mari

she/her | 18+

[myloveforyunho]

do you have any audios for yeosang? his voice can be so deep but also soooo whiny 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

yeosang smut audio || yeosang getting a handjob from you after edging <3333 enjoy!

yes omg! his voice is so adorable but so smexy, he’s definitely one of my faves in ateez all around 😊 i’m also getting so many requests for yeosang cause i’m sure his voice is rare to find, but leave it all to me 😋

check out my other smut audios ⇊

smut audio masterlist

[angelflffy]

anything seventeen perhaps.. thank you ily

joshua smut audio

◞🪽 ⠀　 ⁺⠀ 　⥰ ⠀

　　𝖽𝗎𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𓈒　1:48　　┄┄┄┄

➷　　𐃬𐃬　　𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌　　𓍢

       solo! hua , phone sex , moaning , talking

➥　　𐃬𐃬　　𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾𝗌　　𓍢

    hai here u go!!😛 if u want another member instead lmk :) ily too hehe!! so many friggin members to tag omd im js gonna search them up lowk

[atinyzenflwr]

where i think steadfast boys will wreck you

pairing: steadfast boys x reader

genre: smut

wc: 5.2k

WADE - BATHROOM

The bathroom door clicked shut behind you, the sound sharp in the quiet apartment. Steam still hung thick from Wade’s shower, fogging the mirror, clinging to the tiles. He stood at the sink in nothing but a low-slung towel, droplets tracing lazy paths down his broad back, over the ridges of muscle that flexed when he turned to face you.

Water-dark hair stuck to his forehead; that trademark smirk was already in place, lazy and knowing. “Took you long enough. Thought you were gonna leave me in here all alone.”

You stepped closer, the cool floor a shock under your bare feet. “Looked like you were enjoying the view of yourself in the mirror.”

He laughed—low, rough—pushing off the counter. “Nah. Been thinking about you the whole time.” His eyes dropped, slow drag over your body, lingering on the thin tank and shorts you’d thrown on after hearing the water shut off. “Come here.”

You closed the distance. His hand caught your wrist, tugging you flush against him. The towel did nothing to hide how hard he already was, pressing insistently against your stomach. Heat radiated off his skin, mixing with the lingering steam.

He kissed you hard—no warning, just open mouth and tongue, tasting faintly of mint toothpaste. One hand slid up to fist in your hair, tilting your head; the other gripped your ass, lifting you onto your toes so you ground against him exactly right.

You broke away gasping. “Wade—”

“Shh.” He spun you, pressing your front to the sink. Your palms slapped the cool marble; in the foggy mirror you caught his reflection—eyes dark, jaw tight with want. He yanked your shorts and underwear down in one rough pull, letting them pool at your ankles.

His towel dropped next. You felt him—hot, thick—sliding between your thighs, teasing without pushing in yet. His chest pressed to your back, lips at your ear. “Been hard since I heard you walking around out there. Imagining bending you over right here.”

You pushed back; he groaned, low and filthy. His hand slid between your legs, fingers finding you soaked, circling your clit once—twice—before sliding two inside, curling slow.

“Fuck, you’re dripping,” he muttered, voice wrecked. “All for me?”

“Yes—please—”

He pulled his fingers free, replaced them with the head of his cock—pushing in slow, stretching you open inch by inch until he was seated deep. You both moaned, the sound echoing off the tiles.

He started moving—hard, deliberate thrusts that rocked you forward, hips snapping against your ass. The mirror cleared just enough to show his face behind you: lips parted, eyes locked on where you were joined.

His hand snaked around, rubbing fast circles on your clit. “Come on, baby. Let me feel it. Squeeze me so fucking tight.”

The angle, the pressure, the way he filled you—it hit perfect. You shattered with a choked cry, thighs trembling, pulsing around him. He swore roughly, pace turning sloppy, desperate—then buried deep with a guttural groan, coming hot and thick inside you, hips jerking through it.

He stayed pressed close after, breathing ragged against your neck, one arm banded around your waist to keep you upright.

Eventually he kissed your shoulder—soft now. “Shower’s still hot,” he murmured, smirking against your skin. “Round two? I’ll wash your back… promise to behave.”

You laughed, breathless, already reaching back to thread fingers through his wet hair.

“Liar.”

He grinned wider. “Yeah. But you love it.”

MIGUEL - ROOFTOP

The rooftop door creaked shut behind you, sealing out the stairwell echo. Up here the city sprawled endless—lights pulsing like a living thing, wind sharp and cool against sweat-damp skin. Miguel stood near the edge, back to you at first, broad shoulders outlined against the neon haze. Black compression shirt clung to him, sleeves rolled, forearms flexed as he braced on the railing. He didn’t turn right away—just glanced sideways when your footsteps crunched gravel.

“Figured you’d show,” he said, voice low, carrying that quiet edge. A smirk tugged his mouth. “Or were you gonna make me come find you?”

You stepped up beside him, hip brushing his. “Thought about it. Make you work for it.”

His eyes darkened, flicking over you—tank top already sticking from the climb, shorts riding high. “Careful. I like a chase.”

He moved before you could answer—hand catching your jaw, tilting your face up into a kiss that started slow but turned rough fast. Lips bruising, tongue claiming, one arm banding your waist to haul you against him. You felt the hard line of him through his joggers, already thick and straining.

Wind whipped around you both as he backed you toward the low concrete ledge—not over the drop, but close enough the city lights blurred below. His mouth dragged down your neck, teeth scraping, sucking a mark just under your ear. You gasped; his hand slid under your tank, palm hot against your stomach, then higher, cupping your breast, thumb rolling your nipple until it peaked hard.

“Been hard since we left the apartment,” he muttered against your skin. “Watching your ass in those shorts the whole way up.”

You tugged at his shirt; he let you yank it off, tossing it aside. Moonlight carved shadows across his chest, the faint scars and muscle shifting as he breathed. Your hands roamed—nails dragging down his abs—while he shoved your shorts and underwear down in one impatient pull.

He dropped to a crouch, hooking one of your legs over his shoulder. No tease this time—mouth on you immediately, tongue diving in, licking deep before focusing on your clit with slow, firm circles. You gripped the railing behind you, knuckles white, thighs trembling as he sucked, hummed, two thick fingers sliding inside to curl against that spot that made your vision spark.

“Miguel—fuck—”

He pulled back just enough to rasp, “Louder. Let the city hear.”

You came fast—back arching, cry tearing out into the night, pulsing around his fingers. He stood, licking his lips, eyes feral.

He spun you, bending you forward over the ledge—palms flat on the cool concrete, ass presented. Joggers shoved down, he gripped your hips, notched himself, and thrust in one long, deep stroke. You both groaned—raw, echoing.

He set a punishing rhythm—hard snaps that rocked you forward, balls slapping wetly, each thrust driving him deeper. One hand slid up your spine, pressing between your shoulder blades to arch you more; the other reached around, fingers finding your clit again, rubbing fast.

“Gonna come on my cock,” he growled low in your ear. “Right here. Where I can feel every fucking tremor.”

The angle was brutal—perfect. You clenched, shattered again with a broken moan, walls fluttering hard around him. He followed almost immediately—hips stuttering, burying deep with a guttural curse, spilling hot and thick inside you, pulsing through every aftershock.

He stayed seated a long moment, chest heaving against your back, lips brushing your shoulder blade—gentler now.

Eventually he eased out, turned you, cupped your face with both hands. Thumb traced your swollen bottom lip.

“Still wanna stargaze?” he murmured, voice wrecked, eyes soft for once.

You laughed shakily, tugging him down for a slower kiss.

“Stars are overrated. I’d rather watch you.”

He smirked against your mouth, already pulling you toward the shadowed corner where an old blanket was stashed.

“Good. ‘Cause I’m not letting you leave this roof till sunrise.”

SHILOAH - BEACH

The beach was deserted as the sun dipped toward the horizon, painting the sky in streaks of orange and pink. Waves rolled in gentle, persistent, the only sound besides the soft crunch of sand underfoot. Shiloah had wandered farther down the shore, away from the last scattered towels and umbrellas, board shorts dark with water, skin gleaming from salt and late light.

He spotted you first—standing at the water’s edge, letting the foam rush over your toes—and that slow, playful grin spread across his face. He jogged the last few steps, water splashing up his calves, and caught you around the waist from behind, lifting you just enough that your feet left the sand.

“Trying to sneak up on me?” he teased, voice warm against your ear, lips brushing the shell. “Or just waiting for me to come get you?”

You laughed, twisting in his hold until you faced him. His hands settled low on your hips, thumbs tracing the waistband of your bikini bottoms. “Maybe both.”

He kissed you then—lazy at first, tasting of ocean and sun, then deeper, tongue sliding slow, coaxing a soft sound from your throat. Salt clung to his lips; his chest pressed hot against yours. You felt him harden quickly, thick and insistent through the thin fabric, nudging your stomach as he backed you toward a cluster of smooth, sun-warmed rocks half-buried in the sand.

The tide was coming in slow; small waves lapped at your ankles, then calves. He lifted you onto the flattest rock, settling between your thighs, hands sliding up to untie your top in one easy pull. It fell away; his mouth followed—hot, wet—closing over one nipple, sucking gently while his tongue flicked. You arched, fingers threading through his damp curls.

“Shiloah—”

“Love when you say my name like that,” he murmured, voice rougher now. He tugged your bottoms down, fabric catching briefly on wet skin before he tossed them aside. His fingers traced you—light at first, then parting, sliding through slick heat. “Fuck… already so wet for me.”

He dropped lower, kneeling in the shallow surf, guiding one of your legs over his shoulder. His tongue dove in—slow, deliberate licks from entrance to clit, circling with that teasing precision that made your hips buck. He groaned against you, the vibration sending sparks up your spine. Two fingers pushed inside, curling deep, pumping steady while his mouth worked faster.

You came with a sharp gasp—back bowing against the rock, cry swallowed by the wind and waves, thighs trembling around his head. He rose slowly, licking his lips, eyes dark and satisfied.

He shoved his shorts down just enough, cock springing free—hard, flushed, glistening at the tip. He pulled you forward to the edge of the rock, lined up, and sank in one smooth, deep thrust. You both moaned—low, raw—the sound blending with the crash of the surf.

He started slow—long, rolling strokes that dragged against every sensitive spot—then built faster, hips snapping, water splashing around you with every movement. One hand braced on the rock beside your head; the other gripped your thigh, holding you open.

“Feel that?” he panted, forehead pressed to yours. “How deep I get? Gonna make you come again… right here with the ocean watching.”

The rhythm turned harder, relentless. His free hand slipped between you, thumb rubbing messy circles on your clit. You clenched hard—shattered with a broken moan, pulsing around him. He followed seconds later—burying deep with a guttural groan, spilling hot inside you, hips jerking through every wave.

He stayed close after, breathing ragged, lips brushing your temple, your jaw, soft now. Waves lapped higher, cool against heated skin.

Eventually he eased out, helped you sit up, pulling you into his lap on the rock.

“Sun’s almost gone,” he murmured, arms wrapping around you from behind, chin on your shoulder. “Wanna stay out here till it’s dark? Or head back… see what happens in the shower?”

You leaned into him, smirking. “Shower sounds dangerous.”

His laugh was low, warm. “With you? Always is.”

He kissed your neck once—slow, promising—then stood, scooping you up bridal-style as the first stars began to prick the sky.

“Let’s go make some trouble inside.”

STANLEY - HOTEL

The hotel room door clicked shut behind you, sealing out the muffled hallway chatter. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the glittering city skyline, but the curtains were half-drawn, casting long shadows across the king bed and the plush carpet. Soft jazz drifted from the bedside speaker—low, sultry, barely audible over the hum of the air conditioning.

Stanley stood by the minibar, sleeves of his white dress shirt rolled to his elbows, tie already loosened and hanging open. He’d shed his jacket earlier; now the fabric clung to his shoulders from the faint sheen of sweat after the long elevator ride up. Dark hair slightly mussed, he turned when he heard your heels on the carpet, eyes locking on you with that quiet, intense focus that always made your pulse jump.

“Finally,” he said, voice low and rough around the edges. A small, crooked smile tugged his lips. “Thought the lobby crowd was gonna keep you forever.”

You kicked off your heels, letting them tumble aside. “Missed me that much?”

He crossed the room in three strides, hands finding your waist, pulling you flush against him. The faint scent of his cologne—woodsy, expensive—mixed with the warmth of his skin. He kissed you slow at first, lips brushing, tasting, then deeper—tongue sliding in, claiming, one hand sliding up to cradle the back of your neck.

You felt him harden fast against your stomach, thick through his slacks. He groaned softly into your mouth when you pressed closer, grinding once—deliberate.

“Been half-hard since dinner,” he murmured against your lips. “Watching you across the table in that dress. Fuck.”

His hands moved—efficient, impatient—unzipping the back of your dress in one smooth pull. Fabric pooled at your feet; he stepped back just enough to look, eyes darkening as they traced lace and bare skin.

“Turn around.”

You did. He guided you forward until your palms braced on the cool glass of the window. City lights blurred below; the drop was dizzying, but his body pressing to your back anchored you. His fingers hooked into your panties, tugging them down slow—teasing—until they hit the floor.

He pressed kisses along your spine, dropping to his knees behind you. Hands spread your thighs wider; then his mouth was on you—hot, wet tongue licking a slow stripe up your center, circling your clit with focused, filthy precision. You moaned, forehead tipping to the glass; he hummed in approval, the vibration making your knees buckle.

Two fingers slid inside, curling deep, pumping steady while his tongue flicked faster. “Come for me,” he rasped against you. “Right here. Let me taste it.”

You shattered—back arching, cry muffled against your arm, pulsing around his fingers. He stood slowly, licking his lips, eyes wrecked.

He spun you, backing you toward the bed. Slacks shoved down, he sat on the edge, pulling you onto his lap—straddling, facing him. You sank down slow, taking him inch by inch until he was buried deep. Both of you groaned—low, raw.

His hands gripped your hips, guiding you into a rhythm—slow rolls at first, then faster, harder. The bed creaked faintly; city lights flickered across his chest. One hand slid up to cup your breast, thumb rolling your nipple; the other pressed between you, rubbing messy circles on your clit.

“Feel that?” he panted, forehead to yours. “How deep I am? Gonna make you come again… all over my cock.”

You clenched hard—shattered with a broken moan, walls fluttering. He followed seconds later—burying deep with a guttural groan, spilling hot inside you, hips jerking through every pulse.

He held you close after, breathing ragged, lips brushing your temple—soft now.

Eventually he eased you back onto the bed, pulling the sheets over you both. His arm banded your waist, chin tucked against your shoulder.

“Room service in the morning?” he murmured, voice hoarse, a faint smirk in it. “Or… round three before breakfast?”

You laughed quietly, threading fingers through his hair.

“Both.”

He kissed your neck once—slow, promising—then settled in, already half-asleep against you.

“Greedy,” he whispered. “Lucky me.”

HAYDEN - SPA

The spa suite enveloped you in humid quiet, the mineral pool’s underwater lights casting rippling turquoise across the dark stone walls. Steam hung thick, scented with vetiver and warm citrus. Hayden waited half-submerged on the wide, curved step at the deep end, arms braced behind him on the ledge, water lapping just below his pecs. His skin glistened; dark hair slicked back, droplets tracing the sharp line of his jaw. When you stepped down into the pool, letting the silk wrap slide off your shoulders to float away, his gaze sharpened—slow drag from your face to your hips, then back up.

“Get over here,” he said, voice low and gravel-rough, barely louder than the gentle churn of the jets. “Been staring at the door waiting for you to walk through it naked.”

You waded closer; warm currents swirled around your waist. He reached out first—fingers curling around your wrist, tugging you between his thighs until your knees brushed the step. His other hand slid up your thigh, palm flat and hot, stopping just short of where you ached most.

“Turn,” he murmured.

You faced away; he pulled you back until your spine met his chest, water lapping at your collarbones. His cock pressed hard against the small of your back—thick, insistent. One arm banded your waist, holding you flush; the other hand dipped below the surface, fingers parting your folds, sliding two inside slow and deep.

“Fuck,” he breathed against your ear, teeth grazing the lobe. “You’re already clenching around my fingers. Been thinking about me?”

You nodded, head tipping back onto his shoulder. He curled them—slow, deliberate—hitting that spot that made your hips jerk. His thumb found your clit, rubbing lazy circles through the warm water while he rocked against you from behind, length sliding between your cheeks.

“Want you inside,” you whispered.

He withdrew his fingers, guided himself to your entrance, and pushed in—slow, inch by thick inch—until he was seated fully. You both exhaled shakily; the water amplified every sensation, every subtle shift.

He started moving—long, rolling thrusts that lifted you slightly with each upward drive, the current swirling around where you were joined. His hand stayed between your legs, fingers pressing firm, steady circles on your clit while the other slid up to cup your breast, rolling your nipple under the water.

“Like this?” he rasped, lips brushing your neck. “Deep. Slow. Feeling every fucking flutter.”

You moaned—soft, broken—the sound swallowed by steam. He picked up pace gradually—snaps turning sharper, water splashing louder against the sides. The angle dragged him against every sensitive ridge inside you; pressure built fast, coiling tight.

“Hayden—close—”

“Come,” he growled low. “Come on my cock right here. Let me feel you shake.”

You shattered—back arching against him, cry muffled into his shoulder, walls pulsing hard in long, rolling waves that dragged him over the edge. He buried deep with a rough groan, spilling hot and thick inside you, hips jerking through every thick pulse as the water kept swirling.

He held you pinned to his chest after, both breathing hard, his lips trailing lazy kisses along your damp shoulder.

Eventually he eased out, turned you in his arms so you faced him again, legs wrapping his waist under the surface.

“Still up for the steam room?” he asked, voice hoarse, thumb brushing your cheek. “Or you wanna stay right here… let me fuck you slow against the wall till the water cools?”

You smirked, fingers threading through his wet hair.

“Wall. Now.”

His grin flashed—dark, eager—as he lifted you higher, carrying you through the steam toward the tiled alcove where the jets pulsed strongest.

“Hold on tight. I’m not stopping till you’re begging for mercy.”

WINSTON - PARKING LOT

The parking lot behind the old theater was dead quiet after midnight, sodium lights buzzing faintly overhead, painting everything in sickly orange. A few scattered cars sat silent under the glow; Winston’s sleek gray sedan was tucked in the far corner, away from the main exit. He leaned against the hood, arms crossed over his black hoodie, jeans slung low, watching you approach with that slow, predatory grin that always made your stomach flip.

“Thought you’d ghost me after the lights came up,” he said, voice low and rough, pushing off the car to close the distance. “Almost started touching myself right here waiting.”

You stopped inches away, letting your fingers trail down his chest. “Would’ve been hot. But I’d rather do it myself.”

His eyes flashed. He grabbed your wrist, spun you fast so your back hit the warm hood, then caged you with his arms on either side. The kiss was filthy from the start—teeth clashing, tongue deep, one hand sliding up under your skirt to find bare skin. No panties. He groaned into your mouth when his fingers slipped through slick folds.

“Dirty girl,” he muttered, breaking away to nip your jaw. “Came prepared. Knew I’d fuck you out here, didn’t you?”

You smirked. “Hoped.”

He dropped to his knees on the asphalt without hesitation, shoving your skirt higher. His mouth was on you instantly—tongue diving in, licking broad stripes before sucking your clit hard enough to make your hips jerk. You braced one hand on the hood, the other fisting his hair as he ate you like he was starving—two fingers sliding in, curling rough and fast, thumb pressing your clit while he hummed low vibrations against you.

“Winston—fuck—someone could—”

“Let ‘em,” he growled against your pussy. “Want the whole lot to hear how loud you get when I make you come.”

You shattered fast—thighs clamping his head, cry ripping out sharp and unrestrained, pulsing hard against his tongue. He licked you through it, slow and thorough, until you were trembling.

He stood, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes dark and feral. He spun you again, bending you over the hood—palms flat on warm metal, ass up. Jeans unzipped with a quick rasp; he freed himself—thick, leaking—and rubbed the head through your wetness before slamming in one deep thrust.

You both moaned—raw, echoing off the empty cars. He filled you completely, stretching you open, hot and throbbing. His hands gripped your hips, nails digging in as he started pounding—hard, relentless snaps that rocked the car on its suspension.

“Take it,” he panted, one hand sliding up to fist your hair, pulling your head back just enough to arch you more. “Feel how fucking deep I am? Gonna ruin this pretty pussy right here.”

The angle was devastating—hitting that spot over and over. His other hand reached around, fingers rubbing fast, sloppy circles on your clit. Skin slapped wetly; the hood creaked under your palms.

“Come again,” he ordered, voice wrecked. “Squeeze me so tight I can’t hold back.”

You did—back bowing, broken cry tearing out as you clenched hard, walls fluttering wildly around him. He swore viciously, thrusts turning erratic—then buried deep with a guttural groan, spilling hot and thick inside you, hips jerking through every thick pulse.

He stayed seated a long moment, breathing ragged against your neck, lips brushing soft, lazy kisses along your shoulder.

Eventually he eased out, turned you gently, thumbs swiping under your eyes where tears of overstimulation had gathered.

“Still want that drive-thru run?” he murmured, voice hoarse, smirk lazy now. “Or… backseat? I’ve got condoms in the glovebox if you wanna go again slow.”

You laughed, shaky, already tugging him toward the door.

“Backseat. Slow. Then food. You’re paying.”

He grinned—wide, filthy—opening the rear door and guiding you inside with a possessive hand on your ass.

“Anything you want, baby. Long as I get to taste you again after.”

SEAN - DESK

The office was a pocket of silence after hours, the single desk lamp throwing long shadows across the dark wood and half-closed blinds. Sean hadn’t moved from his chair—shirt unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves rolled, tie discarded somewhere on the credenza. When you pushed the door shut behind you, the lock clicked like a promise.

He didn’t speak at first. Just watched you cross the carpet, eyes heavy, tracking the sway of your hips like he was already undressing you in his head.

“Everyone’s gone,” he finally said, voice low, almost conversational. “Told security we’re running late on the quarterly. They won’t bother us.”

You stopped at the edge of his desk, fingers trailing the smooth surface. “Convenient.”

His smile was slow, sharp. “Planned it that way.” He leaned forward, elbows on the arms of the chair. “Come here. Sit.”

You perched on the desk instead—right in front of him—thighs parting just enough that your skirt rode high. His gaze dropped, lingered. One hand reached out, palm sliding up the inside of your thigh, slow, deliberate, stopping when his fingertips brushed damp lace.

“Jesus,” he breathed, thumb pressing lightly against the wet fabric. “You’ve been thinking about this since the meeting this afternoon, haven’t you? When I caught you staring at my mouth.”

“Maybe.” You shifted forward; his thumb slipped under the edge, stroking once through slick heat. “Or maybe I just like the idea of you losing that cool composure on your own desk.”

He stood abruptly, chair rolling back with a soft scrape. Hands gripped your hips, yanking you to the very edge so your ass hung half off. He kissed you then—slow, filthy, tongue stroking deep while he tugged your panties aside and notched two fingers at your entrance.

“Tell me,” he murmured against your lips, voice wrecked already. “How do you want it? Slow and teasing… or hard enough the whole floor knows what we’re doing even if they’re empty?”

“Hard,” you whispered. “Make the desk shake.”

His control fractured. Fingers withdrew; belt clinked open, zipper rasped. He freed himself—thick, flushed, leaking—and rubbed the head through your folds once, twice, coating himself before pushing in slow, deliberate, letting you feel every inch stretch you open.

You both exhaled shakily when he bottomed out. He stayed buried a second—forehead pressed to yours—then started moving. Deep, rolling thrusts that rocked the heavy desk forward an inch with each snap of his hips. Papers slid; a coffee mug teetered and fell with a dull thud.

“Fuck—look at you,” he panted, one hand sliding up to grip your throat lightly, thumb under your jaw, tilting your face so you had to meet his eyes. “Taking me like you were made for it. Right here where I sign million-dollar deals.”

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. He groaned—low, guttural—pace turning sharper, faster. The desk creaked rhythmically now; blinds rattled against the glass. His other hand slipped between you, fingers finding your clit, rubbing tight, relentless circles.

“Gonna come for me?” he rasped, voice cracking. “Gonna soak my cock while I’m balls-deep on my own fucking desk? Say it. Tell me you’re mine right here.”

“I’m yours,” you gasped, nails digging into his shoulders. “Yours—Sean—fuck—”

You shattered—back bowing, cry sharp and unrestrained, walls clamping down hard in pulsing waves. He swore viciously, thrusts stuttering—then slammed deep one last time with a broken groan, spilling hot and thick inside you, hips jerking through every thick pulse.

He stayed pressed close after, breathing ragged against your neck, lips brushing soft, almost reverent kisses along your collarbone.

Eventually he eased out, thumbs swiping damp hair from your temples, eyes softer now.

“Still got that red-eye presentation prep?” he murmured, voice hoarse, a faint, lazy smirk returning. “Or… wanna stay. Let me spread you out on the conference table next door and eat you slow till your legs stop shaking?”

You laughed quietly, already tugging his open shirt to pull him in for another kiss.

“Conference table. But you’re on your back this time. I want to ride your face first.”

His grin flashed—dark, delighted—as he lifted you off the desk, carrying you toward the glass doors with one arm banded around your waist.

“Fuck yes. Anything to hear you moan my name again.”

JULIAN - LIVING ROOM

The living room felt smaller in the late-night hush, TV flickering blue-white across the walls on silent mode, casting shifting shadows over the sectional. Julian lounged in the corner spot, legs stretched out, one arm slung behind his head, gray sweats riding low enough to show the sharp cut of his hips. He hadn’t bothered with a shirt after his shower; skin still warm, hair damp and curling at the ends. When you padded in wearing only his faded band tee—hem skimming the tops of your thighs—his eyes flicked up from his phone, screen forgotten.

“Water run take that long?” he asked, voice low, edged with that teasing drawl. “Or were you in there deciding how much you wanted to torture me tonight?”

You stopped between his knees, letting the tee ride up just enough to flash bare skin. “Maybe I was deciding how loud I wanted to make you beg first.”

His laugh was quiet, dark. He set the phone aside, sat up slow, hands sliding up the backs of your thighs—palms hot, calluses rough—until his fingers dug into the soft flesh just under your ass and pulled you forward.

“Bold tonight,” he murmured, tilting his head back to meet your eyes. “C’mere. Sit on my face and prove it.”

You straddled his lap instead—knees sinking into the cushions—feeling him already thick and hard beneath the sweats. He groaned low when you ground down once, slow and deliberate, the friction dragging a hiss through his teeth.

“No panties again?” His hands shoved the tee higher, bunching it at your waist so he could see exactly how wet you were. “Fuck, you’re soaked. Been thinking about this couch all day, didn’t you? Me bending you over the armrest while the neighbors are asleep.”

You rocked harder; he cursed softly, hips bucking up instinctively. His fingers slipped between you—two sliding in easy, curling deep while his thumb pressed firm circles on your clit.

“Julian—”

“Say it,” he rasped, free hand gripping your hip to control the rhythm. “Tell me you want me to fuck you right here. Slow at first. Then hard enough the cushions remember your shape.”

“I want you inside me,” you breathed, nails digging into his shoulders. “Now. Deep. Don’t stop till I’m shaking.”

He yanked his sweats down just enough—cock springing free, flushed dark and leaking—then guided you down slow, letting you feel every thick inch stretch you open. You both exhaled ragged when he bottomed out; the couch creaked under the shift.

“God—fuck—so tight,” he whispered, forehead pressed to yours for a heartbeat before he started moving—long, rolling thrusts that lifted you slightly each time, dragging against that spot that made your breath hitch.

His hands roamed—one palming your ass, the other sliding up under the tee to cup your breast, thumb flicking your nipple in time with his hips. The TV light danced across his chest; your moans mixed with his low, broken praise.

“Like that?” he panted, snapping up harder now, pace building. “Feel how deep I get? Gonna make you come all over my cock right here where we watch movies like nothing happened.”

You clenched hard—back arching, cry sharp and unrestrained as you shattered, pulsing around him in tight, rolling waves. He swore roughly, thrusts turning erratic—then buried deep with a guttural groan, spilling hot and thick inside you, hips jerking through every pulse.

He held you close after, arms wrapped tight, lips brushing lazy kisses along your neck, your jaw, soft now.

Eventually he eased back, thumbs tracing your thighs, eyes dark but sated.

“Still wanna binge that show?” he murmured, voice wrecked, smirk lazy. “Or… round two on the floor? Rug’s softer than it looks. I want to taste how much you came for me.”

You laughed quietly, already shifting to kiss him slow.

“Floor. But you’re on your back. I’m sitting on your face first.”

His grin flashed—wide, filthy—as he lifted you with him, already lowering to the rug with you wrapped around his waist.

“Fuck yes. Anything to hear you moan louder than the TV.”

[atinyzenflwr]

where i think steadfast boys will wreck you

pairing: steadfast boys x reader

genre: smut

wc: 4.1k

JACE - OFFICE

The office door locks with a quiet snick. Jace doesn’t waste time on words—he spins you, presses your palms flat to his desk, and hikes your skirt up in one swift motion. Your panties are tugged aside, not removed; his belt clinks open, zipper rasps down.

“Flirted with that intern all fucking afternoon,” he murmurs, voice low and edged. “Smiling like you wanted him to think he had a chance.”

You open your mouth to argue—he silences you by thrusting in deep, one hard stroke that stretches you wide and steals your breath. The desk jolts; a pen rolls to the floor.

He sets a punishing rhythm—long pulls out, sharp snaps back in—each one driving him against that spot that makes your knees buckle. His hand fists your hair, tugging your head back so your spine arches perfectly for him.

“Say it,” he growls against your ear. “Who do you belong to?”

“You,” you gasp, voice cracking. “Only you, Jace.”

He rewards you with a brutal grind, hips flush, staying buried while his fingers find your clit and rub tight, ruthless circles. Pleasure coils fast and vicious; you come hard, clenching around him, biting your lip bloody to muffle the cry.

He doesn’t slow. Just fucks you through the aftershocks—faster, harder—until his control snaps. “Gonna fill you up,” he pants. “Mark this cunt so deep you’ll feel me tomorrow in every meeting.”

One last thrust, then he’s grinding in, pulsing hot and thick inside you with a choked groan. You feel every spurt, the way he twitches, the slow drip that starts the second he eases back.

He tugs your panties into place, trapping his come. Smooths your skirt down with deliberate care. His thumb presses once against the damp fabric between your thighs, pushing the mess deeper.

“Keep it in,” he orders softly, kissing the nape of your neck. “No bathroom. No wiping. Walk out feeling me leak down your legs.”

He straightens his tie, unlocks the door.

You step into the bright hallway on shaky legs, thighs slick, every movement a filthy reminder of him inside you.

Jace follows a beat later, calm and professional, like he didn’t just claim you over spreadsheets.

He knows exactly how wrecked you are.

And he loves it.

MARK - BEDROOM

The bedroom smells like rain and Mark’s cologne—clean, woodsy, a little sharp. He’s waiting when you walk in, leaning against the headboard in nothing but gray sweatpants, the outline of him already thick and obvious against the fabric.

“Door,” he says quietly. You lock it without a word.

He crooks a finger. You cross the room; he pulls you onto his lap, straddling him. His hands slide up your thighs, under the hem of your oversized tee—his tee—finding bare skin, no panties. A low hum of approval vibrates in his chest.

“Been wet thinking about me?” His fingers dip between your folds, slick and easy. You nod, rocking down instinctively. He catches your hip, stilling you. “Use your words.”

“Yes,” you breathe. “All day.”

He kisses you then—slow at first, then deeper, tongue sliding against yours while he works two fingers inside, curling them just right. You moan into his mouth; he swallows it, thumb circling your clit in lazy, torturous strokes until your thighs tremble.

“Need you,” you whisper against his lips.

He flips you onto your back in one smooth motion, sweatpants shoved down just enough. No preamble—he notches himself and sinks in slow, letting you feel every inch stretch you open. When he’s fully seated, he pauses, forehead to yours, breathing hard.

“Look at me.”

Your eyes meet his—dark, intense. He starts moving: long, deliberate rolls of his hips that drag against every sensitive spot. The mattress dips; the headboard taps the wall softly. Your legs hook around his waist; he braces on his forearms, caging you, pace building until skin slaps skin.

“Mark—” Your voice cracks.

“Say my name when you come,” he growls. One hand slips between you, rubbing tight circles over your clit. Pleasure coils fast and vicious; you shatter around him, clenching hard, crying his name like a plea.

He fucks you through it—harder, deeper—then grinds in flush, pulsing hot and thick inside you with a rough groan. You feel every spurt, the warmth flooding you.

He doesn’t pull out right away. Just stays buried, softening slowly, kissing your temple, your cheek, your mouth.

“Stay full of me tonight,” he murmurs, voice wrecked but soft. “No getting up. I want you leaking my come when we wake up.”

He rolls you both to the side, still connected, arms locked around you. His hand rests low on your belly, possessive.

JEREMIAH - BACKSEAT

The car pulls into the deserted supermarket parking lot well after closing—far end, behind the row of shopping carts and the dim glow of the loading bay lights. Jeremiah kills the engine; the sudden quiet settles heavy, broken only by the faint hum of distant traffic and the occasional flicker of a security lamp.

He’s already shifted to the backseat when you climb in after him—door locked, front seat pushed forward as far as it goes. The faint smell of bleach from the store lingers on the night air outside.

He doesn’t speak. Just hauls you over his lap the second the door clicks shut, thighs straddling his, your short dress riding up instantly. His hands slide underneath, palms rough on your bare ass—no underwear, exactly like he ordered before you left the apartment.

“Good girl,” he mutters, voice low and wrecked. Fingers dig in, spreading you open. He’s hard beneath you, jeans unzipped, cock thick and leaking against his stomach. He grips the base, notches the head at your entrance, and pulls you down in one slow, deliberate slide.

You bite your lip hard as he fills you—inch by thick inch—until your ass meets his thighs and he’s buried deep. The stretch burns sweet; you rock forward instinctively. He clamps both hands on your hips, holding you still.

“Stay,” he growls against your collarbone. “Feel how deep I am. How fucking full.”

He starts moving you himself—lifting and dropping you in short, controlled bounces that make the car creak on its frame. Your knees press into the leather; his mouth finds your throat, sucking a bruise you’ll have to hide tomorrow. Each downward thrust grinds him right against that spot that makes your breath hitch.

The windows fog white in seconds. The faint blue-white glow from the supermarket sign bleeds across his face. Your nails scrape the back of his neck; he hisses, pace turning rougher—faster—until the whole vehicle rocks faintly on its suspension.

“Gonna come inside you right here,” he pants, one hand sliding up to fist your hair, tugging your head back so he can watch your face. “Pump this pussy full so when we walk back in for that last thing we forgot, you’re dripping down your legs under that little dress. Everyone wondering why you’re walking funny.”

The words snap something in you. You clench hard around him, gasping his name as the orgasm hits—sharp, shuddering. He fucks up into you through it—erratic, desperate—then grinds deep, hips locked flush as he spills hot and thick with a choked groan. Pulse after pulse, warmth flooding you, then starting to leak around his cock.

He keeps you seated on him, softening slowly, letting the mess settle. His thumb swipes through the slick on your inner thigh, pushes it back inside with a lazy press.

“Don’t move yet,” he murmurs, kissing the corner of your mouth. “Sit on my dick a minute. Let it soak in.”

Finally he helps you off, tugs your dress down over sticky thighs—no panties to catch anything. He zips up, smooths his hoodie, then opens the door.

Cool night air rushes in, carrying the faint scent of wet asphalt and cardboard from the nearby dumpsters.

You step out first, feeling the slow, warm trickle start immediately—sliding down your thigh with every step toward the automatic doors.

Jeremiah follows, hand possessive on your lower back as you head back inside the bright, empty supermarket.

He leans in close just before the doors whoosh open, voice barely audible over the low hum of the fluorescents.

“Feel that leaking out of you?”

You nod, thighs pressing together.

He smirks—small, dark, satisfied.

“Good. Keep it in till we get home. I’m not done filling you tonight.”

JAMIE - CHANGING ROOM

The changing room was empty, lights dimmed after the last teammate left. The air still carried the mix of steam, sweat, and Jamie’s citrus body wash.

He leaned against the lockers, towel low on his hips, water droplets tracing slow paths down his chest. His eyes locked on you the second you dropped your soaked shirt.

“You’re staring,” he said, voice rough, amused.

“You’ve been staring since I peeled this off.” You stepped closer, barefoot on cold tile.

Jamie’s mouth curved. Dangerous. “Yeah. I have.”

His hand caught the back of your neck, thumb brushing damp hair, pulling you into a hard, open-mouthed kiss. Teeth grazed your lip. You tasted salt and mint. His other palm slid to your waist, guiding until your thigh pressed against his.

The towel slipped lower. Neither of you fixed it.

You broke away to drag your mouth down his throat, feeling his pulse jump. He groaned—low, wrecked—hips rolling forward so his cock nudged your stomach through the thin fabric.

“So fucking hard since you stripped,” he muttered.

Your hand slid down, palming him. Hot. Thick. Already leaking. Jamie’s head thudded back against metal.

“Take it off.”

You tugged the knot. Towel hit the floor.

He was flushed, heavy, curving up. You stroked once, slow. His abs clenched.

“Want your mouth,” he rasped.

You dropped to your knees. Took him in—slow swirl over the tip, then deeper. His fingers twisted in your hair, not forcing, just holding. You hollowed your cheeks; he cursed softly, hips jerking once before he caught himself.

“Fuck—do that again.”

You moaned around him. That broke him. Short, careful thrusts turned harder. Drool slicked your chin. His breathing turned ragged.

He pulled out abruptly. “Up.”

He spun you, palms slapping lockers. Cold metal against your nipples. He kicked your feet apart, pressed along your back, cock sliding between your cheeks.

“Tell me you want it.”

“I want it,” you breathed. “Inside. Now.”

He pushed in—one long stroke. You both groaned. He filled you completely, stretching, hot. Forehead to your shoulder, he muttered, “So fucking tight.”

Then he moved. Hard. Deep. Lockers rattled. His arm banded your waist, holding you steady. The angle hit perfect—again, again—until your legs shook.

His hand slid to your throat, possessive but gentle. “Gonna come like this? Bent over with me inside you?”

“Yes—Jamie—”

His fingers found your clit, rubbing fast. “Come for me. Let me feel it.”

You shattered—back arching, cry muffled against your arm, pulsing around him. He swore, slammed deep, came with a long groan, hips jerking as he spilled inside.

He stayed buried a moment, breathing hard, lips brushing your shoulder.

Eventually he pulled out slow, turned you, thumbs wiping under your eyes.

“Shower’s still running,” he murmured, kissing you softer now. “Round two?”

You laughed, shaky. “Carry me. Legs are gone.”

He grinned—filthy, boyish—and scooped you up.

“Deal."

ANDY - BASKETBALL COURT

The outdoor basketball court was quiet under the late afternoon sun, the kind of golden light that made sweat glisten like it was intentional. Practice had ended twenty minutes ago—teammates gone, balls racked, only the faint echo of distant traffic and the occasional bounce of a lone dribble.

Andy stood at the free-throw line, shirt off, shorts slung low, still dribbling lazily between his legs like he had all the time in the world. His skin was flushed from the run, dark hair damp and sticking to his forehead. He was always like this after—playful energy lingering, refusing to wind down.

You leaned against the chain-link fence, arms crossed, watching him. “You gonna keep showing off those handles or actually shoot?”

He grinned, that signature cocky, teasing one that made your stomach flip. “Why? Jealous I’m better with my hands than you are?” He spun the ball on his finger, eyes flicking to you. “Come here. Bet you can’t block me.”

You pushed off the fence, stepping onto the court. “Bet you can’t make it past me.”

Andy laughed—low, playful—and bounced the ball once, hard. Then he was moving, quick crossover, shoulder fake. You slid your feet, hands up, but he was faster, slipping right, bumping you just enough to feel the heat of his bare chest against yours. The contact lingered a second too long.

He pulled up at the elbow, jumper form perfect—then paused mid-release, ball hovering. “You distracted?” he murmured, voice dropping. “Eyes on my abs instead of the ball?”

“Shut up,” you muttered, but you were already closing the gap.

He dropped the ball. It rolled away forgotten as his hands found your waist, yanking you flush against him. “Your turn to guard me,” he teased, lips brushing your ear. “Or… let me score.”

You tilted your head back; his mouth crashed down—hungry, messy, tasting like Gatorade and salt. His tongue teased yours, playful even now, nipping your bottom lip when you tried to pull away just to make you chase.

Hands roamed. Yours slid up his back, nails digging into slick skin; his slipped under your tank, thumb brushing the underside of your breast, then higher, rolling a nipple until you gasped into his mouth.

“Fuck, Andy—”

He spun you, backing you against the padded pole at the baseline. The metal was warm from the sun. He dropped to one knee, yanking your shorts and underwear down in one rough tug. No preamble. His mouth was on you before you could blink—tongue flat, licking a slow stripe up your center, then circling your clit with that same teasing precision he used on crossovers.

You gripped his hair, hips bucking. “Andy—someone could—”

“Let ‘em watch,” he mumbled against you, voice vibrating. Two fingers slid in, curling just right, pumping steady while his tongue flicked faster. Playful Andy was gone; this was focused, filthy intent.

Your thighs shook. He sucked hard—once, twice—and you came with a choked cry, knees buckling. He stood, catching you, kissing you deep so you tasted yourself on him.

He turned you around, bent you forward slightly, hands braced on the pole. Shorts shoved down just enough, he notched himself—thick, hard, leaking—and pushed in slow, savoring your moan.

“God, so tight,” he groaned, starting to thrust—deep, deliberate, each one rocking you forward. His hand snaked around, rubbing messy circles on your clit again. “Gonna make you come again. Right here on the court.”

You pushed back, meeting him. Skin slapped skin, echoing faintly. His free hand gripped your hip, pace picking up—harder, faster.

“Fuck—Andy—”

He buried deep, hips stuttering, coming with a low, wrecked groan, filling you hot and pulsing. You clenched around him, tipping over the edge again, trembling.

He stayed pressed inside a moment, breathing ragged against your neck, then kissed your shoulder—soft now, playful again.

“Rematch tomorrow?” he whispered, smirking. “Loser buys dinner… winner gets round two in the locker room.”

You laughed, breathless. “You’re on.”

SHAWN - POOLSIDE

The pool water shimmered under the late-afternoon sun, warm and lazy, the villa silent except for the soft ripple when Shawn shifted on the lounger. Everyone else had disappeared inside hours ago—siesta, drinks, whatever—leaving just the two of you, skin still sun-hot, chlorine-scented.

He was sprawled on his back now, arms behind his head, dark swim trunks riding low, the deep V of his hips catching every drop of water that slid down his abs. Sunglasses pushed up into messy curls, he watched you approach with that slow, knowing grin.

“Took you long enough,” he drawled, voice husky from the sun and earlier teasing. “Thought maybe you were avoiding me.”

You straddled the lounger instead of him, knees bracketing his thighs, hovering just close enough that your wet bikini bottoms brushed the front of his trunks. “Avoiding? Nah. Just making you wait.”

His hands found your hips immediately, thumbs hooking under the ties, tugging playfully. “Cruel.”

You leaned down, lips brushing his jaw. “You like it.”

He groaned when your mouth met his—slow, filthy kiss, tongues sliding, tasting sunscreen and salt. His hands roamed up your back, fingers splaying wide, pulling you down until your chest pressed to his. You felt him harden fast beneath you, thick and insistent against your core through the thin layers.

“Fuck, baby,” he muttered against your lips. “Been half-hard watching you swim laps. That ass in the water…”

You rocked your hips once—deliberate grind—and he hissed, head tipping back. His fingers dug in, guiding you into a slower rhythm, the friction building heat between you.

You reached down, slipping your hand into his trunks. He was rock-hard, velvet-hot, tip already slick. You stroked him lazy—base to head—watching his abs flex, breath catch.

“Tease,” he accused, but his voice cracked.

You smirked, tugged his trunks lower. He lifted his hips to help, cock springing free, flushed dark against his stomach. You shifted your bottoms aside, positioned yourself, then sank down slow—inch by inch—until he was buried deep.

Both of you moaned, low and wrecked. The lounger creaked under the movement. His hands gripped your ass, holding you steady as you started to ride—slow rolls at first, then picking up, water from your skin dripping onto his chest.

“God—you’re so fucking tight,” he panted, one hand sliding up to palm your breast, thumb circling your nipple through the wet fabric. “Ride me just like that. Yeah—fuck—”

You leaned forward, bracing on his shoulders, changing the angle so he hit deeper. His hips snapped up to meet you, short, hard thrusts that made the lounger rock dangerously. Skin slapped wetly; the pool water lapped louder in response.

His other hand found your clit, rubbing messy, perfect circles. “Come on, baby—let me feel you. Come all over my cock right here where anyone could walk out.”

The thought—risky, exposed—tipped you fast. You clenched around him, cry muffled against his neck as you shattered, pulsing hard. He swore roughly, hips stuttering, then buried deep with a long groan, coming hot and thick inside you, thighs trembling.

He held you there after, both breathing hard, his lips brushing your temple.

Eventually he chuckled—soft, sated. “Think the hot tub’s still warm?”

You lifted your head, smirking. “Only one way to find out.”

He grinned, already shifting to scoop you up, legs wrapped around his waist as he carried you toward the glowing blue lights at the far end.

“Round two, then. And this time I’m on top.”

[atinyzenflwr]

seoul lights and whispered vows

pairing: altuniverse!seonghwa (shiloah) x reader

genre: romance, fluff, smut

wc: 5.3k

summary: one magical night under the rainbow fountain lights of banpo bridge, a quiet night and a velvet box change everything. what begins as a romantic walk along the han river blooms into whispered vows, jeju honeymoon nights wrapped in ocean salt and skin, and the soft wonder of discovering they’re building more than just memories—they’re building a family. through city sunsets, gentle touches, and promises made in the glow of fairy lights, their love grows deeper, quieter, fuller… until a little one arrives, carrying the meaning of freedom in her name. seoul’s skyline stays their quiet witness, forever framing the life they chose together.

Isang gabi sa Han River, Seoul, na parang hinabi mismo ng tadhana para sa inyong dalawa lang. Malamig ang hangin ng Pebrero, pero hindi mo iyon nararamdaman nang buo dahil sa init na dumadaloy mula sa kamay ni Shiloah—matatag na hinahawakan ang sa iyo, parang ayaw na niyang pakawalan kahit sandali. Kayo ay naglalakad nang dahan-dahan sa kahabaan ng Banpo Hangang Park, kung saan ang sikat na Banpo Bridge Moonlight Rainbow Fountain ay nagsisimula nang magpakita ng kanyang magic.

Ang fountain ay sumasayaw sa ritmo ng musika, naglalabas ng tubig na umaabot hanggang 20 metro ang taas mula sa magkabilang gilid ng tulay, habang libu-libong LED lights ang nagpapalit-palit ng kulay—rosas, asul, lila, berde, dilaw—na sumasalamin sa madilim na tubig ng Han River. Parang buhay na pintura ang buong tanawin, at sa gabi na ito, parang lalong nagiging makulay dahil alam mong may espesyal na mangyayari.

Akala mo simpleng romantic walk lang 'to pagkatapos ng hapunan niyo sa isang maliit na restaurant malapit sa Express Bus Terminal. Naglakad kayo mula doon, huminto muna sa isang convenience store para bumili ng mainit na canned coffee at hawakan ang isa't isa habang nagkukuwentuhan tungkol sa araw niyo. Sinabi mo sa kanya kung gaano ka na-miss ang simpleng bagay na 'to—maglakad lang kayo nang walang plano, walang oras na kailangang sundin. Tumawa siya nang mahina, hinaplos ang likod ng kamay mo gamit ang hinlalaki niya, at sinabing, "Darling, tonight is all about us. Walang rush."

Pero habang lumalalim ang gabi, napansin mo ang pagbabago sa kanya. Mas matagal niyang hinahawakan ang kamay mo, parang iniingatan ito. Tuwing humihinto kayo para tingnan ang fountain, hinahalikan niya ang noo mo nang mahabang-mahaba, parang may sinasabi ang bawat halik na hindi pa niya nasasabi sa salita. Tuwing tinitingnan ka niya, parang ikaw lang ang nakikita niya—ang city lights, ang fountain, ang lahat ng tao sa paligid ay nawawala sa background.

Nang makarating kayo sa isang medyo liblib na parte ng damuhan malapit sa Jamwon area—kung saan may mga natirang pink muhly grass na sumasayaw pa rin kahit hindi peak season—bigla siyang tumigil. Hinila ka niya ng marahan palapit sa isang malaking puno na may nakabitin na maliliit na fairy lights, parang Christmas lights pero mas malambot ang glow. Sa paligid, unti-unting nag-iilaw ang isang setup na malinaw na inayos niya nang maaga: dose-dosenang heart-shaped candles na nakalagay sa lupa sa hugis ng puso, maliliit na lanterns na nakasabit sa mga sanga, at isang maliit na wooden table na may puting tablecloth. Sa ibabaw nito, libu-libong polaroid pictures niyo—mula sa unang beses na nagkita kayo sa isang coffee shop sa Hongdae, sa awkward first date niyo sa Myeongdong, sa mga late-night walks sa Itaewon, sa mga yakap niyo sa madaling-araw pagkatapos ng mahabang araw, hanggang sa mga simpleng selfies niyo sa rooftop ng apartment niyo.

Napatingin ka sa kanya, mata mo ay nanlalaki sa gulat at saya. "Shiloah... ano 'to?"

Ngumiti siya nang mahina, pero kita mo ang kaba sa mata niya—halo ng excitement, nerbiyos, at sobrang pag-ibig. Hinawakan niya ang magkabilang pisngi mo gamit ang dalawang kamay niya—mainit, matatag, pamilyar na haplos na lagi mong hinintay sa bawat araw.

"Darling," bulong niya, boses na parang velvet na haplos sa puso mo. Yung tawag na 'yan—darling—lagi niyong gamit kapag deep na deep na ang usapan, kapag gusto niyang maramdaman mo na ikaw lang talaga ang sentro ng mundo niya. "Alam mo ba kung gaano kalaki ang pagmamahal ko sa'yo?"

Napangiti ka, pero ramdam mo ang biglaang kabog sa dibdib mo. "Syempre naman... pero bakit parang may iba ka pang sasabihin? Ang lalim ng tingin mo ngayon, parang may binabalak ka."

Tumawa siya nang mahina, pero may bahid ng emosyon. Bigla siyang lumuhod sa harap mo—isang tuhod lang sa damuhan—pero parang tumigil ang buong mundo. Ang fountain sa malayo ay nasa pinakamagandang parte ng show nito, ang tubig ay sumasayaw sa pink at purple lights, parang nagse-celebrate na rin para sa inyo.

Sa paligid niyo, unti-unting nagiging mas maliwanag ang setup. May maliliit na speakers na tahimik na tumutugtog ng inyong favorite slow song—yung kanta na lagi niyong pinapakinggan kapag magkayakap kayo sa sofa. Binuksan niya ang isang maliit na velvet box na nasa bulsa niya. Doon, ang singsing—simple pero napakaperpekto: isang slim gold band na may maliit na solitaire diamond sa gitna, yung klaseng alam niyang matagal mo nang pinapangarap mula pa noong nag-uusap kayo tungkol sa future niyo. Sumasalamin ito sa ilaw ng candles at sa rainbow fountain sa likuran.

"Darling," ulit niya, boses niya medyo nanginig pero puno ng katapatan. "Mula noong una kitang nakita, parang may nagising sa loob ko na matagal nang natutulog. Ikaw 'yung tahimik na liwanag na biglang nagbigay ng kulay sa buhay ko na dati'y puro gray at routine lang. Sa unang pagkikita natin, naisip ko na, 'Sino 'tong taong 'to na parang pamilyar na kahit hindi pa natin kilala?'"

Tumingala siya, mata niyang naka-lock sa'yo, parang wala nang ibang tao sa paligid—kahit ang ilaw ng Seoul skyline ay nawawala sa paningin niya. "Sa bawat tawa natin sa mga random na biro, sa bawat haplos mo sa mukha ko kapag pagod ako, sa bawat gabing magkayakap tayo hanggang makatulog kahit sobrang init ng kwarto... naramdaman ko na ikaw 'yung hinintay ko buong buhay ko. Hindi ko alam na posible palang maramdaman 'yung ganito—yung pakiramdam na ligtas ka, masaya ka, at buo ka kapag kasama mo siya."

Lumalim ang emosyon sa boses niya habang nagpapatuloy siya. "Gusto ko sanang gugulin ang bawat araw sa tabi mo. Sa umagang gigising tayo magkasama, na ikaw ang unang makikita ko, na ang unang salita ko sa araw ay 'good morning, darling.' Sa tanghali na magse-send tayo ng random messages tungkol sa kung ano'ng kinakain natin, sa hapon na maghihintay ako sa'yo sa labas ng work mo kahit maulan, sa gabi na magkukuwentuhan tayo hanggang madaling-araw tungkol sa dreams natin, sa mga takot natin, sa mga bagay na gusto nating gawin together."

May bahid ng luha sa mata niya ngayon, pero hindi niya pinansin. "Sa lahat ng pagsubok na darating—pagod sa work, misunderstandings, family issues, kahit mga maliliit na away—ikaw pa rin ang pipiliin ko, lagi. Gusto ko 'yung future na may tayo sa gitna: maglalakbay tayo sa mga lugar na pinapangarap natin, magkakaroon tayo ng sariling tahanan na puno ng tawa at alaala, magiging tayo 'yung mag-asawang lagi pa ring magka-holding hands kahit matanda na tayo."

Kumuha siya ng malalim na hininga. "Kaya dito, sa pinakamagandang lugar na madalas nating pinupuntahan, sa ilalim ng Seoul lights, sa harap ng rainbow fountain na parang nagse-celebrate para sa atin... darling, will you marry me? Will you let me love you, protect you, cherish you, and hold you forever? Will you be my wife, my partner, my everything?"

Hindi mo na napigilan ang luha. Tumulo ito nang sunud-sunod habang tumatango ka nang paulit-ulit, boses mo mahina pero puno ng sigurado at saya. "Yes... yes, darling. Oo, oo, habangbuhay na oo. Sobrang oo."

Tumayo siya agad, hinila ka sa pinakamahigpit na yakap na naranasan mo. Ramdam mo ang tibok ng puso niya na tumutugma sa iyo—mabilis, excited, puno ng aliw. Hinagkan ka niya sa noo, sa mga mata na puno ng luha, sa pisngi, tapos sa labi—yung halik na malalim, mainit, puno ng pangako at pag-ibig na parang sinasabi, "Sa wakas, akin ka na talaga habangbuhay."

Sa paligid niyo, biglang nagkalat ang pink at white confetti na dahan-dahang bumagsak mula sa itaas—parang snow na gawa sa purong pag-ibig. May maliit na hidden mechanism siyang inayos kasama ng isang trusted friend para mag-release nito sa tamang timing. Walang ibang tao maliban sa inyong dalawa; private, intimate, para lang talaga sa inyo.

Habang yakap-yakap pa rin kayo, tumingin ka sa paligid: sa mga ilaw ng city na sumasalamin sa tubig tulad ng milyong bituin, sa rainbow fountain na patuloy na sumasayaw sa kulay-rosas at asul, sa mga candles na nagbibigay ng malambot na liwanag sa mukha niyo. Ang hangin ay malamig pa rin, pero ang init sa dibdib mo ay sapat na para painitin ang buong gabi.

"Darling," bulong mo sa kanya, mukha mo nakabaon sa leeg niya, inhaling his familiar scent—yung halo ng cologne niya at ng fresh air mula sa river. "Hindi ko inexpect na ganito... pero grabe, sobrang saya ko. Parang pangarap lang 'to."

Hinaplos niya ang buhok mo nang marahan, hinagkan ulit ang noo mo nang mahabang-mahaba. "Ako rin, sobrang saya. Pero alam mo ba? Ito pa lang ang simula ng forever natin. Araw-araw ko pang ipapakita kung gaano kita kamahal—sa maliliit na bagay, sa malalaking desisyon, sa lahat ng oras na magkasama tayo. Promise. Forever tayo, ha? Walang iwanan."

Tumango ka, pisngi mo ay basa pa rin ng luha pero puno ng ngiti. Inilagay niya ang singsing sa daliri mo—perpektong sukat, parang ginawa talaga para sa'yo. Hinawakan niyo ang kamay ng isa't isa, tinitingnan ang singsing na sumasalamin sa ilaw ng fountain.

Naglakad kayo ulit nang dahan-dahan, pero ngayon ay magka-holding hands na may singsing na, parang bagong chapter na nagsisimula. Habang pinapanood niyo ang huling show ng fountain para sa gabing 'yon, niyakap ka niya mula sa likuran, baba niya nakasandal sa balikat mo.

"Sa tingin mo, anong unang gagawin natin pag-uwi?" tanong niya nang mahina.

Ngumiti ka. "Magplano ng wedding? O matulog lang muna nang magkayakap, kasi sobrang overwhelmed ako sa saya?"

Tawa niya ang sumagot, malambot at puno ng pagmamahal. "Both. Lahat ng plano natin, gagawin natin together."

At sa ilalim ng romantic na gabi ng Seoul, sa tabi ng Han River na puno ng ilaw at pangarap, alam mong totoo 'yon. Kayo na, walang hanggan.

Isang buwan pagkatapos ng proposal sa Han River, nagsimula na ang pagpaplano para sa inyong kasal. Si Shiloah, na laging organized at thoughtful, agad na nag-set ng meeting kayo sa isang maliit na wedding planner na kilala sa Seoul para sa intimate at meaningful celebrations. Gusto niyo pareho na panatilihin ang magic ng gabing 'yon—romantic, personal, at may touch ng Korean culture na nagbigay ng depth sa inyong pag-ibig.

Una kayong nagdesisyon sa venue: Aston House sa Walkerhill area, isang European-style private house na may stunning view ng Han River. Parang extension ng inyong proposal spot—may garden na puno ng green at flowers, floor-to-ceiling windows na nagpapakita ng city skyline at river lights, at feeling na secluded kahit nasa gitna ng Seoul. Perfect para sa 80-100 guests lang, intimate pero elegant. Nag-book kayo para sa tagsibol—April, kapag nagsisimula nang mamulaklak ang cherry blossoms sa paligid ng Han River parks, para maging backdrop ng pastel pinks at whites.

Ang theme? Modern Korean fusion—maliit na Western ceremony sa umaga, followed by traditional elements sa hapon, at reception na mix ng both worlds. Gusto mong magsuot ng classic white gown para sa main ceremony, pero may subtle Korean embroidery sa veil at train. Si Shiloah naman, black tuxedo na may Korean-inspired cufflinks na may hanbok motif. Pero ang highlight: pareho kayong magpapalit ng hanbok para sa paebaek ceremony.

Nang dumating ang araw ng kasal, umaga pa lang, ramdam mo na ang butterflies. Sa preparation room ng Aston House, habang inaayos ng makeup artist ang iyong hair at makeup, nakatingin ka sa salamin—parang hindi ka mismo. Pero nang makita mo si Shiloah sa hallway, naka-tuxedo na, bigla na lang tumigil ang mundo ulit. Hinawakan niya ang kamay mo, bulong niya, "Darling, you're breathtaking. Ready na ba tayo para sa forever natin officially?"

Ang ceremony ay simple pero puno ng emosyon. Sa garden, may arch na covered ng white roses at fairy lights, overlooking ang Han River na sumasalamin sa araw. Naglakad ka sa aisle habang tumutugtog ang inyong favorite instrumental version ng isang K-indie song. Sa harap, nag-exchange kayo ng vows na sinulat niyo pareho—yung vows na puno ng inside jokes, promises tungkol sa future travels, lazy Sundays, at pagiging each other's safe place kahit sa pinakamahirap na araw.

"Darling," sabi niya sa vows niya, boses na medyo nanginig ulit tulad noong proposal, "mula sa unang gabing naglakad tayo sa Han River hanggang ngayon, ikaw ang constant ko. Promise ko, sa bawat sunrise at sunset, ikaw pa rin ang pipiliin ko. Sa lahat ng adventures, sa lahat ng tahimik na moments, sa lahat ng bagay na darating—I'll be there, holding your hand, loving you more every day."

Tumulo ulit ang luha mo, pero this time, mixed with pure joy. "Yes, darling. Habangbuhay na oo, lagi."

Pagkatapos ng "I do's" at first kiss bilang asawa, nagpalit kayo ng damit para sa paebaek. Sa isang separate indoor room na inayos na parang traditional Korean setup—may low table na may dates, chestnuts, at tea set, painted screens sa likod, at soft hanbok music sa background.

Ikaw, naka-red hanbok na may intricate gold embroidery, flowing skirt, at jokduri crown. Si Shiloah, blue hanbok na may depois overcoat at gat hat. Ang inyong parents—naka-hanbok din—nakaupo sa harap. Ito ang parte kung saan formally tinatanggap ka bilang bahagi ng pamilya niya.

Nag-bow kayo nang malalim sa parents niya, offering tea nang may respeto. Tapos, naghagis sila ng dates at chestnuts sa inyo— simbolo ng fertility at good fortune. Tumawa kayo nang mahina habang sinusubukang saluhin ang mga ito gamit ang skirt mo, classic paebaek moment na lagi ring nakakatawa at heartwarming. Si Shiloah, piggyback ride mo siya nang mahina—yung tradition na nagpapakita ng strength at protection niya sa'yo. Ramdam mo ang saya ng lahat sa room—family laughs, claps, at puro pagmamahal.

Pagkatapos ng paebaek, nag-move kayo sa reception. Sa garden ulit, pero ngayon ay gabi na. Ang Han River ay parang liquid lights sa ilalim ng city skyline. May live acoustic band na tumutugtog ng mix ng K-pop ballads at Western love songs. Ang food? Fusion din—Korean BBQ stations, Western plated dinner, at dessert table na may macarons shaped like hearts at traditional Korean sweets tulad ng songpyeon.

Habang nagda-dance kayo sa first dance, yakap-yakap, bulong mo sa kanya, "Grabe, asawa na kita ngayon. Parang kahapon lang tayo nagkakilala."

Ngumiti siya, hinaplos ang pisngi mo. "Oo, darling. Pero parang matagal na rin nating alam na tayo 'to. This is just the official start."

Sa gitna ng reception, may surprise kayo pareho—fireworks display sa ibabaw ng Han River, small pero colorful, parang mini version ng rainbow fountain noong proposal night. Nagtinginan kayo, tawa at luha ulit.

Pagkatapos ng lahat—pagod pero masaya—naglakad kayo sa riverside path malapit sa venue, magka-holding hands, wedding rings glinting sa ilaw. "Ano'ng next chapter natin?" tanong mo.

"Everything," sagot niya. "Honeymoon sa Jeju muna, tapos bumalik dito sa Seoul para magsimula ng life natin together. Bahay, pamilya, adventures—lahat, with you."

At sa ilalim ng parehong stars na nakita niyo noong gabing nag-propose siya, alam mong ito na talaga—ang simula ng inyong forever. Kayo na, asawa at asawa, walang hanggan, sa gitna ng Seoul lights at Han River magic.

Pagkatapos ng kasal sa Seoul, nag-flight kayo diretso sa Jeju Island para sa honeymoon—ang perfect escape para sa inyong bagong simula bilang mag-asawa. Nag-check in kayo sa isang luxury ocean-view villa sa Aewol area, yung klaseng may floor-to-ceiling windows na diretso sa dagat, private infinity pool sa balcony, at malaking bathtub na overlooking ang turquoise waves. Ang unang araw niyo ay puro relaxation: beach walks sa Gwakji Beach, fresh seafood sa seaside restaurants, at lazy afternoons na magkayakap lang kayo sa sun lounger habang pinapanood ang sunset.

Pero ang pinaka-inaabangan niyo pareho—ang gabi. Ang unang gabi bilang mag-asawa sa honeymoon suite.

Nang gabing 'yon, pag-uwi niyo mula sa romantic dinner sa isang restaurant na may view ng Hallasan Mountain, ramdam mo na ang init sa hangin kahit malamig ang sea breeze. Si Shiloah ay tahimik pero may kakaibang lambing sa bawat galaw—hinawakan ka niya sa bewang habang naglalakad kayo papasok sa villa, hinahalikan ang likod ng leeg mo nang dahan-dahan habang binubuksan ang pinto.

Sa loob, low lights lang mula sa bedside lamps at ilang scattered candles na nagbibigay ng golden glow. May rose petals na nakakalat sa king-sized bed, white sheets na crisp at inviting, at isang bottle ng champagne na malamig sa ice bucket. Ang malaking sliding door ay bukas, papasok ang tunog ng alon at mahinang hangin na may amoy ng dagat.

"Darling," bulong niya habang hinila ka palapit sa kama, kamay niya sa pisngi mo, mata niyang naka-lock sa'yo. "Asawa na kita ngayon. Officially. Hindi ko pa rin makapaniwala."

Ngumiti ka, puso mo ay mabilis na tumitibok. "Ako rin. Parang pangarap pa rin 'to."

Hinila ka niya sa mahinang yakap muna, noo niya nakadikit sa noo mo, breathing each other's air. Tapos, dahan-dahan niyang hinubad ang strap ng iyong light sundress, letting it fall to the floor. Ramdam mo ang init ng kamay niya sa balat mo habang hinahaplos ang likod mo, pababa sa bewang, pababa pa. Walang rush—parang gusto niyang maramdaman ang bawat segundo.

Ikaw naman, hinila mo ang polo niya, hinaplos ang dibdib niya, nararamdaman ang tibok ng puso niya na kasing-bilis ng sa'yo. "I love you, asawa ko," bulong mo habang hinahalikan siya nang malalim, labi niyo ay naglalaro, dila niyo ay naghahalikan nang mainit at puno ng pangako.

Bigla niyang hinila ka sa kama, hiniga ka nang marahan sa gitna ng rose petals. Sumandal siya sa ibabaw mo, hinahalikan ang leeg mo, pababa sa collarbone, sa dibdib—bawat halik ay parang sinasabi na "ikaw lang, lagi." Hinawakan mo ang likod niya, hinila siya palapit, ramdam mo ang tigas ng katawan niya laban sa'yo.

Dahan-dahan niyang hinubad ang natitira pang damit niyo pareho, walang salitang binibitawan, puro haplos at halik lang. Nang wala na kayong suot, hiniga niya ang sarili niya sa tabi mo muna, hinawakan ang mukha mo, tinitingnan ka nang matagal. "You're so beautiful, darling. My wife."

Tumango ka, luha ng saya sa mata mo. "And you're mine. Forever."

Hinila ka niya ulit sa ibabaw niya this time, hinayaan kang mag-lead. Hinawakan mo ang balikat niya para sa suporta habang dahan-dahan mong pinapasok siya sa'yo—ramdam mo ang init, ang pagiging buo, ang perpektong pagkakabagay niyo. Napahalinghing kayo pareho nang sabay, mata niyo ay magkadikit.

Nagsimula kayo nang dahan-dahan, rhythmic, parang sayaw na matagal niyo nang pinag-eensayo. Ang bawat galaw ay puno ng pag-ibig—hindi lang passion, kundi yung deep connection na nagsimula sa Han River. Hinawakan niya ang balakang mo, gumagabay pero hinahayaan kang mag-set ng pace. Habang lumalalim ang ritmo, lumalakas ang hininga niyo, lumalakas ang moans—puno ng pangalan ng isa't isa.

"Darling... oh god, darling," bulong niya habang hinahalikan ang dibdib mo, hinahaplos ang likod mo nang mahigpit.

"Asawa ko... faster, please," sagot mo, boses mo ay mahina pero puno ng pangangailangan.

Tumugon siya agad—mas mabilis, mas malalim, mas intense. Hinila ka niya pababa para maghalikan kayo nang sabay habang patuloy ang galaw. Ramdam mo ang build-up, yung init na kumakalat sa buong katawan mo, yung tension na malapit nang sumabog.

Nang malapit na, hinawakan niya ang mukha mo, pinilit kang tumingin sa kanya. "Together, ha? Sabay tayo."

Tumango ka. Ilang galaw pa—malalim, passionate—hanggang sa labasan kayo pareho. Napasigaw ka nang mahina sa pangalan niya, katawan mo ay nanginginig sa pleasure, habang siya ay humigpit ang yakap sa'yo, releasing inside you nang may mahinang ungol ng "Darling... my love."

Nag-collapse kayo pareho sa kama, pawisan, hingal, pero puno ng saya. Hinila ka niya sa dibdib niya, hinaplos ang buhok mo habang hinahalikan ang noo mo nang paulit-ulit.

"Grabe... that was..." simula mo, pero hindi mo matapos.

"Perfect," sagot niya para sa'yo. "Just like us."

Nagpahinga kayo nang ganun—magkayakap, walang damit, balat sa balat—habang pinapanood ang dagat sa labas na sumasalamin sa buwan. Maya-maya, tumayo siya para magdala ng champagne at strawberries mula sa mini-fridge. Nag-inuman kayo sa kama, tumatawa tungkol sa maliit na bagay, nagkukuwentuhan tungkol sa future.

Pero hindi pa tapos. Maya-maya, hinila ka ulit niya sa bathroom—yung malaking bathtub na may jets at view ng ocean. Pinuno niya ng mainit na tubig, naglagay ng bath salts na may amoy ng lavender, at hinila ka sa loob kasama niya. Doon, sa gitna ng bubbles at mainit na tubig, nag-start ulit ang lambing—mas playful this time, mas teasing.

Hinawakan mo siya sa ilalim ng tubig, hinaplos nang dahan-dahan hanggang tumigas ulit siya. Tawa niyo ay naghalo sa tunog ng alon. Hinila ka niya sa lap niya, facing him, at muli kayong nag-connect—mas mabagal ngayon, mas sensual, parang savoring every moment.

Sa wakas, pagod na pero satisfied, lumabas kayo, nag-towel off, at bumalik sa kama. Hinila ka niya sa yakap mula sa likuran, kamay niya sa tiyan mo, labi niya sa balikat mo.

"Forever tayong ganito, ha?" bulong niya sa tenga mo. "Araw-araw, gabi-gabi, ganito kita mamahalin."

Tumango ka, may ngiti sa labi mo. "Forever, asawa ko. Walang iwanan."

At sa ilalim ng starry Jeju sky, sa gitna ng dagat at katahimikan, natulog kayo nang magkayakap.

Ilang buwan pagkatapos ng honeymoon niyo sa Jeju, bumalik kayo sa Seoul na puno ng bagong energy at pangarap. Si Shiloah ay mas attentive pa kaysa dati—laging nag-aalok na magdala ng groceries, nagre-remind sa'yo na uminom ng vitamins, at tuwing gabi, hinahaplos niya ang tiyan mo kahit wala pa ring baby bump. Pero ikaw, alam mo na. Ang unang signs: pagka-late ng period, pagkahilo sa umaga, at yung biglaang cravings sa kimchi jjigae at ice cream sa madaling-araw.

Isang umaga, habang nasa bathroom kayo pareho, kinuha mo ang pregnancy test na nabili mo sa isang lihim na biyahe sa pharmacy. Dalawang pink lines—clear as day. Napatingin ka sa salamin, luha agad sa mata mo. Lumabas ka, hawak ang test, at nakita mo si Shiloah sa kusina, naghahanda ng breakfast.

"Darling," tawag mo, boses mo medyo nanginig.

Tumingin siya, nakita ang test sa kamay mo. Nanlaki ang mata niya, tumakbo papalapit, hinawakan ang mukha mo. "Is this...?"

Tumango ka, tumulo ang luha. "Buntis ako, asawa ko."

Bigla niyang hinila ka sa mahigpit na yakap, umikot-ikot kayo sa sala nang parang bata. Tumawa siya nang malakas, pero kita mo ang luha sa mata niya rin. "We're having a baby. Our baby. Oh my god, darling... thank you. Sobrang salamat."

Mula noon, nagbago ang routine niyo. Mas maaga siyang umuwi mula sa work para samahan ka sa prenatal check-ups. Sa unang ultrasound, nang marinig niyo ang heartbeat—maliit, mabilis, parang drum beat ng pag-asa—magkayakap kayo sa exam room, hindi na makapagsalita sa sobrang saya. "Strong heartbeat," sabi ng doctor. "Healthy baby."

Habang lumalaki ang tiyan mo, mas lumalalim ang pagmamahal niyo. Tuwing gabi, hinahaplos niya ang baby bump mo, kinakausap ito nang mahina. "Hi, little one. This is Daddy. Can't wait to meet you. Be good to Mommy, ha? She's carrying you with so much love."

Ikaw naman, madalas mong sinasabi sa kanya habang magkayakap kayo sa kama, "Alam mo ba, darling? Parang mas lumalakas ang pag-ibig ko sa'yo araw-araw dahil dito. Dahil sa atin tatlo na."

Nung ika-20 week ultrasound, nalaman niyo ang gender: Babae. Isang maliit na prinsesa na darating sa buhay niyo. Nag-celebrate kayo nang simple—dinner sa favorite restaurant niyo malapit sa Han River, kung saan nagsimula ang lahat. Habang pinapanood ang rainbow fountain ulit, hinawakan niya ang kamay mo, hinaplos ang tiyan mo.

"May pangalan na ba tayo para sa kanya?" tanong mo.

Ngumiti siya nang mahina, parang may iniisip na matagal. "I've been thinking... Saoirse."

Tumingin ka sa kanya, curious. "Saoirse? Ano'ng ibig sabihin nun?"

"Freedom," sagot niya. "Sa Irish, Saoirse means 'freedom.' Parang... yung freedom na naramdaman ko noong nakilala kita. Yung freedom na maging totoo, maging masaya, maging buo. At ngayon, with our daughter, parang mas lalaya pa tayo—sa pag-ibig, sa family natin. Gusto ko siyang pangalanan ng ganun, para maalala niya lagi na siya'y ipinanganak sa isang mundo na puno ng pag-ibig at kalayaan."

Napangiti ka, luha ulit sa mata mo. "Saoirse... maganda. Pero paano i-pronounce? Parang mahirap para sa iba."

Tawa niya. "Seer-sha. O Sur-sha, depende sa accent. Pero importante yung meaning. Freedom. Our little Saoirse—free to dream, free to love, free to be herself. Parang tayo, darling. Tayo na nagsimula sa isang gabi sa Han River, at ngayon, may bagong liwanag na darating."

Tumango ka, hinawakan ang tiyan mo. "Saoirse... hi, baby Saoirse. Mommy and Daddy love you already. Sobrang love."

Lumipas ang mga buwan nang may lambing at saya. Si Shiloah ay naging super hands-on—nag-aaral ng baby care books, nagse-set up ng nursery na may soft pastel colors, fairy lights (parang sa proposal night niyo), at isang maliit na mobile na may stars at moon na umiikot habang may soft lullaby.

Nung time na dumating si Saoirse—sa isang maulan na gabi sa Seoul, sa maternity ward ng isang hospital na may view ng city lights—ang unang sigaw niya ay parang music sa inyong tenga. Maliit, pero malakas. Hinawakan mo siya sa unang pagkakataon, balat niya ay mainit at malambot, mata niya ay naka-squint pa pero parang alam na niya ang boses niyo.

"Hi, Saoirse," bulong mo, habang si Shiloah ay nakatayo sa tabi mo, luha sa mata, hinahaplos ang ulo ng baby niyo.

"She's perfect," sabi niya, boses na puno ng emosyon. "Our Saoirse. Our freedom."

Inilagay nila siya sa dibdib mo, skin-to-skin, at doon, sa gitna ng tahimik na kwarto habang naririnig ang mahinang ulan sa labas, niyakap kayo ni Shiloah—ikaw, siya, at si baby Saoirse. Parang closing ng isang beautiful chapter, pero simula rin ng mas maganda.

"Forever?" bulong mo sa kanya.

"Forever," sagot niya, hinahalikan ang noo mo, tapos ang noo ni Saoirse. "Ikaw, ako, at si Saoirse. Walang hanggan."

At sa ilalim ng Seoul lights na sumasalamin sa bintana, sa gitna ng bagong pamilya niyo, alam mong totoo 'yon. Kayo na—mag-asawa, magulang, at isang maliit na batang pangalan ay Saoirse, simbolo ng kalayaan, pag-ibig, at lahat ng magagandang bagay na darating.

[stryhwa]

This clip alone just shows how insane hongjoong is..

[joonie-joon]

Oh bitch I’m delusional as fuuuuuckkkk over this

[bunbunchie]

🔞+ where i think nyctroz boyz will wreck you.

pairing: nyctroz boyz x reader

nyctroz boyz alt universe. purely fictional, characters do not represent the real artist.

18+ minors please do not interact.

— start.

jonathan - office

office is dead quiet after hours, only the low hum of the ac and the faint glow from your desk lamp cutting through the dark. everyone else left ages ago. you’re still there finishing that report you swore would take “just ten more minutes,” except it’s been forty and your eyes are burning.

jonathan appears in the doorway like he materialized, tie loosened, top two buttons undone, sleeves rolled to his elbows, that lazy half-smirk already in place. he doesn’t knock. just leans against the frame, arms crossed, watching you like you’re the only interesting thing left in the building.

“still here?” his voice is low, rough from a long day of meetings. he pushes off the doorframe and walks over slow, deliberate, like he’s giving you time to stop him. you don’t.

he stops behind your chair, hands landing on the backrest, caging you without touching. you feel the heat rolling off him, smell the faint cedar of his cologne mixed with the day’s faint sweat. it’s stupid how fast your pulse kicks up.

“you’re tense,” he murmurs, fingers brushing the nape of your neck, light at first, then firmer, kneading the knot there until you let out a small involuntary sound. “been watching you all day. squirming in that skirt. crossing your legs every time i walked past your desk.”

you swallow. “you’re imagining things.”

he chuckles, dark and quiet. one hand slides down your arm, slow, until his fingers lace with yours on the keyboard. he guides your hand off the keys, shuts the laptop with a soft click. the screen goes dark. now it’s just the two of you and the city lights bleeding through the blinds.

“stand up.”

not a question.

you do. chair rolls back. he turns you around by the hips, backs you up until your ass hits the edge of the desk. papers scatter. neither of you cares. his mouth crashes into yours, hard, hungry, no preamble. tongue pushing in like he’s claiming territory, teeth catching your bottom lip just enough to sting.

he breaks the kiss only to drag his mouth down your throat, sucking a mark you’ll have to cover tomorrow. hands shove your blouse up, buttons straining, then popping one open so he can yank the cup of your bra down. cool air hits your nipple right before his mouth does, hot, wet, sucking hard while his fingers pinch the other one, rolling it until your back arches off the desk.

“fuck, jonathan—”

he groans against your skin, the sound vibrating straight to your clit. drops to his knees between your thighs, shoves your skirt up around your waist in one rough motion. panties pulled to the side, no time for taking them off. he spreads you with his thumbs, stares for a second like he’s memorizing it, then dives in.

flat tongue licking a broad stripe from your entrance to your clit, then sealing his lips around it and sucking, mean, insistent, no mercy. two fingers slide in easy, curling up immediately, pumping fast while his tongue flicks side to side. he’s loud, sloppy, wet sounds echoing in the empty office, like he wants the whole floor to know what he’s doing to you.

your hands fist in his hair, hips grinding against his face. he lets you ride it for a minute, then pins your thighs wide with his forearms, holding you open so you can’t escape the onslaught. “stay still,” he growls against you. “let me wreck this pussy the way i’ve been thinking about since nine this morning.”

you’re shaking already, thighs trembling, clit throbbing under his tongue. he adds a third finger, stretches you wider, fucks them in deep while he sucks harder, relentless. your orgasm hits like a freight train, sharp, blinding, hips bucking against his grip as you come with a choked cry of his name.

he doesn’t stop. keeps licking through it, slower now, lapping up everything until you’re whimpering from overstimulation. only then does he stand, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes dark and blown.

pants undone in seconds. cock out, thick, heavy, tip already slick. he grips your hips, spins you around, bends you over the desk. your forearms brace on scattered files, ass up, skirt still bunched at your waist.

he lines up, drags the head through your folds once, twice, coating himself, then slams in, deep, one brutal thrust that knocks the air out of you. you both groan at the same time.

“fuck, so tight,” he hisses, pulling almost all the way out before driving back in, setting a punishing rhythm. desk creaking under you, papers sliding to the floor. his hand fists your hair, tugs your head back so he can see your face, mouth open, eyes glassy, drooling a little on the wood.

“look at you,” he pants, hips snapping hard. “taking it like you were made for this desk. gonna come again? gonna soak my cock while everyone else is gone?”

you can’t even answer, just broken moans, walls fluttering around him. he reaches around, fingers finding your clit, rubbing fast messy circles.

“come on, give it to me, fuck—”

you shatter again, harder this time, clenching so tight he curses, pace stuttering. he buries himself deep, hips jerking as he comes inside you, hot and thick, groaning your name against the back of your neck.

he stays there a minute, breathing ragged, cock still twitching. then he pulls out slow, watches his cum drip down your thighs onto the carpet. chuckles low.

“gonna have to get the cleaning crew in here tomorrow.”

you’re still bent over, legs shaking, trying to catch your breath.

he leans down, kisses the back of your shoulder, voice soft now.

“worth every second.”

harrison - changing room

mall’s changing room is narrow, mirrors on three walls, thin curtain half-drawn like it’s daring someone to peek. fluorescent lights buzz overhead, too bright, making everything feel exposed. harrison’s got you backed against the full-length mirror, your back to the cool glass, skirt shoved up around your waist, one leg hooked over his arm so you’re spread wide for him.

he’s still in his black hoodie and jeans from shopping, zipper down just enough, cock out, thick, flushed dark, tip already slick as he drags it slow through your folds, teasing your entrance without pushing in yet. your panties are stuffed in his pocket somewhere, useless now.

“been hard since you tried on that dress,” he mutters, voice low and wrecked, lips brushing your ear. “the way it hugged your ass. the way you bent over to fix the hem. thought i was gonna drag you in here right then.”

you whimper when he notches the head inside, just the tip, lets you feel the stretch, the heat. your hands grip his shoulders, nails digging through fabric. the mirror behind you shows everything. your flushed face, mouth open, tits spilling out of the low neckline, his broad back flexing as he holds you up.

“look,” he growls, free hand grabbing your chin, forcing your head to turn so you see your reflection. “watch yourself take it. watch how fucking desperate you look getting railed in a mall changing room.”

he snaps his hips forward, deep, one brutal thrust that punches the air out of your lungs. your head thumps back against the mirror, a soft thud. he doesn’t give you time to adjust. just starts fucking you hard, fast, mean strokes that make the thin metal partition rattle, curtain swaying with each slam.

“quiet,” he hisses when a moan slips out too loud, clamping a hand over your mouth, palm rough against your lips. “someone walks by, hears you whining for my cock, we’re done. or maybe you want that. want the whole mall knowing i’m splitting this pussy open ten feet from the food court.”

your thighs shake, leg trembling around his waist. he angles up sharper, grinding against that spot that makes your vision blur. the mirror fogs a little where your breath hits it, your reflection getting hazier, but you still see it, his cock disappearing inside you over and over, slick shining on your thighs, his jaw clenched tight.

he drops his hand from your mouth, replaces it with his lips, messy, tongue deep, swallowing your moans. reaches between you, thumb finding your clit, rubbing fast messy circles in time with his thrusts.

“fuck, come for me,” he pants against your mouth. “come all over my cock right here. soak me so i feel you dripping down my balls when we walk out.”

you break hard, walls clenching tight, thighs locking around him, a choked sob muffled into his neck. he fucks you through it, pace turning sloppy, desperate, hips snapping erratic.

“fucking, take it—” buries himself deep, groans low and guttural as he comes, hot, thick pulses filling you, hips jerking like he can’t stop. stays seated for a long minute, breathing ragged against your throat, cock still twitching inside.

pulls out slow, watches his cum leak out, drip down your inner thigh, onto the cheap carpet. he smirks, dark and satisfied, tucks himself back in, zips up like nothing happened.

leans in, kisses you slow this time, lazy, filthy, then whispers against your lips.

“fix your skirt. we’re not done shopping.”

you’re still shaking when he pulls the curtain back just enough to check if the coast is clear. he guides you out first, hand low on your back, thumb brushing the small of it like a promise.

“next store’s got better mirrors.”

yves - desk

classroom door’s locked, blinds half-slanted so thin stripes of afternoon sun cut across the desks. chalkboard still smeared with today’s equations, eraser dust floating lazy in the light. yves has you bent over his front-row desk, the one he always claims because it’s closest to the board, closest to where the teacher can’t see his phone under the table.

your skirt’s flipped up onto your lower back, panties dragged down to mid-thigh, tangled enough that you can’t spread your legs too wide. he likes that, keeps you a little trapped, a little helpless while he stands behind you, belt undone, zipper down, cock already out and heavy in his hand.

he drags the tip along your slit slow, coating himself in how wet you already are, teasing your entrance without pushing in. “all fucking day,” he says, voice low, almost bored except for the rough edge, “you kept crossing your legs every time i looked over. squeezing your thighs like you were trying to come just from me staring.”

you try to push back for more. he grips your hip hard, holds you still. “nah. you wait.”

finally notches the head inside, just enough to stretch you open, then slams forward in one mean thrust. your palms slap flat on the desk, papers scattering, a pencil rolling to the floor with a clatter. he doesn’t pause. just starts fucking you hard, deep, punishing strokes that make the whole desk scrape an inch forward with each snap of his hips.

the wood creaks under you. your tits bounce against the cold surface through your blouse, nipples hard and aching where they drag. he reaches around, yanks the top buttons open so he can palm one breast rough, pinching the nipple until you whine.

“quiet,” he mutters, other hand sliding up to cover your mouth, fingers pressing between your lips so you taste your own lip balm and the faint salt of his skin. “janitor’s still in the building. you want him walking in on you getting railed over my desk? ass up, skirt around your waist, dripping down your thighs?”

you moan into his palm anyway, muffled, desperate. he angles up sharper, grinding against that spot that makes your knees buckle. the desk legs squeak against the linoleum every thrust, rhythmic, obscene.

he pulls his hand from your mouth, replaces it with two fingers, shoves them in so you suck automatically while he reaches down with the other hand, finds your clit, rubs fast messy circles.

“come on, come all over the desk you sit at every morning,” he growls low against your ear. “gonna make you sit here tomorrow with my cum still leaking out of you, feeling it every time you shift in your seat.”

you break hard, walls clamping down, thighs shaking, a choked sob around his fingers. he fucks you through it, pace turning erratic, sloppy, hips slamming so hard the desk bangs the one behind it.

“fuck, yeah—” buries himself deep, groans rough and low as he comes, hot, thick pulses filling you, hips jerking like he’s trying to grind even deeper. stays seated for a long minute, breathing heavy against the back of your neck, cock twitching inside while cum slowly starts to leak out around him.

finally pulls out slow. watches it drip onto the desk edge, a small milky puddle on the wood right where his notebook usually sits. he huffs a dark little laugh, smears it with his thumb like he’s marking territory.

“gonna have to wipe that before first period.”

you’re still bent over, legs jelly, skirt wrinkled, blouse half-open. he tugs your panties back up, lets the wet fabric press his cum against you, then smooths your skirt down like nothing happened.

leans over you, kisses the shell of your ear soft this time.

“tomorrow wear the shorter one. easier access.”

yarden - whirlpool

whirlpool’s running low tonight, just a steady rumble under the surface, bubbles rolling slow and hot against your skin like a thousand teasing fingers. steam curls thick in the dim bathroom light, fogging the glass doors, making everything feel hazy and private even though the house is dead quiet.

yarden’s already in the tub when you slip in, water lapping at his chest, dark hair slicked back, eyes half-lidded watching you strip like he’s been waiting hours instead of minutes. he doesn’t speak, just reaches out, wraps wet fingers around your wrist, tugs you down until you’re straddling his thighs, knees braced on the seat, water swirling around your waist.

his hands slide up your sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of your tits, then higher, cupping, squeezing, rolling your nipples between rough fingers until they pebble hard under the heat. you arch into it, hips rocking forward instinctively, and that’s when you feel him, thick, hard, pressed right up against your folds under the water, tip nudging your clit with every small shift.

“been hard thinking about this all day,” he murmurs, voice low and gravel-rough, lips grazing your jaw. “you in this tub. legs spread. letting the jets fuck you while i watch.”

one hand dips under the surface, fingers parting you slow, spreading your lips so the strongest jet hits direct, hot, forceful pulses right on your clit, making your breath hitch sharp. he holds you open like that, thumb brushing lazy circles around your entrance while the water does the rest, relentless rhythm that has your thighs trembling already.

“feel it?” he whispers against your throat, sucking a slow bruise there. “those jets teasing your clit. getting you dripping before i even slide in.”

you whimper, hips twitching forward, chasing more. he chuckles dark, adds two fingers, pushes them deep, curls them up against that spot while the jets keep battering your clit from the front. the combination’s brutal, pressure inside and out, heat everywhere, and you’re shaking in seconds, nails digging into his shoulders.

“come like this first,” he orders, voice dropping lower. “soak my hand. let the water carry it away.”

you break fast, walls clenching hard around his fingers, hips bucking erratic, a choked moan echoing off the tiles. he works you through it, slower now, drawing out every aftershock until you’re boneless, panting against his neck.

only then does he lift you just enough, grips your hips, lines himself up under the churning water. the head pushes in slow, thick stretch that makes you gasp, then he snaps up hard, burying himself to the hilt in one deep thrust. water sloshes over the edge, waves rippling out around you both.

he starts moving, long, rolling thrusts that grind you down onto him every time, the jets still hitting your clit from the side with every bounce. his hands clamp on your ass, spreading you wider so the water rushes between you, adding to the slick slide.

“fuck, tight,” he groans, head tipping back against the tub rim, eyes dark watching where you’re joined. “gonna wreck you right here. make you come again while the jets fuck your clit and i fill this pussy up.”

pace builds, harder, faster, water splashing loud, bubbles popping against your skin. he hooks one arm under your knees, lifts your legs higher so you’re folded open, slamming deeper, hitting that spot relentless while his free hand finds your clit again, rubbing fast, messy circles in time with his thrusts.

you’re climbing too quick, too much sensation, too much heat, walls fluttering hard around him. he feels it, growls low against your mouth.

“come on my cock, squeeze me. let me feel it.”

you shatter, harder than before, vision whiting out, thighs locking around him as you pulse and soak him under the water. he curses, hips stuttering, buries himself deep, comes with a rough, broken groan, hot thick pulses filling you, hips jerking erratic like he can’t stop.

he keeps you seated on him after, cock still twitching inside, cum slowly leaking out into the swirling jets. the water keeps moving, softer pulses against your oversensitive clit, making you twitch and whimper every few seconds.

he huffs a lazy laugh, kisses the corner of your mouth, voice wrecked and soft.

“gonna have to run this thing again tomorrow. full of us.”

you’re still trembling, clinging to him, legs useless in the heat.

he strokes slow circles on your back under the water, lips brushing your temple.

“worth never getting out.”

matthew - kitchen

kitchen’s still warm from dinner, dishes half done in the sink, your hips pressed back against the counter edge while matthew cages you there with his whole body.

he doesn’t say much at first just heavy breathing against your neck, one hand already shoved up under your shirt, calloused fingertips dragging over your ribs like he’s counting them before he steals your air again. his other palm is flat on the counter beside your hip, knuckles white, like he’s physically holding himself back from ripping everything off you right then.

“been thinking about this all fucking day,” he mutters, voice wrecked already, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “you bent over this counter. ass up. crying my name.”

he doesn’t wait for an answer. just yanks your shorts and panties down in one rough tug, not even to your ankles, just enough so they tangle at your knees and keep you slightly trapped. you feel the cold edge of the counter bite into your palms when you brace.

matthew drops to his knees behind you so fast it makes you gasp. no teasing, no slow kisses down your spine. he spreads you open with both thumbs and groans like he’s starving, loud, shameless, before his mouth is on you. flat tongue dragging from clit all the way back, filthy and wet, sucking hard enough that your thighs shake immediately.

“fuck, matt—” your voice cracks.

he pulls back just enough to spit on you, watching it drip, then dives back in harder. nose buried, lips sealed around your clit, two fingers curling inside without warning, thick and insistent, pumping fast while his tongue flicks side to side. he’s messy, chin slick, obscene sucking noises filling the kitchen, not caring that the window’s cracked and the neighbors might hear.

when your legs start buckling he stands up quick, spins you around, lifts you onto the counter like you weigh nothing. your ass hits the edge, thighs spread wide around his hips. he’s already working his belt open with one hand, other hand gripping your jaw, forcing you to look at him while he pulls his cock out, thick, flushed dark, leaking at the tip.

“gonna wreck this pretty pussy right here,” he says, voice low and ruined. lines himself up, notches just the head inside, lets you feel how wide he’s gonna stretch you. “gonna fuck you so hard you forget how to stand tomorrow.”

then he snaps his hips forward hard, one brutal thrust that punches the air out of your lungs. your head falls back, mouth open on a silent scream. he doesn’t give you time to adjust. just grips your hips with bruising fingers and starts pounding, deep and mean, counter rattling under you, dishes clinking in the sink.

every thrust shoves you further back until your shoulder blades hit the cabinets. he yanks your shirt up, bra shoved over your tits so they bounce with each slam. leans down to bite one nipple, sharp enough to sting, then soothes it with his tongue while he keeps fucking you stupid.

“look at you,” he growls against your skin. “taking it so fucking good. gonna come all over my cock right here where we eat breakfast, yeah?”

you’re already close, too close, clit throbbing from his earlier mouth, walls fluttering around him. he feels it. angles up sharper, grinding against that spot that makes your vision white out.

“c’mon, give it to me, fuck, let me feel you soak me—”

you break with a choked sob of his name, clenching so hard he curses, pace turning sloppy and desperate. he fucks you through it, chasing his own, until he’s burying himself to the hilt and spilling inside you with a long, guttural groan, hips jerking like he can’t stop.

he stays there after, panting against your throat, cock still twitching, cum slowly leaking out around him onto the counter. neither of you moves for a long minute.

then he huffs a small laugh against your skin.

“gonna have to clean this counter again before we eat tomorrow.”

you’re still shaking when you manage to whisper, “your fault.”

he kisses you slow this time, lazy, filthy, tasting like you.

“worth it.”

rj - terrace

terrace air’s thick tonight, heavy with city heat and the faint smoke from someone’s barbecue three floors down. string lights loop lazy overhead, warm yellow spilling across the concrete, catching on the railing where your hands grip tight. rj’s got you pressed there, chest to your back, one arm banded around your waist, the other hand already under your thin sundress, fingers hooked in your panties, tugging them aside slow like he’s savoring the reveal.

“been staring at this view all week,” he mutters low against the shell of your ear, breath hot, lips brushing skin. “you out here watering plants. ass in those shorts. bending over like you knew i was watching from the window.”

his fingers drag through your folds, slow, deliberate, spreading the slick already there before two push inside deep, curling up sharp. you gasp, knees buckling a little; he tightens his hold, keeps you upright, pinned between his body and the railing. the city sprawls out below, cars crawling, lights blinking indifferent, while he pumps slow, thumb circling your clit in lazy, maddening strokes.

“quiet,” he whispers when a moan slips out. “wind carries sound. someone looks up from the street, sees you getting finger-fucked against the railing… maybe they watch. maybe they film it.” his voice drops darker. “maybe you’d like that.”

you clench around his fingers at the thought. he chuckles low, adds a third, stretches you wider, fucks them faster now, wet sounds obscene under the hum of distant traffic. your head tips back against his shoulder, mouth open, breathing ragged.

he pulls his hand free sudden, brings slick fingers to your lips. “taste how wet you are for this.”

you suck them clean, tongue swirling, eyes locked on his in the reflection of the glass door behind you. he groans quiet, yanks his shorts down just enough, cock springing free, thick and flushed, tip glistening. grips your hip, bends you forward a little more, ass out, back arched, dress rucked up around your waist.

lines up under the dress, drags the head through your folds once, twice, coating himself, then snaps forward hard. one deep thrust buries him to the hilt, your nails scrape the concrete railing, a sharp inhale swallowed by the night.

he starts fucking you mean, long, brutal strokes that make your whole body jolt forward with each snap of his hips. railing cool against your palms, wind tugging at your hair, his free hand sliding up to palm your tit through the thin fabric, pinching the nipple hard enough to sting.

“fuck, look at the city,” he growls, tugging your head back by the hair so you see the lights blur below. “thousands of people down there. none of them know i’m splitting this pussy open right now. filling you up while they drive home.”

every thrust grinds your clit against the edge of his pelvis, pressure building fast, too fast. he feels you fluttering, reaches around, rubs fast sloppy circles on your clit while he pounds deeper.

“come, fuck, come on my cock out here,” he pants against your neck, teeth grazing skin. “let me feel you soak me. drip down your thighs for the wind to dry.”

you break hard, walls clamping tight, thighs shaking, a choked cry lost in the breeze. he fucks you through it, pace turning erratic, desperate, then buries deep with a low, rough groan, coming hot and thick inside you, hips jerking like he’s trying to grind every drop deeper.

stays seated a long minute, cock twitching, breathing heavy against your back, while cum slowly leaks out, warm trails down your inner thighs, catching the string-light glow. he finally pulls out slow, watches it drip onto the terrace floor in small dark spots.

huffs a wrecked laugh, tucks himself away, smooths your dress down like he didn’t just ruin you against the railing.

“gonna have to hose this spot tomorrow before the landlord checks.”

you’re still trembling, legs weak, leaning into him. he turns you slow, kisses you deep, lazy, filthy, tasting like night air and sweat.

“next time bring the blanket out here. wanna lay you down. watch the stars while i eat you out till you cry.”

zavier - living room

living room’s dark except for the blue flicker from the tv stuck on the menu screen, volume muted, some half-watched show nobody cares about anymore. couch cushions are already dented from earlier, blanket half off the back like it got kicked aside in a hurry.

zavier’s got you sprawled across the sectional, head near the armrest, legs hooked wide over his shoulders, skirt shoved up to your stomach, panties long gone, somewhere under the coffee table probably. he’s kneeling between your thighs on the rug, hoodie still on, sleeves pushed to his elbows, jeans unzipped just enough for his cock to be out, thick, flushed, tip slick as he strokes himself slow while he looks down at you.

“been thinking about this spot all fucking week,” he says, voice low, rough from the late hour. “you on this couch. legs spread. dripping for me while the rest of the house sleeps.”

he leans down, mouth on you without warning, tongue flat, dragging a slow heavy stripe from your entrance up to your clit, then sealing his lips around it and sucking hard. no teasing buildup, just hungry, wet pulls that make your hips jerk off the cushions. his hands clamp on your thighs, pinning them open wider so you can’t close them, can’t escape the way his tongue flicks side to side, fast and mean.

you whimper, hand flying to his hair, tugging. he groans into you, vibration straight through your clit, then pushes two fingers inside, thick and curling right away, pumping deep while his mouth stays latched on. the wet sounds are loud in the quiet room, obscene against the low hum of the fridge in the kitchen.

“fuck, taste so good,” he mutters, pulling back just enough to spit on your clit, watching it drip before diving back in harder. fingers crook sharper, hitting that spot over and over while his tongue lashes relentless. your thighs start shaking around his head, back arching, a choked moan slipping out too loud.

he lifts his head, eyes dark and blown. “shh. don’t wake the house. or do. let them hear how wet you get when i eat you out on the couch we all sit on.”

stands quick, shoves his jeans lower, cock heavy and leaking. grabs your hips, drags you down the couch until your ass is right at the edge. hooks your legs over his arms, folds you open, lines up, pushes in slow at first, letting you feel every inch stretch you wide, then snaps forward hard, bottoming out with a groan that rumbles through his chest.

starts fucking you deep, long, rolling thrusts that make the couch creak under you, your tits bouncing under your shirt with each slam. he yanks the neckline down, bra shoved aside, mouth on one nipple, sucking, biting just enough to sting, while he keeps pounding, steady and mean.

“look at you,” he pants, switching to the other breast, tongue swirling. “taking it so good right here. gonna come all over this couch? gonna soak the cushions like you own the place?”

he angles up sharper, grinding against that spot that makes your vision spark. one hand slides between you, thumb rubbing fast, sloppy circles on your clit in time with his thrusts.

“fuck, come on my cock,” he growls against your skin. “let me feel you clench. milk me dry right here.”

you shatter, hard, walls pulsing tight around him, thighs locking, a broken sob muffled into your own arm. he fucks you through it, pace turning erratic, desperate, then buries deep with a low, wrecked groan, coming hot and thick inside you, hips jerking like he’s trying to grind every drop deeper.

stays seated a minute, breathing ragged against your neck, cock still twitching. pulls out slow, cum leaking out, warm and sticky down your thighs, dripping onto the couch fabric in dark spots.

he huffs a small laugh, wrecked and satisfied, swipes a thumb through the mess on your inner thigh, brings it to your lips.

“taste us.”

you suck it clean, eyes locked on his. he smirks, tucks himself away, smooths your skirt down like he didn’t just ruin you on the living room couch.

leans down, kisses you slow, lazy, filthy, tasting like you and him and late-night want.

“gonna have to flip these cushions tomorrow before anyone notices the wet spot.”

you’re still trembling, legs weak when he pulls you up against his chest, blanket dragged over you both.

“worth every fucking stain.”

charles - pool

pool’s lit soft blue at the bottom, underwater lights rippling across the surface like liquid stars, night air warm and thick with chlorine and the faint coconut of sunscreen still clinging to skin. everyone else crashed inside hours ago, house dark, music long dead, but charles is still out here, towel slung low around his hips, water beading on his chest, hair slicked back dark and dripping.

you’re floating on your back when he slips in quiet, no splash, just a slow glide under the water until he surfaces right between your legs. hands find your thighs first, strong grip, thumbs pressing into the soft inner skin, spreading you slow under the surface while the water laps gentle against your bikini bottoms.

“been watching you swim laps,” he murmurs, voice low, rough from the late hour and the want. lips brush the shell of your ear as he pulls you closer, your back arching against the pool wall tiles, cool against heated skin. “ass up every time you pushed off. tits bouncing under that top. thought i was gonna lose it right there in the shallow end.”

his fingers hook the ties at your hips, tug once, slow, bikini bottoms floating away like forgotten trash. he doesn’t rush. just spreads you wider with his palms, thumbs parting your folds under the water so the gentle current teases your clit direct. you gasp, hips twitching forward; he chuckles dark, presses his chest to yours, pinning you to the wall.

“feel that?” he whispers, rocking slow so his cock, hard, thick, freed from the towel, slides between your thighs, nudging your entrance without pushing in. “water’s fucking you already. warm little pulses right on your clit while i watch you fall apart.”

one hand slides up, yanks the triangle of your top aside, tits spilling free into the night air, nipples hard from the contrast. mouth closes over one, hot, wet suction, tongue swirling slow circles while his fingers dip lower, two pushing inside you easy under the water. curls them up sharp, pumps deep, thumb finding your clit and rubbing firm, steady pressure in time with the current.

your head tips back against the tile, mouth open on silent moans, water lapping at your throat, muffling everything. he adds a third finger, stretches you wider, fucks them faster now, wet, muffled sounds under the surface mixing with your ragged breathing.

“come like this,” he growls against your nipple, teeth grazing. “soak my hand right here in the deep end. let the pool take it.”

you shatter fast, walls clamping hard around his fingers, thighs shaking, a choked whimper slipping out before you bite your lip. he works you through it, slower, drawing out every pulse until you’re trembling, clinging to his shoulders.

only then does he lift you, hands under your ass, legs wrapping instinctive around his waist. lines himself up under the water, notches the head inside, lets you feel the thick stretch, the heat, then snaps his hips forward hard. buries himself deep in one brutal thrust, water surging around you both in small waves that slap the sides.

starts fucking you mean, deep, rolling strokes that make your back scrape the tiles, tits bouncing above the surface with each snap. one hand grips the pool edge for leverage, other clamps on your hip, pulling you down harder onto him every time.

“fuck, tight,” he pants, mouth crashing into yours, messy, tongue deep, swallowing your moans. “gonna wreck this pussy right here. make you come again while the water fucks us both.”

pace builds, harder, faster, splashes louder, ripples spreading out across the pool. he angles up sharper, grinding against that spot inside while the current keeps teasing your clit from the front. reaches between you, thumb pressing hard circles on it, rubbing fast in time with his thrusts.

“come, fuck, come on my cock,” he growls low against your lips. “squeeze me. let me feel you milk every drop while i fill you up.”

you break harder, vision blurring, thighs locking around him, walls pulsing tight as you soak him under the water. he curses rough, hips stuttering, buries deep with a low, guttural groan, coming hot and thick inside you, hips jerking erratic like he’s trying to grind deeper.

stays seated a long minute, cock twitching, breathing heavy against your neck, while cum slowly leaks out into the pool, milky trails swirling faint in the blue light. he finally pulls out slow, watches it drift away in lazy clouds before the filters claim it.

huffs a wrecked laugh, kisses you lazy, filthy, slow, tongue tasting like chlorine and salt.

“gonna have to shock this pool tomorrow. full of us.”

you’re still wrapped around him, legs weak, floating boneless. he strokes slow down your back under the water, lips brushing your temple.

“worth every fucking chemical.”

sebastian - bathroom

steam’s still thick in the bathroom from your shower, mirror completely fogged, droplets running slow down the glass. sebastian’s leaning against the sink counter, towel slung low around his hips, water beading on his chest and abs, eyes dark and fixed on you as you wrap yourself in another towel.

he doesn’t wait. steps forward, yanks your towel off in one rough pull, lets it drop to the tile. backs you against the sink edge, lifts you up so your ass hits cold marble, thighs spreading wide around his hips. his towel falls away, cock already hard, thick, flushed dark from watching you dry off.

mouth crashes into yours, hard, hungry, tongue pushing deep while his hands grip your tits, thumbs rolling nipples until they’re tight peaks. he breaks the kiss only to drag his mouth down your throat, sucking a bruise right over your pulse, then lower, teeth grazing one nipple, sucking hard while his fingers slide between your legs.

two push in without warning, deep, curling up sharp against that spot that makes your hips jerk. he pumps fast, wet sounds echoing off the tiles, thumb grinding your clit in tight circles.

“been hard since you stepped under the water,” he mutters against your skin, voice rough. “thinking about bending you over this sink. fucking you while the mirror shows every second.”

you’re already shaking. he pulls his fingers out, spins you around quick, chest pressed to the fogged mirror, ass out. your hands brace on the counter, reflection hazy but clear enough to see his face behind you, jaw clenched, eyes black.

he lines up, drags the head through your folds once, coating himself, then slams in deep. one brutal thrust that makes you gasp, mirror vibrating faintly. starts fucking you hard, long, punishing strokes that hit deep every time, your tits bouncing with each snap of his hips, nipples dragging cold against the glass.

“look at yourself,” he growls, one hand fisting your hair to tug your head back so you see your own flushed face, mouth open, eyes glassy. “taking my cock like you were made for this bathroom. gonna come all over the sink we brush our teeth at every morning.”

he reaches around, fingers finding your clit again, rubbing fast, messy, while he pounds deeper, pace turning sloppy. you break hard, walls clamping tight, thighs trembling, a choked cry fogging the mirror more. he fucks you through it, curses low, buries himself deep, comes with a rough groan, hot pulses filling you, hips jerking erratic.

stays inside a minute, breathing ragged against your neck. pulls out slow, watches cum drip down your thighs, pool on the tile. smirks, wipes a streak across your ass cheek like he’s claiming it.

“better clean that before the maid sees.”

you’re still shaking, leaning on the counter. he turns you, kisses you slow, lazy, filthy, tongue tasting like mint and want.

“shower again. this time i’m eating you out under the spray.”

rico - elevator

elevator’s smooth, mirrored walls on every side, soft ding as it climbs past floors nobody’s getting on. rico hits the emergency stop button halfway up, lights flicker once, then steady, a quiet buzz filling the small space.

he turns to you fast, eyes dark. “been wanting to do this since we got in.”

backs you against the wall, hands shoving your dress up around your hips, panties yanked to the side, no time to take them off. fingers find you soaked already, two pushing in deep, curling fast while his thumb grinds your clit hard.

“quiet,” he hisses when you moan, mouth covering yours to swallow the sound, tongue deep. fingers pump faster, wet, loud in the confined space, until your thighs shake.

drops to his knees right there on the elevator floor, hikes one of your legs over his shoulder, mouth on you, tongue flat, licking broad stripes from entrance to clit, then sucking hard. you fist his hair, head thumping back against the mirror, reflection showing your legs spread, his head buried between them.

stands quick, belt undone, zipper down, cock out, thick and leaking. lifts you easy, legs wrapping around his waist, back pressed to the wall. lines up, slams in one deep thrust, stretching you wide, knocking the breath out of you. starts fucking hard, fast, desperate, elevator rocking faintly with each brutal snap of his hips.

mirrors catch every angle. your dress bunched, tits bouncing, his ass flexing under his pants as he pounds into you. “fuck, take it,” he growls against your neck. “gonna fill you right here. make you walk into the apartment leaking my cum down your legs.”

one hand grips your ass to hold you up, other slips between you, rubs fast circles on your clit. you come hard, clenching tight, soaking him, muffled cry into his shoulder. he follows seconds later, deep groan, hips jerking, spilling hot inside you.

holds you there a minute, cock twitching. sets you down slow, cum dripping visible on your inner thigh in the mirror light. he fixes your dress, smooths your hair like nothing happened, hits the button again.

doors slide open at your floor. he smirks, hand low on your back guiding you out.

“walk slow. let me watch it drip.”

yuan - bedroom

bedroom’s dark, only moonlight slicing through the half-open curtains, sheets already twisted from earlier teasing. yuan’s got you flat on your back in the middle of the bed, wrists pinned above your head with one big hand, thighs spread wide by his knees.

he’s naked, cock hard against your stomach, leaking, heavy. kisses down your body slow, bites on your tits, tongue swirling nipples until they ache, then lower. mouth seals over your clit, sucking soft at first, then harder, three fingers sliding in deep, stretching you open, pumping slow and deliberate while his tongue flicks fast.

“gonna make you come until you can’t anymore,” he murmurs against your folds, voice low and dark. “gonna wreck this pussy in our bed tonight.”

fingers curl sharp, hitting that spot relentless. you arch, cry his name, come hard, soaking his hand, thighs shaking. he doesn’t stop, keeps licking slower, drawing out every aftershock until you’re whimpering, pushing weakly at his head.

climbs up, lines himself up, pushes in slow, letting you feel every thick inch stretch you. bottoms out with a low groan. starts thrusting, deep, rolling hips that grind against your clit every time, bed creaking under the force.

pace builds, harder, faster, headboard thumping the wall rhythmic. he hooks your legs over his shoulders, folds you in half, slamming deeper, hitting that spot over and over.

“fuck, look at you,” he pants, eyes locked on where he’s disappearing inside you. “taking it so deep in our bed. gonna come again? gonna milk every drop out of me?”

reaches down, rubs your clit fast, messy, perfect pressure. you shatter, walls pulsing hard, vision blurring, a broken moan filling the room. he curses, buries deep, comes with a rough groan, hot thick pulses filling you, hips grinding slow like he’s trying to push it all the way in.

collapses over you, still inside, breathing heavy against your neck. kisses your temple soft, voice wrecked.

“gonna stay like this. feel me leaking out of you all night.”

you’re boneless, trembling under him. he pulls the sheet over you both, cock softening but not pulling out.

“never leaving this bed with you.”

[bunbunchie]

parisian promises

─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

pairing: harrison x reader

genre: fluff, smut, romance au

word count: 10k

summary: in the city of love, harrison and y/n's relationship blossoms from a surprise proposal under the eiffel tower to a dreamy wedding in a quaint parisian chapel, culminating in a steamy honeymoon filled with passion and intimacy. amidst the romance, their bond deepens through playful moments, intense desires, and tender aftercare, proving that paris isn't just a place, it's their forever.

warning: dom harrison, sub reader, unprotected sex, kissing, breeding kink, size kink, pulling hair, choking, slaping boobs, pussy, and ass, face fucking, tongue fucking, lots of sex positions, fingering, video recording sex, pet names, hickeys, dirty talk, oral, praise kink, squirt, pussy and dick eating, manhandling, manipulating, messy and rough sex, creampie, eating cum, tummy bulge, wet and dirty, explicit sexual content, explicit language, and after care.

—nyctroz boyz alt universe. fictional. characters do not represent the real artists.

—18+ minors please do not interact.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

you've been dating harrison for years na. it started simple and funniest, kayong dalawa na nag-usap sa messager app nabigay ng bunsong kapatid ni harrison. from there, it was dates, late-night talks, and falling hard. harrison, with his charming and those dark brown/black eyes that always make your heart skip, became your everything. he's a bit of a workaholic, but he always makes time for you.

lately, he's been hinting about a surprise trip. "pack for somewhere romantic," sabi niya with that mischievous grin. you guessed europe, pero hindi mo inexpect na paris. the flight was smooth, holding hands the whole way, him whispering sweet nothings sa ear mo. "i can't wait to show you the city, love."

pagdating niyo sa paris, the air felt different. crisp, romantic, with the scent of fresh croissants everywhere. check-in sa isang boutique hotel near the seine, with a view of the eiffel tower from your balcony. the first few days were pure bliss: walking hand-in-hand along the champs-élysées, eating crepes sa street vendors, visiting the louvre where he teased you about looking more beautiful than the mona lisa. "you're my masterpiece," he'd say, pulling you close for a kiss.

but you noticed something off. harrison seemed nervous, fidgeting with his phone more than usual, checking the time constantly. "okay ka lang ba?" you asked one evening while sipping wine sa isang riverside cafe. he smiled, "perfect, mahal. just excited for tomorrow."

the proposal day came unexpectedly. he woke you up early, "let's go on an adventure," sabi niya. breakfast sa hotel, croissants, jam, at coffee, then a stroll to the eiffel tower. it was a sunny morning, tourists milling about, but harrison led you to a quieter spot sa base ng tower, away from the crowds. may picnic basket siya, complete with cheese, grapes, at champagne.

"what's all this?" you laughed, sitting on the blanket he spread out.

"just wanted a special moment with you," he replied, eyes sparkling.

habang kumakain kayo, he shared stories from his childhood, how he always dreamed of proposing in paris because it's the city of love. you thought it was just talk, pero then he got serious. "y/n, these past years have been the best of my life. you're my best friend, my partner, my everything. you make me laugh, you challenge me, and you love me in ways i never thought possible."

your heart raced. "harrison..."

he pulled out a small velvet box from his pocket. "i want to spend forever with you. will you marry me?"

tears welled up as he opened the box, revealing a stunning red oval diamond with gold and leaves ring na sparkling under the paris sun. "oh my god, yes! yes, harrison!"

he slipped the ring on your finger, perfect fit, and pulled you into a deep kiss. the eiffel tower loomed above, like it was witnessing your moment. people around clapped, but it felt like just the two of you. "i love you so much," he murmured against your lips.

the rest of the day was a blur of joy. calls to family and friends, your mom crying on the phone, "ang ganda ng proposal!" his parents congratulating you both. dinner sa isang fancy restaurant overlooking the seine, where he couldn't stop staring at the ring on your hand. "it looks perfect on you, mahal."

that night, back sa hotel, the celebration turned intimate. harrison carried you over the threshold ng room, laughing. "practice for the wedding," sabi niya. he laid you on the bed, hovering over you with that dominant gaze na always makes you weak.

"my fiancée," he growled, kissing your neck. his hands roamed, pulling off your dress slowly, savoring every inch. "so beautiful."

you moaned as he marked your skin with hickeys, his teeth grazing your collarbone. "harrison, please..."

he smirked, "patience, mahal. i want to worship you tonight."

his fingers teased your panties, slipping inside to find you wet already. "so ready for me, huh?" two fingers pumped in and out, curling to hit that spot na makes you arch. "good girl, taking my fingers so well."

you came undone quickly, squirting on his hand, but he didn't stop. "that's it, mahal. give me more." his tongue followed, lapping at your pussy, tongue fucking you deep until you were trembling.

then he flipped you over, manhandling you onto all fours. "ass up, mahal." his hand slapped your ass lightly, making you gasp. size kink kicked in as he pressed his hard cock against you, he's big, always stretching you perfectly.

"please, harrison, fuck me," you begged.

he chuckled, "such a needy sub." he entered you slowly, inch by inch, groaning at the tightness. "fuck, so tight. my perfect pussy."

he started thrusting, hard and deep, pulling your hair to arch your back. "you like that? like being fucked like this?"

"yes, daddy," you whimpered, the pet name slipping out.

his pace quickened, slapping your ass again, then reaching around to rub your clit. tummy bulge visible as he went deeper, "look at that, baby. my cock bulging in your tummy."

he choked you lightly, hand around your throat, "mine, all mine." dirty talk flowed: "gonna breed you one day, fill you with my cum."

you came again, creampie following as he spilled inside, eating his cum out of you after. messy, wet, dirty. just how you both liked it.

aftercare was tender: him cleaning you up, cuddling, whispering praises. "you're amazing, mahal. can't wait to marry you."

the proposal story spread among friends, but you two decided to keep the wedding in paris too. why not? the city felt magical now.

planning took months, but harrison handled most of it, wanting to surprise you again. "trust me, mahal. it'll be perfect."

you flew back to paris a week before the wedding. fittings for your dress, a simple yet elegant white gown with lace details, hugging your curves. harrison in a tailored suit, looking dashing.

rehearsal dinner sa isang private garden, with close family and friends who flew in. toasts were made, your best friend teasing about how harrison turned into a romantic sap. "who knew the engineer guy could plan this?"

the wedding day dawned bright. you got ready in a suite, nerves and excitement mixing. "kinakabahan ako," you admitted to your maid of honor.

"normal yan, pero look at you gorgeous!"

harrison waited at the altar in a small chapel sa montmartre, stained glass windows casting colorful lights. the aisle was lined with white roses, soft music playing.

when you walked down, his eyes teared up. "wow," he mouthed.

the ceremony was intimate. vows exchanged: "y/n, from the moment i met you, i knew you were the one. i promise to love you, protect you, and make you happy every day."

yours: "harrison, you're my rock, my adventure. i vow to stand by you, through everything. mahal na mahal kita."

rings exchanged, kiss sealed it, long, passionate, amid cheers.

reception sa a rooftop venue overlooking paris. first dance to "can't help falling in love," him whispering, "mrs. kim now."

speeches, cake cutting, chocolate with raspberry filling. dancing until late, him stealing kisses.

"happy?" he asked during a slow dance.

"more than words, mahal."

the night ended with him carrying you to the bridal suite, similar to proposal night but more intense.

"time to consummate, wife," he said, voice husky.

he undressed you slowly, praising every part. "such a good girl for me."

oral first: him eating you out, tongue fucking until you squirted. then you on your knees, face fucking you gently at first, then deeper. "take it all, princess."

fingering followed, three fingers stretching you. "ready for my cock?"

positions galore: missionary, doggy, cowgirl. in doggy, he slapped your boobs and pussy lightly, choking you as he thrust.

"fuck, so big," you moaned, size kink evident.

breeding talk: "gonna fill you up, breed you, make you mine forever."

he recorded it on his phone, with consent, "for our memories, mahal."

rough and messy: hair pulling, manhandling, cum everywhere. creampie after creampie, him eating it out.

you squirted multiple times, bed soaked. "good girl, squirting for daddy."

after, he manipulated your tired body gently for cleanup, bath together, massaging sore spots. "i love you, wife. that was incredible."

cuddles, falling asleep in his arms.

honeymoon started right there in paris, extending the stay to two weeks. no rush, just you two exploring as husband and wife.

first day: lazy morning sex. he woke you with kisses down your body, oral again, pussy eating like breakfast. "taste so good, princess."

then slow missionary, unprotected as always, creampie with breeding whispers. "imagine our kids running around here one day."

explored versailles, holding hands, him buying you souvenirs. picnic sa gardens, feeding each other fruits.

evenings: dinner cruises on the seine, toasting to forever.

one night, back sa hotel, intense session. he tied your hands lightly with his tie, dom mode full on. "my sub wife, all mine to use."

face fucking first, you gagging but loving it. then tongue fucking your ass too, rimming you until you begged.

fingering both holes, "so wet and dirty for me."

positions: reverse cowgirl, him slapping ass; then prone bone, choking from behind.

dirty talk: "love slapping this pussy, makes you clench so tight."

tummy bulge again, "feel me deep inside?"

video recording again, capturing your moans.

messy end: squirt, creampie, him eating cum from you, sharing in a kiss.

aftercare: warm bath, him washing your hair, praises. "you're perfect, princess. did so well."

another day: montmartre artists, him commissioning a portrait of you two.

beach day sa nearby normandy, but back to paris for more.

one adventure: sex in a private cabana sa a luxury spa. quick but hot, him fingering you under water, then fucking against the wall.

"quiet, mahal, or they'll hear," but you couldn't, moaning loud.

breeding kink strong: "gonna knock you up here in paris."

nights blended: oral swaps, 69 position, both eating each other.

he loved praise: "good girl, sucking daddy so well."

you submissive, loving his dominance.

final night: rooftop dinner, then marathon sex. all positions, lotus for intimacy, doggy for roughness.

hair pulling, choking, slapping everywhere.

multiple orgasms, squirts, creampies.

he ate his cum from your pussy, then fed it to you.

tummy bulge pressed, "full of me, princess."

video for keepsake.

exhausted, aftercare supreme: cuddles, hydration, talks about future.

"paris will always be our city," he said.

you agreed, "with you, anywhere is home."

as you flew back, ring sparkling, bodies sated, hearts full, your parisian au felt like a dream, but it was real. forever starts now.

[atinyzenflwr]

apostate

pairing: priest!jongho x fem!reader

genre: smut

wc: 1k

summary: a forbidden confession turns dangerously intimate as a penitent admits her sinful obsession with a priest, only for desire, power, and control to blur the line between repentance and damnation. in the shadows of a confessional, whispered fantasies escalate into a dark, taboo encounter driven by authority, corruption, and surrender, where sin is embraced rather than absolved and the cost of wanting becomes deliciously irreversible.

cw: explicit sexual content, religious kink, dubious morality, priest kink, authority figure kink, power imbalance, taboo relationship, sacrilegious themes, blasphemy, corruption, explicit sexual acts, masturbation, penetrative sex, dirty talk, degradation kink, praise and degradation, orgasm control edging, breeding kink, consensual choking

You’re kneeling in the dimly lit confessional, the wooden kneeler biting into your skin through the thin fabric of your skirt. The air smells faintly of incense and old wood, heavy with secrets. The lattice screen between you and Father Jongho is the only thing separating your trembling body from his steady, unyielding presence.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned,” you whisper, voice barely above a breath.

A low hum comes from the other side—deep, controlled, almost amused.

“How long since your last confession, child?”

“Too long,” you admit, cheeks burning. “I… I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Silence stretches. Then his voice drops, velvet and dark.

“Tell me exactly what you think about when you’re alone in your bed, touching yourself like the needy little sinner you are.”

Your breath hitches. You press your thighs together, already slick, already aching.

“I think about your hands,” you confess, words tumbling out in a rush. “How big they are. How they’d feel pinning my wrists above my head while you fuck me against the altar. I think about your mouth—how you’d bite my throat and tell me I’m going to hell for wanting a priest’s cock this badly.”

A soft, dangerous chuckle filters through the screen.

“Such filthy thoughts for such a pretty mouth. Keep going.”

“I imagine you bending me over the pews after mass,” you continue, voice shaking. “Skirt shoved up to my waist, panties ripped to the side, and you just… slamming into me. No mercy. Telling me I’m your dirty little secret while you fill me up until it drips down my thighs.”

You hear the faint rustle of fabric on his side. The slow, deliberate sound of a zipper being lowered.

“Touch yourself,” he orders, voice rougher now. “Right now. Slide your fingers under that skirt and show me how wet that cunt gets just from talking to me.”

You obey instantly, pushing lace aside, fingertips gliding through your folds. You’re soaked—obscenely so. A soft whimper escapes when you circle your clit.

“Good girl,” he murmurs. “Are you dripping for your priest? Is that tight little hole clenching around nothing, begging for something holy to stretch it open?”

“Y-yes, Father,” you gasp, hips rocking against your hand. “It’s throbbing. It hurts.”

“Describe it to me.”

“It’s… swollen. Hot. Every time I brush my clit I feel it pulse. I’m making a mess on the kneeler, Father. I’m sorry—”

“Don’t be sorry,” he cuts in, voice thick with lust. “I want you to ruin it. I want every person who kneels here tomorrow to smell how desperate you were for me.”

You moan—quiet but broken. Your fingers slip lower, teasing your entrance.

“Put two inside,” he commands. “Fuck yourself the way you wish I was fucking you. Slow. Deep. Imagine it’s my cock splitting you open while I whisper how much of a whore you are for wanting this.”

You push two fingers in, gasping at the stretch. It’s not enough—not nearly—but the angle makes your palm grind against your clit with every thrust.

“That’s it,” he growls. “Pump that greedy pussy. Louder. Let me hear how wet you are for a man who’s supposed to be celibate.”

The slick sounds fill the tiny booth—obscene, unmistakable. Your breathing turns ragged.

“Father… I—I’m close already—”

“Not yet.” His voice is steel. “Edge yourself. Bring yourself right to the brink and then stop. Do it again. And again. Until you’re crying and begging me to let you come on my cock instead of your own fingers.”

You whimper, obeying. Each time you get close—body shaking, walls fluttering—you pull your fingers out, trembling, tears pricking your eyes.

“Please,” you sob after the fourth edge. “Please, Father Jongho… I can’t—I need—”

“Say my name again,” he demands. “Say it like you’re praying.”

“Jongho,” you choke out, voice wrecked. “Father Jongho… please fuck me. Please ruin me. I’ll be so good—I’ll take every inch, I’ll swallow every drop, just please—”

The screen between you rattles. Then his voice, closer, darker, almost against your ear through the lattice.

“Stand up. Turn around. Hands on the wall. Ass out.”

You scramble to obey, skirt hiked, panties shoved down to your knees, back arched, presenting yourself like an offering.

You hear him move—door opening, footsteps. Then heat at your back. Rough hands grip your hips, yanking you flush against him. You feel the thick, heavy length of him slide between your thighs, gliding through your soaked folds without entering.

“Look at this dripping cunt,” he mutters against your neck, teeth grazing skin. “Soaking a priest’s cock like the filthy penitent you are. You’re going to come just from me rubbing against you, aren’t you? No penetration. Not yet. Just my dick sliding through your slick little slit until you break.”

He rocks forward—slow, deliberate—cockhead bumping your clit on every pass. You’re shaking, sobbing, thighs trembling.

“Beg,” he growls.

“Please—please, Father—Jongho—fuck me, fill me, breed me, I don’t care—just let me come on your cock—”

He thrusts once—hard, deep, burying every inch inside you in one brutal stroke.

You scream—muffled against your own arm.

“That’s it,” he hisses, already pounding into you. “Take your punishment. Take every thick inch of your priest’s cock like the desperate little slut you’ve always been.”

The confessional fills with the wet slap of skin, your broken moans, his filthy praises.

“You’re clenching so fucking tight—gonna milk me dry, aren’t you? Gonna come all over the cock that’s supposed to be saving your soul?”

“Yes—yes—God, yes—”

“Come,” he snarls, hand wrapping around your throat, squeezing just enough. “Come on your priest’s cock. Show me how much you love being damned.”

You shatter—vision whiting out, walls spasming, gushing around him as he fucks you through it, relentless.

He doesn’t stop.

Not until he’s buried to the hilt, groaning low against your ear as he floods you—hot, thick pulses that make you whimper all over again.

When he finally stills, he presses a surprisingly gentle kiss to the back of your neck.

“Say your act of contrition, baby,” he murmurs, voice wrecked but smug. “And mean it this time.”

You whispered—breathless, shaky—still impaled on him.

“Forgive me, Father… for I have sinned…”

[liuhsng]

─────⋆˚࿔ ⋆ relapse ( khj ! )

✩ˎˊ˗ ateez masterlist ( coming soon )

⤷ pairing — hongjoong x fem!reader

⤷ word count — 12k ⤷ permanent taglist — open !

⤷ a/n — hi my loves !! this is one of the last ateez pieces before i dive back into finishing my enhypen works. as always, thank you for the love, the support, and for staying with me through all my wips. please enjoy 🤍

⤷ warnings — smut (minors dni), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), rough sex, dom!hongjoong, bottom!reader, possessive!hongjoong, markings (hickies and biting), idol!au, idol!hongjoong, kinda runner!hongjoong, non-idol!reader, reader is seonghwa’s younger sister, fuck buddies, dirty talk, manhandling, oral sex (f & m receiving), hair pulling, choking (light), slapping (impact play), overstimulation, multiple rounds, creampie, praise kink, degradation (light), avoidant!hongjoong, aftercare, fluff

✩ˎˊ˗ summary — kim hongjoong is a man of control—over his music, his time, his life. but everyone has a guilty pleasure, and his just happens to be his best friend’s little sister—the one person he should never want, and the only one he can’t stay away from. or wherein what starts as stolen glances and unsaid rules turns into something neither distance nor self-control can outrun.

Hongjoong had half a mind to either throw Seonghwa off a cliff or drop to his knees and thank him like some sort of saint.

There was no in-between.

Because really—this was Seonghwa’s fault.

Hongjoong was a busy man. Not the kind of busy people exaggerated about over coffee, but the kind that lived in calendar blocks and half-finished meals.

His days started before the sun and ended long after it disappeared, hours spent hunched over a desk littered with lyric sheets and coffee cups gone cold, beats looping from nine to five until the walls of the studio felt like they were breathing with him.

Sleep was optional. Food was negotiable. Leisure was something he had to be dragged into, kicking and protesting, and even then his mind never really left work.

Some days, he missed the sun entirely.

Either locked inside the company studio, doors shut, lights dimmed just enough to keep him awake, or buried in sketchbooks filled with clothing designs he swore he’d release ‘soon’—a word that meant nothing and everything at once.

Creation followed him everywhere. It clung to his fingers, crawled into his head, refused to leave him alone even when his body begged for rest.

And Seonghwa knew this.

Which was why Hongjoong wanted to scream when Seonghwa introduced you.

Seonghwa—older, a brother he respected with years of shared history and quiet loyalty—had always been secretive. Protective to a fault. Especially when it came to family.

Even with the rest of the team, there were lines he never crossed, doors he never opened. So when he stepped aside and gestured toward you like it was nothing, Hongjoong’s first thought was disbelief.

Like hell.

It had been a year into their debut when Seonghwa finally decided to clear his throat in the middle of Hongjoong’s studio room.

The timing alone was criminal.

Hongjoong stood with his back turned, shoulders hunched, fingers hovering over the keyboard as the same eight bars looped for what felt like the hundredth time.

His hair was a mess, curls flattened in places from resting his forehead against the desk at some ungodly hour, and his white shirt reeked of coffee—bitter, stale, clinging to him like proof of the last forty-eight hours he hadn’t slept.

The studio lights were dimmed, not for atmosphere but mercy.

The soft sound behind him made him pause.

A throat clearing.

Hongjoong groaned before he even turned around, plopping his headphones down around his neck as he spun in his chair. He blinked, slow and unfocused, eyes burning as he tried to force the fog out of his head.

“What’s up?” he muttered, voice rough, like it had been dragged across concrete.

Seonghwa grimaced.

He stood way too close to the slightly open door, one hand braced against the frame as his eyes swept over Hongjoong in a single, assessing glance—taking in the dark circles, the stiff posture, the untouched takeout box sitting cold on the side table.

Then his gaze flicked to the large monitors behind Hongjoong, the waveform frozen mid-loop.

“When was the last time you slept?” Seonghwa asked.

Hongjoong shrugged, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palm. He leaned forward to grab the discarded hoodie off the carpeted floor, pulling it over himself like armor, tugging the hood halfway up his head to look marginally more presentable.

“Two days ago,” he said flatly. “What do you need?”

Straight to the point. Always.

Seonghwa sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “For the love of God, fix yourself up. I’m giving you ten minutes.”

Hongjoong blinked at him, slow and lazy, the words barely registering. “Ten minutes for what?”

“I want to introduce you to someone.”

That made Hongjoong pause.

He stared at Seonghwa like he’d just spoken a different language. Introduce. Someone. In his studio. Now.

“Oh,” Hongjoong muttered, turning back to his desk. “Can it wait?”

“No.”

That got his attention.

Seonghwa’s soft gaze sharpened, the warmth draining as his patience thinned. “Ten minutes, Kim Hongjoong.”

Seonghwa pushed the door shut, harder than necessary, the click echoing through the studio. Hongjoong flinched, scowling as he leaned back in his chair.

“Good grief,” he muttered under his breath.

Hongjoong sighed, long and tired, reaching for the untouched water bottle on his desk. The plastic crinkled under his grip as he twisted the cap open, took a short sip, then another—enough to calm himself, not enough to wake him up.

He pushed open the door to the cramped bathroom tucked inside the studio, the hinges creaking softly as if even the room knew better than to be loud.

The mirror greeted him with a version of himself he barely recognized. He leaned forward, bracing both hands against the sink before splashing water onto his face.

He scrubbed his hands together, dragged damp fingers through his ash-dyed hair in a futile attempt to tame it, watching curls spring right back out of place like they always did. His eyes flicked downward briefly, irritation flaring when he noticed the zipper of his pants—half undone.

He fixed it with a quiet curse.

Five hours. That was how long he’d been in and out of the bathroom without noticing.

He exhaled, straightened, tugged at the hem of his hoodie, then turned off the light and stepped back out.

Ten minutes later, when he finally left the studio for real, he had to blink against the harsh brightness of the company hallway. The overhead lights felt aggressive after hours in dim silence, and it took a second for his eyes to adjust.

That was when he saw Seonghwa.

Their oldest member sat by the long chairs outside the studio, posture relaxed, one arm draped casually over the backrest. But he wasn’t alone.

He was talking to someone.

Hongjoong slowed, steps faltering without him meaning to. He hovered just at the edge of the hallway, half-hidden by the doorframe, suddenly unsure whether to move forward or retreat back into the safety of four walls and unfinished music.

The dark hair caught the light first—soft, almost glowing. It bounced slightly as you laughed, the sound was light, slipping easily past Seonghwa’s usual composure. Hongjoong watched the way Seonghwa leaned in just a fraction, listening, engaged.

Too engaged.

You seemed too deep into the conversation to notice anything else, and for a moment Hongjoong considered staying exactly where he was—unseen, untouched, unaffected.

But the lock of the studio door slid into place behind him, louder than it had any right to be.

Seonghwa turned at the sound.

And just like that, Hongjoong’s breath was stolen from his lungs.

Not the way it happened on stage, under lights and cheers, adrenaline pumping so hard it felt like flying. Not the kind that came with choreo so sharp it knocked the air out of him.

This was different.

Seonghwa straightened, a small smile tugging at his lips. “You’re alive,” he said mildly.

Hongjoong swallowed. “Barely.”

Your gaze followed Seonghwa’s, landing on him.

Hongjoong reasoned it had to be the caffeine.

Or maybe the sudden palpitations coursing through his veins were from the harsh morning light finally greeting him after hours of artificial dimness. That had to be it.

Anything but the way his chest felt tight all of a sudden, like something had lodged itself right behind his ribs.

Seonghwa hummed as he stood, meeting Hongjoong halfway. The latter lifted his fist lazily, bumping it against Seonghwa’s in greeting.

Seonghwa grimaced. “Have some manners, you moron.”

Hongjoong winced. “Ow.”

Despite himself, despite you sitting right there, Seonghwa reached out and patted Hongjoong’s shoulder, firm and familiar. “Come on,” he added, already nudging him forward. “It’s bad to keep a lady waiting, you know.”

The hallway felt narrower. Closer. Hongjoong suddenly became painfully aware of the hoodie clinging to his skin, oversized as it was, trapping heat instead of hiding him. His palms felt warm. His pulse was loud.

You stood up as they approached.

The soft fabric of your dress brushed your upper thighs where it ended, the coat draped around your shoulders doing little to hide the movement.

You smiled—easy, genuine—when the two of them stopped in front of you, and Hongjoong had the absurd thought that maybe he wasn’t as short as he always claimed to be.

Because the way he seemed to tower over you did something strange to him.

Seonghwa shifted beside you, leaving your side briefly, and said with a grin far too smug, “You’re one lucky bastard. You’re the first one I’m introducing her to.”

You rolled your eyes. “Language.”

Seonghwa’s grin softened instantly, sheepish in a way Hongjoong had never seen before. “My bad.”

Hongjoong raised a brow, watching the way their oldest member’s usually demanding, careful exterior melted into something warmer—gentler—when he looked at you. It unsettled him more than he expected.

Seonghwa turned back to Hongjoong, who was now openly bewildered. “Hongjoong,” he said evenly, “this is my younger sister—(Y/N).”

Hongjoong’s breath hitched.

“(Y/N),” Seonghwa continued, glancing at you, “this is Hongjoong. Our leader.”

You didn’t hesitate.

You stepped forward and held out your hand, and before Hongjoong could think better of it, instinct took over. He clasped your hand firmly, the span of his fingers wrapping around yours completely. Your skin was warm. Soft.

A bright smile lit up your face. “It’s really nice to meet you,” you said. “I hope Seonghwa’s been nothing but kind.”

Silence answered you.

Hongjoong stared. Blank.

You tilted your head, concern flickering across your expression as you leaned in just a little, lowering your voice. “Are you okay?”

The scent of strawberries reached him then—light, sweet, unmistakable.

He inhaled sharply.

Hongjoong cleared his throat, finally remembering himself, gently shaking your hand that was still held in his. “Sorry,” he said, voice a little hoarse. “I’m Hongjoong. It’s nice to meet you, (Y/N).”

He tested your name on his tongue.

It felt sweet—strangely sweet—for someone he had just met.

Weirdly sweet for him, who never let people that close that fast. Not the way he scolded the members, not the way he watched staff move quietly behind cameras, always careful, always distant.

This was different. Entirely different.

Your hand was still in his, soft and warm, shaking slightly with a kind of nervous excitement he didn’t hate. Didn’t mind. Might’ve liked, actually. You leaned closer without realizing it, closing the small space between you until Seonghwa let out a low chuckle.

“Okay,” Seonghwa said, amused. “Give the man some space, (Y/N). He values it.”

You blinked, cheeks immediately dusted pink. “Oh—my bad. I’m so sorry. I just—” you laughed softly as you stepped back, your warmth leaving his grasp far too soon, “I’m just excited to meet you.”

Hongjoong felt the cold immediately.

He had half a mind to curse Seonghwa for pulling you away—verbally, at least—but instead, a smile crept onto his lips before he could stop it. Small. Unguarded.

“I don’t mind,” Hongjoong said, shaking his head. “It’s fine.”

Seonghwa hummed under his breath, eyes narrowing just slightly as he observed the way Hongjoong’s usually sharp exterior seemed to melt within minutes of meeting you.

That wasn’t normal.

Hongjoong tilted his head, gesturing down the hallway. “So,” he asked, casual despite the way his heart still hadn’t settled, “what are you doing here?”

Your eyes lit up instantly. “Oh! I don’t have university today,” you said, nodding. “So Seonghwa thought it’d be a good idea to bring me around. And, well—I didn’t really have anything else to do.”

As you spoke, you started walking, and Hongjoong—without thinking—fell into step beside you. The two of you moved slowly down the hallway, your voice animated as you talked about your schedule, your classes, the way your hands moved when you explained things.

Seonghwa trailed behind, watching with open disbelief as their leader—who guarded his personal space like it was sacred ground—let you walk beside him, nodding, responding, occasionally glancing down at you with an expression Seonghwa couldn’t quite place.

Seonghwa sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. “Do I want Kim Hongjoong as my brother-in-law?” he muttered to himself.

Ahead of him, Hongjoong laughed quietly at something you said.

Hongjoong decided—very calmly—that he wanted to throw Seonghwa off a cliff.

Because why, out of all the days and all the free hours they barely ever had, did Seonghwa think it was a good idea to invite you again?

Everyone else had scattered the moment they were released from schedules. San and Yeosang had claimed the company gym, already mid-competition over who could outlast the other.

Yunho and Mingi were nowhere to be found—later reports from staff would confirm they’d passed out in one of the lounges after a disastrous attempt to see who could eat and drink the most from the cafeteria downstairs.

Jongho and Wooyoung were apparently chasing each other through the halls, laughter echoing wherever they went.

And Hongjoong was sitting rigidly beside you.

You occupied the seat next to him, delicate fingers flying over Seonghwa’s laptop—the same one he’d handed you without hesitation before excusing himself to the bathroom.

That had been twenty minutes ago.

Twenty minutes of Seonghwa not returning.

Twenty minutes of Hongjoong gripping an iced coffee so hard the condensation soaked into his palm, cold and slick, grounding him just enough to keep him from spiraling. He’d bought three drinks earlier—muscle memory, habit—but now there were only two.

Seonghwa, traitor that he was, had left you alone with him anyway.

The space between your thighs was minimal. Just a few inches. Close enough that Hongjoong was painfully aware of every small movement you made.

His gaze betrayed him.

It drifted from the lengthy paper pulled up on the screen to your hands, to the charms on your nails catching the fluorescent lights overhead. Tiny details. Colors he wouldn’t normally notice.

He hummed quietly, eyes flicking up to scan the nearly empty company cafeteria. A few staff lingered behind the counter, voices low as they took their own quick breaks. Otherwise, it was quiet. Too quiet.

“So,” Hongjoong said finally, voice softer than he intended, “what are you working on?”

You glanced at him, eyes bright. “Oh—this? Just an assignment. Seonghwa said I could finish it here while he waited.”

At that, Hongjoong took a slow sip of the iced coffee in his hands, the bitterness calming him as he ignored the way your voice stirred something restless in his chest. It usually took obscene amounts of caffeine to get his heart racing like this—but this felt different.

It was unwarranted, unwanted.

He pushed it down.

“Hm,” he grumbled, raising a brow as he leaned just slightly closer, bracing one hand against the edge of the table. Close enough to read a few lines on the screen without meaning to. “Where is your brother anyway?”

You blinked at him.

Long lashes brushed the apples of your cheeks, and Hongjoong craned his head to the side a fraction, suddenly very invested in the condensation sliding down his cup—anything to hide the heat creeping up his face.

He cursed under his breath.

You looked like Seonghwa in more ways than one. The doe-eyed glances when you looked up, the soft giggles that escaped without warning, the easy smiles. But where Seonghwa was elegant and androgynous, you were—dangerously—something else.

Pure beauty.

The kind that made Hongjoong uneasy.

You hummed thoughtfully. “He said he had a recording today.”

That made Hongjoong turn fully to you, brow lifting. “Recording?”

You nodded, lashes fluttering again as you met his gaze. The hem of your dress brushed your knees when you moved, fabric catching the light—another reason, Hongjoong decided, that Seonghwa deserved to be thrown off a cliff.

He let you leave the house looking like this?

“Since when does Seonghwa schedule things and then disappear for half an hour?” Hongjoong muttered.

You laughed softly. “Since always.”

Hongjoong huffed, the sound barely audible over the café’s low hum, fingers tightening around his cup. He knew—for a fact—that Seonghwa didn’t have a recording today.

He’d gone over the free schedules with one of the managers just two days ago, color-coding, annotating, making sure nothing slipped through the cracks. Seonghwa’s name had been glaringly empty.

Which meant this wasn’t work.

He took another sip of his coffee, eyes flicking to the window for half a second before they came back to you. You were already watching him, chin tilted just slightly, eyes warm in that infuriatingly calm way that made him feel like he was the one being studied.

You lifted your cup, took a slow sip, then smiled at him over the rim.

Hongjoong tilted his head, brow knitting together. There was something about the way you held his gaze—unblinking, unapologetic—that made it feel like you were peeling him open layer by layer. And then, absentmindedly, you licked your lips. Soft. Unrushed.

He looked away a beat too late.

A second. That was all it took.

One second too long, and Yunho’s knowing brow raise from a few days earlier flashed in his mind—every time you stood just a little too close to him, every time Hongjoong leaned down instead of asking you to speak up.

“You always do that,” Hongjoong said suddenly.

You blinked. “Do what?”

“Smile like you know something I don’t.”

You laughed again, quieter this time, eyes crinkling. “Maybe I do.”

He scoffed. “Seonghwa’s either hiding somewhere to get peace and quiet, or he’s setting us up.”

“Us?” you echoed, amused.

He shot you a look. “Don’t play dumb.”

Your smile softened, but you didn’t deny it. Instead, you leaned back in your chair, crossing your legs slowly. “He’s protective, sure. But he’s not stupid. He knows I can handle myself.”

Hongjoong’s jaw ticked. “That’s not what worries me.”

“Oh?” you teased. “Then what does?”

Before he could stop himself, the words slipped out. “That he trusts me with you.”

Silence settled between you—the kind that made the air feel heavier, warmer.

You leaned forward, elbows resting on the table now, voice dropping just enough to make his pulse jump. “And can you?”

Hongjoong stared at you, heart thudding against his ribs. He thought of Seonghwa—his careful eyes, his quiet warnings masked as casual concern.

Thought of how the older member had introduced you with that calm smile, like he was handing Hongjoong something precious and dangerous all at once.

He absolutely wanted to throw Seonghwa off a cliff.

Hongjoong was thinking of more ways than one to kill Seonghwa. He had, in fact, brainstormed at least seven different ways to do it.

Months. It had been months of knowing you, of shared schedules and accidental touches and conversations that lingered a second too long, and still—still—he found himself jumpy, skittish, like a rookie with a crush he didn’t know how to name without choking on it.

There were days he couldn’t even look at you properly.

Like when you’d be sitting on the couch in the practice room, legs tucked under you, scrolling through your phone while he stood behind you pretending to check choreography notes.

His eyes would drift—unbidden—toward your face, the curve of your jaw, the way your lashes brushed your cheeks when you blinked.

And then he’d snap his gaze away like he’d been burned.

“Hyung,” Mingi’s voice cut through the air, dripping with amusement. “If you turn your head any faster, you’re going to snap your neck.”

It was a losing battle.

Every time you were in the room, Hongjoong’s throat would suddenly feel like sandpaper. He’d clear his throat more times than was socially acceptable, usually resulting in a quiet, awkward coughing fit that drew everyone’s attention—specifically yours.

“You okay?” you’d ask, already on your feet.

“I’m fine,” he’d croak, waving a hand uselessly.

You never listened.

You’d cross the room in seconds, palm warm and gentle between his shoulder blades, patting softly. “Breathe, Joong. Slow down.”

That was usually when it got worse.

His cough would hitch, ears flushing a deep, unmistakable red as he tried to lean away without being obvious. “Y—you don’t have to—really, I’ve got it—”

You had pulled your hand back, eyes wide and slightly hurt, and Hongjoong had wanted to die right there. He hadn’t meant to be sharp, but the feeling of your hand on him through his thin shirt was enough to send his heart rate into the danger zone.

But nothing, absolutely nothing, compared to the mornings when you decided to visit their dorm.

Hongjoong stood under the spray of the shower, the water turned to a freezing, icy blast.

He had purposely cranked the handle all the way to ‘cold,’ ignoring the heater entirely. The freezing morning ambience of the bathroom was torture, but it was a necessary one.

He gripped the tiled wall, shivering violently as the water sluiced over him, willing his body to calm the fuck down. It was the only way he could walk out there and face you.

Because you had shown up today in that dress. It wasn’t even that it was inherently inappropriate—it was skimpy in the way that clung to your curves, the hem brushing dangerously high, the neckline dipping just low enough to make him lose his mind every time you leaned forward.

He squeezed his eyes shut, resting his forehead against the cold tile as the freezing water pounded against his back.

It was the only thing capable of killing the very evident, very persistent hard-on that had been tormenting him since the moment he opened the front door and saw you standing there.

“Get it together,” he muttered to himself, teeth chattering slightly.

When he finally emerged, towel-drying his hair and wearing layers to hide the fact that he was still freezing, the tension in the kitchen was thick enough to cut with a knife.

Seonghwa was sitting at the counter, meticulously building a LEGO structure, his expression unreadable. You were moving around the kitchen, unpacking the containers of food you had prepared the night before, setting them out on the counter.

You paused, glancing toward the hallway where Hongjoong had just appeared, looking slightly traumatized and shivering.

“Is he okay?” you asked, your brow furrowed as you looked at your brother. “He looks like he’s freezing to death.”

Seonghwa sighed, long and suffering, placing another red brick onto the castle. He didn’t even look up as he tilted his head, his voice flat.

“You two are grown, mature adults,” he said evenly. “Figure it out yourselves, yeah?”

Hongjoong stood in the doorway, clutching his hoodie around himself like a shield, staring at Seonghwa with absolute betrayal.

The older man just went back to his bricks, whistling a low tune, effectively leaving Hongjoong to fend for himself against the scent of your perfume and the memory of that damn dress.

Hongjoong wasn’t stupid. He knew exactly what game Seonghwa was playing, even if the older member pretended to be aloof, whistling at Legos like he hadn’t just engineered a domestic trap.

Hongjoong saw through it. Seonghwa was setting you up with the only person he deemed competent enough to handle you, someone to pull you from your university spirals and bad habits.

It wasn’t just about protection; it was about trust.

It was why, on the nights you came over crying because you got a ninety-eight instead of a perfect hundred, you ended up in their arms. And it was why Hongjoong was usually the one suffering for it.

He still remembered the last time, sitting on the couch with your tear-streaked face buried in his shoulder, his own face burning red as he mumbled some excuse about forgetting to get you both water—just to escape the suffocating scent of your shampoo and the warmth of your body against his.

Other days, you’d seek comfort differently.

You’d lie down on his lap while he worked in his studio, his heart hammering against his ribs so violently he was sure you could hear it.

He’d wanted to fetch Seonghwa those days, wanted to beg for backup, but the older man was nowhere near Hongdae. He was off in Seoul for some brand photoshoot, having settled down with their manager a few days ago, leaving Hongjoong alone with his crumbling patience.

Hongjoong knew better than to break Seonghwa’s trust. He knew better than to take advantage of your vulnerability when you felt sad.

So what the fuck was he doing the moment he locked the doors to his studio?

He had one arm hooked around your waist, keeping you steady on his lap, holding you in place with a grip that bordered on desperate.

You were pliant, warm, and utterly devastating.

His mouth was busy placing open-mouthed kisses along the column of your exposed neck, the off-the-shoulder design of your dress giving him easier access than he had any right to take.

He was leaving bruises in his wake, little dark marks blooming on your skin like a claim he was too terrified to speak aloud. He pulled back for a split second, smirking at the glint of his saliva on your skin, before diving back in.

“Hongjoong…” you whimpered, your voice wrecked.

His other hand was currently knuckle-deep in your pussy, the sounds obscene and sloppy, echoing lewdly in the small room. He pumped his fingers in and out, curling them just right, addicted to the way your walls clenched around him.

Your hands were gripping his shoulders desperately, your nails digging into the fabric of his shirt.

“Hongjoong, please…”

The sound of his name on your lips made him hum, dark and satisfied. He pressed a soft, mocking kiss to your tear-stained cheek.

Was it the second or third time he’d gotten you cumming on his fingers alone? He couldn’t tell himself with the amount of slick gushing out of you, coating his fingers and the rings that sat on them snugly.

Your panties pushed aside and the material of his pants soaked, but he didn’t have a single care—he could always get them cleaned out, as he says.

“Yes?” he murmured against your skin, voice low and teasing, his thumb circling your swollen clit with pressure that made your hips buck involuntarily. The way your walls fluttered around him, sucking him deeper like you couldn’t get enough, had his cock twitching hard beneath you, straining against the confines of his pants.

He could feel the heat of your core seeping through, the damp spot on his thigh growing with every desperate grind you made.

You were a mess in his hold, breaths coming in ragged gasps, your nails digging into the fabric of his shirt as if clinging yourself to reality. “Please… I—I can’t…” you stuttered, but your body betrayed you, chasing the friction of his hand, the curl of his fingers hitting that spot inside you that made stars burst behind your eyelids.

Hongjoong chuckled softly, the vibration rumbling through his chest and into yours, his free hand sliding up your back to tangle in your hair, tilting your head just enough to expose more of your throat. He nipped at the fresh hickey blooming there, sucking until the skin turned a deeper shade of purple, marking you as his.

“Shh, baby, you can,” he whispered, lips brushing the shell of your ear, his breath hot and uneven. “You take it so well for me—look at you, soaking my hand like this. Feel how wet you are?”

He pulled his fingers out just enough to let you hear the lewd squelch, then plunged them back in, deeper this time, scissoring them to stretch you open. 

Your cry was muffled against his shoulder, body trembling as another wave built low in your belly, coiling tighter with every thrust of his hand.

The rings on his fingers added that extra bite of sensation, the cool metal warming against your heated walls, dragging along every sensitive ridge.

He shifted beneath you, his arm around your waist tightening to keep you from slipping off his lap, the other hand relentless now, pumping in and out with a rhythm that matched the pounding of your heart.

“That’s it, let go again,” he urged, voice husky with his own arousal, eyes dark as he watched your face contort in pleasure.

Tears slipped down your cheeks anew, not from stress this time, but from the overwhelming rush crashing through you.

Your thighs quivered, clamping around his wrist as you shattered, pussy pulsing wildly around his fingers, more slick flooding out to drench his palm.

Hongjoong didn’t stop, not right away—slowing to gentle strokes, drawing out your high until you were whimpering, oversensitive and boneless in his arms.

He withdrew his hand finally, bringing his glistening fingers to his lips, sucking them clean with a groan that sent shivers down your spine.

“Taste so fucking good,” he rasped, eyes locked on yours, the intensity in them making your core clench around nothing.

He leaned in, capturing your lips in a messy kiss, letting you taste yourself on his tongue, the salt of your tears mixing with the sweetness of your release.

Pulling back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, he smoothed a hand over your hair, thumb wiping away the fresh tracks on your cheeks.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asked softly, the protective edge creeping back into his tone, even as his cock throbbed insistently against your hip.

He wanted to take care of you—always had—but right now, with you like this, vulnerable and sated in his lap, the lines blurred in the best way possible.

Hongjoong hummed low in his throat, the vibration rumbling through his chest and into yours, a soothing sound that made your eyelids flutter.

“I'm gonna have to clean you up, (Y/N),” he murmured, his voice husky from exertion, eyes flicking toward the box of tissues perched on the edge of his desk just a few feet away.

The studio felt even quieter now, the faint hum of the air conditioner the only backdrop to your shared breaths, the empty space amplifying every rustle and sigh.

You slumped your head onto his shoulder, exhaustion pulling at your limbs like weights, but you wrapped your arms around his neck anyway—desperate for the solid warmth of him, the way his body enveloped yours so completely.

Your fingers tangled in the damp strands at the nape of his neck, inhaling the faint scent of his cologne mixed with sweat. Despite the tiredness weighing you down, you nuzzled closer, your cheek pressing against the soft fabric of his shirt.

With a contented sigh, Hongjoong moved beneath you, his strong arms flexing as he effortlessly lifted you just a few inches—enough to give him access without fully separating your bodies.

The movement made your pussy clench involuntarily around nothing, a fresh trickle of your arousal seeping out, and you bit your lip to stifle another whimper.

He grabbed a handful of tissues from the box, his touch gentle as he brought them between your legs, dabbing carefully at your swollen folds.

You hissed sharply at the contact, your hips jerking away on instinct. “Sensitive,” you whispered, voice breathy and cracked, burying your face deeper into his shoulder as a shiver raced up your spine.

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” Hongjoong cooed.

He worked methodically, wiping away the evidence of your passion with feather-light strokes, his free hand rubbing soothing patterns on your lower back.

Internally, he marveled at how fragile you looked like this—flushed and spent, trusting him with every vulnerable inch of you. He tossed the used tissues into the small bin tucked below the desk, the soft thud barely audible in the stillness.

Once you were as clean as he could manage, he reached down to slide your panties back into place, the lace whispering over your sensitive skin.

He sighed softly, noting how the fabric that had been pushed aside earlier remained miraculously unstained and dry—a small mercy in the heat of the moment. His fingers lingered for a second, tracing the edge before he patted your hair down gently, trying to tame the wild tangles and smooth out the flush on your cheeks.

He wanted you to look less thoroughly fucked out, more like you could pass for just tired if anyone glanced in, though the thought of hiding this from the world twisted something jealous in his gut.

Hongjoong pulled you closer, his arms banding around your waist as he muttered to himself under his breath, “Seonghwa’s going to kill me.”

The words were half-joking, half-serious, his mind flashing to the promises he’d made months ago—vows to keep things professional, to not cross that line with you, Seonghwa’s little sister by proxy in their tight-knit circle.

This could never happen again.

But he knew to himself that it was a lie.

Because now, here he was again, caging you beneath him on his bed.

The dorm was empty, the kind of heavy, silence that only happened when everyone else was out running errands or attending schedules. It was just you and him, alone in the dim light of his room.

And it was all Seonghwa’s fault, really.

He had called you earlier that morning, rambling something about not opening his door because he was locked in a schedule, and adding something about how “He’s been weird, (Y/N),”

You'd laughed it off then, but you hadn't hesitated—rushing to the dorm without a second thought, leaving everything behind in your haste. It had led you straight here, tangled in sheets that still smelled faintly of him, your body marked by his touch.

“You really came running, didn’t you?” Hongjoong murmured now, his lips brushing your temple as he settled his weight more fully atop you, one hand cupping your face to tilt it up toward his.

Gently, he pushed the small strands of hair away from your face, his fingers lingering to tuck them behind your ear with a care that made your breath hitch.

His other arm, previously braced beside your head, slid lower, wrapping around your waist to pull you impossibly closer beneath him.

The sheets of his bed rumpled further under the shift, cool against your heated back, a contrast to the fire building where his body pressed into yours. He dipped his head, trailing soft kisses down the column of your neck, each one a feather-light press that ignited sparks along your nerves.

Your shirt—his oversized tee that you’d thrown on haphazardly earlier—rode up with his movements, bunching at your ribs to expose the soft flesh of your stomach.

In the low glow from the bedside lamp, your skin seemed to shimmer, supple and inviting, drawing his gaze like a magnet. Hongjoong’s lips found that bare expanse, sucking gently on the tender skin just above your navel, his tongue flicking out to taste the salt of your perspiration.

The sensation pulled a low moan from deep in your throat, your back arching off the mattress in a instinctive bow, pressing your core against the hard line of his thigh still slotted between your legs.

Your hand reached up instinctively, fingers threading through the soft, disheveled strands of his hair, tugging lightly as his mouth ventured lower.

The world narrowed to the heat of his breath ghosting over your skin, your mind already fogging with anticipation, every nerve attuned to his touch.

He hovered just above the lace waistband of your panties, the fabric still slightly askew from before, and tilted his head up to meet your hazy gaze.

“Tell me what you want,” he muttered, voice rough and laced with hunger, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your pulse race.

You blinked down at him, the pleasure already coiling tight in your belly, words tumbling out in a breathless rush.

His hands reached down, fingers toying with the delicate lace edge, tracing the curve of your hip before he pressed a lingering kiss to the inside of your thigh. The warmth of his mouth there made your muscles quiver, a shiver racing up your spine.

“I need words, sweetheart,” he said softly, his tone firm yet coaxing, lips brushing the sensitive skin as he waited, his breath fanning over you.

“Please, Hongjoong,” you whispered, the plea escaping on a shaky exhale, your hips shifting restlessly beneath him. “I need you—anything. Just… don’t stop.”

He didn’t hesitate, a low growl rumbling in his chest as his fingers hooked into the waistband and tugged the laced fabric down your thighs, the cool air of the room kissing your exposed pussy.

Instinctively, your legs drew together, a reflexive shyness flooding you despite the vulnerability of the moment, but Hongjoong clicked his tongue in gentle admonishment.

His hands were there in an instant, palms pressing against your inner thighs to part them softly, slotting his broad shoulders between your legs with effortless strength.

He groaned, the sound vibrating through you as he settled in, his face inches from your core. “Stop that,” he murmured, voice thick with desire. “You’re beautiful—every inch of you. Let me see.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the reverence in his words, a flush creeping up your neck even as your body relaxed under his touch.

He pressed a series of kisses along your upper thigh, nipping lightly at the skin with his teeth—bites that teased without leaving marks, mindful of your love for those shortest dresses and skirts that hugged your figure and turned heads.

The faint sting bloomed into warmth, making you squirm, a giggle bubbling up unexpectedly. “Joong, that tickles,” you laughed, the sound light and breathless, your fingers tightening in his hair.

He smiled against your thigh, the curve of his lips pressing into your skin as he glanced up at you, eyes sparkling with mischief and affection.

Without another word, he leaned in, giving an experimental lick up the length of your folds—flat and slow, his tongue dragging through your slick heat.

Your eyes fluttered shut, a gasp tearing from your lips as pleasure jolted through you like electricity, your fingers finding purchase in his hair once more, arching your hips toward his mouth in silent demand.

Hongjoong groaned at the taste of you, the vibration sending fresh waves of sensation pulsing through your core. His arms reached up, hands splaying across your lower stomach, pressing down firmly to pin you in place as you whined against the restraint, your body writhing instinctively.

He held you steady, his tongue darting in once more—experimental at first, circling your entrance before flicking up to tease your clit. The direct contact made you moan sharply, the sound raw and unrestrained.

“Ngh—Hongjoong,” you gasped, but your hand flew to your mouth, muffling the noise in a surge of self-consciousness.

He paused, one hand lifting to pat your lower stomach once—a gentle reminder that made you drop your hand immediately.

Raising a brow from between your legs, his gaze met yours. “None of that shy bullshit,” he said, voice low and edged with playfulness, before diving back in.

His assault was relentless now, tongue lapping and sucking at your folds with hunger, groaning deeply at the tangy sweetness of your juices coating his mouth. The wet sounds of his efforts filled the quiet room, mingling with your escalating whimpers.

One hand released its hold on your thigh, sliding down to slowly push a single finger into your welcoming heat—the intrusion slick and easy, your walls clenching around him greedily.

You moaned out loud, the stretch amplifying every sensation. “Fuck—right there,” you panted, hips bucking despite his grip, chasing the building pressure.

Hongjoong hummed in response, the vibration humming against your clit as he knew your body better than you sometimes did himself—curling his finger just so, scissoring it in and out with strokes that hit that perfect spot inside you.

The sweetest moans spilled from your lips, unfiltered and desperate, your body trembling under him as whimpers turned to pleas. He released your clit with a small, obscene pop, pulling back just enough to watch your face contort in utter bliss—brows furrowed, cheeks flushed a deep pink, lips parted on silent cries.

A small smirk tugged at his lips, turning into a full grin as he admired you, never ceasing the rhythm of his finger. ‘God, she’s never looked prettier,’ he thought, chest swelling with a fierce protectiveness and adoration.

Your moans grew small and breathy, the telltale sign he recognized instantly, and he tilted his head, voice muffled against your skin. “You cumming for me, sweetheart?”

You nodded frantically, words barely coherent. “I’m close—please, don’t stop.”

Hongjoong wasted no time, diving back into your folds with renewed vigor, his tongue lapping and assaulting every sensitive surface he could reach—circling your clit, delving into your entrance alongside his finger, adding a second to stretch you further.

The dual sensations overwhelmed you, pleasure cresting like a tidal wave until you shattered, gushing around his fingers in hot pulses that coated his lips and chin.

He groaned at the taste, lapping it up greedily, his free hand stroking your thigh soothingly as you rode out the high, body quaking in his hold.

Hongjoong smiled lightly at the blissed-out look on your face, his chest tightening with a fondness so potent it almost hurt. You looked wrecked, completely undone by his hands, yet there was a softness to your features that made his heart stutter.

Slowly, carefully, he leaned down, resting his forehead against the soft skin of your thigh. The position was intimate, calming him amidst the chaos of his own racing thoughts.

Your fingers found their way into his hair, threading through the damp strands gently, your nails scratching lightly at his scalp in a way that made him hum in contentment.

The silence in the room was heavy, but it wasn’t uncomfortable—it was thick with unspoken words and the scent of what you’d just done.

He closed his eyes, inhaling the scent of your skin, and the question that had been haunting him for months surfaced again, louder this time.

Just how many more months and years could the both of you hide whatever this is?

It was getting harder. Before, it was just lingering glances and accidental touches. Now, it was locked doors and bitten-back moans, it was sneaking around behind Seonghwa’s back like a guilty teenager despite the fact that you were both adults.

Hongjoong knew he was playing a dangerous game. He was falling in love with his best friend’s little sister, and worse, he was letting himself indulge in it.

“You’re thinking too loud,” you murmured sleepily, your voice vibrating through him where his head rested.

Hongjoong let out a huff of amusement, turning his head slightly to press a kiss to the inside of your knee. “Can you hear my thoughts?”

“No,” you hummed, your hand continuing to stroke his hair, the rhythmic motion soothing him more than he cared to admit.

“But I know that look. It’s the one you get when you’re weighing the pros and cons of something you know you shouldn’t be doing.”

He lifted his head then, propping his chin up on your stomach so he could look at you. His eyes were serious, searching yours for any sign of regret, but he found none. You were looking at him with a soft gaze that made his breath hitch.

“I’m just wondering how long we can keep getting away with this,” Hongjoong admitted softly, his voice rough in the quiet room. “Sooner or later, Seonghwa is going to notice. He knows everything.”

You reached down, tracing the line of his jaw with your thumb. “Then maybe we stop hiding.’

“It’s not that simple,” he said, though he leaned into your touch like a starved man. “He trusts me. I’m the one who’s supposed to be looking out for you, not… not defiling you in my room.”

“I’m not a child, Hongjoong,” you scolded gently, your fingers trailing down to play with the chain around his neck. “And you didn’t defile me. I wanted this just as much as you did. More, maybe.”

Hongjoong chuckled, a low, dry sound, as he caught your hand in his, pressing a kiss to your palm. “You have no idea what you do to me. It scares the shit out of me sometimes.”

“Join the club,” you teased, though your smile was soft. “But for now… can we just have this? Just this moment? Let’s worry about Seonghwa later.”

It turned out that Hongjoong’s way of ‘looking out for you’ looked an awful lot like disappearing from your life for five months.

It started slow. The secret dates where he’d meet you in darkened corners of the city turned into casual hangouts with the rest of the group whenever they had a break from the stage.

Those intimate movie marathons in his studio, where he’d hold you until his arm went numb, were replaced by you laughing in the cafeteria with Mingi.

Hongjoong had watched from a distance the other day, his jaw tight, as Mingi eagerly showed you his favorite way to eat ramen, Yunho cackling beside you when Mingi’s clumsiness resulted in sauce splattering everywhere instead of in his mouth.

The stolen kisses and desperate make-out sessions inside empty dance practice rooms had evaporated into thin air. Now, when you passed each other in the hallway, you were lucky if you got a small hug or a stiff pat on the back.

It hurt. It hurt to admit it, but it fucking hurt. And he knew it hurt you too.

Hongjoong sat at the dining table in the middle of the dorm living room, his laptop open in front of him, glowing with the faces of their managers on a video conference. He was nodding at whatever they were saying—something about tour logistics and stage timings—but he wasn’t hearing a word.

He had signed up for a 6km run tomorrow late afternoon, a grueling addition to his already packed schedule. He told himself it was for a better cause, for stamina, for the team.

But really? It was just an outlet. A way to burn off the pent-up sexual frustration and the self-loathing that came from choosing to push you away. Every time he saw you smile at someone else, it felt like a knife twisting in his gut.

In the kitchen, a huge mess had erupted.

You were currently in the middle of a flour fight with San. Hongjoong’s eyes darted over, watching as San dumped a handful of flour onto your head.

He used his fingers to twirl the white powder into your hair, laughing as he admired how the dusting contrasted with the brown dyed strands you took such great care of.

You were giggling, face flushed, and Hongjoong had to physically restrain himself from marching over there and wiping that smug look off San’s face.

San grabbed another handful of flour, squishing it onto your cheeks, and the physical contact made Hongjoong’s fists clench under the table.

Seonghwa walked into the room then, looking like a zombie.

His hair was a messy mess from sleep, dark circles under his eyes, and he was cradling the half-built Lego car he’d been obsessively sorting for the past week like it was a newborn baby. He shuffled toward the dining table, squinting at the scene before him.

He sat across from Hongjoong, placing the Lego structure down gently, and raised a brow at the open laptop. He leaned in, trying to gauge the noise level, then whispered, “Are you muted?”

Hongjoong nodded sharply, dragging a hand through his own hair, the stress making his scalp itch. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m muted. They’re just reviewing the draft schedules.”

Seonghwa let out a long, dramatic sigh, his shoulders slumping in relief. “Oh, thank fuck. I felt like I was going crazy. I thought they were yelling at me through the screen.”

“Everybody else is asleep?” Hongjoong asked, his voice low.

“Passed out,” Seonghwa mumbled, rubbing his face. “Except for those two idiots.”

Suddenly, a squeal of laughter escaped your lips from the kitchen, loud and bright. San had apparently managed to get flour down your shirt, judging by the way you were squirming.

“Look at those two,” Seonghwa said, his tone half-amused, half-exasperated as he gestured vaguely toward the kitchen with his chin. “They’re going to make a mess that I’ll have to clean up tomorrow.’

“They’re just having fun,” Hongjoong forced himself to say, though the words tasted like ash in his mouth. He glanced back at the laptop, nodding mechanically at the screen.

“Are you listening to me, Hongjoong?” the manager’s voice blasted through the speakers suddenly, making Hongjoong jump.

“Yes!” Hongjoong lied quickly, clicking the mute button just in case. “I’m taking notes. Just… thinking about the run tomorrow.”

“Right,” Seonghwa said, giving him a side-eye that told Hongjoong he wasn’t buying the act for a second. “The run. You sure that’s the only thing you’re running from?”

Hongjoong couldn’t stop the glare that carved itself into his face the second the words left Seonghwa’s mouth.

Paired with that infuriatingly smooth tone—and the teasing grin that followed—it was lethal.

“Shut up,” Hongjoong muttered under his breath, fingers already moving again, typing out the details for their upcoming Asia tour with far more force than necessary.

Dates. Cities. Draft schedules. Anything to keep his hands busy.

Seonghwa only shrugged, unbothered, reaching for a clear LEGO piece that caught the overhead light like glass. He snapped it onto the half-built car with practiced ease. “I didn’t grow up into an adult with you,” he said calmly, “just for you to turn out a coward, Hongjoong.”

That made him pause.

The voices of their managers blurred into background noise as Hongjoong blinked once, then twice, before mechanically typing the proposed rehearsal times. His jaw tightened.

Seonghwa leaned back slightly, gaze drifting past him—to where you and San were still fooling around near the counter, laughing over something stupid and leaving behind the beginnings of a mess. Hongjoong followed his line of sight without meaning to.

And the scowl came instantly.

Seonghwa huffed. “Seriously,” he said, voice lower now. “When the hell are you going to grow some balls and ask my sister out?”

Hongjoong sucked in a sharp breath, shoulders stiffening at the sudden seriousness threaded through Seonghwa’s words. It felt unfair—how calmed he sounded while sitting there, surrounded by LEGO bricks, like he hadn’t just detonated something in Hongjoong’s chest.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hongjoong muttered, eyes glued to the screen as he resumed typing.

“Good grief,” Seonghwa sighed.

He stood, the wooden chair letting out a quiet squeak against the tiled floor. Hongjoong felt him before he saw him—Seonghwa stopping just beside him, close enough that his presence was undeniable.

A hand settled on Hongjoong’s shoulder.

“Don’t mess this up,” Seonghwa said softly, eyes gentle despite everything. “Got it?”

Before Hongjoong could respond, Seonghwa leaned down and reached past him—unmuting the microphone on his laptop.

“Don’t worry,” Seonghwa said smoothly into the meeting, just as the managers were discussing transportation. “I’ll pick him up after the run.”

He gave a small, professional wave to the camera before moving out of the frame, muting the mic again as he turned toward the kitchen. “Okay, both of you—stop that madness,” he said, eyeing the mess. “Because I am not the one cleaning that up.”

You and San paused mid-motion, clearly ready to create another mess, but the look on Seonghwa’s face stopped you cold. You blinked at your brother, who only sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“Now,” Seonghwa continued, already tired, “(Y/N), go use the bathroom in my room. San, use the common bathroom. Yeah?”

Despite the synchronized grumbles that left both your mouths, you both knew better than to piss Seonghwa off when he had that look in his eyes.

San headed for the hallway, but as you walked past the kitchen counter to head toward your brother's room, you caught Hongjoong’s gaze.

He was already looking at you, hand still hovering over the keyboard—and when your eyes met, something in his chest stuttered. He lifted his hand in a small, awkward half-wave.

You couldn’t help but smile back, but it was small—fragile, as if you were scared of what that look meant, or perhaps nervous that you were reading too much into it.

It was small. Careful. Almost shy—like you were scared of being seen.

Then you disappeared down the hallway.

Hongjoong’s fingers felt heavier with every click after that.

Seonghwa glanced back once, worry etching itself into his features as he watched the younger leader sit there, shoulders tense, heart very clearly somewhere else.

Despite the long run—the burn screaming through his calves, the ache settling deep into his thighs, the way his lungs protested with every sharp inhale—Hongjoong couldn’t shake you from his mind.

It pissed him off.

Each step hit the pavement hard, shoes striking in rhythm with his pulse, but his thoughts lagged behind, trailing back to you every single time. Your voice. Your smile. That stupid, careful way you looked at him like he was something fragile.

His breath hitched whenever he lingered on the thought for more than a second, huffs escaping his lips as if his body itself was betraying him.

Focus. Just finish the run.

He forced his eyes forward, jaw tight, but it didn’t matter. You were there anyway—woven into the burn of his muscles, tucked into the space between heartbeats.

Even now.

“Hold still,” Seonghwa said.

Hongjoong dragged a hand through his ginger-dyed hair, brushing sweat out of his eyes just as the flash went off. He scowled immediately, lifting a brow at the older man.

“You done?” he grumbled.

Seonghwa, wrapped snugly in a coat to fend off the evening breeze, stepped closer and handed him his phone. “Enough sulking. Up. Let’s go.”

With a heavy groan, Hongjoong pushed himself off the wooden bench. His legs trembled—not enough to give out, but enough to remind him of the miles he’d just punished them with.

He followed Seonghwa toward the car, steps heavier than usual, unsure if it was the run catching up to him or the way your face kept intruding where it didn’t belong.

He stopped in front of the passenger door, yanked it open, and collapsed into the soft leather seat with another breathy groan. Seonghwa slid into the driver’s seat moments later, humming as he locked the doors and pulled away from the curb.

The radio crackled softly, low static filling the space between them as the city slipped by outside the windows.

Seonghwa glanced at him once.

Then sighed.

“Sometimes,” he said casually, “I wonder what (Y/N) sees in you.”

Hongjoong stiffened.

“What do you mean?” he asked, too quickly.

The car slowed to a stop at a red light. Seonghwa craned his neck to look at him properly this time, eyes sharp and knowing. Hongjoong held his gaze, even as nerves crawled up his spine.

“I’m not stupid, Hongjoong,” Seonghwa said. “Dumb, maybe. Stupid? No. I know exactly what the two of you are doing.”

Hongjoong opened his mouth—

Seonghwa clicked his tongue. “Did I ask you to interrupt me?”

He shut it instantly.

The light turned green.

Seonghwa shifted gears smoothly, the engine revving low as the car rolled forward again. He exhaled through his nose, grip tightening on the wheel—not angry, not rushed, just controlled. The way he always was when something mattered too much to say lightly.

“I’m her brother,” Seonghwa continued, voice steady but edged with something sharp. “I know everything. I know how complicated this is—because of me, right?”

Hongjoong stared straight ahead, jaw tight, the city lights blurring past the windshield. His chest felt too full, like his ribs were pressing inward instead of out.

“It doesn’t have to be,” Seonghwa went on, softer now. “Not if you two decide whether you’re going to let this fall apart… or fix it like normal adults.”

Hongjoong swallowed.

The streets grew familiar. Too familiar.

Corner after corner passed—shops he recognized, streetlights he’d stood under before, sidewalks he’d walked with you more times than he could count. His pulse picked up, loud in his ears, each turn tightening the knot in his chest.

Seonghwa didn’t slow down.

“I’ve spent my whole life protecting her,” he said quietly. “From people who only saw her as something pretty. Something easy. Something temporary.”

His eyes flicked briefly toward Hongjoong before returning to the road.

“And I wouldn’t have let you anywhere near her,” Seonghwa added, blunt. “Not if I didn’t trust you.”

That made Hongjoong’s breath hitch.

“I can’t stop the two of you from loving each other,” Seonghwa continued. “I saw it coming before either of you did. The moment you stumbled out of your studio six years ago looking like some kind of fucking zombie—”

Hongjoong blinked, fingers curling against his thigh.

“—and yet (Y/N) fell in love with you anyway,” Seonghwa finished. “Quietly. Carefully. Like she was afraid of breaking you.”

The words landed heavy.

“She did, didn’t she?” Seonghwa asked, not accusing—just certain.

Hongjoong’s throat closed. He nodded once, barely there.

“I figured,” Seonghwa murmured. “She doesn’t look at people the way she looks at you unless it’s real.”

The car slowed.

Then stopped.

Hongjoong’s heart slammed violently against his ribs as Seonghwa parked in front of the building he knew far too well. The one with the familiar lobby lights. The one where you lived. The one he’d avoided knocking on for far too long.

Seonghwa turned the engine off. The sudden quiet was deafening.

He unlocked the doors.

“Go get her,” he said simply.

Hongjoong froze, hand hovering inches from the handle.

“What if I—” His voice cracked, and he hated it. “What if I mess this up?”

Seonghwa sighed, leaning back in his seat. “You already are,” he said honestly. Then, gentler, “By not trying.”

He turned his head, eyes sharp but warm. Protective—but not controlling.

“She’s not fragile,” Seonghwa added. “And neither are you. Stop treating this like it’s something you have to survive instead of something you’re allowed to want.”

Hongjoong stared at the door, knuckles white.

“I trust you,” Seonghwa said quietly. “Both of you. Don’t make me regret it.”

“And for the record,” he added, “I don’t need to be an uncle this early.”

That earned a shaky huff of a laugh and an eye roll—but it didn’t stop Hongjoong from opening the door.

Cold air rushed in immediately, biting against his damp skin, nipping at his basketball shorts as he stepped out. He sucked in a breath, lungs burning—not from the run this time, but from the weight of what he was about to do.

Behind him, Seonghwa watched. Silent. Trusting. Ready to kill him if he hurt you—but believing he wouldn’t.

The ride to the elevator up to your unit was anything but silent, the hum of the machinery doing little to drown out the storm raging inside Hongjoong.

He could feel the pounding of his heartbeat in his head, a relentless drumbeat echoing the frustration and pent-up desire that had been building for weeks—months, even—ever since Seonghwa’s warnings started chipping away at his patience.

His fingers twitched at his sides, itching to touch you, to claim what he'd been denying himself out of some misguided fear of ruining everything.

But as the doors dinged open on your floor, that fear cracked, splintering under the weight of how desperately he needed you right now.

Hongjoong stood in front of your unit longer than he meant to.

The hallway was quiet, almost too quiet, the hum of distant traffic muffled behind concrete walls. His chest still ached from the run, lungs burning, sweat cooling against his skin as he stared at your door like it might bite him if he got too close. He lifted his hand once—then let it fall.

Coward.

He swallowed, jaw tightening, before knocking anyway.

Not loud. Not confident. Just enough to be heard.

There was a pause. One second. Two.

The door opened.

You stood there with your keys still in your hand, eyes flicking up to meet his. Whatever you’d been about to say died on your lips the moment you saw him—hair still damp, shirt clinging to his frame, eyes dark with something that made your breath hitch.

Hongjoong opened his mouth to say something—anything—to break the silence, but before a single word could escape, you spun around, grabbed the front of his shirt in a tight fist, and yanked him forward.

Your lips crashed into his with a hunger that matched the fire in his veins, the kiss messy and demanding, teeth clashing as you poured all your frustration into it.

He froze for a split second, shock widening his eyes, but then he caved—fuck, did he cave—his hands snapping to your hips, gripping hard enough to bruise as he shoved you back against the door.

The keys clattered to the floor forgotten, the lock clicking open from the force of your bodies. You both stumbled inside, the door slamming shut behind you with a resounding thud that vibrated through the walls of your dimly lit apartment.

His mouth devoured yours, tongue thrusting deep, tasting the remnants of your earlier shared intimacy mixed with the sharp tang of urgency.

“Sweetheart,” he growled against your lips, voice rough and edged with something feral, “you have no idea what you're starting.”

You didn’t care. Your hands fisted tighter in his shirt. “Then show me, Hongjoong,” you breathed, nipping at his lower lip hard enough to draw a hiss from him.

He hauled you up by your thighs, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively as he carried you through the living room, kicking aside a stray shoe in his haste.

The world blurred—couch, coffee table, all obstacles in his path—until he dumped you onto the bed with a bounce that made your breasts heave under your thin top.

Hongjoong loomed over you, eyes dark and stormy, his chest heaving as he tore at your clothes. Your shirt went first, ripped over your head and flung across the room, followed by your skirt hiked up and panties shredded in one swift yank.

The cool air hit your bare skin, but his body was there immediately, pinning you down with his weight, his shorts rough against your inner thighs as he ground his hard cock against your slick folds.

“I’ve been holding back for too fucking long,” he groaned, one hand pinning your wrists above your head while the other shoved his jeans open, freeing his throbbing length. It slapped heavy against your stomach, pre-cum smearing hot across your skin.

“Hongjoong—please,” you whimpered, arching up to meet him, your pussy clenching around nothing, aching for the stretch. He didn't make you wait.

With a guttural groan, he lined up and slammed into you in one brutal thrust, burying himself to the hilt. The burn was exquisite, your walls fluttering around his thick cock as he set a punishing pace—hips snapping forward relentlessly, the bedframe creaking under the force.

Each drive punched the air from your lungs, his balls slapping wetly against your ass, the obscene sounds filling the room alongside your shared moans.

“Fuck, baby—you’re so tight,” he panted, releasing your wrists to grip your hips, angling you higher so he could hit deeper, grinding against that spot inside that made stars burst behind your eyelids.

You clawed at his back, nails digging red lines into his skin, urging him on. “Right there—oh god, Hongjoong, right there!” Your voice broke on a sob, pleasure coiling tight and vicious in your core.

He leaned down, capturing a nipple between his teeth, sucking hard before biting just enough to sting, the pain shooting straight to your clit.

It built fast, too fast—the frustration of stolen moments, the fear he'd pushed down—until you shattered, crying out as your pussy spasmed around him, gushing slick that soaked his cock and dripped down your thighs.

Hongjoong followed with a groan, thrusting erratically as he flooded you with hot cum, his body shuddering above yours. But he didn’t stop. Even as you trembled through the aftershocks, oversensitive and twitching, he kept rocking into you, his spent cock hardening again inside your clenching heat.

“Not done yet, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice husky with need, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing firm circles that made you keen, the overstimulation bordering on too much.

He flipped you onto your stomach without pulling out, the new angle letting him grind deeper as he draped his body over yours, lips brushing your ear.

“I’m not afraid anymore,” he confessed between thrusts, each word punctuated by the slap of skin on skin. “Not of Seonghwa, not of what this means—fuck, baby, I need you like this, always.”

His hand snaked around to your throat, squeezing lightly—not enough to choke, just to feel your pulse racing under his fingers—as he pounded into you from behind, his free hand kneading your ass before delivering a sharp smack that made you yelp and push back against him.

“Joong—harder,” you moaned into the pillows, muffled but desperate, your fingers twisting in the sheets as he obliged, fucking you like he was trying to imprint himself inside you.

The coil wound tighter, your clit throbbing untouched now, every drag of his cock against your walls pushing you higher.

He reached down, fingers pinching and rolling your swollen nub, the dual assault ripping a scream from your throat. “Yes—right there, don’t stop!” You came again, vision whiting out as your body convulsed, milking him until he spilled inside you once more, groaning your name like a prayer.

But the sensitivity hit like a wave, your pussy fluttering painfully around him, tears pricking your eyes from the intensity. He slowed, but only barely, whispering, “Good girl—take it for me,” as he kept moving, drawing out whimpers that bordered on sobs.

Hongjoong pulled out with a wet pop, your mixed release leaking from your abused hole, but he wasn’t giving you a reprieve. He hauled you up onto your knees, facing the headboard, and positioned himself behind you again, sliding back in with a slick ease that made you both moan.

This one was slower at first—soft, torturous drags that let you feel every ridge and vein of his cock stretching you wide—before frustration took over, his pace turning frantic once more.

“Look at you,” he growled, one hand fisting your hair to arch your back, the other slapping your ass in rhythm with his thrusts. “So fucking perfect—mine.”

You braced against the headboard, pushing back to meet him, the burn in your thighs and the ache in your core blending into a haze of need.

“I’m so full,” you gasped, another orgasm building despite the overstimulation, your clit pulsing with every grind.

He reached around, two fingers plunging into your mouth to muffle your cries, making you suck on them like they were his cock. “Cum for me again, baby—let me feel it,” he demanded, and you did, shattering around him with a muffled scream, your walls clamping down so tight he nearly lost it.

He rode you through it, then pulled your hips back flush against him, grinding deep as he came, filling you to overflowing. The excess trickled down your legs, but he stayed buried, rocking gently to prolong the torment, your body quaking uncontrollably.

By now, you were a wreck—limbs heavy, skin slick with sweat, pussy raw and fluttering from the endless assault. Hongjoong sensed it, his touches turning possessive yet careful as he laid you flat on your back, sliding into you one last time with a shared groan.

It was raw, emotional—his forehead pressed to yours, eyes locked as he thrust slow and deep, each movement a confession in itself. “I love you,” he whispered, the words slipping out amid the haze, his hips stuttering as emotion choked him. “Not afraid—never again.”

Tears slipped down your cheeks, mixing with the sweat, as pleasure crested once more.

“I love you too, right there—fuck!” Your final orgasm ripped through you, softer but no less intense, your nails raking down his back as you clenched around him.

He buried his face in your neck, thrusting erratically until he followed, spilling deep with a broken moan, his body collapsing atop yours in exhausted surrender.

The room fell quiet, save for your ragged breaths syncing as the high faded. Hongjoong eased out gently, wincing at your hiss of overstimulation, and scooped you into his arms without a word.

The silence that followed was heavy, thick with the scent of sex and the lingering heat of your bodies. The only sound was the jagged, syncing rhythm of your breaths as the adrenaline finally ebbed, leaving you both trembling.

Hongjoong moved with agonizing slowness, easing his way out of you. Even that small friction drew a sharp, pained hiss from your throat, your nerves still firing from the overstimulation.

He didn’t say a word, but the way he looked at you—eyes dark with a mixture of awe and love—spoke volumes. He scooped you into his arms, your head falling naturally against the crook of his neck. You felt small against him, your limbs heavy and uncooperative as he carried you toward the bathroom.

The transition to the bathroom was a sensory blur. The cool bite of the tiled floor was a sharp shock against your flushed skin as he gently sat you on the edge of the porcelain tub.

You winced, a soft groan escaping your lips as your sore muscles protested the movement. Hongjoong immediately froze, his hand hovering over your cheek.

“I know, I know,” he murmured, his voice a gravelly caress. “I’ve got you, (Y/N). Just breathe for me.”

He turned to the sink, the rush of warm water filling the quiet space. He dampened a plush cloth, testing the temperature against his own wrist before kneeling between your trembling legs.

The sight of him—the composed leader of their group, now reduced to a man completely devoted to your comfort—made your chest ache with more than just physical sensation.

He began to clean you with feather-light strokes. Every touch was soft, wiping away the drying slick and the stark white streaks of his release from your inner thighs and the sensitive folds of your skin.

Each time you flinched or let out a shaky breath, he paused to press a lingering kiss to your knees or the soft skin of your thighs.

“You did so well for me, sweetheart,” he whispered, his thumb tracing the curve of your hip. “So beautiful. I couldn’t stop myself.”

The bath followed, the tub filling with steaming water and a mountain of fragrant bubbles. When he helped you in, your body felt like lead, but the heat of the water was an instant balm to the deep ache in your core.

Hongjoong stripped off his remaining clothes and slid in behind you, his larger frame creating a cradle for your back.

He pulled you flush against his chest, his arms banding around your waist. You let out a long, shuddering sigh, your head falling back onto his shoulder.

His hands, usually so busy and restless, found a slow, rhythmic purpose as they massaged your shoulders. His thumbs dug into the knots of tension near your neck, working them out with a gentle persistence that made you whimper—this time in pure relief.

“Rest now, baby,” he whispered into the shell of your ear, his lips brushing against your damp temple. “We’re okay. I’m not going anywhere.”

He nuzzled into your hair, breathing you in as if you were the only thing keeping him calm.

The water lapped gently against the sides of the tub, a soothing soundtrack to the peace that had finally settled over you both. The fear of Seonghwa’s reaction, the anxiety of their career, the weight of the secrets—it all seemed to dissolve in the steam.

Hongjoong tightened his grip slightly, his nose trailing down to the sensitive skin of your neck where he left a soft, bruising kiss.

⤷ piece taglist — @kaitioo @atinyzenflwr @cyglvr @mingmongminki

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[atinyzenflwr]

Tangled in Desire

genre: smut, fluff

wc: 5,007

summary: What starts as playful, sensual flirting in the kitchen quickly ignites into a night of passion in the bedroom. Morning brings slow, lingering cuddles and soft, teasing kisses, until desire can’t be denied any longer, leading to an intimate, steamy shower together. Every touch, every look, and every whispered word is filled with love, lust, and uncontainable desire

Hindi ka pa man nakakapagpahinga ng maayos nang tuluyan galing school, nandun ka na agad sa kusina, naka-oversized shirt at medyo magulo ang buhok. Tahimik ang bahay, except for the soft footsteps behind you — isa, dalawa, tatlo.

Alam mo na agad.

Unang humawak sa’yo si Hayden, mainit ang palad niya habang dahan-dahan niyang sinasara yung espasyo sa pagitan niyo. Dumiretso siya sa likod mo, braso niyang malaki pumalibot sa bewang mo, baba niya nakadikit sa balikat mo.

“Good evening,” bulong niya, mababa, halos inaakit ka ng boses niya.

Nakatingin siya sa ginagawa mo pero halatang ikaw talaga ang pinapanood niya.

Habang nakayakap siya, dahan-dahan niyang ginuguhit yung daliri niya sa gilid ng baywang mo, parang pinapatahimik ka.

Sumunod namang dumaan si Wade sa likod mo, hawak ang frying pan, pero bawat daan niya, may haplos ng daliri niya sa balakang mo, parang wala lang pero ramdam mo hanggang sa loob ng dibdib mo.

“Evening, y/n,” sabi niya, may ngisi, parang may alam siyang hindi mo alam.

Nagpatuloy siya sa paghalo ng itlog na niluluto niya, pero hindi mo ma-miss ‘yung paraan na tumingin siya sa legs mo pababa, paakyat, tapos ngumiti ulit.

At ayun na.. dumating si Shiloah, naka-tshirt lang na malambot, buhok niya messy, pero yung tingin niya sa’yo… parang ikaw ang paborito niyang view sa buong mundo.

“Darling…” Hinawakan niya ang baba mo, light and gentle, tapos may sinubo siyang grape sa bibig mo na parang wala namang dahilan kundi gusto ka lang niyang pakainin.

Nagkatinginan silang tatlo — at biglang napansin mo yung sabay-sabay na paglapit.

Hayden nasa likod mo, kamay niya nasa hips mo.

Si Wade nasa kanan mo, hawak ang spatula pero mas hawak niya ata ang atensyon mo.

Si Shiloah nasa kaliwa mo, nakayuko, pinupunasan yung labi mo na parang may natira pang grape juice.

“Bakit ang tahimik niyo?” tanong mo, kahit alam mong may nangyayari na.

“Nothing,” sagot ni Hayden, pero ang halik niya sa batok mo nagsabi ng ibang kwento.

“You’re just being cute as always tonight,” dagdag ni Wade, sabay dulas ng kamay niya papunta sa inner thigh mo—mabagal, parang malisyosong walang plano kunwari.

“Darling,” bulong ni Shiloah habang hinahawakan niya ang kamay mo at pinapatong sa dibdib niya, “let us spoil you a little.”

At ayun na.. tatlong kamay, sabay-sabay, lahat may sariling ritmong humahaplos.

Isang kamay sa bewang mo.

Isa pa sa hita mo.

Isa sa likod mo, pinipisil ang bawat parte na gusto nilang ulit-ulitin.

Mainit.

Malambot.

Nakapikit ka na halos, trying to steady your breath habang nakasandal sa counter.

Tapos, isang halik sa leeg mula kay Hayden.

Isang halik sa shoulder mula kay Shiloah.

At isang halik sa pisngi mula kay Wade habang hinahawakang mas mahigpit ang hips mo.

“You’re burning the eggs,” sabi mo, pero mahina, halos ungol na tawanan nila.

“Let them burn,” sagot ni Wade, halos nakadikit na ang lips niya sa tainga mo.

“You’re more important,” dagdag ni Hayden, habang hinahaplos ang ilalim ng shirt mo.

“Darling,” sabi ni Shiloah, hila niya agad ang baba mo para magka-eye contact kayo, “we’re not done with you yet.”

And you stand there, squeezed between three warm bodies, three different touches, three voices teasing you at once—habang breakfast nilang tatlo ay ikaw na pala.

Bumaba yung kamay ni Hayden sa bewang mo, hinila ka nang dahan-dahan palayo sa stove. Hindi marahas… pero may diin na hindi mo kayang tanggihan. Pagharap mo sa kanya, hawak niya magkabila mong balakang, mainit ang mga palad, at tiningnan ka niya na parang may gusto siyang gawin na hindi pang-umaga.

“Hindi ko gusto na nakatayo ka diyan,” sabi niya, boses kalmado pero mabigat. “Dito ka muna.”

At bago ka pa makapagtanong, inangat ka na niya sa counter, mabilis pero maingat, parang alam na alam niya gaano ka kabigat, at kung paano hawakan ang katawan mo.

Pagkaupo mo, automatic na lumapit si Wade sa pagitan ng hita mo, hawak hita mo na parang pagmamay-ari.

“Akala mo makakatakas ka ha,” pabulong niyang sabi, hinahagod ang inner thigh mo gamit ang daliri niya. “Ayaw mong nakapaligid kami sa’yo? Hmm?”

Hindi ka makasagot. Hindi mo rin kailangan.

Sa kanan mo naman, si Shiloah umakyat sa tabi mo, palad niya dumapo sa face mo, thumb tracing your lower lip.

“Darling…” halos hingal yung bulong niya. “Namumula ka.”

Hinawakan niya baba mo, iniangat konti para mapatingala ka sa kanya.

Hinila ni Wade papalapit yung bewang mo.

At si Hayden—nasa likod ni Wade, pero yung tingin niya nasa legs at dibdib mo lang.

Tatlo silang nakatingin sa'yo pero alam mong sabay-sabay silang gutom.

Shiloah leaned in first, kissing you softly—parang inaamoy ka muna, lips brushing yours bago tuluyang dumampi.

Then bago pa lumalim ang halik, hinila ka ni Wade papunta sa kanya, capturing your lips with a firmer, deeper kiss na halos pasok hininga mo.

Narinig mo yung maliit na tawa ni Hayden. "Tingin ko nag-uunahan kayo,” sabi niya, boses mababa, amused pero may selos na konti.

Hayden steps closer, hands sliding sa legs mo, humahawak sa magkabilang hita mo, hinahatak ka pa mas forward sa counter.

Ang lapit nilang tatlo.

Ang init.

Ang bigat ng atmosphere.

“Tingin mo,” bulong ni Hayden, katawan niya halos nakadikit sa’yo, “kaya mong kumain nang maayos pagkatapos nito?”

Wade smirks, kiss landing sa gilid ng tuhod mo.

Shiloah kisses your shoulder, whispering, “Darling… dinner ka namin ngayon.”

At habang sabay-sabay nilang hinahaplos balat mo, halik dito at doon. habang ikaw? napapikit nalang sa libog at sarap.

Nasa counter ka pa rin, legs slightly parted dahil hawak-hawak nila. Pero this time, mas nag-co-coordinate sila—hindi nag-uunahan, hindi nag-aaway.

Parang sabay silang nagdesisyon na pahirapan ka nang dahan-dahan.

Si Wade ang unang gumalaw.

He steps between your thighs, hands sliding sa likod mo, at bago mo namalayan, kinuha niya yung bewang mo at pinihit kang dahan-dahang maupo diretso sa lap niya.

Nakasandal ka sa dibdib niya, legs mo nakabuka sa magkabilang side niya habang naka-upo ka sa hita niya, mainit, malapad, at sobrang lapit sa pagitan ng legs mo.

“Akma ka talaga sa lap ko,” bulong niya, hinahagod yung bare skin sa ilalim ng apron mo. “Parang ginawa talaga katawan mo para dito.”

Bago mo pa ma-process ang init ng haplos niya, may naramdaman kang kamay na umakyat sa likod mo—si Hayden, tumayo sa likuran mo. Nakahawak siya sa baywang mo habang bumubulong sa tenga mo, “Relax your legs, sweetheart. Let him feel you.”

Dumampi ang labi niya sa batok mo, mabagal at matagal, parang kinakabisa ang amoy ng leeg mo bago siya tuluyang humalik nang mas madiin.

Ramdam mo yung kilabot na dumaan pababa ng spine mo.

Si Shiloah naman, parang hindi makatiis. Lumapit siya sa kanan mo, hawak ang panga mo ng magaan, thumb gliding sa cheek mo habang tinititigan ka na parang obra.

“Darling…” bulong niya, boses na parang hinahaplos balat mo. “Look at me.”

Pagtingin mo sa kanya, yumuko siya konti and gave you the softest kiss sa corner ng lips mo. Hindi garapal—pero yung klase ng halik na nagpapabagal ng hininga mo.

Then he moved lower.

Halik sa panga.

Halik sa ilalim ng tenga.

Halik sa gilid ng leeg mo, habang yung kamay niya humahaplos sa collarbone mo.

At sa gitna ng lahat ng yun—

Wade starts rocking you gently on his lap.

Not sexual.

Not rough.

Pero sapat na para maramdaman mo yung init niya sa pagitan ng legs mo, tumatama nang sakto sa hiwa ng puke mo kahit may suot ka.

“Feel that?” tanong ni Wade, bulong niya sa tenga mo habang humihigpit yung grip niya sa bewang mo. “Am I teasing you…? gusto ko marinig kung paano ka umungol.”

Sa likod mo, si Hayden humahalik na sa shoulder mo, isang kamay nasa hita mo, tracing slow circles papasok, papalapit.

Si Shiloah, nasa gilid mo, mouth pressed sa leeg mo, whispering between kisses, “Darling… ang sarap mong tingnan habang inaangkin ka namin ng sabay-sabay.”

Napahawak ka sa balikat ni Wade, head falling back onto Hayden’s chest, habang dalawang lalaki ang humahalik sa leeg at balikat mo—at yung isa, ginigiling ang lap mo nang sobrang dahan-dahan.

You’re melting between them. You’re surrounded.

At wala kang nagawa kundi huminga nang malalim habang nilalaro ka nila sa gitna ng kusina.

Hindi na sila nag-aantayan.

The moment sinabi mong gusto mo ng mas heated, parang may sabay-sabay na nag-click sa tatlo. Lahat ng kilos nila biglang may diin, may gigil, may halong gutom na hindi na nila tinatago.

Naka-upo ka pa rin sa lap ni Wade—pero ngayon, hindi na gentle yung pag-rock niya sa’yo. Hinihila ka niya pababa, inaangat ulit, pinapadulas ka sa tigas niya sa ilalim mo kahit may tela pa kayong dalawa.

“Fuck…” bulong niya sa leeg mo, mainit, madiin. “Feel that, baby? Hindi ko na kaya kapag ganito ka kalambot.”

You gasp, kamay mo napakapit sa balikat niya, pero hindi ka nakapag-react nang bigla kang kinagat ni Hayden sa shoulder—hindi masakit, pero sapat para mapa-ungol ka nang malalim.

“Tangina… ang sarap pakinggan,” sabi ni Hayden, boses halos growl. “Ulitin mo.”

At imbes na matakot ka, hinawakan niya hita mo, pinagbuka ka pa lalo habang si Wade naman tuloy-tuloy kang ginigiya sa lap niya, making you grind harder, deeper, mas direkta sa ari niyang ramdam mo nang sobra.

“Let go,” utos ni Hayden, boses niya mababa, commanding sa tenga mo. “Huwag mong pigilan. Nadadala kami kapag nilalabanan mo.”

At hindi ka na lumalaban.

Sa kanan mo, mas lalo pang naging wild si Shiloah.

“Darling…” bulong niya bago dinila-dilaan yung leeg mo, mabagal pero sinasadyang may pressure.

Then he kissed lower.

Lower pa.

Hanggang umabot siya sa strap ng apron mo na nakasabit sa cleavage mo.

He tugged it with his teeth.

“Binibitin mo kami sa suot mo,” he whispered, voice dark and sweet. “Tanggalin ko?”

Hindi mo pa nasasabi ang sagot—tinaas na ni Wade yung laylayan ng apron mo, hinawakan yung hita mo gamit ang mga daliri niyang sobrang init, hinahagod papunta sa loob ng legs mo, dangerously close, halos sumasayad sa kung saan ka pinaka-sensitibo.

In one smooth movement, hinila ni Shiloah yung apron palayo sa dibdib mo—hindi pa fully off, pero sapat para lumamig ang hangin sa balat mo at uminit lalo ang tingin nilang tatlo.

“Fuck…” si Wade ang unang nagsalita, tingin niya bumagsak sa chest mo. “Look at her. Putang ina.”

Hindi ka na makahinga nang maayos.

Lalong napatigil ang paghinga mo nang biglang kinagat ni Hayden yung batok mo, sabay higpit ng hawak sa bewang mo para idiin ka nang diretso sa lap ni Wade.

You gasp loud.

And Wade groaned, mababa, guttural.

“Do that again. I swear, mapapaikot ko ‘tong buong kusina sa’yo.”

Shiloah lifted your chin, making you look at him habang tatlo silang sabay-sabay may ginagawa sa’yo. “Darling,” he whispered, lips brushing yours, “look at you, basa ka na… at hindi pa kami nagsisimula.”

Sa bawat hininga mo,

sa bawat pag-slide ng katawan mo sa lap ni Wade,

sa bawat kagat at halik sa leeg mo,

parang nawawala ka sa sarili mo.

At sila?

Mas lalong nagiging hayok.

Hindi mo namalayan na nasa kwarto na kayong apat.

Pagdating mo sa pinto ng bedroom, sinarado ni Hayden ang pinto nang madiin, halos padabog, sabay ibinaba ang kamay niya sa batok mo, hinihila ka palapit para halikan nang malalim—yung halik na may kasamang gutom at possessiveness na hindi niya tinatago.

Pero bago siya lumalim, hinila ka ni Wade mula likod. “Hindi ako papayag na mauna ka,” bulong niya kay Hayden, habang tinutulak ka papunta sa kama.

Then he looked at you—dark eyes, heavy breathing. “Come here, baby.”

Pagbagsak mo sa mattress, pumwesto agad si Wade sa ibabaw mo, hands on your thighs, pushing them apart like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Mainit. Mabigat.

At ramdam mong bawat lalim ng paghinga nila.

Shiloah climbed beside you, lips brushing your jaw, voice shaky, “Darling… you look like you’re about to ruin all of us.”

Hinila niya strap ng apron mo pababa, mabagal pero intentional, hanggang sa bumagsak ito sa tabi mo. Sinundan ng halik sa collarbone, then sa gitna ng dibdib mo—hot, slow, worshipping.

Sa kabilang side, umupo si Wade sa gilid mo, kamay niya gumapang sa hita mo pataas, pataas pa—pahinto-hinto lang para maramdaman mo bawat segundo.

“You’re shaking,” bulong niya, halos nakadikit ang lips niya sa tenga mo. “Do you want us this bad?”

Hindi mo nasagot—kasi si Hayden, nasa pagitan na ng legs mo, hinahawakan ang bewang mo, hinihila ka papalapit sa kanya.

At doon mo naramdaman—yung sobrang tigas at init ng tite niya na nakapwesto sakto, hindi pa dumidikit nang direkta, pero sobrang lapit na para mawalan ka ng isip.

Hayden leaned down, forehead against yours. "Open your legs for me,” sabi niya, boses niya mababa, halos punit. “I want to feel all of you.”

And you do.

Automatic.

Instinctive.

Like your body is responding for him.

Hinawakan niya hita mo, binuka pa, tamang-tama para si Wade, mula sa gilid mo, ay sumalo sa kabilang binti mo at ilagay sa hita niya.

“You’re letting us position you,” Wade whispered. “Good girl.”

Nanginginig ka.

At si Shiloah, nakahawak sa magkabilang wrist mo, inilalagay ang mga kamay mo sa ulunan mo, whispering, “Darling… don’t move. Let us take care of everything.”

Hayden shifted forward.

Hinila niya bewang mo.

Your bodies aligned—

skin to skin, heat to heat—

just centimeters away from sliding together.

Hayden’s breath hit your lips.

Wade’s fingers traced your inner thigh, dangerously close.

Shiloah kissed your chest, whispering, voice shaking with desire, “Just say the word, darling… and we’ll give you everything.”

Hindi nagtagal, si Hayden ang unang pumasok sa’yo. Mabagal at malalim ang bawat thrust niya, ramdam mo ang init ng tite niya sa puke mo, habang hawak niya ang balakang mo ng mahigpit. Si Wade ay nakatuon sa mga dede mo—hinihimas, nilalaro, at pinapahid ang labi niya sa utong mo paminsan-minsan—habang si Shiloah ay nagbubulong sa’yo sa harap, pinipisil ang puke mo at humihikbi ka sa sarap.

“Fuck y/n… yakap ka sa akin ng mahigpit,” hiling ni Hayden, at niyakap mo ang leeg niya habang sinusundan ng katawan mo ang bawat galaw. Si Wade ay patuloy na hinahaplos ang dede mo, hinahaplos ang mga kamay niya sa balat mo, habang si Shiloah ay naglalapat ng mga halik sa dibdib mo, dahan-dahang pinipisil ang mga utong mo at sabay sinusupsop ang isa habang ramdam mo ang init ng kamay niya sa puke mo.

Hindi nagtagal, sabay-sabay silang tatlo sa’yo—Shiloah sa likod, Wade sa gilid, at Hayden sa harap. Ang bawat thrust, haplos, at halik ay sabay-sabay na nagpapalibog sa iyo. Ang init ng tite ni Hayden sa puke mo, ang pagkakahimas ni Wade sa dede mo, at ang pagpipisil ni Shiloah sa pinaka-sensitive mong parte ay nagbubuo ng isang sobrang sarap na parang hindi mo kayang huminga nang maayos.

Lumakas ang pagbayo ni Hayden sa'yo, mas mabilis at mas malalim ang bawat thrust. Si Wade ay dumoble sa haplos ng dede mo, sinusupsop paminsan-minsan ang utong mo, habang si Shiloah ay naglalapat ng mas matinding presyon sa puke mo at sabay halik sa mga labi at leeg mo.

Hindi mo na mapigilan ang sarili—ang sabay-sabay nilang galaw, halik, at haplos ay nagdadala sa’yo sa rurok ng sarap. “Gonna cum y/n?” halos paungol na tanong ni Hayden, at sumagot ka sa isang malakas na ungol, ramdam mo ang init sa katawan mo habang nagsisimula ka nang mag-climax.

Si Wade ay tumigil sandali para lalong mastimulate ang dede mo, habang si Shiloah ay sabay na pinipisil at pinapasok ang daliri niya sa loob mo. Ang bawat thrust, haplos, at halik ay sabay na nagpalakas ng orgasm mo—ramdam mo ang init na umaagos sa puke mo, katawan mo, at bawat parte mo na hinawakan nila.

“Shiloah… Hayden… ohhh—” halinghing mo sa sobrang sarap, habang sabay-sabay silang tatlo nagbigay ng pinakaintense na climax sa’yo. Si Hayden ay tumigil ng sandali sa ibabaw mo, si Wade ay nakayakap sa gilid mo habang hinahaplos ang dede mo, at si Shiloah ay yumakap sa harap mo, sabay halik sa labi mo.

Nang magkapalit na sila ng pwesto, pinahiga ka nila ulit sa kama, nakataas ang mga hita mo, at si Wade na ngayon ang nasa ibabaw mo, nakatuon sa puke mo. “Are you ready, y/n?” tanong niya, at ngumiti ka ng mahina, ramdam mo ang init ng kanyang tite sa harap mo. Dahan-dahan niyang ipinapasok ang ulo sa loob mo, at agad kang napasinghap sa sarap.

Si Hayden, nakaluhod sa gilid mo, ay abala pa rin sa dede mo. Pinipisil niya ang mga utong mo, isinusuong paminsan-minsan ang bibig niya para dahan-dahang sungkitin ang isa sa mga utong mo habang pinapabilis ang tibok ng puso mo.

Si Shiloah naman ay nakayakap sa harap mo, dahan-dahang hinahaplos ang puke mo at pinapadama ang init ng kamay niya. “Darling… i wanna see you fall apart habang kinakantot ni Wade,” bulong niya, habang ang mga daliri niya ay dahan-dahang naglalaro sa loob at labas ng puke mo.

Si Wade ay nagsimulang mag-thrust, mabagal at matalim sa simula, ramdam mo ang bawat galaw niya sa loob mo. Ang init ng katawan niya sa ibabaw mo ay halos naglalapit ng init sa bawat bahagi ng katawan mo. Habang tumataas ang ritmo niya, sabay na tumitibok ang puso mo. Habang si Hayden at Shiloah ay patuloy na nagpapaligaya sa’yo sa iba pang paraan.

Napapaungol ka sa bawat kantot niya sa'yo, habang si Wade ay dahan-dahang pinapalalim ang thrust, sabay kiliti at haplos sa dede mo ni Hayden, at sabay halik ni Shiloah sa pinaka-sensitive mong parte. Ang bawat galaw ay nagdadala sa’yo sa sukdulan ng sarap.

Hindi nagtagal, naramdaman mo ang init na umaagos sa loob mo—ang climax mo ay sabay na dumarating sa bawat thrust ni Wade, habang si Hayden ay patuloy sa paglalaro ng dede mo, at si Shiloah ay yumakap sa harap mo, sabay halik sa labi mo. Ang kombinasyon ng init, halik, at haplos ay nagpalakas sa orgasm mo, parang hindi mo na kayang huminga nang maayos.

Pagkatapos ng ilang sandali, humupa ang init. Nakahiga ka sa kama, pagod ngunit satisfied. Si Wade ay nakahiga sa ibabaw mo, humihinga nang mabagal, si Hayden ay nakayakap sa gilid mo habang hinahaplos ang dede mo, at si Shiloah ay nakahiga sa harap mo, dahan-dahang yumayakap at bumubulong, “Darling… ganoon ka namin kamahal.”

---

Kinabukasan ng umaga, gising ka na sa banayad na liwanag ng umaga, bahagyang nakasandal sa unan habang ramdam mo ang init ng katawan ni Hayden na nakayakap sa’yo mula sa likod. “Good morning, y/n,” bulong niya sa tenga mo, halatang malumanay at puno ng init. Yumakap ka ng mahigpit, pinipilit pigilan ang ngiti.

Sa kabilang gilid, naramdaman mo rin si Wade na nakabaluktot sa’yo, hinahaplos ang braso mo at dahan-dahang tinatamasang ang balat mo. “Morning… beautiful,” ani niya, ang tinig niya parang musika sa katahimikan ng kwarto. Napapalingon ka sa kanya, nakangiti, habang ang mga daliri niya’y marahang naglalaro sa balat mo.

Hindi mo pa man natatapos damhin ang dalawa, naririnig mo ang mabagal ngunit malambing na tinig ni Shiloah: “Darling… ang ganda mo ngayon,” sabi niya habang nakayakap sa harapan mo, unti-unting hinahaplos ang buhok at leeg mo.

Dahan-dahan kang niyakap ni Hayden mula sa likod, ang mga labi malapit sa tenga mo, habang si Wade ay hinahalikan ang balikat mo, at si Shiloah naman? marahang humahaplos sa dibdib mo. Lahat sila nakatutok sa’yo, at ramdam mo kung gaano ka nila iniingatan, gaano ka nila kagustong alagaan at mahalin.

Lumipat ka ng bahagya para masilayan ang mga ngiti nila. “Darling… want to shower with us?” bulong ni Shiloah, sabay haplos sa ilalim ng iyong baba. Napangiti ka, at naramdaman mong humahaplos din si Hayden sa baywang mo, si Wade sa hita mo.

Pinikit mo ang mga mata mo, huminga ng malalim, at hinayaan ang init ng kanilang mga kamay, ang lambing at konting kalasingan ng umagang ito, na bumalot sa’yo.

Binuhat ka ni Wade sa banyo. Pagpasok niyo, ang malakas na tunog ng tubig sa shower ay tila sumasabay sa tibok ng puso mo. Ang halik ni Shiloah sa leeg mo, ang kamay ni Wade na dahan-dahang naglalaro sa braso mo—lahat ay mas lalong nagpapainit sa’yo.

“Y/n,” bulong ni Shiloah habang hinahaplos ang dibdib mo, “gusto na kitang maramdaman…” Hinawakan niya ang tite niya, pinapakita ang init at paghahangad niya sa'yo.

Dahan-dahan, hinalikan ka ni Hayden sa labi habang si Wade ay minamasahe ang balakang mo. Ang init ng katawan nila, ang amoy ng sabon sa shower, at ang halik ng tubig sa balat mo—lahat ay nagiging foreplay bago tuluyang pumasok ang tite ni Shiloah sa puke mo. Pinaglaruan niya muna ang puke mo gamit ang dulo, hinahaplos ang boobs mo, habang ang isa niyang kamay ay nakasandal sa pader para hawakan ang sarili niya.

“Ahhh… fuck y/n… binabaliw mo ako, alam mo yun?” malakas na bulong niya, ramdam mo ang pagbilis ng kanyang hininga. Hinila mo siya papalapit, ramdam ang tigas niya sa bawat sagi ng tite niya sa singit mo bago tuluyang pumasok sa loob mo. Ang tunog ng tubig, halik, at mga daing mo—lahat ay naghalo sa isang mainit, intimate, at bastos na ritmo.

Si Hayden at Wade ay nakatingin, hindi lang basta nanonood kundi nakikihalubilo sa bawat galaw mo, bawat pag-ikot ng katawan mo, bawat pagtulak at paghila ni Shiloah. Halos hindi mo na maramdaman ang hangin sa paligid, puro lang kayo, puro init, puro lambing at kalibugan na sabay-sabay na umiikot sa inyo.

“Ahhh… shit, y/n…” si Shiloah, malakas at mabangis, ramdam mo ang bawat pag-ikot ng katawan niya. Si Hayden ay dumulas sa likod mo, hinahaplos ang dibdib mo, habang si Wade ay sumasabay sa halik sa leeg mo, nagpaparamdam na siya rin ay bahagi ng bawat kiliti, bawat paghinga, bawat daing mo.

Hindi mo na kayang pigilan ang sarili, ang sensasyon ay sobrang intense, parang lahat ng init ng katawan niyo ay nagmumula sa loob mo. At sa dulo, ramdam mo ang pag-igting, ang sabayang climax ni Shiloah at ang init ng halik at haplos nina Hayden at Wade sa’yo—ay sabay na nagpapabaliw at nagpapalibog sa'yo ng sobra.

Ramdam mo na ang init sa loob mo, ang bawat pag-ikot ni Shiloah ay mas lalo pang nagpapabilis ng tibok ng puso mo. “Ahhh… y/n… I’m so close…” bulong niya, halos basag ang bawat salita sa init ng katawan at pagbayo niya. Pinilit mong huminga ng malalim, hawak mo si Hayden sa braso, ramdam mo rin ang katas ni Wade na dumikit sa balat mo habang siya ay malapit sa leeg mo, hinahalikan ka sa leeg at hinahaplos ang balakang mo.

Bumilis ang galaw ni Shiloah, sabay-sabay ang hagod at pag-indayog niya sa loob mo. “Ahhh… ohhh… shit!” ungol niya habang ramdam mo ang init ng bawat pagtulak niya sa loob mo. Pumuno ang banyo ng tunog ng tubig, hininga ninyo at mga ungol niyo.

“S-Shiloah… Hayden… Wade… ohhh…!” daing mo, ramdam ang kamay ni Hayden na hinahaplos ang suso mo, at ang labi ni Wade na naglalaro sa leeg mo, sabay sa ritmo ni Shiloah. Hindi mo na mapigilan ang sarili, ang sensasyon ay umaabot sa sukdulan.

“Ahhhhhh! y/n… I’m—!” sigaw ni Shiloah bago sabay-sabay kayong umabot sa climax. Ang init ni Shiloah sa loob mo, ang haplos ni Hayden sa dibdib mo, at ang halik ni Wade sa leeg mo—lahat ay bumagsak sa isang mainit, matinding kulminasyon. Puno ang katawan mo ng katas, ng halik, ng init, ng lamig ng tubig na tumatama sa balat, at ng matinding damdamin na nagmumula sa bawat isa sa inyo.

Pagkatapos ng climax niyo, sumabdal ka sa dibdib ni Shiloah, ramdam ang bawat pulso ng katawan niya sa loob mo. Hinawakan ka ni Hayden, sumandal si Wade sa balikat mo, at sabay kayong huminga ng malalim. Tumayo si Shiloah, hinaplos ang mukha mo at dahan-daha kang niyakap.

“I love you…” sabay-sabay na bulong nila sa'yo.

“I love you too,” sagot mo, ramdam ang init at lambing ng bawat isa. Isang sandali ng katahimikan—tanging ang tunog ng tubig at ang sabayang tibok ng puso niyo ang naririnig bago muling nagyakap, naghalikan, at nagdikit ang mga katawan sa init ng pagmamahalan at pagnanasa na sabay-sabay niyong naramdaman.

[bunbunchie]

daddies’ favourite girl

──〃★───〃★───〃★───〃★───〃★──

──〃★───〃★───〃★───〃★───〃★──

pairing: jonathan x harrison x zavier x reader

genre: soft domestic fluff, slow-burn tension, explicit multi-partner smut.

word count: 6.8k

summary: a quiet weekend night turns soft and domestic when jonathan, harrison, and zavier come home unusually clingy and affectionate toward you. what begins as gentle dinner, cuddles, and warm touches slowly shifts into heated tension none of you bother hiding. and the moment you give them permission, all three stop holding back and take you exactly the way they’ve been craving all night.

—nyctroz boyz alt universe. fictional. characters do not represent the real artists.

—18+ minors please do not interact.

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hindi mo alam bakit ngayong gabi sila ganito ka-sweet.

siguro dahil weekend. siguro dahil ikaw yung nagluto ng dinner. siguro dahil ang gaan ng mood ng condo at amoy garlic butter at bagong labang kumot sa paligid. pero from the moment dumating sila sa pintuan, zavier na may hawak na flowers, harrison na may dala pang dessert, at si jonathan na may bitbit na wine parang may invisible na lambing na sabay-sabay nilang dinala sa loob.

“baby, we’re home,” sigaw ni zavier, nakangiti, parang aso na nakita ka after a long day.

lumapit ka. “buti kompleto kayo.”

“of course,” sabi ni harrison, tinanggal coat niya saka isinabit. lumapit siya sa’yo, hinawakan cheeks mo gently, tapos hinalikan ka sa noo nang walang pagmamadali. yung tipo ng halik na nagpapagaan ng dibdib mo. “namiss ka namin.”

“harrison, two hours lang kayo umalis—”

“still,” sabat ni jonathan na dumiretso sa kusina para ilapag wine, “that’s two hours too long.”

napailing ka pero hindi mo maitago yung kilig. from behind, biglang yakap si zavier, arms niya malaki, mainit, mahigpit pero comforting. nagdikit katawan n’yong dalawa.

“hi,” bulong niya sa tenga mo.

“hi,” sagot mo, natawa konti dahil sa kiliti ng breath niya sa batok mo.

“smells good,” dagdag niya, inaamoy buhok mo na parang adik sa scent mo. “bagong ligo?”

“yeah.”

“good. gusto namin yan.”

masyado silang clingy, pero hindi ka umaangal.

you sat between them harrison sa kanan mo, jonathan sa kaliwa, zavier across the table pero naka-sandalan at nakatitig lang sa’yo para bang ikaw lang yung ilaw sa kwarto.

masayahin ang usapan. kwento nila tungkol sa araw nila, tawa nila, yung subtle na paghawak ni jonathan sa wrist mo habang nagbubukas siya ng wine bottle, yung paghahatid ni harrison sa’yo ng extra rice kahit hindi ka humihingi, yung pag-subo ni zavier ng dessert sa’yo with “buka.”

soft. warm. domestic.

pero somewhere between those small touches, ramdam mong umiinit yung atmosphere.

harrison’s fingers brushing your knee a little too long.

jonathan’s gaze lingering sa neckline ng suot mong shirt.

zavier biting his straw habang nakatitig sa lips mo.

hindi intentional. hindi rin hidden. pero hindi rin nila ina-advance… not yet.

habang naglilinis ka ng table, sila nag-aayos ng kitchen. teamwork. ang tahimik, pero may rhythm yung galaw nila. si jonathan nagsasabon ng plates, si harrison nagbabanlaw, si zavier nagpu-punas ng counter. parang tatlong lalaking sobra kang mahal at sobrang sanay na sa presensya mo.

“y/n,” tawag ni zavier.

“hm?”

“sit down. we’ll finish.”

“kaya ko naman—”

“hindi,” sagot ni jonathan without looking back. “you cooked. we’ll do the rest.”

lumapit si harrison, hawak wet hands niya sa pwet ng pants niya para hindi ka madumihan, tapos inabot braso mo gently. “come on, sweetheart. pahinga ka muna.”

at somehow, you felt cared for in a way na hindi sensual, just safe.

nag-choose ka ng movie pero more on background noise lang siya.

ang mas mahalaga: yung tatlong lalaking nakapaligid sa’yo sa couch.

nakahiga ka sa gitna nila, legs mo nakapatong sa lap ni jonathan, ulo mo nakadantay sa balikat ni harrison, at si zavier nakahawak sa sakong mo na parang paborito niyang hawakan yung mga paa mo para hindi ka malamigan.

you felt like a princess. no, like their girl.

“comfortable?” tanong ni harrison, rubbing your shoulder gently.

“yeah,” sagot mo, ramdam mo yung pagrelax ng buong katawan mo. “super.”

“good,” sabi ni jonathan, hinahaplos dahan-dahan ang binti mo, taas-baba, slow, warm. “stay here.”

dumungaw si zavier, naka-smirk. “y/n, you look sleepy.”

“medyo.”

nilapit niya kamay niya sa cheeks mo, hinaplos using backs of his fingers. “you’re cute.”

blush.

pero bago ka pa makapagsalita, dahan-dahan ka nang pinipisil ni harrison sa waist, parang checking if okay ka.

soft. warm. affectionate.

pero habang tumatagal, yung simpleng lambing… nagiging something else.

yung haplos ni jonathan paakyat nang paakyat.

yung kamay ni harrison sa waist mo nagiging mas firm.

yung tingin ni zavier sa lips mo nagiging mas gutom.

hanggang napansin mong hindi na sila nanonood ng movie.

sila tatlo… nanonood lang ng *ikaw*.

“you okay there, baby?” tanong ni jonathan, boses mababa, parang may ibang meaning.

“ye—yeah. why?”

ngumiti siya nang konti. “parang ang tahimik mo.”

si harrison sumiksik ng konti mas malapit sa’yo, dibdib niya dumidikit sa likod mo. “she’s shy.”

“bakit naman magiging shy ang baby namin?” tanong ni zavier, since nasa paanan ka niya, umusog konti, inangat legs mo sa lap niya, hinawakan ang ankle mo and massaged it lightly para bang pagod ka.

ang init na ng hangin. parang may magnet sa pagitan ninyong apat, hindi nagmamadali, pero nararamdaman mo yung slow pull papunta sa isang bagay na hindi na fluff.

mahina mong bulong, “guys… bakit ganyan kayo makatingin?”

jonathan leaned forward, pinag-arms niya sa upuan sa likod mo.

“do you want the truth, baby?”

nagtango ka.

“we’ve been holding back all night.”

you swallowed.

si harrison humalik sa leeg mo. mabagal. parang inaamoy muna bago tikman.

“ang lambot mo kasi,” bulong niya.

si zavier sumalo sa paa mo, hinaplos inch by inch paakyat. “and you’re so warm tonight.”

jonathan traced the inside of your knee with a single finger. “and we’re trying to be good.”

pero yung paraan ng paghaplos niya sa’yo… hindi pang good.

“pero kung ayaw mo nang good…” sabay sabat ni zavier, leaning down para halikan tuhod mo, “…just say the word.”

napalunok ka. “what word?”

sabay-sabay silang ngumiti.

jonathan: “come here.”

harrison: “mahal.”

zavier: “please.”

you shivered.

“so,” harrison whispered habang nakahawak sa waist mo, “ano, sweetheart?”

you whispered back, breathless:

“please.”

si jonathan unang kumilos.

hinawakan niya legs mo, inangat ka from their laps, dinala sa gitna ng couch habang nakatitig lang sa’yo like he’s starving.

“arms up.”

sumunod ka.

hinubad niya shirt mo slowly, parang regalo.

hinawakan ni harrison ang mukha mo, hinaplos gamit dalawang kamay, tapos hinalikan ka, slow, deep, full of tongue, full of warmth, hanggang mapakapit ka sa shoulders niya.

then zavier pulled your legs apart, settling between them, palms resting sa thighs mo, warm, heavy.

and suddenly, lahat ng sweetness kanina… naging hunger.

“pretty girl,” bulong ni zavier habang hinahalik-halikan inner thighs mo, “kanina pa namin gusto gawin ‘to.”

“kanina ka pa namin gustong kantutin,” dagdag ni harrison sa tenga mo, voice niya rougher now.

“and now,” sabi ni jonathan, hinila panty mo at tinapon kung saan, “we’re done waiting.”

zavier leaned down, at yung unang dampi ng mainit niyang dila sa pussy mo ay sobrang mabagal at sobrang intimate na napa-“ahh—fuck” ka agad.

harrison cupped your breasts gently, thumbs flicking your nipples habang hinahalikan shoulders mo. “soft pa lang kami niyan.”

jonathan spread your knees more, pinananood bawat pag-ikot ng dila ni zavier sa clit mo. “look how wet you are.”

hindi mo kayang mag-react kasi dila ni zavier dumulas mula baba paakyat sa gitna, tapos sinipsip clit mo nang deep na “mmmh—fuck—zavier—!”

natawa siya against your skin, vibration straight sa clit mo. “good girl.”

then jonathan knelt sa harap mo, chest sa chest mo. “open your mouth, baby.”

binuka mo, at hinawakan niya baba mo habang hinalikan ka nang malalim. tongue, teeth, breath mixing with your whimpers habang si zavier tuloy-tuloy kang kinakain like you’re his last meal.

“shit—i’m—I’m close—”

harrison leaned to your ear. “cum for us. go on, baby.”

tap—sumabog ka, hips mo gumiling, “ahhh—ahh—fuck—!” legs mo nanginginig habang hawak nila para hindi ka matumba.

pero hindi pa sila tapos.

jonathan sat down sa couch and pulled you onto his lap facing him.

“ride me.”

harrison held your chin. “do you want him inside you, baby?”

“mhmm—p-please—”

zavier spread your entrance with two fingers, coating you with your own slick. “look how ready she is.”

jonathan lifted your hips and slowly, painfully slowly, ibinaba ka sa kanya. nag-slide siya papasok—thick, deep, stretching you open.

“shit—shit—Jonathan—”

hinawakan niya waist mo firmly. “there you go.”

habang bumababa ka, harrison cupped your breasts, hinahalikan collarbone mo. zavier watched every inch disappearing inside you, licking his lips.

napasandal ka sa chest ni jonathan, legs mo nanginginig habang sagad na siya inside.

“good girl,” bulong niya.

“galing ng baby natin,” dagdag ni harrison.

“ang sikip mo,” dagdag ni zavier.

then Jonathan started moving your hips.

slow. controlled. deep.

each thrust napapa-“nghh—ah—fuck—” ka at each sound mo mas nagiging gutom sila.

pero nung nagsimula kang tumirik mata, harrison slapped your thigh gently. “look at us.”

bumukas mata mo.

at nakita mo sila lahat—hungry. proud. obsessed.

habang binabayo ka ni jonathan, hinila ka ni zavier forward by your chin.

“open,” utos niya.

binuka mo lips mo, at pinasok niya cock niya sa mouth mo, slow at first, letting you adjust sa haba at taba.

“good girl,” bulong niya habang hawak buhok mo.

your body was being used in two places at once, pussy full, mouth full, pero sobrang pleasurable to the point of tears.

jonathan groaned, thrusting harder. “fuck, she’s clenching.”

zavier moaned din. “her mouth too.”

harrison knelt behind you at hinawakan hips mo, pushing you deeper sa parehong dicks. “ang ganda mo tingnan.”

you were drooling, moaning, shaking.

until. “cum again,” utos ni jonathan.

hindi mo napigilan. literal na sumirit ka sa lap niya, “ahhhh—fuck—!” habang si zavier nilabas cock niya at nagwipe ng drool sa chin mo.

jonathan held your hips down as he exploded inside you. “shit—baby—take it all—”

mainit. puno. messy.

but before you could breathe, harrison lifted you, pinahiga ka, and slid into you easily dahil punong-puno ka ng tamod.

“my turn.”

naglaplap sila ni jonathan habang pinapanood ka ni harrison na tirahin nang mas mabilis, mas brute, mas hungry.

“shit—harrison—nghh—!”

“yeah, baby,” bulong niya, “gonna fill you too.”

zavier knelt sa gilid mo at fininger yung tamod na lumalabas, pinapakain sa’yo. “open.”

sinunod mo, sucking his fingers clean.

“good girl.”

harrison groaned, thrusting faster, grunting against your neck until—

“fuck—here—baby—take it—”

and he filled you second.

you were shaking, messy, dripping.

and zavier lifted your hips gently. “one more, baby. last.”

siya yung pinaka-slow, pinaka-intimate. hinawakan niya mukha mo, hinaplos cheeks mo, forehead against yours.

“look at me habang kinakain kita sa loob.”

at nung pumasok siya, heat, stretch, fullness, sobrang intimate na napaluha ka sa sobrang sarap.

“shh,” bulong niya, wiping your tears, “i got you.”

he fucked you slow. deep. meaningful. bawat sandal niya sa’yo sinasabayan ng halik sa lips mo.

you came again, body shaking violently habang yakap ka niya tight.

and he whispered: “i’m filling you, baby.”

at nung pinuno ka niya, sunod-sunod, warm, thick, deep, you felt claimed, loved, ruined.

nilinis ka nila. binalot sa kumot. nilagyan ng warm towel sa legs mo. pinakain ng strawberries. inalagaan bawat hinga mo.

jonathan massaging your scalp.

harrison rubbing your back.

zavier kissing your forehead.

“our girl,” bulong ni jonathan.

“our mahal,” bulong ni harrison.

“our favourite,” bulong ni zavier.

tanghali ka na nagising.

hindi mo agad na-process kung nasaan ka hanggang napansin mo yung tatlong magkakaibang braso nakapatong sa’yo parang weighted blanket pero mas mainit, mas mabango, mas nakakalito kung paano ka nakakagalaw pa.

jonathan nasa gilid mo sa kanan, naka-forehead sa balikat mo, humihinga nang malalim, hair niya konting gulo.

harrison nasa likod mo, braso niya naka-wrap sa waist mo like a vice, legs niya naka-hook sa legs mo, parang hindi ka niya papayagang bumangon.

zavier nasa bandang hita mo, nakadapa sa kumot, ulo nakapatong sa thigh mo na parang unan, at dahil gumalaw ka ng konti, nag-murmur pa siya, “mmm… don’t move yet, y/n…”

ang bigat nila. ang lambing. ang sarap ng pakiramdam.

“good morning,” bulong ni jonathan nang hindi pa binubuksan ang mata, hinahaplos ka sa ribs using the back of his knuckles.

“good… good morning,” sagot mo, paos.

“voice niya,” narinig mong sabi ni harrison sa batok mo, groggy at mababa. “hoarse. cute.”

“cute?” sabat ni zavier habang humihikab sa thighs mo. “more like… very obviously fucked into oblivion last night.”

he looked up at you with that lazy morning smirk.

“which was, by the way, hot as hell.”

napapikit ka in embarrassment.

jonathan lifted his head, pinisil ka sa chin gamit dalawang daliri para tumingin ka sa kanya. “hey. don’t hide. we loved every second.”

napalunok ka.

“kahit yung… um… yung sobrang messy ko?”

“especially that,” sagot ni harrison agad, walang hesitation, you could feel the smile sa lips niya habang nakadikit siya sa neck mo. “our girl gets messy for us? that’s sexy.”

zavier rubbed circles on your thigh. “and you were so good, y/n.”

nakahinga ka nang malalim, body mo slowly nagre-relax.

pero gusto mo tumayo.

well… you *tried*.

pero tatlong pares ng kamay ang sabay-sabay humila sa’yo pabalik.

“nope,” sabi ni jonathan.

“saan ka pupunta?” tanong ni harrison habang niyayakap ka mas mahigpit.

“stay here,” reklamo ni zavier, bumalik sa pag-sandwich ng hita mo gamit ang mukha niya. “ang lambot mo pa.”

“guys… magto-toothbrush lang ako—”

pero sabay silang nagsabi:

“mamaya na.”

napatawa ka, pero may init sa loob mo na hindi mo in-expect na babalik agad pagkatapos ng kagabi.

nag-uunahan silang tatlo sa pag-comfort sa’yo.

si harrison ang pinaka-gigil sa cuddles, braso niya parang naka-lock sa’yo.

si jonathan naman sinusuklay buhok mo habang nakatingin sa’yo na parang pagod at sobrang satisfied.

si zavier? busy sa paghalik-halik sa legs mo, parang hindi siya makaget-over.

“you hungry?” tanong ni jonathan.

“um… a bit.”

“don’t move,” sagot niyang may smirk, tumayo siya at pumunta sa kitchen—shirtless, malaki shoulders, broad back. that alone… weakness mo.

habang nagluluto si jonathan, si harrison dumidikit pa lalo sa’yo, kini-kiss yung shoulder, collarbone, neck mo na parang automatic reflex.

“harrison…” bulong mo, kinikiliti.

“hmm?”

“ticklish.”

“sorry,” pero hindi talaga sorry. lalo siyang humalik.

zavier lifted his head from your thighs. “ang cute mo pag naiinis.”

“hindi ako—”

pero bigla siyang yumuko at hinalikan ka sa inner thigh, malapit pero hindi touching your pussy.

mainit. mabagal. soft.

nag-freeze ka.

harrison stopped kissing your neck. “zave.”

“what?” sagot niya, kunwari-innocent. “ang lambot ng skin niya dito.”

nakatingin siya sa’yo habang dinudutdot yung area with soft smiles. “aba, nagba-blush ka.”

nagdala si jonathan ng food sa bed: eggs, toast, bacon, fruits, coffee.

“eat,” sabi niya, feeding you first with a fork.

pero habang sinusubo mo pa lang, naramdaman mong si harrison sumiksik ulit sa likod mo, kamay niya dumadausdos sa side mo, pa-slide sa tummy.

“you okay?” tanong niya softly.

“yeah… just… sore.”

“where?” tanong ni zavier, halatang triggered.

you looked at him. “everywhere.”

they smirked.

jonathan leaned closer. “good.”

after breakfast, nag-aayos ka na sana ng blanket pero si harrison hinawakan pulso mo.

“come here,” sabi niya simply, hinila ka sa lap niya.

nakaupo ka sa legs niya na parang maliit na stuffed toy. si jonathan at zavier nakaupo sa harap, nakatingin sa’yo, quiet, intense.

“guys?” tanong mo.

zavier leaned forward first, hinaplos base ng throat mo. “ang ganda mo pag bagong gising.”

jonathan slipped a hand sa inner thigh mo, slow, deliberate, parang hindi niya alam kung feather touch ba o full palm. “mas okay tingnan pag namumula.”

“jonathan…” bulong mo. hindi mo na alam kung warning or begging.

harrison’s lips brushed your shoulder. “you sure you want us to stop?”

nag-hold breath ka.

eyes mo lumipat kay zavier, nakangiti, beast-in-waiting.

kay jonathan, cool, calm, pero dark yung tingin.

kay harrison, warmest but also pinaka-predatory sa tatlo.

they were waiting. and you whispered: “don’t stop.”

the moment you said the words, si jonathan ang unang gumalaw.

hinila niya blanket off your body, revealing yung oversized shirt na suot mo lang. hinimas niya tummy mo slowly paakyat, paakyat, hanggang umabot sa ilalim ng dibdib mo.

“lift your arms.” ginawa mo.

tinanggal niya shirt mo nang dahan-dahan, like he wanted to savor every inch na lumalabas.

harrison leaned forward at hinalikan spine mo, paakyat sa batok mo. “so pretty.”

zavier spread your legs across harrison’s lap, thumb tracing your inner thigh. “ang init mo.”

jonathan knelt between your legs, hinaplos puki mo nang wala pang pressure, just feeling.

“wet ka na agad?” tanong niya, voice mababa.

harrison laughed softly behind you. “she likes mornings.”

“or she likes us,” dagdag ni zavier, leaning closer to kiss your knee.

jonathan dragged two fingers sa slit mo, slow, teasing at yung tunog na “shhhk” from your wetness made them all groan.

“fuck, baby,” bulong ni jonathan, “you’re soaked.”

hinila ka bigla ni harrison paatras sa chest niya, nipples mo tumama sa warm skin niya, and the sensation made you arch.

napahawak ka sa tuhod ni jonathan. “please…”

“please what?” tanong ni zavier habang hinahalikan mo yung side ng knee mo, papunta sa mas sensitive areas.

“touch me,” bulong mo.

jonathan didn’t waste a second.

dinilat niya puki mo gamit dalawang daliri, then sinubo niya clit mo, slow, gentle suck, parang morning kiss.

“shit—jonathan—”

harrison held your hips down. “take it.”

zavier kissed your ankle then worked his way up. “be good.”

jonathan kept licking, slow circles, soft laps, brushes ng dila na sobrang precise. hindi rough, hindi fast. pure teasing.

hanggang nag-iinit buong katawan mo kahit fresh pa yung hangin sa kwarto.

“nghh—don’t stop—don’t—”

pero tumigil siya. umangat, punong-puno lips niya ng shine from your wetness.

“i want you to ride me first.”

harrison shifted you forward. “turn around, sweetheart.”

ginawa mo. zavier leaned back, watching.

jonathan sat down, cock niya already hard, thick, heavy.

nilagay niya kamay niya sa hips mo. “slow.”

hinawakan niya waist mo at pinaupo ka sa cock niya, tip pa lang, tumirik na mata mo.

“jonathan… oh god—”

“shhh. use your legs.”

dahan-dahan kang bumaba, inch by inch, every stretch sending sparks sa buong katawan mo.

harrison guided your back. “that’s it, baby.”

at pag sagad ka na kay jonathan, nag-exhale silang lahat parang sila yung nabusog.

pero ikaw? nanginig.

“good girl,” sambit ni jonathan, hawak hips mo. “now move.”

gumiling ka, mabagal, small motions, pero dahil morning, dahil warm sila, mas intense yung bawat slide.

jonathan leaned back. “look at her. she’s shaking.”

zavier bit his lip. “fuck, she’s tight.”

harrison kissed the back of your neck. “keep going.”

you rode him slow. messy. whimpering.

hanggang biglang sinubuan ka ni zavier ng halik, deep, wet, needy, habang harrison nilalaro utong mo mula sa likod.

hindi ka makahinga. hindi ka makapili sa kanila.

hanggang napasigaw ka, “i’m—i’m close—”

“cum,” utos ni jonathan, pulling your hips down faster.

and you did, hard, legs shaking, nails digging sa shoulders niya.

pero bago ka pa bumagsak, harrison pulled you off him, binuhat ka, nilagay ka on your back sa pillows.

“ako naman.”

hinawakan niya legs mo at pumasok sa’yo in one smooth, deep thrust na nagpa-“ahh—fuck—harrison—” sa’yo.

he fucked you slow, deep, parang ginagawa kang sacred thing.

jonathan held your hand.

zavier kissed your thighs.

and when harrison came inside you, warm, filling, he whispered sa leeg mo,

“good morning, mahal”

after the slow, intimate morning sex, halos tulog ka ulit between them. your body was somewhere between bliss and pagod, floating sa soft pillows, and the faint warmth ng tatlong lalaking sobrang clingy sayo ngayong araw.

si jonathan bumalik sa paggawa ng late brunch sa kitchen, shirtless pa rin, hair tied low, kamay laging basa sa sink.

si harrison nakahiga sa tabi mo, knuckles tracing the curve of your hip, parang nagdo-drawing ng invisible patterns.

si zavier nakaupo sa gilid ng bed, parang bantay, hawak niyo wrist mo with his thumb brushing your pulse.

ang tahimik. ang lambing. ang bango ng kwarto, amoy linen, amoy sabon, amoy katawan nila.

“y/n,” tawag ni zavier, leaning down para halik ka sa forehead. “you okay?”

“yeah,” sagot mo, voice mo pa rin soft from earlier. “sobrang… relaxed.”

“relaxed?” harrison smirked, leaning closer, voice low. “hmm. that can be fixed.”

napailing ka, pero bago ka pa ma-react, pumasok si jonathan sa doorway, may hawak na tray ng food.

“breakfast part two,” sabi niya.

pero yung expression niya, nakatingin sa tatlo sa inyo may konting amusement, tapos slight na selos sa mukha.

not angry.

not cold.

just… territorial.

“jonathan?” tanong mo, curious.

lumapit siya, nilapag tray, tapos hinawakan chin mo gently. “you look tired.”

“good tired.”

“hm,” ngumiti siya pero half-laugh, half-jealous tone. “i leave you with them for five minutes and you’re already melting.”

“jealous ka ba?” tanong ni zavier, smug.

“no,” sagot ni jonathan agad.

“hm?” sabi ni harrison, raising a brow. “sure ka?”

jonathan clicked his tongue. “stop. i'm no—”

pero napatingin ulit siya sa’yo, napansin yung kiss marks sa leeg mo, sa collarbone, yung faint na redness sa boobs mo.

and yeah… he *was* jealous. but not in a bad way.

you reached for his wrist, hinihila siya papunta sa bed. “jonathan… come here.”

nag-sigh siya, pero sumunod, naupo sa tabi mo at hinawakan waist mo, pulling you onto his lap.

“daddy?” bulong mo. he stared at you, calm pero burning inside, and whispered,

“ako munang tatlo next time.”

harrison laughed. “ayun! selos.”

“i’m not jealous,” ulit ni jonathan, pero hinila ka niya closer, parang i-claim ka.

“you are,” bulong mo softly.

“maybe,” sagot niya, eyes locked on yours.

his thumb brushed your lower lip. your breath hitched. the room warmed.

zavier whistled. “shit. here we go.”

nagpakain muna sila sa’yo. literal.

jonathan pinapakain ka ng toast, harrison nagpa-fork feed ng bacon, si zavier naglalagay ng strawberries sa labi mo like you’re the center of their universe.

sobrang soft. sobrang loving. parang hindi sila yung three men who wrecked you just hours ago.

after kumain, they let you rest on jonathan’s lap, head mo nakadapa sa thigh niya, habang si harrison nag-massage ng legs mo, and si zavier nag-aayos ng buhok mo gamit daliri niya.

“we should shower,” sabi ni jonathan, rubbing your back. “you’re still sticky.”

“sabay?” tanong mo.

“of course,” sagot nila *sabay-sabay*.

the bathroom filled with steam and the scent of eucalyptus. malaking shower, enough for the four of you, glass walls, foggy, warm.

they undressed you gently.

harrison sa top. zavier sa hips. jonathan sa panties mo.

sobrang slow. sobrang sensual. hindi pa sexual, but full of meaning.

when the water rained down, warm and soft, napakapit ka sa chest ni harrison.

“cold?” tanong niya.

“no… just… overwhelmed.”

zavier came behind you, arms wrapping around your waist. “overwhelmed in a bad way?”

“no,” sagot mo, leaning into him.

jonathan poured shampoo into his hands, nilagay sa buhok mo, massaging your scalp. “good. because we’re not stopping.”

napapikit ka at napa-ungol softly sa pressure ng massage niya.

and that’s when it happened. harrison kissed your shoulder. zavier kissed your neck from behind. jonathan pulled your head gently up so he could kiss your forehead.

that combination? holy. legs mo nanghina.

“hey, hey,” sabi ni harrison, hawak agad sa waist mo. “don’t fall.”

“s-sorry… too much…”

“too much what?” tanong ni zavier, fingers tracing your ribs.

“too much… affection.”

“then let us handle you,” sabi ni jonathan, voice mababa.

and the *switch* flipped.

mga kamay nila halos sabay-sabay naging mas intentional.

jonathan massaging your scalp turned into tracing your jaw.

zavier’s hands on your waist slid lower.

harrison’s lips on your shoulder went lower, wetter, hungrier.

“guys… wait…”

“why?” bulong ni harrison sa ear mo.

“you don’t want this?” tanong ni zavier, fingers brushing your inner thigh.

“tell us to stop,” sabi ni jonathan, thumb stroking your cheek.

but you didn’t. instead, tumingin ka kay jonathan at mahina mong sinabi: “don’t stop.”

the second time today. and this time, walang naghinay-hinay.

jonathan pulled you by the jaw and kissed you first, deep, wet, tongue sliding into your mouth habang water dumadaloy sa inyong dalawa.

zavier turned you around, hinila ka papunta sa chest niya, hands gripping your hips.

harrison knelt down sa harap mo, water dripping off his hair and shoulders. he looked up at you with dark eyes.

“open your legs, mahal.”

dahan-dahan mong binuka, shaky, and he spread you wider with both hands.

zavier held you from behind. “good girl.”

jonathan held your chin so your eyes stayed open. “watch him.”

and then, harrison leaned forward and licked your pussy, in one slow, long, deep, stroke.

“fuck—harrison—ah—”

“shh,” sabi ni jonathan, kissing your neck. “take it.”

harrison ate you out like he was worshipping, not rushing, not sloppy. just deep, rhythmic, devastating strokes.

zavier sucked on your neck, leaving marks.

jonathan held your chest, massaging your breasts under the water, thumb teasing your nipples.

lahat sila sabay-sabay, controlled, coordinated.

“i’m—i’m close—shit—”

“then cum,” sabi ni jonathan.

“cum for him,” bulong ni zavier.

and harrison sucked your clit—hard, perfect pressure—

and you broke.

“ahhh—f—fuck—!”

you came so hard napa-kapit ka kay jonathan at zavier, legs shaking habang si harrison tumayo, wiping his mouth, smirking.

“good girl.”

jonathan turned you around, pinasandal ka sa tiles, water cascading down your chest.

“my turn.”

he slid inside you in one deep thrust, warm water running down both bodies, making everything slipperier, messier.

“nghh—jonathan—”

he pinned your wrists above your head. “look at me.”

zavier kissed your throat habang hawak legs mo.

harrison sucked on your tits, wet and warm from the shower.

jonathan fucked you slow but *deep*, each thrust hitting your sensitive, overworked spot from earlier.

“she’s shaking,” sabi ni zavier.

“she’s sensitive,” bulong ni harrison.

“i like her sensitive,” sagot ni jonathan, thrusting harder, hips slamming wetly. “cum again.”

“hindi ko—m-masakit na—nghh—”

“no, y/n,” sabi ni zavier, thumb rubbing circles on your hip, “that’s pleasure.”

jonathan kissed you hard. “cum.”

and you did, second time, louder, messier, legs giving out.

jonathan held you through it, whispering, “good girl. so good.”

zavier lifted you carefully, pinabalot legs mo sa waist niya.

“my turn.”

he slid inside you slowly, deeper than the other two because of the angle. your moan broke into a whimper.

“z-zavier—oh god—”

he kissed you forehead, soft, gentle, contrasting the deep strokes.

harrison held your thighs.

jonathan kissed your shoulder.

zavier was slow. deliberate. emotionally brutal.

“look at me,” sabi niya, cupping your face.

you did.

“i love fucking you like this.”

you whimpered, holding onto his shoulders.

“cum with me,” bulong niya.

and with a final deep thrust, he spilled inside you while you came around him, warm water, warm bodies, warm breath mixing together.

he whispered against your cheek, “you’re ours, y/n.”

nilagay ka nila sa fluffy towel.

binuhat ka papunta sa bed.

nilagay hot compress sa legs mo.

pinunasan ka ng lotion.

pinainom ka ng tubig.

and all three whispered, “good girl.”

pagbalik niyo sa kama, halos lumubog ka sa lambot ng comforter. ang init ng katawan mo, ang bigat ng talukap mo, at ang tatlo na parang tatlong magkakaibang version ng comfort sabay-sabay sumunod.

zavier ang unang humiga sa tabi mo, naka-half on his side, braso niya sumalo sa bewang mo na parang automatic reflex.

si harrison, dumapa sa bandang paanan mo, ulo niya nakapatong sa hita mo, eyes half-closed, parang kumukuha lang ng heat mo.

si jonathan, dahan-dahan kang tinabihan sa kaliwa, kamay niya dumudulas sa ribs mo in slow, steady strokes.

ang tahimik. hindi heavy. hindi sexual. just warm.

“are you comfortable? ” tanong ni jonathan, voice mababa pero hindi commanding, more like concerned.

“super,” sagot mo, eyes fluttering closed.

“good,” sagot niya, fingertips brushing your hairline. “you look tired.”

“hoy,” sabat ni harrison, umaangat ng konti para makita mukha mo, “hindi ‘yung pang-bad tired, ah. yung… satisfied.”

nag-smirk si zavier mula sa likod mo. “definitely satisfied.”

napatingin ka sa kanilang tatlo. “you guys are unbearable.”

“cute mo pag nagsisinungaling,” sagot ni zavier, hinahalikan ka sa temple, soft, feather-light.

pagod ka pa pero hindi ka makatulog dahil sa init ng tatlong katawan sa paligid mo.

unti-unti silang nagkakamot sa atensyon mo.

zavier kept humming against your cheek.

harrison kept tracing patterns sa legs mo.

jonathan kept stroking your arm like he was grounding you.

hanggang napansin mo, nag-aagawan sila sa kung sino una mong hahawakan.

hinawakan mo wrist ni jonathan at biglang umangat si harrison.

“ah. gets. siya nanaman.”

“hm?” jonathan raised a brow. “problem?”

“wala,” sagot ni harrison pero halatang meron. “sige, hawakan mo siya.”

“harrison,” sabi mo softly.

“no, no,” he said, lying back dramatically sa kama, hand across his forehead, parang bida sa soap opera. “wag niyo ko isipin. ako na lang yung pambansang dakilang third wheel.”

napailing ka. “you’re ridiculous.”

nag-lean si zavier, hinila ang unan ni harrison. “stop being dramatic.”

but harrison looked at you again, softer this time.

“just wanted a little attention, mahal.”

you reached a hand toward him, he perked up like a big dog.

“hala. sana pala sinabi mo agad,” sabi mo, pulling him closer by the shirt collar.

his expression melted instantly.

ngiti niya, boyish, sobrang rare. “yun lang pala eh.”

jonathan muttered, “child,” pero may ngiti rin.

zavier whispered against your ear, “he really likes you.”

nag-init ang dibdib mo.

gumalaw si jonathan, humiga behind you, chest pressing to your back, hand niya naka-wrap sa tummy mo.

si zavier nasa harap mo, forehead resting against yours.

si harrison nakadapa across your legs with one arm draped over your waist.

parang tatlong warm blankets, tatlong heartbeat, tatlong presensiyang nagsasama in perfect comfort.

you felt safe. sobrang safe. and then, quietly, si jonathan nagsalita.

“you’re good for us.” napatingin ka sa kanya.

“what?” tanong mo softly.

he brushed your cheek. “you make us calmer.”

“balanced,” dagdag ni zavier, gently tugging a strand of your hair.

harrison lifted his head slightly. “happy.”

napasinghot ka, unexpectedly touched. “guys…”

jonathan leaned closer, forehead to the back of your shoulder. “i’m serious. we were not like this before.”

si zavier nag-nod. “we didn’t sleep this peacefully in years.”

“we didn’t laugh this much,” sabi ni harrison.

“we didn’t feel this—” napahinto si jonathan, parang nag-iisip ng tamang salita, “—this grounded.”

you swallowed.

“and you think that’s because of me?”

jonathan’s thumb stroked your waist.

“yes.”

quiet followed. pero hindi empty. soft. warm. full of unspoken things.

harrison traced small circles sa tuhod mo.

zavier stared at your lips for a second too long.

jonathan pressed a light kiss to your shoulder, like he didn’t want to make noise.

none of them pushed anything physical.

but the air. hummed. slow heat. soft anticipation. no rush.

parang lahat sila may sariling paraan ng pag-express ng affection and they were giving it all at once.

“you’re staring,” bulong mo kay jonathan.

“yes.”

“bakit?”

“gusto kita tignan.”

nakuryente buong spine mo.

zavier brushed your nose with his. “we’re not doing anything.”

“hmm,” sabi mo, teasing, “parang may balak kayo.”

“maybe,” sagot ni harrison, smirk forming habang nakayakap pa rin sa legs mo.

“but not yet,” sabi ni jonathan, voice gentle but firm. “you need rest.”

“ayaw mo pa?” tanong ni zavier, halos pabulong.

“i didn’t say that,” sagot ni jonathan, half-smirk.

“she’s tired,” bulong ni harrison, “pero nakangiti.”

and you were. you whispered, barely audible: “i like being with you.”

and the three of them froze.

zavier swallowed first.

harrison’s grip on your waist tightened.

jonathan leaned his forehead against your back, silently breathing in your words.

then jonathan said, voice low,

“then stay.”

harrison lifted himself enough to kiss your knee softly. “stay with us.”

zavier cupped your cheek. “we want you here.”

your heart pounded.

but you said it, honest, soft, real.

“i want to.”

and their reaction? worth everything.

jonathan nuzzled your shoulder, subtle smile.

harrison actually grinned, full, bright, unguarded.

zavier closed his eyes and exhaled like relief.

you’ve never felt more wanted.

no lust. no demand. just connection.

three sets of arms pulling you closer.

three heartbeats syncing with yours.

three men whispering “goodnight, baby” kahit hapon pa lang.

and you? you drifted off to sleep, safe, warm, held, and completely theirs.

[bunbunchie]

daddies’ favourite girl

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pairing: jonathan x harrison x zavier x reader

genre: soft domestic fluff, slow-burn tension, explicit multi-partner smut.

word count: 5.5k

summary: a quiet weekend night turns soft and domestic when jonathan, harrison, and zavier come home unusually clingy and affectionate toward you. what begins as gentle dinner, cuddles, and warm touches slowly shifts into heated tension none of you bother hiding. and the moment you give them permission, all three stop holding back and take you exactly the way they’ve been craving all night.

warnings: dom jonathan, dom harrison, dom zavier, sub reader, unprotected sex, pussy eating, rough oral, face fucking, hair pulling, choking (light), breast/ass/pussy slaps, size kink, tummy bulge, fingering, messy creampies, double attention, deep penetration, overstimulation, squirting, cum eating, recording implied, praise kink, dirty talk, manhandling, lots of positions, aftercare.

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hindi mo alam bakit ngayong gabi sila ganito ka-sweet.

siguro dahil weekend. siguro dahil ikaw yung nagluto ng dinner. siguro dahil ang gaan ng mood ng bahay at amoy garlic butter at bagong labang kumot sa paligid. pero from the moment dumating sila sa pintuan, zavier na may hawak na flowers, harrison na may dala pang dessert, at si jonathan na may bitbit na wine parang may invisible na lambing na sabay-sabay nilang dinala sa loob.

“y/n, we’re home,” sigaw ni zavier, nakangiti, parang aso na nakita ka after a long day.

lumapit ka. “buti kompleto kayo.”

“of course,” sabi ni harrison, tinanggal coat niya saka isinabit. lumapit siya sa’yo, hinawakan cheeks mo gently, tapos hinalikan ka sa noo nang walang pagmamadali. yung tipo ng halik na nagpapagaan ng dibdib mo. “namiss ka namin.”

“harrison, two hours lang kayo umalis—”

“still,” sabat ni jonathan na dumiretso sa kusina para ilapag wine, “that’s two hours too long.”

napailing ka pero hindi mo maitago yung kilig. from behind, biglang yakap si zavier, arms niya malaki, mainit, mahigpit pero comforting. nagdikit katawan n’yong dalawa.

“hi,” bulong niya sa tenga mo.

“hi,” sagot mo, natawa konti dahil sa kiliti ng breath niya sa batok mo.

“smells good,” dagdag niya, inaamoy buhok mo na parang adik sa scent mo. “bagong ligo?”

“yeah.”

“good. gusto namin yan.”

masyado silang clingy, pero hindi ka umaangal.

———

you sat between them, harrison sa kanan mo, jonathan sa kaliwa, zavier across the table pero naka-sandalan at nakatitig lang sa’yo para bang ikaw lang yung ilaw sa kwarto.

masayahin ang usapan. kwento nila tungkol sa araw nila, tawa nila, yung subtle na paghawak ni jonathan sa wrist mo habang nagbubukas siya ng wine bottle, yung paghahatid ni harrison sa’yo ng extra rice kahit hindi ka humihingi, yung pag-subo ni zavier ng dessert sa’yo with “buka.”

soft. warm. domestic.

pero somewhere between those small touches, ramdam mong umiinit yung atmosphere.

harrison’s fingers brushing your knee a little too long.

jonathan’s gaze lingering sa neckline ng suot mong shirt.

zavier biting his straw habang nakatitig sa lips mo.

hindi intentional. hindi rin hidden. pero hindi rin nila ina-advance… not yet.

———

habang naglilinis ka ng table, sila nag-aayos ng kitchen. teamwork. ang tahimik, pero may rhythm yung galaw nila. si jonathan nagsasabon ng plates, si harrison nagbabanlaw, si zavier nagpu-punas ng counter. parang tatlong lalaking sobra kang mahal at sobrang sanay na sa presensya mo.

“y/n,” tawag ni zavier.

“hm?”

“sit down. we’ll finish.”

“kaya ko naman—”

“no,” sagot ni jonathan without looking back. “you cooked. we’ll do the rest.”

lumapit si harrison, hawak wet hands niya sa pwet ng pants niya para hindi ka madumihan, tapos inabot braso mo gently. “come on, mahal. pahinga ka muna.”

at somehow, you felt cared for in a way na hindi sensual just safe.

———

namili ka ng movie pero more on background noise lang siya.

ang mas mahalaga. yung tatlong lalaking nakapaligid sa’yo sa couch.

nakahiga ka sa gitna nila, legs mo nakapatong sa lap ni jonathan, ulo mo nakadantay sa balikat ni harrison, at si zavier nakahawak sa sakong mo na parang paborito niyang hawakan yung mga paa mo para hindi ka malamigan.

you felt like a princess. no, like their girl.

“comfortable?” tanong ni harrison, rubbing your shoulder gently.

“yeah,” sagot mo, ramdam mo yung pagrelax ng buong katawan mo. “super.”

“good,” sabi ni jonathan, hinahaplos dahan-dahan ang binti mo, taas-baba, slow, warm. “stay here.”

dumungaw si zavier, naka-smirk. “y/n, you look sleepy.”

“medyo.”

nilapit niya kamay niya sa cheeks mo, hinaplos using backs of his fingers. “you’re cute.”

blush.

pero bago ka pa makapagsalita, dahan-dahan ka nang pinipisil ni harrison sa waist, parang checking if okay ka.

soft. warm. affectionate.

pero habang tumatagal, yung simpleng lambing… nagiging something else.

yung haplos ni jonathan paakyat nang paakyat.

yung kamay ni harrison sa waist mo nagiging mas firm.

yung tingin ni zavier sa lips mo nagiging mas gutom.

hanggang napansin mong hindi na sila nanonood ng movie.

sila tatlo… nanonood lang ng ikaw.

———

“you okay there, baby?” tanong ni jonathan, boses mababa, parang may ibang meaning.

“ye—yeah. why?”

ngumiti siya nang konti. “you seem so quiet.”

si harrison sumiksik ng konti mas malapit sa’yo, dibdib niya dumidikit sa likod mo. “she’s shy.”

“bakit naman magiging shy ang y/n namin?” tanong ni zavier, since nasa paanan ka niya, umusog konti, inangat legs mo sa lap niya, hinawakan ang ankle mo and massaged it lightly para bang pagod ka.

ang init na ng hangin. parang may magnet sa pagitan ninyong apat, hindi nagmamadali, pero nararamdaman mo yung slow pull papunta sa isang bagay na hindi na fluff.

mahina mong bulong, “guys… bakit ganyan kayo makatingin?”

ang init na ng hangin. parang may magnet sa pagitan ninyong apat, hindi nagmamadali, pero nararamdaman mo yung slow pull papunta sa isang bagay na hindi na fluff.

mahina mong bulong, “guys… bakit ganyan kayo makatingin?”

jonathan leaned forward, pinag-arms niya sa upuan sa likod mo.

“do you want the truth, sweetheart?”

nagtango ka.

“we’ve been holding back all night.”

you swallowed.

si harrison humalik sa leeg mo. mabagal. parang inaamoy muna bago tikman.

“ang lambot mo kasi,” bulong niya.

si zavier sumalo sa paa mo, hinaplos inch by inch paakyat. “and you’re so warm tonight.”

jonathan traced the inside of your knee with a single finger. “and we’re trying to be good.”

pero yung paraan ng paghaplos niya sa’yo… hindi pang good.

“pero kung ayaw mo nang good…” sabay sabat ni zavier, leaning down para halikan tuhod mo, “…just say the word.”

napalunok ka. “what word?”

sabay-sabay silang ngumiti.

jonathan: “come here.”

harrison: “mahal.”

zavier: “please.”

you shivered.

“so,” harrison whispered habang nakahawak sa waist mo, “ano, mahal?”

you whispered back, breathless.

“please.”

———

si jonathan unang kumilos.

hinawakan niya legs mo, inangat ka from their laps, dinala sa gitna ng couch habang nakatitig lang sa’yo like he’s starving.

“arms up.”

sumunod ka.

hinubad niya shirt mo slowly, parang regalo.

hinawakan ni harrison ang mukha mo, hinaplos gamit dalawang kamay, tapos hinalikan ka, slow, deep, full of tongue, full of warmth, hanggang mapakapit ka sa shoulders niya.

then zavier pulled your legs apart, settling between them, palms resting sa thighs mo, warm, heavy.

and suddenly, lahat ng sweetness kanina… naging hunger.

“pretty girl,” bulong ni zavier habang hinahalik-halikan inner thighs mo, “kanina pa namin gusto gawin ‘to.”

“kanina ka pa namin gustong kantutin,” dagdag ni harrison sa tenga mo, voice niya rougher now.

“and now,” sabi ni jonathan, hinila panty mo at tinapon kung saan, “we’re done waiting.”

———

zavier leaned down, at yung unang dampi ng mainit niyang dila sa pussy mo ay sobrang mabagal at sobrang intimate na napa-“ahh—fuck” ka agad.

harrison cupped your breasts gently, thumbs flicking your nipples habang hinahalikan shoulders mo. “soft pa lang kami niyan.”

jonathan spread your knees more, pinananood bawat pag-ikot ng dila ni zavier sa clit mo. “look how wet you are.”

hindi mo kayang mag-react kasi dila ni zavier dumulas mula baba paakyat sa gitna, tapos sinipsip clit mo nang deep na “mmmh—fuck—zavier—!”

natawa siya against your skin, vibration straight sa clit mo. “good girl.”

then jonathan knelt sa harap mo, chest sa chest mo. “open your mouth, baby.”

binuka mo, at hinawakan niya baba mo habang hinalikan ka nang malalim. tongue, teeth, breath mixing with your whimpers habang si zavier tuloy-tuloy kang kinakain like you’re his last meal.

“shit—i’m—I’m close—”

harrison leaned to your ear. “cum for us. go on, mahal.”

tap—sumabog ka, hips mo gumiling, “ahhh—ahh—fuck—!” legs mo nanginginig habang hawak nila para hindi ka matumba.

pero hindi pa sila tapos.

jonathan sat down sa couch and pulled you onto his lap facing him.

“ride me.”

harrison held your chin. “do you want him inside you, mahal?”

“mhmm—p-please—”

zavier spread your entrance with two fingers, coating you with your own slick. “look how ready she is.”

jonathan lifted your hips and slowly, painfully slowly, ibinaba ka sa kanya. nag-slide siya papasok—thick, deep, stretching you open.

“shit—shit—jonathan—”

hinawakan niya waist mo firmly. “there you go.”

habang bumababa ka, harrison cupped your breasts, hinahalikan collarbone mo. zavier watched every inch disappearing inside you, licking his lips.

napasandal ka sa chest ni jonathan, legs mo nanginginig habang sagad na siya inside.

“good girl,” bulong niya.

“galing ng mahal natin,” dagdag ni harrison.

“ang sikip mo,” dagdag ni zavier.

then jonathan started moving your hips.

slow. controlled. deep.

each thrust napapa-“nghh—ah—fuck—” ka at each sound mo mas nagiging gutom sila.

pero nung nagsimula kang tumirik mata, harrison slapped your thigh gently. “look at us.”

bumukas mata mo.

at nakita mo sila lahat, hungry. proud. obsessed.

habang binabayo ka ni jonathan, hinila ka ni zavier forward by your chin.

“open,” utos niya.

binuka mo lips mo, at pinasok niya cock niya sa mouth mo, slow at first, letting you adjust sa haba at taba.

“good girl,” bulong niya habang hawak buhok mo.

your body was being used in two places at once, pussy full, mouth full, pero sobrang pleasurable to the point of tears.

jonathan groaned, thrusting harder. “fuck—she’s clenching.”

zavier moaned din. “her mouth too.”

harrison knelt behind you at hinawakan hips mo, pushing you deeper sa parehong dicks. “ang ganda mo tingnan.”

you were drooling, moaning, shaking.

until... “cum again,” utos ni jonathan.

hindi mo napigilan. literal na sumirit ka sa lap niya, “ahhhh—fuck—!” habang si zavier nilabas cock niya at nagwipe ng drool sa chin mo.

jonathan held your hips down as he exploded inside you. “shit—baby—take it all—”

mainit. puno. messy.

but before you could breathe, harrison lifted you, pinahiga ka, and slid into you easily dahil punong-puno ka ng tamod.

“my turn.”

naglaplap sila ni jonathan habang pinapanood ka ni harrison na tirahin nang mas mabilis, mas brute, mas hungry.

“shit—harrison—nghh—!”

“yeah, mahal,” bulong niya, “gonna fill you too.”

zavier knelt sa gilid mo at fininger yung tamod na lumalabas, pinapakain sa’yo. “open.”

sinunod mo, sucking his fingers clean.

“good girl.”

harrison groaned, thrusting faster, grunting against your neck until—

“fuck—here—mahal—take it—”

and he filled you second.

you were shaking, messy, dripping.

and zavier lifted your hips gently. “one more, baby. last.”

siya yung pinaka-slow, pinaka-intimate. hinawakan niya mukha mo, hinaplos cheeks mo, forehead against yours.

“look at me habang kinakain kita sa loob.”

at nung pumasok siya, heat, stretch, fullness, sobrang intimate na napaluha ka sa sobrang sarap.

“shh,” bulong niya, wiping your tears, “i got you.”

he fucked you slow. deep. meaningful. bawat sandal niya sa’yo sinasabayan ng halik sa lips mo.

you came again, body shaking violently habang yakap ka niya tight.

“i’m filling you, baby.”

at nung pinuno ka niya, sunod-sunod, warm, thick, deep, you felt claimed, loved, ruined.

———

nilinis ka nila. binalot sa kumot. nilagyan ng warm towel sa legs mo. pinakain ng strawberries. inalagaan bawat hinga mo.

jonathan massaging your scalp.

harrison rubbing your back.

zavier kissing your forehead.

“our girl,” bulong ni jonathan.

“our mahal,” bulong ni harrison.

“our favourite,” bulong ni zavier.

———

tanghali ka na nagising.

hindi mo agad na-process kung nasaan ka hanggang napansin mo yung tatlong magkakaibang braso nakapatong sa’yo, parang weighted blanket pero mas mainit, mas mabango, mas nakakalito kung paano ka nakakagalaw pa.

jonathan nasa gilid mo sa kanan, naka-forehead sa balikat mo, humihinga nang malalim, hair niya konting gulo.

harrison nasa likod mo, braso niya naka-wrap sa waist mo like a vice, legs niya naka-hook sa legs mo, parang hindi ka niya papayagang bumangon.

zavier nasa bandang hita mo, nakadapa sa kumot, ulo nakapatong sa thigh mo na parang unan, at dahil gumalaw ka ng konti, nag-murmur pa siya, “mmm… don’t move yet, y/n…”

ang bigat nila. ang lambing. ang sarap ng pakiramdam.

“good morning,” bulong ni jonathan nang hindi pa binubuksan ang mata, hinahaplos ka sa ribs using the back of his knuckles.

“good… good morning,” sagot mo, paos.

“voice niya,” narinig mong sabi ni harrison sa batok mo, groggy at mababa. “hoarse. cute.”

“cute?” sabat ni zavier habang humihikab sa thighs mo. “more like… very obviously fucked into oblivion last night.”

he looked up at you with that lazy morning smirk.

“which was, by the way, hot as hell.”

napapikit ka in embarrassment.

jonathan lifted his head, pinisil ka sa chin gamit dalawang daliri para tumingin ka sa kanya. “hey. don’t hide. we loved every second.”

napalunok ka.

“kahit yung… um… yung sobrang messy ko?”

“especially that,” sagot ni harrison agad, walang hesitation, you could feel the smile sa lips niya habang nakadikit siya sa neck mo. “our girl gets messy for us? that’s sexy.”

zavier rubbed circles on your thigh. “and you were so good, y/n.”

nakahinga ka nang malalim, body mo slowly nagre-relax.

pero gusto mo tumayo.

well… you tried.

pero tatlong pares ng kamay ang sabay-sabay humila sa’yo pabalik.

“nope,” sabi ni jonathan.

“saan ka pupunta?” tanong ni harrison habang niyayakap ka mas mahigpit.

“stay here,” reklamo ni zavier, bumalik sa pag-sandwich ng hita mo gamit ang mukha niya. “ang lambot mo pa.”

“guys… magto-toothbrush lang ako—”

pero sabay silang nagsabi: “mamaya na.”

napatawa ka, pero may init sa loob mo na hindi mo in-expect na babalik agad pagkatapos ng kagabi.

———

nag-uunahan silang tatlo sa pag-comfort sa’yo.

si harrison ang pinaka-gigil sa cuddles, braso niya parang naka-lock sa’yo.

si jonathan naman sinusuklay buhok mo habang nakatingin sa’yo na parang pagod at sobrang satisfied.

si zavier? busy sa paghalik-halik sa legs mo, parang hindi siya makaget-over.

“you hungry?” tanong ni jonathan.

“um… a bit.”

“don’t move,” sagot niyang may smirk, tumayo siya at pumunta sa kitchen, shirtless, malaki shoulders, broad back. that alone… weakness mo.

habang nagluluto si jonathan, si harrison dumidikit pa lalo sa’yo, kini-kiss yung shoulder, collarbone, neck mo na parang automatic reflex.

“harrison…” bulong mo, kinikiliti.

“hmm?”

“ticklish.”

“sorry,” pero hindi talaga sorry. lalo siyang humalik.

zavier lifted his head from your thighs. “ang cute mo pag naiinis.”

“hindi ako—”

pero bigla siyang yumuko at hinalikan ka sa inner thigh, malapit pero hindi touching your pussy.

mainit. mabagal. soft.

nag-freeze ka.

harrison stopped kissing your neck. “zave.”

“what?” sagot niya, kunwari-innocent. “ang lambot ng skin niya dito.”

nakatingin siya sa’yo habang dinudutdot yung area with soft smiles. “aba, nagba-blush ka.”

nagdala si jonathan ng food sa bed: eggs, toast, bacon, fruits, coffee.

“eat,” sabi niya, feeding you first with a fork.

pero habang sinusubo mo pa lang, naramdaman mong si harrison sumiksik ulit sa likod mo, kamay niya dumadausdos sa side mo, pa-slide sa tummy.

“you okay?” tanong niya softly.

“yeah… just… sore.”

“where?” tanong ni zavier, halatang triggered.

you looked at him. “everywhere.”

they smirked.

jonathan leaned closer. “good.”

after breakfast, nag-aayos ka na sana ng blanket pero si harrison hinawakan pulso mo.

“come here,” sabi niya simply, hinila ka sa lap niya.

nakaupo ka sa legs niya na parang maliit na stuffed toy. si jonathan at zavier nakaupo sa harap, nakatingin sa’yo, quiet, intense.

“guys?” tanong mo.

zavier leaned forward first, hinaplos base ng throat mo. “ang ganda mo pag bagong gising.”

jonathan slipped a hand sa inner thigh mo, slow, deliberate, parang hindi niya alam kung feather touch ba o full palm. “mas okay tingnan pag namumula.”

“jonathan…” bulong mo. hindi mo na alam kung warning or begging.

“jonathan…” bulong mo. hindi mo na alam kung warning or begging.

harrison’s lips brushed your shoulder. “you sure you want us to stop?”

nag-hold breath ka.

eyes mo lumipat kay zavier, nakangiti, beast-in-waiting.

kay jonathan, cool, calm, pero dark yung tingin.

kay harrison, warmest but also pinaka-predatory sa tatlo.

they were waiting. and you whispered. “don’t stop.”

the moment you said the words, si jonathan ang unang gumalaw.

hinila niya blanket off your body, revealing yung oversized shirt na suot mo lang. hinimas niya tummy mo slowly paakyat, paakyat, hanggang umabot sa ilalim ng dibdib mo.

“lift your arms.” ginawa mo.

tinanggal niya shirt mo nang dahan-dahan, like he wanted to savor every inch na lumalabas.

harrison leaned forward at hinalikan spine mo, paakyat sa batok mo. “so pretty.”

zavier spread your legs across harrison’s lap, thumb tracing your inner thigh. “ang init mo.”

jonathan knelt between your legs, hinaplos puke mo nang wala pang pressure, just feeling.

“you’re already wet?” tanong niya, voice mababa.

harrison laughed softly behind you. “she likes mornings.”

“or she likes us,” dagdag ni zavier, leaning closer to kiss your knee.

jonathan dragged two fingers sa slit mo, slow, teasing at yung tunog na “shhhk” from your wetness made them all groan.

“fuck, baby,” bulong ni jonathan, “you’re soaked.”

hinila ka bigla ni harrison paatras sa chest niya, nipples mo tumama sa warm skin niya, and the sensation made you arch.

napahawak ka sa tuhod ni jonathan. “please…”

“please what?” tanong ni zavier habang hinahalikan mo yung side ng knee mo, papunta sa mas sensitive areas.

“touch me,” bulong mo.

jonathan didn’t waste a second.

dinilat niya puke mo gamit dalawang daliri, then sinubo niya clit mo, slow, gentle suck, parang morning kiss.

“shit—jonathan—”

harrison held your hips down. “take it.”

zavier kissed your ankle then worked his way up. “be good.”

jonathan kept licking, slow circles, soft laps, brushes ng dila na sobrang precise. hindi rough, hindi fast. pure teasing.

hanggang nag-iinit buong katawan mo kahit fresh pa yung hangin sa kwarto.

“nghh—don’t stop—don’t—”

pero tumigil siya. umangat, punong-puno lips niya ng shine from your wetness.

“i want you to ride me first.”

harrison shifted you forward. “turn around, mahal.”

ginawa mo. zavier leaned back, watching.

jonathan sat down, cock niya already hard, thick, heavy.

nilagay niya kamay niya sa hips mo. “slow.”

hinawakan niya waist mo at pinaupo ka sa cock niya, tip pa lang, tumirik na mata mo.

“jonathan… oh god—”

“shhh. use your legs.”

dahan-dahan kang bumaba, inch by inch, every stretch sending sparks sa buong katawan mo.

harrison guided your back. “that’s it, mahal.”

at pag sagad ka na kay jonathan, nag-exhale silang lahat parang sila yung nabusog.

pero ikaw? nanginig.

“good girl,” sambit ni jonathan, hawak hips mo. “now move.”

gumiling ka, mabagal, small motions, pero dahil morning, dahil warm sila, mas intense yung bawat slide.

jonathan leaned back. “look at her. she’s shaking.”

zavier bit his lip. “fuck, she’s tight.”

harrison kissed the back of your neck. “keep going.”

you rode him slow. messy. whimpering.

hanggang biglang sinubuan ka ni zavier ng halik, deep, wet, needy, habang harrison nilalaro utong mo mula sa likod.

hindi ka makahinga. hindi ka makapili sa kanila.

hanggang napasigaw ka, “i’m—I’m close—”

“cum,” utos ni jonathan, pulling your hips down faster.

and you did, hard, legs shaking, nails digging sa shoulders niya.

pero bago ka pa bumagsak, harrison pulled you off him, binuhat ka, nilagay ka on your back sa pillows.

“ako naman.”

hinawakan niya legs mo at pumasok sa’yo in one smooth, deep thrust na nagpa-“ahh—fuck—harrison—” sa’yo.

he fucked you slow, deep, parang ginagawa kang sacred thing.

jonathan held your hand.

zavier kissed your thighs.

and when harrison came inside you, warm, filling, he whispered sa leeg mo,

“good morning, mahal.”

———

after the slow, intimate morning sex, halos tulog ka ulit between them. your body was somewhere between bliss and pagod, floating sa soft pillows, and the faint warmth ng tatlong lalaking sobrang clingy sayo ngayong araw.

si jonathan bumalik sa paggawa ng late brunch sa kitchen, shirtless pa rin, hair tied low, kamay laging basa sa sink.

si harrison nakahiga sa tabi mo, knuckles tracing the curve of your hip, parang nagdo-drawing ng invisible patterns.

si zavier nakaupo sa gilid ng bed, parang bantay, hawak niyo wrist mo with his thumb brushing your pulse.

ang tahimik. ang lambing. ang bango ng kwarto, amoy linen, amoy sabon, amoy katawan nila.

“y/n,” tawag ni zavier, leaning down para halik ka sa forehead. “you okay?”

“yeah,” sagot mo, voice mo pa rin soft from earlier. “sobrang… relaxed.”

“relaxed?” harrison smirked, leaning closer, voice low. “hmm. that can be fixed.”

napailing ka, pero bago ka pa ma-react, pumasok si jonathan sa doorway, may hawak na tray ng food.

“breakfast part two,” sabi niya.

pero yung expression niya, nakatingin sa tatlo sa inyo may konting amusement, tapos… slight na selos sa mukha.

not angry. not cold. just… territorial.

“jonathan?” tanong mo, curious.

lumapit siya, nilapag tray, tapos hinawakan chin mo gently. “you look tired.”

“good tired.”

“hm,” ngumiti siya pero half-laugh, half-jealous tone. “i leave you with them for five minutes and you’re already melting.”

“jealous ka ba?” tanong ni zavier, smug.

“no,” sagot ni jonathan agad.

“hm?” sabi ni harrison, raising a brow. “sure ka?”

jonathan clicked his tongue. “stop. I'm no—”

pero napatingin ulit siya sa’yo, napansin yung kiss marks sa leeg mo, sa collarbone, yung faint na redness sa boobs mo.

and yeah… he *was* jealous. but not in a bad way.

you reached for his wrist, hinihila siya papunta sa bed. “jonathan… come here.”

nag-sigh siya, pero sumunod, naupo sa tabi mo at hinawakan waist mo, pulling you onto his lap.

“jonathan?” bulong mo.

he stared at you, calm pero burning inside, and whispered,

“let me be the one for all three next time.”

harrison laughed. “ayun! selos.”

“i’m not jealous,” ulit ni jonathan, pero hinila ka niya closer, parang i-claim ka.

“you are,” bulong mo softly.

“maybe,” sagot niya, eyes locked on yours.

his thumb brushed your lower lip. your breath hitched. the room warmed.

zavier whistled. “shit. here we go.”

nagpakain muna sila sa’yo. literal.

jonathan pinapakain ka ng toast, harrison nagpa-fork feed ng bacon, si zavier naglalagay ng strawberries sa labi mo like you’re the center of their universe.

sobrang soft. sobrang loving. parang hindi sila yung three men who wrecked you just hours ago.

after kumain, they let you rest on jonathan’s lap, head mo nakadapa sa thigh niya, habang si harrison nag-massage ng legs mo, and si zavier nag-aayos ng buhok mo gamit daliri niya.

“we should shower,” sabi ni jonathan, rubbing your back. “you’re still sticky.”

“sabay?” tanong mo.

“of course,” sagot nila *sabay-sabay*.

———

the bathroom filled with steam and the scent of eucalyptus. malaking shower, enough for the four of you, glass walls, foggy, warm.

they undressed you gently.

harrison sa top.

zavier sa hips.

jonathan sa panties mo.

sobrang slow. sobrang sensual. hindi pa sexual but full of meaning.

when the water rained down, warm and soft, napakapit ka sa chest ni harrison.

“cold?” tanong niya.

“no… just… overwhelmed.”

zavier came behind you, arms wrapping around your waist. “overwhelmed in a bad way?”

“no,” sagot mo, leaning into him.

jonathan poured shampoo into his hands, nilagay sa buhok mo, massaging your scalp. “good. because we’re not stopping.”

napapikit ka at napa-ungol softly sa pressure ng massage niya.

and that’s when it happened.

harrison kissed your shoulder.

zavier kissed your neck from behind.

jonathan pulled your head gently up so he could kiss your forehead.

that combination?

holy. legs mo nanghina.

“hey, hey,” sabi ni harrison, hawak agad sa waist mo. “don’t fall.”

“s-sorry… too much…”

“too much what?” tanong ni zavier, fingers tracing your ribs.

“too much… affection.”

“then let us handle you,” sabi ni jonathan, voice mababa.

and the *switch* flipped.

mga kamay nila halos sabay-sabay naging mas intentional.

jonathan massaging your scalp turned into tracing your jaw.

zavier’s hands on your waist slid lower.

harrison’s lips on your shoulder went lower, wetter, hungrier.

“guys… wait…”

“why?” bulong ni harrison sa ear mo.

“you don’t want this?” tanong ni zavier, fingers brushing your inner thigh.

“tell us to stop,” sabi ni jonathan, thumb stroking your cheek.

but you didn’t. instead, tumingin ka kay jonathan at mahina mong sinabi: “don’t stop.”

the second time today. and this time, walang naghinay-hinay.

jonathan pulled you by the jaw and kissed you first, deep, wet, tongue sliding into your mouth habang water dumadaloy sa inyong dalawa.

zavier turned you around, hinila ka papunta sa chest niya, hands gripping your hips.

harrison knelt down sa harap mo, water dripping off his hair and shoulders. he looked up at you with dark eyes.

“open your legs, mahal.”

dahan-dahan mong binuka, shaky, and he spread you wider with both hands.

zavier held you from behind. “good girl.”

jonathan held your chin so your eyes stayed open. “watch him.”

and then, harrison leaned forward and licked your pussy in one slow, long, deep, stroke.

“fuck—harrison—ah—”

“shh,” sabi ni jonathan, kissing your neck. “take it.”

harrison ate you out like he was worshipping, not rushing, not sloppy. just deep, rhythmic, devastating strokes.

zavier sucked on your neck, leaving marks.

jonathan held your chest, massaging your breasts under the water, thumb teasing your nipples.

lahat sila sabay-sabay, controlled, coordinated.

“i’m—i’m close—shit—”

“then cum,” sabi ni jonathan.

“cum for him,” bulong ni zavier.

and harrison sucked your clit, hard, perfect pressure and you broke.

“ahhh—f—fuck—!”

you came so hard napa-kapit ka kay jonathan at zavier, legs shaking habang si harrison tumayo, wiping his mouth, smirking.

“good girl.”

jonathan turned you around, pinasandal ka sa tiles, water cascading down your chest.

“my turn.”

he slid inside you in one deep thrust, warm water running down both bodies, making everything slipperier, messier.

“nghh—jonathan—”

he pinned your wrists above your head. “look at me.”

zavier kissed your throat habang hawak legs mo.

harrison sucked on your tits, wet and warm from the shower.

jonathan fucked you slow but deep, each thrust hitting your sensitive, overworked spot from earlier.

“she’s shaking,” sabi ni zavier.

“she’s sensitive,” bulong ni harrison.

“i like her sensitive,” sagot ni jonathan, thrusting harder, hips slamming wetly. “cum again.”

“hindi ko—m-masakit na—nghh—”

“no, y/n,” sabi ni zavier, thumb rubbing circles on your hip, “that’s pleasure.”

jonathan kissed you hard. “cum.”

and you did, second time, louder, messier, legs giving out.

jonathan held you through it, whispering, “good girl. so good.”

zavier lifted you carefully, pinabalot legs mo sa waist niya.

“my turn.”

he slid inside you slowly, deeper than the other two because of the angle. your moan broke into a whimper.

“z-zavier—oh god—”

he kissed you forehead, soft, gentle, contrasting the deep strokes.

harrison held your thighs.

jonathan kissed your shoulder.

zavier was slow. deliberate. emotionally brutal.

“look at me,” sabi niya, cupping your face.

you did.

“i love fucking you like this.”

you whimpered, holding onto his shoulders.

“cum with me,” bulong niya.

and with a final deep thrust, he spilled inside you while you came around him, warm water, warm bodies, warm breath mixing together.

he whispered against your cheek, “you’re ours, y/n.”

nilagay ka nila sa fluffy towel.

binuhat ka papunta sa bed.

nilagay hot compress sa legs mo.

pinunasan ka ng lotion.

pinainom ka ng tubig.

and all three whispered, “good girl.”

[bunbunchie]

childhood friend complex

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pairing: keonhee x reader

genre: smut, childhoodfriends to lovers

word count: 1.8k

summary: y/n and keonhee have been childhood friends their whole lives, the kind that grew up sharing secrets, storms, snacks, and unspoken feelings. both of them spent years pretending they weren’t in love, afraid to risk losing the comfort they’d built. but one quiet night in his apartment, the truth finally slips out. the confession turns soft, warm, and painfully tender, slowly melting into years of repressed desire.

warnings: dom keonhee, sub reader, unprotected sex, kissing, breeding kink, size kink, pulling hair, choking (light), slapping (boobs/pussy/ass), face fucking, tongue fucking, multiple sex positions, fingering, video recording sex (mentioned), pet names, hickeys, dirty talk, oral (giving + receiving), praise kink, squirting, pussy eating, dick sucking, manhandling, rough sex, messy sex, creampie, cum eating, tummy bulge, explicit sexual content, explicit language, aftercare, and overall very wet and filthy scenes.

───────────────────────────────────────

you and keonhee had always been inseparable, the kind of childhood friends who grew up woven into each other’s routines. people teased you both for being “basically married,” but neither of you ever corrected them you just laughed it off, pretending there was nothing under the surface.

but lately the pretending had started to hurt.

today, you were curled up on his couch, your legs lazily draped across his lap while he scrolled through movie options, squinting like he wasn’t wearing glasses he absolutely needed.

“something light?” he asked.

“yeah,” you said, hugging the pillow. “i’m tired.”

he gave you that look, the one that softened at the edges, warm in a way you wished you could ignore. he tugged the blanket from behind the couch and placed it over your legs, smoothing it down like you were fragile.

“stay warm,” he murmured.

“you always say that.”

“because you’re always cold,” he replied, brushing hair from your face with slow fingers.

you swallowed hard, heat blooming in your chest.

the movie started, but his hand settled on your ankle, thumb stroking absentminded circles, and you realized instantly he wasn’t really watching anything. he was thinking. about you.

“hey,” he said quietly, not looking away from the screen. “can i ask something?”

“what?”

his thumb paused on your skin. “do you ever think about… us?”

your breath caught.

“us?” you echoed softly.

“yeah.” he finally turned to face you fully, eyes open in a way that made your lungs tighten. “more than… friends.”

silence. warm, heavy silence.

you sat up slowly, heart hammering.

“keonhee…”

he leaned closer, his knee bumping yours, his voice a soft confession, “i’ve liked you for a long time. i just didn’t want to risk losing you.”

your stomach twisted not with fear, but recognition. because you’d been feeling the same thing for months, maybe years.

he reached out, fingers brushing your cheek gently. “tell me if i’m wrong.”

you shook your head. “you’re not.”

his breath trembled, relief and want mixing dangerously. “come here.”

you didn’t hesitate. you leaned in, and he caught your waist, pulling you onto his lap so naturally it felt like you’d done this a thousand times. his hand cupped your jaw, tilting your face up as he kissed you.

soft at first. warm, careful, then deeper. the kind of kiss that unravels years of held breath. your fingers curled into his shirt as he dragged you closer, lips parting yours slowly, tasting you with growing hunger.

“god,” he whispered against your mouth, “i’ve wanted this.”

your hips shifted unconsciously, brushing the hardness already forming beneath you. he inhaled sharply, grip tightening.

“don’t move like that,” he warned, voice low, trembling. “unless you want more.”

you kissed him again. deliberately.

he groaned, head tipping back slightly. “fuck— alright.”

he stood suddenly, lifting you with one arm under your thighs. instinctively, you wrapped around him, your breath hot against his neck.

he carried you to his bedroom, kissing you every few steps like he couldn’t wait another second. he laid you down gently on his bed, hovering over you with eyes darker than you’d ever seen them.

“tell me if you want me to stop,” he whispered, brushing hair from your face.

“don’t stop,” you breathed.

the look he gave you at that was pure hunger.

he peeled off your shirt slowly, kissing every newly exposed inch your ribs, your stomach, up your sternum. he cupped your breast, thumb brushing your nipple until you gasped, and he mouthed it softly, tongue circling slow.

“pretty,” he murmured.

he tugged your shorts down, dragging your panties with them, kissing the inside of your thigh until heat pooled low in your belly.

then he settled between your legs.

his breath hit your skin before his mouth did. “spread for me,” he whispered.

you did.

and he dove in.

his tongue slid up your slit, slow and warm, before he wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking gently then harder, like he needed you. his arms hooked under your thighs, holding you open while his mouth worked you expertly.

“keonhee—” your voice broke on a moan, legs shaking.

he added two fingers, sliding inside you, curling deep, fucking you in time with his mouth.

“so wet for me,” he groaned against you. “sweetheart, you taste— fuck.”

you grabbed his hair, hips rolling uncontrollably into his face.

he loved it.

his fingers pumped faster, his tongue flicking your clit until pleasure surged up your spine, white and blinding.

“i— i’m gonna—!”

“come,” he growled, sucking harder, “come on my tongue.”

your orgasm hit viciously, your body jerking, thighs shaking as you squirted, warm fluid spilling out in sudden bursts.

keonhee moaned into you, licking everything, devouring you.

when he crawled up to kiss you, you could taste yourself on his lips.

then he guided your hand to his cock, thick and hot beneath his sweats. you stroked him and he shuddered, forehead dropping to your shoulder.

“stop— fuck— or i’ll come like this.”

you let go.

he kissed you hard, rolling you beneath him, sliding his pants down. you stared long, flushed, heavy in his hand as he pumped himself slowly.

your breath hitched. “you’re… big.”

“i’ll make it fit,” he whispered.

he positioned himself at your entrance, gliding his tip through your wetness, rubbing your clit softly.

“ready?”

“yes.”

he pushed in slowly.

inch by inch.

stretching you open until your nails dug into his shoulders and your breath broke.

“fuck— you’re tight—” he groaned into your neck, hips trembling with restraint. “you’re taking me so well.”

when he bottomed out, you felt the deep fullness, the pressure, the overwhelming heat.

he pressed his palm to your belly. “feel me?”

you nodded, breathless.

he pulled out halfway and thrust back in slow, heavy, deep.

you moaned, legs wrapping around him.

“good girl,” he breathed, kissing you sloppily before thrusting again, faster this time.

soon he was fucking you harder, hips slamming into yours, the headboard hitting the wall. he grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head, thrusts deep and relentless.

“you’re mine,” he rasped against your throat. “been mine since we were kids.”

your moans came out loud, messy, raw. “keonhee— harder—”

he growled, flipping you onto your hands and knees without pulling out. his hand tangled in your hair, yanking your head back while he pounded into you from behind, skin smacking loud, obscene.

“listen to that,” he hissed, slapping your ass hard. “so fucking wet for me.”

he leaned over you, hand sliding from your hair to your throat, holding you gently but firmly as he fucked you deeper, angling your hips upward.

you screamed into the pillows, pleasure overwhelming.

“close— i’m so close—!”

he rubbed your clit fast, thrusts getting erratic. “come again. now.”

your orgasm tore through you violently, body convulsing, squirting hard around him as your vision blurred.

the tight pulsing of your walls sent him over the edge. he thrust deep, burying himself fully as he came with a strangled groan, hot warmth spilling inside you in long, heavy pulses.

he stayed inside you, breathing hard, kissing your shoulder, your back, your neck.

slowly he pulled out, watching his cum spill from you before gently pushing it back in with two fingers.

“don’t waste it,” he whispered against your skin.

he cleaned you carefully, wiping your thighs, kissing your stomach, rubbing circles on your back. then he pulled you into his chest under the blankets.

your head rested on his shoulder, his fingers carding through your hair in slow strokes.

“you okay?” he murmured.

“more than okay.”

he smiled into your hair. “good. because this wasn’t a one-time thing.”

you lifted your head. “no?”

he cupped your cheek, thumb tracing your bottom lip.

“no, sweetheart,” he whispered, kissing you softly. “you’re mine now.”

you settled into his arms, warm and content, his heartbeat steady beneath your ear.

and this time, neither of you pretended.

[atinyzenflwr]

golden hours and shared hearts part 2

genre: fluff

wc: 1.8k

summary: on a peaceful monday, you share a joyful, love-filled day at home with your eight husbands, their children, and your adorable furbabies, surrounded by laughter, chaos, and warmth.

isang umaga ng lunes, ginising ka ng banayad na aroma ng cinnamon rolls at ng sunod-sunod na paghalik sa pisngi mo.

"baby... bangon na..." bulong ni samuel, na hawak ang tray ng almusal sa kama. naka-apron pa siya, may konting harina sa pisngi, at may ngiti sa mga mata. "niluto ko ‘to para sa’yo."

"ang tamis mo naman, baby," bulong mo habang ngumiti ka. humalik siya sa noo mo bago ibaba ang tray sa side table.

bigla namang dumungaw si julian mula sa pinto, naka-boxers at puting sando, may hawak na baso ng gatas. "uy, ako rin gumawa niyan ha, huwag ka lang kay samuel bumuhos ng lambing."

napatawa ka, sabay hila sa kumot.

"kung gusto mo ng gatas, ako na mag-aabot, 'wag ka nang tumayo," dagdag niya habang nilalapit ang baso sa'yo.

sunod-sunod na ang mga yabag papunta sa kama niyo.

"good morning, darling," sabi ni shiloah na kakagising lang. Nakashirt at shorts, medyo magulo pa ang buhok niya. humiga siya sa tabi mo at agad na niyakap ka, idinikit ang ilong sa leeg mo. "ang bango mo kahit bagong gising."

"hindi ka pa nagto-toothbrush pero sweet ka pa rin, grabe," singit ni stanley, sabay tungtong sa kama. may hawak siyang kape at tumabi kay shiloah.

"hoy stanley, nagtoothbrush ako, excuse you!" sagot ni shiloah, sabay tawa.

maya-maya’y may malamig na kamay na dumikit sa binti mo. si andy ‘yon, nakaluhod sa gilid ng kama at gumagapang paakyat, may bitbit na stuffed toy.

“mahal ko, na-miss ka nitong si sir bear!” ani andy, pinapagalaw pa ang stuffed toy parang pinapa-kiss sa’yo. “halika na, yakap ka niya… at ako rin.”

"hindi pa ba siya nakakagising nang maayos at ang dami niyo na agad diyan?"

boses iyon ni shawn, kakalabas lang mula sa shower, basa pa ang buhok, at naka-itim na bathrobe. tumabi siya sa’yo at pinunasan ng towel ang leeg mo nang marahan. "hon, did you sleep well?"

"mm-hmm, lalo na nung niyakap mo ako kagabi," sagot mo, sabay himas sa kamay niyang nakaikot sa baywang mo.

pumasok si sean, naka-pink silk pajama set, naglalakad parang runway. "okay, sino na namang nag-‘steal the show’ dito? babe, your hair’s all over the place but still pretty as ever."

inabot niya ang brush at sinimulang suklayin ang buhok mo nang dahan-dahan habang sinisiko si andy. “scoot over, i’m brushing our her hair.”

"okay…? edi ikaw na sean!" sagot ni andy sabay tawa.

biglang bumukas ang sliding door ng terrace, si jace ‘yon. fresh na fresh, naka-white shirt at slacks, may hawak na tablet at isang tasa ng kape.

"good morning, love," sabi niya habang lumapit. "you look stunning as always." humalik siya sa noo mo at sa pisngi. "you’re glowing. slept well?"

tumango ka habang binibigyan siya ng ngiti. humiga siya sa kabilang side ng kama, pinahinga ang ulo sa balikat mo.

tapos, sabay-sabay silang nagsiksikan sa kama. may yumakap sa binti mo, may humiga sa tiyan mo, may nakapatong ang ulo sa balikat mo, at si sean suklay pa rin ng suklay sa buhok mo na parang inaayos kang pang pictorial.

"group cuddle na ‘to?" tanong mo, natatawa.

“hindi lang cuddle, family portrait na yata,” sabi ni stanley, habang kumukurot ng pandesal mula sa tray ni samuel.

"ang kukulit n’yo," reklamo mo pero nakangiti ka pa rin, inabot ang kamay ni julian at pinisil iyon.

“pero gusto mo rin,” ani julian habang hinahalikan ang likod ng kamay mo.

"love, i scheduled all our calendars today for nothing but you. no work, no distractions, just us," sabi ni jace habang sinasandal ang ulo niya sa iyo.

“darling,” dagdag ni shiloah, “luto tayo mamaya ng sinigang, ‘yung gusto mong maasim, tapos si stanley magbabarbecue.”

“wag kang aasa, gusto mong ako na lang lutuin, mahal?” biro ni andy, sabay sabing, “baka may secret recipe ka rin, samuel, ‘yung pampalambot ng loob ng asawa natin!”

“baby, kahit anong luto mo masarap basta ikaw,” wika ni samuel habang naglalagay ng cinnamon roll sa bibig mo.

"excuse me, pero i made her hair flawless today. that’s contribution," sabat ni sean.

“kayo na. pero sure ako mamaya, akin siya sa movie time,” ani shawn, sabay kindat.

tawa ka nang tawa habang nilalamon ng yakap ng walo mong asawa.

isa silang kaguluhan. Isang mainit na tambakan ng pisngi, halik, at yakap. pero sa gitna ng kakulitan, lambingan, at kasamang pagmamahal, nandoon ka.

sa gitna ng walo mong asawa. sa gitna ng tahanan ninyo at sa gitna ng araw ng pahinga na puno ng pagmamahal.

pagkatapos ng maagang umagang puno ng yakap, halakhak, at lambing mula sa walo mong asawa sa kama, unti-unti na kayong bumaba sa sala para salubungin ang mas masayang bahagi ng araw, kasama na ang maliliit ninyong anak at mga makukulit na furbabies na tila may sarili ring agenda ng kalikutan at lambing.

makikita sa sala ang eksenang parang galing sa isang family commercial, isang kang reyna sa gitna ng maliit at malaking kaguluhan, pero halatang minahal mo na ang ganitong klaseng gulo.

"haha! dadiii! taaaakbooo!" sigaw ni stefan, isang sa kambal ni stanley, habang nakasakay sa likod ni stanley na gumagapang parang kabayo sa sahig.

"ayyy! sanford, not the curtains—!" sigaw naman ni stanley, pilit hinahabol si sanford na may hawak-hawak na throw pillow na mas malaki pa sa kanya.

si saoirse, anak ni shiloah, naka-princess dress habang naglalaro sa side ng sala kasama si peanut at oreo, ang dalawang hamster ni andy na nilagay sa maliit na playpen. “mamaaaa! gusto nila ‘tong toy!” turo niya sa maliit na building blocks na pilit din niya sinusuksok sa loob ng playpen.

"sweetheart, hindi building engineer ang hamsters natin pero noted!" tawa ni shiloah habang sinasalo si saoirse sa yakap.

sa kabilang gilid ng sofa, si julius, anak ni julian, kalmado lang habang nakapatong sa hita mo, nilalaro ang zipper ng suot mong hoodie.

"mama... zip... zippp..." bulong niya, matamang nakatitig sa zipper. tuwang-tuwa na siya sa simple mong damit, habang ang papa niya, si julian, ay busy sa likod niyong dalawa kakabit ng baby gate sa hagdanan.

"safety first. ayoko nang may nadapa ulit dito ‘no,” sabi ni julian habang pinapawisan, hawak ang screwdriver.

samantala, si jaxon, anak ni jace, dahan-dahang binubuhol ang buhok ng persian cat ni shawn na si cleo habang nakapatong ito sa beanbag.

“dad... cleo has messy hair,” seryoso niyang sabi kay jace.

“then what do we do, love?” tanong ni jace habang minamasahe ang balikat mo mula sa likod ng couch.

“brush... then snack time?” ani jaxon, sabay tingin sa ‘yo na parang nagtatanong kung okay lang.

"okay, but snacks later after tidy-up, ha?" sagot mo habang hinalikan ang tuktok ng ulo niya.

maya-maya pa, may tumatahol sa paanan mo, si theo, ang corgi ni shawn, excited na umiikot. kasunod niya si sugar, ang maliit na shih tzu ni samuel, nakasuot pa ng pink na bow.

"baby," tawag ni samuel habang bitbit ang small tray ng baby biscuits. "feeding time na. gusto mo ako magpakain sa kanila?"

"yes please, baby," sagot mo habang nakangiti.

"awwww, look at this chaos,” ani shawn habang dumarating mula sa kusina, may bitbit na small bowl of fruits. "theo, cleo, back off, this is not for you." binigay niya sa’yo ang bowl sabay bulong, “hon, you okay? i can take over kung gusto mong mag-break.”

"all good, hon," sagot mo, “enjoy ako sa gulo natin.”

paglingon mo, si andy hawak na ang phone, naka-video.

“group vlog!” sigaw niya. “say eyyyy, fam!”

“sabay-sabay tayooo!” sigaw ni stanley habang hawak-hawak ang kambal na parang basketball.

"one, two, three—" sabay-sabay kayong sumigaw:

"fambammm!!!"

“sabi ko eyyyy eh, pinagkaisahan niyo nanaman ako,” ani andy habang nakamot sa ulo niya.

natumba kayo sa tawanan habang ang mga bata naman ay halos matumba na rin sa kakatawa at kalikutan. si jace, lumapit para i-check kung okay ka, sabay sabing, “you know, love… with this much love in one room, we don’t even need a vacation.”

at totoo nga.

kahit magulo, kahit sabay-sabay ang sigaw, iyak, tawa, hilik ng pusa, tahol ng aso, at sutsot ng hamster, masarap ang umaga. kasi nandoon kayo.

ikaw, ang walo mong asawa. ang mga anak ninyo at ang buong pusong tahanan.

[bunbunchie]

belong with us

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pairing: harrison x yves x rj x charles x rico x yuan x reader

genre: polyamorous fluff, explicit smut, domestic worship

word count: 5.7k

summary: a slow-burning day of affection and ruin, where your six husbands spend the morning pampering you like a goddess. brushing your hair, warming your bath, feeding you fruit, before the sun sets and they strip you bare, kiss every inch of your skin, and fuck you full until you cry from the overstimulation.

warnings: polyamorous gangbang, sub reader, dom men, explicit sexual content, praise kink, rough sex, oral (f/m), pussy eating, face fucking, tongue fucking, fingering, squirting, recording sex, dirty talk, hickeys, slapping (pussy/ass), size kink, hair pulling, choking, rough manhandling, manipulative worship, creampie, breeding kink, possessiveness, crying from pleasure, lots of cum/saliva, aftercare, eating cum, degradation/praise mix, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, no pull-out, pet names, worship kink, multiple positions, tummy bulge.

—nyctroz boyz alt universe. fictional. characters do not represent the real artists.

—18+ minors please do not interact.

───〃★ ───〃★ ───〃★ ───〃★ ───

sa kusina pa lang, nararamdaman mo na. you are adored.

nakahawak ka pa sa suot mong oversized tee, na technically kay yuan ‘yon, pero ikaw na nagmamay-ari. habang pinapaikutan ka ng anim na lalaki, bawat isa may sariling rhythm, sariling paraan ng pagsamba.

“coffee with oat milk, two teaspoons, no more,” ani charles habang inaabot sa’yo ‘yung tasa, sabay halik sa ulo mo. “pasensya ka na, babe. nataon na ‘tong tuwalya ko lang suot ko.” at oo nga, tumutulo pa buhok niya, bagong ligo, mainit ang amoy.

“up, pretty girl.” si rj. hinila ka paakyat sa counter, pinaupo. siya na nagsa-slice ng strawberries habang sinasandal ka sa dibdib niya. “you slept so much, baobei. proud kami sa’yo.”

si yves, tahimik pero present. nilalagay niya sa music speaker ang favorite mong playlist, nilagay niya rin sa tabi mo ‘yung pinainit niyang socks, ready kung lamigin ka.

“gutom ka ba?” ani rico, abala sa kawali. “or gusto mong kami muna ang kainin?” sabay lingon, ngiti. dangerous, playful, halatang may binabalak mamaya.

“puta,” bulong ni yuan, nakaluhod sa harap mo habang minamasahe ang hita mo gamit coconut oil. “maybe i'll just jerk off while watching you chew.”

“hoy” sabat ni harrison, “di ba sabi natin, no sex talk ‘til lunch?” pero kahit siya, nakangisi. ‘yung tipong parang nahuhulog na ang boxer shorts sa bigat ng tigas niya habang pinapahiran ka ng lotion sa batok.

hindi mo na napansin, sinasalo ka pala ng anim na asawa. walang iniutos. walang nagselos. parang choreography lang. palitan ng role, rotation ng yakap, himas, halik, alaga.

———

pagkatapos ng brunch at something, inakyat ka nila sa kwarto. para paghandaan.

may lavender bath. may rose petals. may warm steam na nilagyan ni harrison ng eucalyptus. si yves pumasok at sinimulang suklayin ang buhok mo habang si rj nililinis ang mga kuko mo.

“ito ang gagamitin natin mamaya,” ani charles, pinakita sa’yo ang camera setup. bagong lens, steady light, slow-mo capacity. “i want this one to be slow. sensual. worship-style.”

“if it were up to me,"if it were up to me,” ani yuan, “we'd all eat you out first before we fuck you.”

natawa si rico, pero hindi pumalag. “gawin natin ‘yan. isa-isa. gusto ko dumapa ka habang sinisipsip namin bawat parte mo hanggang umiyak ka sa lambing.”

———

pinaliguan ka ng halik. Literal. hindi exaggeration.

una si yves. dila niya gumuhit mula batok mo hanggang sa gulugod, paikot sa ribs, paakyat sa utong. “amoy ka lang ng sabon, hon,” anas niya. “pero gusto ko pa ring linisin ka ng bibig ko.”

sunod si rj. hinila ang hita mo, binuka, sabay sabing. “let me taste the part of you no one else gets to see.” dinilaan niya ang singit mo, then gitna ng hita, dahan-dahang pinaikot ang dila sa clit mo… pero hindi pa tinamaan mismo. “patikim lang muna,” sabay kindat.

habang ginagawa ‘yon, si harrison dumudunggol sa gilid ng leeg mo, pinapadulas ang dila sa ilalim ng panga mo habang pinipiga ang boobs mo sa likod. “you smell like you belong to us.”

charles is already filming. rico’s on your side, tracing fingers over your spine. “gusto kong marinig kung paano ka mababali sa daliri pa lang.”

———

nakahiga ka sa gitna ng kama, katawan mo nag-iinit na parang nilalagnat. si yves ang unang lumuhod, dila agad sa puke mo. slrp. slrk. lickkk. ramdam mo agad ‘yung intensity. parang hayok, parang addict, parang ngayon lang ulit niya natikman ‘to.

kasabay niyan, si harrison fininger ka ng dalawang daliri. mabagal. kaikot. kinikiskis clit mo gamit hinlalaki habang pinipiga ka sa loob.

“putangina,” ani harrison, “basang-basa ka na. sinasabik mo talaga ‘tong puke na ‘to para sa amin?”

“yes,” bulong mo, nanginginig.

charles, sa ulunan mo, pinapadila ang tite niya sa bibig mo. “use your tongue. i want it messy. gusto kong makita laway mo sa balls ko habang pinapanood kita sa monitor.”

nganga ka agad. yves didn’t stop eating you. sabay ang paglamon ng puke at pagkantot ng bibig. sabay ang camerashutter at pag-slap sa pisngi ng puke mo.

“ahhh—fucckkk—shet—wag dyan—aaaAHHHH!”

“too late,” ani rico. “first squirt mo sa amin na.”

———

naka-doggy ka habang pinapasok ni yuan ang pwet mo, sabay kantot ni rj sa puke. halinhinan. tulo na laway mo sa kama, pero walang tigil ang pag-choke ni charles habang sinusubuan ka ng dildo sa harap ng cam.

“you like that?” ani harrison, nakatayo sa gilid, jinajakol sarili habang pinipisil ang dede mo. “you want us all inside you again?”

“yes—please—lahat kayo—gusto ko mapuno ulit—”

at pinuno ka nga.

sabay pumasok si rico at yves. isa sa bibig. isa sa tinggil. halos mawalan ka ng ulirat. punung-puno ka. sa loob, sa labas, sa gitna.

“fuck—ayan na ko—ayan—gusto kong lunukin mo lahat—”

gglkk—srrllrp—shhhpk—cum tumulo sa labi mo, habang si yuan binayo ka ulit sa pwet, walang pahinga.

naghalo na lahat. cum, laway, luha, halinghing.

you blacked out — for five seconds — pero hindi sila tumigil.

———

nakahiga ka habang isa-isa silang pumila.

harrison ang unang pumutok sa loob. hawak ang legs mo habang nilalabasan, nakasiksik sa matris mo.

“tanggapin mo ‘to. psg-aari ka namin. gawin ka naming nanay.”

sunod si charles. “look at me while i fill you. i want you to remember this face habang pinupunlaan ka.”

sunod si rj, yves, yuan… hanggang kay rico, na pinasok ka nang hindi na nagsalita. hinawakan lang ang puson mo at nilabasan ng hindi tumitigil sa eye contact.

you were done. body twitching. mind blank. kama basa. puke tuloy-tuloy ang tamod.

———

binuhat ka ni harrison. binalot sa robe. pinunasan ng limang kamay. hinalikan ng anim na labi. bawat bahagi ng katawan mo pinunasan ng cotton pad at love.

charles took a polaroid of your back, full of red marks and scratches. “i’ll keep this. pero ‘wag kang mag-alala. ako rin ang magpapagaling sayo.”

yves drew a bath. rj fed you fruit. rico massaged your lower belly while whispering, “baby, sorry kung naging hard kami sa'yo” at sabay yakap at kiss sa'yo.

sorry, we love you,” ani nilang lahat

bawat galaw may lambing. bawat pahid may kasamang “i love you.” bawat tingin may “thank you for being ours.”

ani atulog kang may dalawang ulo sa dibdib mo, may kamay sa puson, may halik sa talampakan.

[atinyzenflwr]

golden hours and shared hearts

genre: fluff

wc: 1.7k

summary: a sun-kissed birthday turns into a blissful celebration of love, laughter, and family with your eight husbands, little ones, and the warmth of home by the sea.

pagkatapos ng maikling “morning riot” sa sala, pinuwesto ka nilang parang prinsesa sa gitna ng malalambot na throw pillows sa couch. nakakumot ka pa, hawak ang mainit na mug ng tsokolate na nilagyan pa ni samuel ng mini marshmallows na hugis puso.

“para sa’yo talaga ‘yan, baby ko,” sabay kindat niya, proud na proud sa masterpiece niyang hot choco with whipped cream swirl. “wag mo sabihing too sweet kasi ikaw din ‘yan!”

“alam mo ‘yan, bubby,” sabi ni julian habang nilalapag ang tray ng mini pancakes na may smiley face sa gitna. “pinagsalitan ko ng saging tsaka blueberries, kasi sweet ka pero may layers din.”

napangiti ka habang nakatitig sa pagkain. “may layers? pinapataba mo ba ako niyan? gusto mong maging ogre ako?”

“langga naman,” sabay upo ni stanley sa tabi mo, hawak ang platito ng garlic longganisa at itlog. “kahit ogre ka pa, mahal pa rin kita. pero seryoso, ikaw pinaka-cute na ogre na makikita ko kung sakali man.”

“grabe kuya,” singit ni andy, may bitbit na sinangag at nilagang itlog. “sino ogre dito? birthday ‘to ng mahal ko, ‘wag kang bastos! eh kung i-prank kita mamaya?”

“paano mo siya ipaprank ngayong birthday niya?” tanong ni sean mula sa bar counter, nakasandal habang nag-aayos ng fruit bowl. “you know that’s a crime on this day.”

“bawal muna ang kahit anong lokohan ngayon and babe’s off-limits today,” sabay sabay sila tumango.

“hon,” sabi ni shawn, lumapit habang hawak ang vitamin supplements mo at tubig. “please drink your water. and yes, vitamins. no fighting me on this, it’s part of my love language.”

“tinatakot mo ba ko ng gamot ngayong birthday ko?” natatawa mong sagot habang tinanggap pa rin ito.

“actually,” sabat ni shiloah, “si darling ay hindi dapat nagbubuhat ng kahit ano ngayon. kaya kahit ‘yang baso, ako na lang dapat. relax ka lang, okay?”

“love,” ani jace, lumapit mula sa likod mo at inilagay ang isang maliit na gift box sa harap mo, “i don’t like grand gestures. but i like seeing you smile. so… open it.”

binuksan mo ang maliit na kahon at nandoon ang eleganteng pendant na hugis infinity symbol, may maliit na ukit sa likod na pangalan ng walo nila… at pangalan mo sa gitna.

“ang ganda…” bulong mo.

lahat sila tumahimik saglit, pinanood kang hawakan ang kwintas na may kahulugan. sinalubong ka ng mga tingin nilang puno ng pagmamahal, iba-iba man sila, pare-pareho ang intensity ng pagkalinga.

biglang tumayo si andy. “okay! time for birthday kisses. isang halik kada asawa!”

“YES. TRADITION ‘YAN,” sigaw ni stanley.

natawa ka habang unti-unting lumapit ang bawat isa, isa-isa nilang hinawakan ang kamay mo, sabay halik sa noo, pisngi, o labi, kung saan man sila komportable at sweet. walang bastos, lahat ay puno ng respeto, kilig, at pagmamahal.

si samuel, binigyan ka ng halik sa ilong “baby ko, i love you more than buttercream.”

si julian naman, halik sa pisngi, “bubby, salamat sa pagmamahal mo araw-araw.”

si sean? halik sa kamay, “babe, you’re art, literal.”

si shawn na nasa tabi mo ay binigyan ka ng halik sa noo “hon, happy birthday. you’re everything to us.”

si andy lumapit sayo at binigyan ka ng halik sa labi “mahal kita, mahal ko. more than jokes.”

si stanley naman, halik sa pisngi “langga, ikaw lang, palagi.”

si shiloah unti-unting kang nilapitan sabay halik sa sintido “darling, ang ganda mo, sobra.”

at si jace ang huling humalik sa'yo, halik sa labi sabay sabing, “we love you… always. even in silence.

at sa gitna ng lahat ng halik at ngiti, napuno ng malambot na tawanan ang buong sala. wala kang ibang naramdaman kundi kapayapaan. hindi birthday na may bonggang handaan. hindi rin engrandeng trip. pero ito ‘yung gusto mo, yung umagang puno ng pagmamahal, init, at tunay na presensiya ng walong lalaking hindi lang asawa mo… kundi tahanan mo.

pagkatapos ng tanghalian at ilang oras ng pahinga, unti-unting nabuhay ulit ang paligid. may naghahanda ng mga pagkain at gamit pang-beach, may nag-aayos ng baby bags, habang ang iba ay nagbibihis na ng pang beach outfits; nang marinig mo ang boses ni julian sa likod mo, mahina pero excited, “bubby, let’s not miss the sunset,” doon mo na na-realize na hapon na pala, oras na para tumuloy sa beach kung saan naghihintay ang buhangin, alon, at ang golden hour na para sa inyong lahat.

tama nga sila. wala na yatang mas babagay pa sa birthday mo ngayon kundi ang simpleng beach day kasama ang buong pamilya. mainit ang araw pero may malamig na hangin, banayad ang hampas ng alon, at ang buhangin, malambot sa talampakan mo habang bitbit ka ng mga asawa mong parang ayaw kang pakawalan.

“love, careful,” paalala ni jace habang hawak ang bewang mo, bitbit naman sa kabilang braso si jaxon, suot ang maliit niyang rashguard. “say hi to mom,” aniya, nakangiti kay jaxon.

“mooooom!” sigaw ng batang lalaki habang pilit iniaabot sa'yo ang maliit niyang timba.

sa di kalayuan, si shiloah nakaupo sa malaking beach blanket, hawak si saoirse habang nilalagyan ng sunblock ang makinis na kutis nito.

“darling, tingnan mo oh. gusto raw niya ng seashells. oh, anak, kay mama ka magtanong ng magandang shell ha?”

“mamaaaaaa~ shell pooo~” sabay lapit ng batang babae, palapit sa’yo habang nakapajama shorts pa siya at may flower clip.

“wait lang, mami!” sigaw ni stanley, habang hinahabol ang kambal niyang sina stefan at sanford, parehong nakatapis lang at may hawak na mini surfboards. “stefan! sanford! ‘wag kayong lumusong ng walang floaties!”

“daaaaadddi! i’m a fishieee!” sigaw ni sanford.

“me toooo, mami!” sabay ngiti ni stefan sa’yo habang humahalik sa tuhod mo. “wuv you!”

naiiyak ka sa kilig habang napaluhod, sabay yakap sa kambal.

“si julius naman, ayan oh.” tawag ni julian, habang naglalakad papunta sa’yo na may hawak na julius na ngayon ay busy sa pagnguya ng baby biscuit habang tinuturo ang dagat. “mama… mama… wawer.”

“papa at mama,” ulit ni julian habang pinapahawak si julius sa kamay mo, “maglalaro tayo sa water mamaya.”

sa gilid ng cottage, may mini playpen na gawa sa net. doon naroon ang hamsters ni andy na sina oreo at peanut, umiikot sa mini wheel habang si andy naka-sombrero at may hawak na bubble gun.

“MAHAL!” sigaw niya sa’yo. “gusto mo ng bubbles habang hinahalik-halikan ka namin?”

“hindi pa ba enough ‘tong lahat ng ‘to?” tawang-tawa mong sagot.

si samuel, nakaupo sa picnic mat habang pinapahigop si sugar, ang maliit niyang shih tzu, ng tubig mula sa pink bottle. “baby ko, si sugar gusto raw lumangoy. tingnan mo, oh.” tumingin si sugar sa’yo, tumahol ng isa. “oh diba, she agrees.”

“cleo, come here, sweetheart,” tawag ni shawn, habang kinukuhanan ng picture ang persian cat na si cleo na naka-cat vest at nakaupo sa ibabaw ng towel. sa tabi niya, si theo, ang corgi, abala sa paghuhukay ng buhangin.

“hon, theo’s going to reach elsewhere if we let him keep digging.”

“don’t challenge him, hon,” sagot mo habang tumatawa.

biglang may sumigaw:

“y/n!!!”

lumingon ka at bumungad si ate mari, naka-beach dress, nakangiti ng malaki. sa likod niya ang anim mong kuya at lahat naka-polo shirts, shades, at may bitbit na gifts at pagkain.

nauna si kuya harrison mo, naka-arm around si ate mari. “mahal, do you think my little sister’s still alive after all that baby love from his husbands?”

“nakaka-overheat sa kilig,” sabay halik ni ate mari sa pisngi mo. “happiest birthday, sis!”

si kuya yves mo naman ay tumango at ngumiti, “hon, mukhang na-suffocate na yata siya sa yakap ng walong asawa.”

si kuya rj nagbiro pa, “baobei, hindi pa ‘to complete. wala pa kaming group performance, sasayaw pa ako ala jak roberto.”

si kuya charles mo naman ay nagtawag na sa asawa niya, “babe, saan ‘yung mga drinks? mamaya tayo mag-party games.”

si kuya rico sa ‘di kalayuan ay buhat naman ang kambal mo kay stanley na si stefan at sanford nang sabay, “baby ko, gusto ko rin ng kambal. pero ‘wag muna ngayon. beach day muna.” aniya sa ate mari mo.

si kuya yuan mo naman, naka-shades at may bitbit na bluetooth speaker ay nakatingin sa asawa niya, “the program’s about to start, let’s make this day special for her, my love.”

after a while…

nagsimula na nga ang informal program na pinaghandaan nila. si sean ang tumayo, hawak ang mic, at sinabing:

“okay! rule is: everyone says one sentence to the birthday girl. husband or child, even furbaby translator, no exceptions.”

tumawa ang lahat. nagsimula ang mga asawa mo:

jace: “you bring balance to my chaos. Happy birthday, love,” sabay halik sa kamay mo.

shiloah: “darling, ikaw lang ang bagay sa mundo naming walo, salamat sa lahat.”

stanley: “langga, wala akong ibang gusto kundi ikaw ang kasama ko habang tumatawa habang buhay.”

andy: “mahal, kung cake ka, ikaw yung ubos agad kasi lahat kami sabik sa ‘yo.”

shawn: “hon, loving you feels like breathing, natural, necessary, and constant.”

sean: “babe, you’re the sun to this whole galaxy of ours.”

julian: “bubby, ikaw yung blueprint ng tahanan. walang ikaw, walang direksyon.”

samuel: “baby ko, every dessert i make is my love letter to you.”

tumahimik ang mesa.

sabay-sabay na pumalakpak ang mga bata. medyo hindi pa sila maintindihan, pero heto ang sinubukan nilang sabihin (kasama ang tulong ng mga daddy nila).

jaxon: “happy booday, mom!” sabay abot ng seashell.

saoirse: “mama… wuv…!” sabay yakap sa’yo.

stefan: “mami… cake!”

sanford: “dadi said say… ‘you’re… buwiful!’”

julius: “mamaa… happy, happeee!”

nagulat ka nang may biglang umilaw mula sa gilid, may projector silang dala. pinatugtog ni sean ang background music habang nag-play ng video montage ng mga larawan mo sa mga baby, with little notes written in crayons:

"my mama makes me laugh,"

"mama hugs are best,"

"i love you, mommy."

"you’re the prettiest in the whole beach!”

and as the sun rises higher, napuno ng tawanan, pagtakbo, soft sand, at baby giggles ang buong baybayin. may nagluluto ng skewers, may nag-uusap tungkol sa mga unang hakbang ni saoirse, may nagpipicture sa furbabies, at may mga lalaking palaging lumilingon sa iisang direksyon sa’yo.

you, surrounded by love, not just by your eight husbands, but your kids, your furbabies, your siblings, and a sister who also found love in chaos. on this day, everything aligned like the waves: warm, rhythmic, and endless.