beyond this life, if there was anything. His hands alone caused you to daydream about them bringing death to you and being pleasured by the hands of death. They were so large, so soft, so gentle. You wanted him to manhandle you, to tear you apart, to rip your heart in two and then sew it back together. Your mind was just rambling on now, but one thing was for sure.

You were in love with him.

“Mingi,” you whispered, wrapping your hand around his arm that worshiped your breasts. His eyes met yours, madly, desperately. “Take every part of me.”

He wasn't sure how to respond, and you knew it. He did, however, understand your request, and he kissed you from your breastbone to the mounds of skin, down your stomach, finally reaching where he needed to be. He kissed you there, right there, and you felt his hot breath radiate through the thin fabric. It was gone before you knew it, and he lined himself up on top of you, his chest heaving from breathlessness and desire.

His silvery-grey hair nearly looked black in the moonlight, shining smoothly. He made you happy, everything about him.

“Tell me if it hurts,” he spoke against your lips, the tip of his dick pressing against your entrance. You closed your eyes tightly as his thick cock slid into you. 

“I like the pain,” you said.

Your eyes watered, but the sound of his pleasure made everything better. Truthfully, you discovered something about yourself that you never knew. You loved that he was big. You loved how his cock still had length outside of you, even as he stuck himself fully in. You watched as he moved in, moved out, how his hips bucked against yours, and how he held you underneath him, tenderly, like he was afraid to shatter you like glass. You were his throne, his home, and he was your everything.

“Ah,” you hissed; this never felt before feeling tingling your insides, your stomach filling up with his length. You gripped onto his shoulder blades, tearing into his skin as he sped up. He seemed to like how you inflicted pain, and you continued to pierce his skin, carving your mark like writing initials into tree bark. 

It was bliss, your first time. The feeling of him pumping into you was addictive—you were sure you were going to want this every day for the rest of your life. You arched your back into him, wrapping your legs around him as you felt yourself reach your climax. You've never felt one before, and it was intoxicating. His breaths quickened along with his movements, and his hips rocked back and forth slightly, hitting new spots for your body to learn. He was your tutor, your teacher. Your daydream and your nightmare. You revolved around him as if he were your sun and you were his moon.

His expression changed as he looked at you—eye contact and all. You've never felt so intimate with someone your entire life, and strangely enough, despite your usual ignorance of emotions, you wanted to bask in this feeling forever. To gaze into his eyes forever. Maybe it was your youth; maybe it was your first life. 

“You're so beautiful,” he praised, his face contorted in pleasure. His tone of voice sent ripples through your body—it was deep, raspy. It rumbled through you, all around you. You loved his voice. You loved it so much that you wanted him to speak more and more and more.

“Say that again,” you moaned, sweat dripping down your temple as the top of your head hit the headboard. “Please.”

“You,” he breathed, lifting one of your legs up to burrow in you deeper— as if it were possible with the size of his dick. He hit a new spot, causing you to toss in his embrace, begging for more. “...You are beautiful.”

“God fuck, Mingi,” you quite literally snarled, gripping his shoulders to switch positions, you now sitting right on top of him. You looked down on him, finding gratification in his sexily fatigued expression. His eyes were barely open, his chest heaving, his hands gripping the sheets. “I love the sound of your fucking voice.”

And with that, you began to ride him, watching his features twist with such interesting emotions you've never seen before. When he began to breathe quicker and quicker, you watched how his eyes widened, how his big, veiny but gentle hands came up to fist your hair. You cried out, eyes watering, pain sparking down your neck—but you loved it. 

He grabbed you by the hair and shoved you onto your stomach, face full of pillow and the sweet smell of Mingi’s hair wash. You closed your eyes as he re-entered you, his hands putting pressure on the small of your back.

And as he let out a deep, bone-crushing moan, you squeezed your thighs together tightly. He pulled out quickly, and came on your back, painting himself all over you.

The only sound through the silence was the huffing of your breaths, your face flushed, hidden from him. He let out a slight, rumbly laugh—music to your ears.

“I’ll go grab a towel,” he spoke softly, his fingertips dancing down the side of your waist as if he were appreciating your structure. 

He cleaned you up with such softness as if this weren't the man that was just fisting your hair and slamming his dick into you. You lay in his bed, naked, your stomach aching, your legs weak. 

He laid next to you, his shower he had just taken before this turned utterly pointless, his body covered in sweat. His hair stuck to his forehead, and you reached out, brushing it up. You smiled at him as he stared at you with fascination.

And then, in the comfort of his embrace, you fell asleep, dreaming of him.

—

When you awoke in the morning, he was no longer there.

Your youthful mind didn't jump to conclusions—you slowly rolled out of his California king and picked up his huge t-shirt, tossing it on without anything else. It drowned you, down to your knees like you expected, and you giggled in bliss. It smelled like him.

When you stepped into the kitchen, you saw a cup of steaming coffee on the island. Mingi was facing away from you, the back of his head messy, silver hair standing up everywhere.

“Good morning,” you mumbled, standing awkwardly in the doorframe. He quickly turned around, a goofy smile plastered on his face. 

You felt the rush of blood reach the tips of your ears.

He inspected your outfit—or his outfit—and that goofy smile widened even more. “My shirt, huh?”

You wrapped your arms around your body. “It was the first thing I picked up.”

“I like it,” he smirked, walking over to you, his arms taking the place of yours. “I love it, actually.”

You embraced him, feeling finally happy. “You're a lot more colorful than usual,” you acknowledged, feeling his heartbeat through his chest. 

“You must've painted me in a new light,” he hummed, resting his head on the top of yours. 

You tried to escape his embrace, but he tightened it, shaking his head. “You're not leaving me.”

You giggled, trying to playfully push him away. “Mingi, what time is it?”

He paused. “Uh….”

You pulled back, looking into his eyes. Your own eyes widened.

“School, oh my god, we forgot about school!”

—

You held Mingi’s large hand as you sprinted down the road to your school. After a pit stop at your home for your uniform and a blissful moment of a makeout outside the door, you barreled as fast as you could, knowing you were gonna get punished. Even so, you laughed the whole way, and when your tardiness landed you in detention, you couldn't of been happier to end up in a room with Mingi.

The teacher left the room for a moment, and as the door shut, Mingi launched out of his seat and attacked you with his lips, his hands in your hair, his teeth clashing with yours as he smiled as wide as ever.

The next day, you watched him sit in the sunlight in homeroom, noticing his hair shine—the same head of hair you ran through as he made love to you a few nights before.

He liked sitting by windows. It brought a curl to your lips, as his dreary-looking ass always was lit up by the sunlight. 

He was the moon during the day, right before the sun sets. And you, well, you were finally a star in his almost-night sky.

—

Winter break was approaching. Students were talking. You didn't care, and neither did he. In fact, he made it painfully obvious, sitting next to you with every chance he got, touching you as much as he could, smiling so wide it was unlike his usual persona.

The question dwindled over your head. Many people asked you, talked to you, and inquired about your relationship with him. You didn't exactly know what to tell them—you never actually labeled whatever this was. Whatever it was, it didn't matter to you, as it just mattered that you were blissfully happy for however long it may last. You were going to enjoy this time you had with him, knowing that college was approaching.

“Y/n!” a loud voice boomed through the study hall class, a few students turning their heads in confusion. You met eyes with Yunho, one of Mingi’s best friends. You frowned, confused as to why he was calling for you. There was no teacher as the class didn't start yet, so you weren't too alarmed.

“What?” you asked him.

He took a sharp breath in, hands on his knees like he ran a marathon. “It’s Mingi—he got hurt on his way to school—”

You stood up quickly, eyes wide. “What? Where is he?”

“In the nurses—”

You didn't even give him a chance to finish his sentence. You ran down the hall, even though class was about to start. 

You let out a loud breath when you reached the nurse’s office. “Mingi? Are you okay—”

With a tight grip on your wrist, he tugged you into the office, slamming the door behind you.

He stood there, perfectly fine, with a boyish smile on his face.

You hit his chest. “What the hell? I thought you were hurt?”

He giggled, wrapping his arms around your waist as he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours. “Mmh. No, I just wanted to do this.” he kissed you again, his hands tilting your chin up with such tenderness. 

You smiled into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his waist. “You're such a sneak.” 

“Do you want me to kiss you in front of everyone?” he teased, pecking your nose and then your lips. “Because I will.”

You chuckled, kissing him more. “It’ll  probably clear up all the rumors about us,” you shrugged, ruffling his hair as you kissed him again.

“People are so nosy,” he mumbled. “Can't two people date in peace?” 

You pulled back in his embrace, a glimmer of mischief in your gaze. “Oh?” you tilted your head, and as he went in for another kiss, you pressed a finger to his lips. “Were dating, huh?”

He blinked as if you said something completely insane. “Huh?” he furrowed his brows. “Haven't we been dating?”

You smirked, teasing him. “Since when?”

He scoffed, but still held onto you. “Uh, since I literally fucked the living shit out of you?”

You laughed at his vulgarity, pressing your lips to his in a long, sensual kiss. “So were dating now?”

“I thought you knew that.”

“How would I know that if you never said it?”

“Because you're the fucking valedictorian, y/n.”

You stared at his confused face, smiling wider than you've ever smiled. “Okay,” you nodded, watching his eyes sparkle down at you. “Boyfriend.”

“Girlfriend,” he giggled like a child, grabbing both your cheeks and kissing you over and over again. “My girlfriend.”

You never saw yourself as cheesy and didn't see him as the cheesy kind, either. But there you were, in each other's arms in the run-down, empty nurses office, blissfully unaware of how the future will work out for you. But now was the time, not then, not when. It was now, and now you loved him. 

You were his tutor, his happiness, his light, even if you never thought you could ever brighten up someone’s life. 

It was this moment— you declared that you were utterly, irrevocably in love with him. He was all you thought about, all you noticed.

The future isn't guaranteed, but you both will live on, together maybe, who knows? You were young and in love, but who says it won't work? Your hearts will live for each other, whatever the future brings you.

He was the daydream to your nightmare.

"it's so hot, i'm literally gonna melt" you complain while removing your shirt, leaving you wearing just a bra. you raise your arms above your head, extending your fingertips towards the air conditioning vent to feel the cool breeze directly.

"come back to bed," yunho emits a groan from his spot in your bed, sprawled out on the covers resembling a starfish. he's wearing nothing but his chelsea t-shirt and boxers.

"why would i do that, we're both sweating like crazy," you mutter, your eyes shut tightly as you try to absorb every bit of the refreshing breeze.

"don't stand in front of the ac, you'll catch a cold," he says, shifting onto his side to gaze at you. a smile forms on his face as he appreciates your appearance. you're dressed in a plain white bra and his matching chelsea shorts. "why don't you take off the shorts and show me something good, tiny."

without responding or turning around to face him, you choose to express your annoyance by flipping him off, enjoying the sensation of the cool breeze against your perspiring skin. his laughter fills the air, and you sense him rising from the bed. suddenly, his warm hand wraps around your waist, creating a comforting sensation. you find yourself automatically smiling at his touch, as if your body instinctively responds to him without needing permission.

he allows both of you to tumble onto the bed, resulting in you landing on top of him with a startled "mmphf" escaping your lips. he playfully rolls you both around, causing you to end up beneath him, his larger frame enveloping you and pressing you deeper into the mattress. as a sense of panic overwhelms you, you begin to scream, and your screams mingle with his laughter. desperate to free yourself, you push against him with all your might, but he remains firmly in place, refusing to budge.

the piercing sound of your screams is abruptly halted as your other boyfriend enters the room, balancing a tray with three cups of what appears to be icy slush. disregarding the situation, he nonchalantly tosses his keys onto the nearest piece of furniture and hands a slush to yunho, who is still chuckling while keeping you pinned down with one forearm pressed against your chest.

"seonghwa tell him to leave me alone, i'm gonna die," you whine helplessly, attempting to give him your most pleading puppy-dog eyes. however, he simply gazes at you, taking slow sips from his strawberry slushie. the sunlight streaming through the windows accentuates his dark under-eye circles, making them appear even more pronounced, casting shadows on his handsome face.

"i don't have time for this," he sighs, clearly exasperated. yunho's laughter intensifies, finding the situation incredibly amusing, knowing well that he's the one who persuaded seonghwa to engage in late-night gaming sessions until sunrise. you adore yunho and his playful, puppy-like personality, but his boundless energy can be exhausting, especially when you're pinned down, struggling for breath. feeling defeated, you gaze at your untouched slushie, resting silently on the nightstand beside you.

"yunho, i'm sweating so much right now, i don't think you wanna be this close to me," you attempt to persuade your boyfriend to move away, but he looks at you with a perplexed expression. he leans down and presses his head against your neck, and you feel his tongue, cold from his drink, glide from the base of your neck to the side of your jaw. "what the fuck! get off!" you forcefully place your palms against his chest and manage to push him away, creating enough space for you to peer down at his smirking face.

"you taste good," he smiles in response, his tone casual as if he didn't just do the most out of pocket shit you've ever witnessed.

"move," seonghwa grumbles as he slips into his side of the bed beside you. he briefly closes his eyes, allowing a moment of rest while yunho nudges both of you to the left on the spacious bed. seonghwa sits up again, removing his t-shirt just as you did earlier. your gaze wanders over the expanse of his well-defined chest, sweat causing his abs to gleam in the sunlight, giving his physique an almost ethereal quality

"thirsty?" you hear yunho whisper in your ear, and you can sense that he caught on to the way you glanced at seonghwa, implying a sexual undertone. however, you genuinely feel parched and in need of a drink.

"yeah, seonghwa please?" you request, pointing towards the nearby cup behind him. he turns to you and goes to retrieve it, but instead of handing it to you, he brings the straw to his own lips, savoring the taste of the orange beverage, "fuck i knew i should've taken peach, it's so fucking good."

he turns towards you and laughs upon witnessing your betrayed expression. "don't look at me like that, i just wanted to taste, here baby take," he says, taking another sip before pushing yunho away from your body. he then brings his lips to yours, guiding the liquid into your mouth, and you willingly accept it, feeling it slide down your throat as his tongue brushes against the roof of your mouth. pulling back, he licks the trail of liquid that had escaped your mouth and landed on the side of your cheek.

"want more?" he asks, and when you nod in agreement, he pushes the straw to yunho's lips.

masterlist

Roadkill°{Rated X} Drabble ->Series

Criminal! Woosan x Victim! Chubby Reader

Strong Language, Sexual themed , mentions of prostitution, Alcohol, and pissed off San yummy 😋

"I said take a left, dumbass!!!"

It is often mentioned that nobody can bear the burden of a guilty conscience. However, have you ever considered what happens when someone or a group of people shamelessly disregard feelings of regret, remorse, and the basic principles of humanity?

Instead, they prioritize their own selfish desires for greed, wealth, and personal gratification, even if it means hurting others.

"ITS HARD TO FUCKIN HEAR OVER THESE SIRENS"

The individuals are the Korean bonnie & clyde; Jung Woo-young; the man driving the getaway van and Choi San the man poorly reading directions. Not much is known about these menances besides them being nothing but a handful of trouble.

Cutting through a rural region facilitated the pair's escape. The guys puffed, drawing in as much breath as possible before bursting into nervous laughter between the duo.

“Oh, sh*t, that was close. Lucky us, huh?" remarked Wooyoung.

San sat in despair and rolled his eyes, saying, "Drive the fucking car.." He had had enough of his beloved for the day.

.....

The stillness between the lovers was uncomfortable following today's somewhat botched theft. San was the one who broke the stillness. "I'll be back," he said casually over his shoulder as he crossed over the motel entrance. Wooyoung huffed, hot on San's trail. "Where are you going?" he inquired, without shoes in the crisp autumn air.

"For a walk." San said, plainly

Instead of confronting San's emotions based on his actions, Wooyoung answered, "Okay." Wooyoung steps furiously into the van before speeding away into the night..l

San didn't bother giving him a moment's glimpse.

What the hell is this place?! Wooyoung was driving through this dump of a town, venting his frustration. He was cruising down the deserted streets when he stumbled upon a crappy gas station. "Just in time," he muttered to himself as he pulled up to the pump. But of course, the tank was empty. "Fuck!" Wooyoung screamed as he punched the steering wheel in anger.

....

In the depths of despair, San painfully acknowledged the vast gap of time without his foolish lover. Anxiety consumed him as futile calls left him restless. Where could that ass be?

By the roadside, the van sat motionless, as if devoid of any purpose. Within its confines, a wooyoung, heavily intoxicated, slumped over carelessly, encircled by a sea of discarded beer bottles. His supposedly peaceful slumber was abruptly shattered by the obnoxious blaring of his cell phone...again

Wooyoung bellowed furiously through the speaker. "Ugh, What..what- Ah! Shit!.... Quit goddamn yelling in my fucking ear!.. ... How the fuck am I supposed to know where the hell I am?! I just woke the fuck up!.....wah! I'm not some damn drunk-asshole! You've been a colossal asswipe all day.. I fucking saved your sorry ass and all you gave a shit about is the dead bitch on the pavement...... He. would have..fucking killed you!... You dumbass."

San's mind was filled with a disturbing idea - were they heartless murderers or courageous outlaws? The reality was horrifying. They were criminals, but taking a life was an entirely new level of wickedness. However, San couldn't ignore the fact that they were not entirely innocent either. The truth was staggering and left San in a state of shock.

During their incarceration, whispers circulated about his involvement in sinister dealings that involved the disappearance of both guards and fellow inmates. But he was not acting alone, driven by a primal instinct to survive.

However, Wooyoung was a different breed altogether. His thirst for blood was almost demonic, a rush of adrenaline that coursed through his veins like a sweet poison.

He reveled in it, relishing the taste of fear and the power it gave him. It was as if he had made a deal with the devil himself, and now he was paying the price in flesh and bone.

San's point was clear: Wooyoung possessed the power to decide the fate of that man, whether to merciless slaughter him or spare his wretched existence.

The man, feeble and defenseless, posed no immediate danger. Yet, in a twisted display of sadistic pleasure, Wooyoung coldly pressed the barrel of his gun against the man's vulnerable skull, relishing in the anticipation of the impending explosion. And then, with a resounding bang, the man's life was abruptly extinguished, his blood mingling with the already crimson-stained surroundings.

In a state of intoxication, Wooyoung seized control of the wheel.

Tragically, lost in his drunken haze, he dared to shut his eyes for what seemed like a mere moment. Suddenly, a blood-curdling scream pierced through the air, jolting him awake... Shit. He hastily pulled over, compelled to investigate, only to be confronted with a shocking sight - a lifeless woman sprawled before him.

He gnashed his teeth, the very last thing he wanted was the hassle of concealing a dead body. Wooyoung's gaze crept up your limbs until it met your face...Shit, she's bleeding a bit but she'll live...I must have scared her out of her wits and she passed out. The longer Wooyoung stared, the more he discerned your profession.

At first, The school girl uniform puzzled him but there's no way in hell, Parents would allow their daughter out the door the way your dressed.

He audaciously dropped to his knees in the grass beside your form, your name tag proudly displaying "Yn" with a heart-shaped flourish. "Bunny Lounge..." he uttered, his voice dripping with disdain. "You're nothing but a filthy prostitute." A humorless chuckle escaped his lips as he continued, "My dear, you are far too beautiful to be a whor-"

His intentions abruptly shifted towards your forsaken purse, mere inches away from your body. A wicked smirk danced upon his lips as he scoffed, relishing in the sinister thrill of his impending actions.

"Just hold on a minute, Sweetheart," He sneered.

With a savage force, Wooyoung tore through the contents of your purse, his hands ravaging through the remnants of your personal belongings. And then, amidst the chaos, he stumbled upon a collection of cherished family photographs, capturing the essence of your existence alongside your innocent baby twin sons.

The realization struck him like a bolt of lightning, electrifying his twisted mind. "You... you're a mother..."

A wave of sorrow washed over him as memories from his troubled childhood resurfaced. He was raised by a single mother who tirelessly struggled to provide for him, doing whatever it took to ensure there was food on the table.

He sensually pressed his ear against your heaving bosom, captivated by the rhythmic melody of your steady heartbeat... Wooyoung wasn't the cuddlyist person in the world but he found instant relief being against your skin.

San was teetering on the edge of madness, his mind consumed by fury, when his spouse burst through the door, guzzling down yet another bottle of the delectable soju. "Daddy's finally graced us with his presence," San sneered.

Woo-young's freakin' good-looking mug was all shiny, like he'd been doused in oil or somethin'. "Sannie-ah!"

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" San exploded, launching himself at Wooyoung and forcefully slamming him against the door. "It's fucking 3am. Where the hell were you?"

"I... I killed an angel," Wooyoung whispered, a sinister giggle escaping his lips as he leaned in close to San's ear. "She's so soft n' sweet...like you." His tongue grazed San's stud earrings. "So I had to keep her-..I had no choice.."

San brushed off Wooyoung's words, tossing him aside like a rag doll as he stormed out of the motel room. But as he took a few steps away, doubt began to creep into his mind. Could it be possible that his drunken lover was actually telling the truth?

As he crept towards the van's rear, his heart pounded with fear. San's hands trembled as he reached for the cold metal handles of the doors. With a deep breath, he pulled them open, and his breath caught in his throat. In the center of the mattress lay a woman.No angel. your dirty body was bound and gagged, your blouse ripped open to reveal a lacy bra. The sight was enough to make San's blood run cold. He knew he had stumbled upon something truly terrifying.

San held his breath slamming the doors shut before rushing to confront the murderer. Wooyoung flinched at the sound of the door. " You look pissed." He chuckled. "Did you see my piece of heaven? Beautiful. Right?!"

Meanwhile, in the cold. As you slowly regained awareness, your foot landed on a glass bottle, knocking it against others. Bringing you up to speed on the issue.

Your heart races as you feel the panic set in. The pressure is crushing you, and you can't even sit up because of the damn rope tying you down. You look around frantically, trying to make sense of your surroundings. Are you outside? In a shed? No, it's a van. Your mind races as you try to figure out how to escape this nightmare.

"You're nothing but a filthy prostitute." A man's voice was the last thing you heard before you fully lost consciousness.

As your captors' voices grew louder, the chilling realization hit you like a ton of bricks - would you ever lay eyes on your beloved boys again? Tears threatened to spill, but you had no time for weakness.

Upon opening the doors, The men found you conscious and confused you stared at them as if their aliens. "Oh shit, She's alive." Wooyoung slurred, "See, Sannie, you hit me for nothing." He happily crawled into the van climbing up your body as you struggled. "Easy, mommy, you don't want to hurt your-"

San aggressively punished his lover upside the head. "Ya! The fuck is wrong with you?! This isn't us." He snatched his lover against the wall of the van with a Slam.

Wooyoung groaned, enjoying the feeling of being manhandled. " We're criminals, Dickhead, bad stuff is what we done." He couldn't take his eyes off your exposed legs. "We should reap the benefits. Don't you think, Sannie?"

San snatched Wooyoung's jaw forcing him to look at him. "There's a fine line between Criminals and monsters and that " He uses his head to movement towards your shaken figure. "Is going overboard!"

San had clearly had enough for the night, but Wooyoung wasn't going to let him get away with it. In a drunken rage, he snapped back, defending himself with all the aggression he could muster.

"Sleep in the damn van!" San barked at Wooyoung, not bothering to look back. "Fucking animal " He hoisted himself onto the bed, forcefully wrapping the rope that restrained your wrists around his neck, and effortlessly lifted you up.

As you observed the furious Wooyoung venting his frustration on the van, you instinctively leaned closer to San, finding some solace in his comforting presence.

..to be continued ♡

⇜Fill her up good⇝

| smut: MDNI 18+

| pairing: dom!husband Wooyoung x sub!afab reader

| summary: just making babies i think :)

| W/T: unprotected sex (do not), creampie, fingering, overstimulating, kinda daddy&mommy kink, breeding kink

| Words count: 565

============================================

"gonna fill you up another time babe, get yourself ready." you shut your eyes open, struggling to look at your swollen cunt being fucked, through your eyelashes, wetted by your desperate tears mixed with your ruined mascara. Wooyoung's cockhead is pressing against your cervix as he pounds in you so deeply as he could ever do. He throws his head back, impatient to see your already throbbing pussy, being filled up again by his arousal, so much that he could immediately see it pouring out of you. You're hesitant to keep your legs open, what you're feeling is just stimulating you over the edge, while he's fucking you dumb. you've never reached your orgasm so many times, and also, your body never took all of that cum inside your ovaries. You've only asked to your husband how would it felt to have sex without a condom, and he's now taking that opportunity to fuck you senseless and finally breeding you with his seeds, his hands are gripping at your tights so he can make sure to keep you open wide for his dick to slip in and out of you hundreds of times. "Come on, take that, take this cum like a good mommy" his voice raspy and broken from how many times he's been keeping to moan, praising everytime you'd clench your walls around his length, twitching and swirling inside your aching pussy, hoping that it would help him to climb his high, till his supposed last orgasm. Nasty, squelching sounds echoing inside your room, as he is leaning over you to push himself even deeper, and suck on your hard nipples, tongue swirling around to make them erect. "Can't wait to have your fat tits filled up with your milk, nghh- wish i could taste it too-" the pornographic sounds escaping from your mouth, making you look completely like a whore, needy to take her daily dose of dick's release inside her squelching folds: "Fuck! g-gonna cum" He leaned back, holding your legs by your knees, his waist swimming between your tights, watching his cock taking his way into you, his pulsing tip kissing harshly your g-spot. "Not yet darling, i need to give you my babies, as many as i can." His tongue's sticking out, as he's still pumping in you relentlessly, even during your orgasm. "Fuck-! P-please- i can't-" you scream once he licks his thumb, then draws circles around your swollen clit, as fast as he is pushing his dick inside you. "Yes you can, take every single drop of my precious cum, gonna fuck you so much our babies will be so pretty." He groans when he finally feels his cockhead warming by the hot ropes of cum he's releasing inside you. Your pussy now red from all the times Woo's balls were pressing and slapping against it, you rolled your eyes back, forcefully trying to get down your high. "Gonna be such a good daddy..." you whine, your nails gripping desperately around his arms. "You'll be so pretty as pregnant, mommy." Woo leans over you again, placing his head on your neck, inhaling your sweet scent while leaving small kisses on your sensitive and warm skin. He moves his hand on your stomach, caressing it carefully, trying to feel the bulge of his cock still releasing his seed inside your organism. "Take good care of our kids, yeah?"