mae

22

[ggukiebar]

nda | j.jk

pairing: idol jungkook x f. fan reader

genre: smut

word count: 15.6k

summary: what would you do when your bias offers you an NDA?

warnings: verydom!jungkook x shy!submissive reader, explicit sexual content, clit rubbing, pussy eating, blow job, squirting, edging, spitting, dom/sub dynamic, daddy, heavy degradation, dirty talk, multiple positions, detailed smut, jk is very mean, oral sex, mirror sex, slapping, choking, pussy slapping, anal, rimming, nipple play, praising, dumbfication, usage of slut/whore, cum eating, marking, mentions of oc being his toy, multiple orgasms, rough sex, mentions of sex doll, crying, overstimulation, fingering, nipple slapping, penetrative sex, hair pulling, creampie.

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“Please, please, please!” you whispered to yourself, fingers crossed tightly as you stared at the three screens in front of you.

Your laptop. Your phone. Your tablet.

Your eyes were glossy with hope and adrenaline, your feet thumping uncontrollably beneath your chair, a thin layer of sweat forming despite the air-conditioned room wrapping around you in cold comfort.

This was your first time buying concert tickets. Despite being a long-time fan, this was your only chance—because you had finally gathered enough money to secure one.

You had prepared three Weverse accounts under your name and your parents’ names, carefully reserving each slot so you could slip into the presale the moment it opened. You had already studied how fast tickets sold out in other countries—the quickest being around ten minutes. Ten minutes of chaos, of people like you refreshing, praying, losing.

You bit your lip hard enough to feel it sting. You were still in the queue when the screen suddenly shifted, dragging you into a loading page that refused to move. Thirty minutes had already passed, and all three accounts were still stuck.

“Fuck!”

Your eyes widened when two of your accounts abruptly showed session timeout.

With shaky hands, you tried to navigate through it, but everything lagged—hesitating, freezing, slipping away from your control. You cursed under your breath, glancing at your laptop—the only one still holding on, still alive.

Your vision started to blur at the edges. The chances of getting a ticket were thinning by the second, dissolving right in front of you.

“Please, just this one…” you whispered to yourself, eyes locked on the screen with fragile, breaking hope.

Your eyes widened when the screen finally moved.

No Tickets Available.

Just like that, your hopes were crushed.

You slowly looked up at the posters on your walls, the albums stacked neatly on your shelves, the plushies scattered across your bed, and the ARMY Bomb you had recently bought, displayed beside your BTS McDonald’s figurines.

Tears began falling uncontrollably from your eyes, like a flood breaking through something you could no longer hold together. The realization settled in—heavy, final—that you wouldn’t get to see them.

Your lips quivered as you quickly sank onto your bed, pulling your favorite pink cooky plushie close to your chest. You cried into it, letting everything spill out with an aching, exhausted heart.

Your parents tried to comfort you. They knew how much this meant. They had witnessed your journey growing up—how you stayed up all night waiting for comebacks, how you saved every bit of money just to buy new albums, how you would drop everything the moment a Weverse Live started, how you bought multiple happy meals just to complete all the toys, how you binge-watched their content and replayed Run BTS episodes whenever you had free time.

They had seen it all.

How deeply you adored and loved your bias…

Jungkook.

You appreciated how your parents tried to look for tickets online for you, but the number of scams you’d heard about from resellers made you hesitate. Prices were tripled—far beyond your budget. You didn’t want to burden them, even when they insisted they were willing to cover the extra cost.

You were still a student, after all. You told them it was okay—that they should just save the money for your college instead.

“What if you just check in to the hotel they’re staying at? Girl, imagine!” your best friend Mina suggested.

The hot coffee you ordered had already gone cold. The concert was next month, and Mina was now throwing ridiculous ideas at you on how you could possibly see BTS. The supposed study session in the coffee shop had long been forgotten the moment you mentioned the upcoming concert.

“I doubt it. There’s usually no news about it because of their privacy… sometimes I only find out once they’ve already checked in or when they do a Weverse live.”

Mina rolled her eyes. “I’m sure there’s at least some news if you really dig into it. How many days is the concert?”

“Two days. And even if I wanted to stalk their hotel, I’m sure a lot of fans would do that too—and the next thing you know, the hotel is fully booked.” you pouted.

You were being realistic. The chances of seeing them at their hotel—or even getting a room there—were slim. With the number of fans camping out and others researching nonstop, you had almost zero chance.

“Do you want to see them or not? Come on, I’ll book a room with you!” she nudged your shoulders, wiggling her brows as she sipped her caramel macchiato.

You chuckled softly. “Of course I do, but I swear, Mina, it’s harder than you think…”

Mina groaned, stomping her feet. “Ugh, fine! But watching the concert online is really fucking boring when you know they’re literally in the same country as you.”

You sighed. Mina wasn’t really a fan, but she knew how much you loved BTS. When she found out you hadn’t secured a ticket, she had been the first to suggest the most ridiculous ideas—stalking their hotel, camping outside the arena, chasing anything that even remotely felt possible.

After a few months since the presale, it had been a hard pill to swallow—but you had finally accepted it. You wouldn’t get to see them. Even if Mina’s ideas lingered at the back of your mind, you knew better. The chances were too low. You’d rather stay at home, wear your cooky pajamas, and stream the concert online in peace.

Still… there were the sleepless nights.

The what-ifs that refused to leave you alone.

What if you had attended the concert? What if you had somehow booked the same hotel? What if you caught a glimpse of their van outside the arena?

Being a fan for almost a decade, you knew those kinds of scenarios only happened in fictional stories. Seeing Jungkook on a random day was like finding a bag of cash in a public restroom stall—completely impossible.

Though… still, a small part of you never fully stopped hoping.

“Also, isn’t our country their last stop?” Mina said, already searching for dates and details on her phone.

“Yeah… that’s why I actually had enough money and time… but I guess luck just wasn’t on my side,” you murmured bitterly, glancing around the busy coffee shop as if the noise could somehow quiet the ache settling in your chest.

Mina suddenly froze, her eyes widening. “Wait—since it’s the last stop… don’t you think they’ll stay longer? Maybe for a few more days, like… I don’t know, rest?”

You had already thought about it—but how on earth would you ever know their whereabouts? You’d only find out once they were already there, or when they went live. And since it would be after the concert, you were certain they’d want to rest, to disappear into privacy for a while.

“Mina… it’s okay. I swear, I’ll be fine.” you assured her, her ideas now more amusing than anything else.

Until your lunch break ended, Mina kept babbling—throwing out unrealistic scenarios straight out of books and fanfics. You laughed at her what-ifs, at the corny places her imagination kept taking you.

You knew she wasn’t doing it to be silly.

She was doing it because she knew you. Knew how badly you wanted to see them. Knew how quiet you’d become once the concert actually started.

So, as your best friend, Mina had decided something else entirely.

A short out-of-town trip. While BTS was in the country. A way for you both to disappear for a while, to breathe, to rest from studies, from expectations, from everything—including the concert you couldn’t attend.

“Mina! Why didn’t you tell me?” Your eyes widened in shock when you saw the cottage number and the dates.

Mina had booked a five-day beach trip, complete with daily activities that made your head spin just reading them.

“Don’t worry, you can bring your laptop so you can still stream the concert.” she snickered, handing you the itinerary.

“Mina! That’s not what I meant—this is too much,” you groaned.

She giggled, already sitting comfortably on your bed while you scanned through the list she had prepared. “Oh, come on. It’ll be fun! Besides, it’s been a while since we’ve had a girls’ trip.”

You pouted at her, still in disbelief—but the resistance didn’t last. A smile slipped through as you pulled her into a hug anyway. “You and your ideas,” you chuckled.

“Bring cute clothes! Let’s take lots of pics—I want to update my IG!” she said excitedly.

You grinned. “Let’s go shopping tomorrow. My treat.”

Mina shrieked. “God, yes! Let’s go!”

The upcoming concert was still on your mind, but you were also busy preparing for the trip with Mina. You were excited—the small distraction keeping you from spiraling into a full breakdown over not being able to see BTS.

Wearing a cute sundress and brown sandals, you and Mina finally checked in. It was Day 1 of the concert. You had already set an alarm for the online stream later, a quiet kind of excitement settling in at the thought that, at the very least, you had the privilege of watching it while sipping fresh coconut by the sea breeze.

“Why the fuck are you reapplying your lip gloss?” Mina asked when she caught you touching up your makeup right before the concert started.

“To look cute while watching Jungkook,” you giggled, turning your ARMY Bomb on.

After dinner, you and Mina sat on a bench by the sand, your pocket Wi-Fi, laptop, and earphones already set up beside you.

Mina rolled her eyes. “That’s crazier than my ideas.”

You chuckled softly, eyes already fixed on the screen as the countdown began. Your heart raced like you were inside the stadium with them—like the distance didn’t exist at all.

When the concert finally started, Mina had to walk away because you were screaming too loudly, jumping from your seat and almost knocking over the coconut shake on the table.

“Girl, let me walk around and find a cute guy. Your shrieks are lowkey scaring me.” Mina laughed when she came back and saw you on the verge of tears, fanning yourself like you might actually pass out.

“Okay, oka—oh my gosh! They’re performing Dimple! Oh my gosh!” you shouted, already lost in it again.

For two days, you were completely gone in it—fangirling nonstop, fully absorbed in every moment. It was only on Day 3, when Mina had planned actual activities, that you finally stepped away from the screen. Until then, you had spent your time watching, rewatching, and reposting edits like the world outside didn’t exist.

“He’s so hot—I can’t believe he wore that gray shirt. It looked so good on him,” you babbled, telling Mina everything about the concert details and the surprise songs they performed.

The two-night concert had ended like a whirlwind, yet you were still floating on cloud nine. While Mina had been busy taking pictures and scouting for cute guys, you had been replaying everything in your head—taking screenshots, saving edits, and reliving every moment in real time like you couldn’t let it go.

Mina was just happy you enjoyed it. She even swore she almost thought you were going to have a heart attack when you shrieked so loudly after Jungkook lifted his shirt and revealed his abs. Your gallery probably had ten copies of that exact moment.

“And! Guess what!” you said, munching on your breakfast as you wiggled your eyebrows at her.

“Hmm… Jungkook showed his dick?”

“Mina!” Your cheeks burned as you nearly choked on the waffles you were eating.

Mina laughed, casually pointing her fork at you. “That would be good though.”

You shook your head quickly, your face still hot. “I mean—would want that—but guess what! He sang the chorus of Still With You in acapella!” you babbled again, as if Mina would fully grasp the weight of it.

For your third day, you and Mina were supposed to ride a yacht. You were already getting dressed when Mina suddenly squealed behind you, hurriedly tying the strap of her sandal.

“He replied! Oh my gosh, he’s treating me to dinner!” Mina said excitedly, quickly glancing at the mirror you were using to fix your hair.

“Huh? Who?”

“This guy I met while you were watching the concert! He wants to see me again!” She showed you her phone.

Your brows furrowed. “He’s inviting you to his cottage later?” you said, reading the message.

Mina’s eyes widened as she looked back at her phone. “Fuck! What should I do?”

“Wait… so you’re not going on the yacht with me?” you concluded.

Mina smiled cheekily, biting her lip. “Well… he’s cute and… hot…”

You raised a brow. “Make sure he’s really hot,” you chuckled, fixing your hair again in front of the mirror—when Mina suddenly squealed and hugged you from behind.

“Promise I’ll make it up to you! You’re the best!” she grinned, already moving back to the bed to grab her bag.

Mina had booked this trip for you, and you wanted her to enjoy it too. Even though she originally planned it as a girls’ trip, you had spent most of it absorbed in the concert. She had always supported your whims without hesitation—and now it was your turn to support hers.

“Why are you bringing that duffel bag?” you asked, amused at the amount of clothes she was packing.

Mina wiggled her brows. “Gotta be prepared, y’know.”

She walked towards the door, fixing her neckline one last time.

You grinned. “Text me when you’re heading back!”

“Yes, ma’am!” she giggled, throwing you a flying kiss before hurrying out.

The sheer amount of clothes Mina brought made it obvious—she probably wouldn’t be back tonight. You sighed softly, glancing down at your short pink floral dress, your hair tied in a half ponytail.

You still had two days left of the trip, but today was the first time it truly settled in. For the past two days, you had been completely immersed in the concert—no time to walk along the shore, no quiet moments to watch the sunset.

Now, it was finally your time to unwind.

Although you were tempted to doom-scroll edits again, you forced yourself up instead, deciding to follow the planned activity for the day and step outside.

-

“Number 9! Calling for all passengers on Yacht 9!”

You hurried over to the line, double-checking the receipt number Mina had reserved for you.

There were only a few people waiting—some couples and a small group of friends. You didn’t really mind being alone. If anything, you needed this time to unwind, to breathe, to exist without noise pressing in on you.

“Ticket, please!” the man in a white uniform said.

You handed it over, offering a polite smile before stepping onto the yacht.

A few groups had already settled in—holding bottles of champagne, chatting softly, taking pictures against the open sea. You made your way towards the main deck, where a small group of friends sat around a table filled with snacks and laughter.

Based on the crowd, you felt relieved it wasn’t too packed—maybe around twenty-thirty people scattered across the space, enough to feel lively but not overwhelming.

Soft music drifted through the air as the yacht moved gently along the waves. The salt of the sea lingered in every breath you took, calming something in you without you even realizing it needed calming.

You wandered towards a long table filled with food, your short dress and hair swaying slightly with the breeze.

There were different kinds of pastries, a large charcuterie board, bottles of wine and champagne catching the light, stacks of beer lined neatly at one end, and a few bags of chips scattered casually beside them.

Mina had definitely booked a nice yacht. You smiled to yourself, genuinely happy that you could finally relax and enjoy this moment—with good food, fresh air, and a quiet kind of peace you hadn’t realized you needed.

You grabbed a bag of potato chips and a bottle of wine, scanning the area for a place to sit until you spotted a vacant lounger on the sun deck.

“Perfect!” you mumbled excitedly when you noticed no one else had claimed that area.

Carefully placing your bag, chips, and wine down, you quickly took a photo to update Mina.

“Let’s sit here!”

You were still busy snapping pictures when a small group—maybe four or five people—settled in beside you.

You weren’t really paying attention at first, but in your peripheral vision, you noticed they had brought an impressive amount of snacks with them.

You opened your chips and leaned back on the sun lounger. When you heard the sharp crack of a beer can opening, curiosity tugged at you, and you glanced over briefly.

It was a group of Korean men, older than you—probably in their mid-30s to 40s. Some wore black shades, already laughing as they settled into their drinks, their voices easy and relaxed.

They must be on vacation. This beach was a tourist spot, after all.

You turned your attention back to your chips, letting the sun warm your skin as you sank into the view. The group beside you wasn’t loud—they mostly talked about the scenery and the food, occasionally breaking into laughter over the activities they had tried earlier.

The world felt slow again, almost suspended in that gentle rhythm of waves and wind.

You were busy sipping your wine when you suddenly felt it—an unmistakable stare.

The group beside you was still laughing, their voices blending into the soft noise of the sea, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was looking at you.

These men were older, and for a brief moment, unease crept in.

You sneaked a glance over your shoulder and noticed the broad-built man in sunglasses staring straight ahead—past you.

Does he want potato chips or—

With a slight frown, you followed his line of sight properly this time.

He wasn’t looking at you.

He was looking at your bag on the table.

My bag?

When he realized you were looking back at him, he quickly turned away, though the shift in his posture told you he was still thinking. Still aware.

Confused, you glanced down at your bag again.

It was just a simple beige tote bag. Nothing special. Nothing worth staring at.

You shrugged it off. It must’ve been a mistake. Besides, he was wearing sunglasses—maybe he was just spacing out, looking into nothing.

Munching on your chips again, you noticed him typing on his phone, suddenly more focused, as if he had detached himself from the conversation entirely.

You almost laughed to yourself, thinking he might actually be searching something about your bag online.

A strange thought—but harmless.

With a deep, content sigh, you leaned back again, the warmth of the sun and the rhythm of the waves slowly pulling you under.

And somewhere between the breeze and the quiet, you didn’t notice when your eyes finally closed.

By the time you woke up, it was already sunset.

The bottle of wine beside you was empty, and the small group that had been next to you earlier was gone. The sea breeze had turned cooler now—soft and comforting—while the sound of waves blended with the distant chatter of guests still enjoying the evening.

You stretched lightly and sat up.

Some people were still dancing, some chatting, others taking pictures against the fading orange sky. You still had a few hours left before the yacht returned to shore.

Grabbing your leftover chips and the empty bottle of wine, you frowned when something small caught your attention beside your bag.

A paper.

Leaning in slightly, you picked it up—and realized it was a calling card.

Song Hobeom [phone] **** [email protected]

“Who the fuck is this?”

Looking around, you didn’t see the group of Koreans anymore. You assumed the calling card must’ve come from them, especially given the Korean name and number printed on it.

Still… you were confused. Why would he leave his calling card?

Walking slowly along the yacht, you felt a slight dizziness from the wine lingering in your system. You tossed the empty chip bag and bottle aside, your eyes still scanning the space for any sign of the group you had seen earlier. The air had turned colder now, your short dress offering little protection against the breeze brushing against your skin.

Curiosity got the better of you—and maybe the alcohol gave you just enough courage.

You decided to dial the number.

“Yoboseyo?” a deep voice answered.

You swallowed. “Hello? I-Is this Song Hobeom?”

A brief sigh came through the line. “Yes?”

Confusion crept in when he didn’t immediately recognize you as the person from the sun lounger. You hesitated for a moment. Did he really hand out his calling card just like that?

“Uh, I was the one sitting on the sun lounger by the main deck. I think you left your calling card at my table?” you said, biting your lip as nerves slowly settled in.

You had no idea what he wanted—and yet here you were, calling him back.

“Oh, right. Thank you for calling back, ma’am. May I know when you are free? I would like to discuss something with you.” he said in a formal tone.

Huh?

Confusion was written all over your face.

You walked towards the bow of the yacht, trying to escape the soft music and distant chatter, holding the phone closer to your ear.

“Uhm… may I know what for? This is a bit confusing.” You looked around again, but there was still no trace of the group from earlier. They must’ve already left.

“It is a bit confidential, ma’am. But don’t worry, I will give you a short background once we meet.”

You groaned under your breath. “I’m sorry, but can’t you just tell me this over the phone?”

You didn’t want to sound rude, but you didn’t know this man. It was already strange enough that he wanted to meet in person to “discuss something.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but we may need to discuss this face-to-face to ensure the call is not being recorded. If you prefer, you may set the time and place.” he said formally.

What the actual fuck.

You rolled your eyes. This was bullshit—it sounded like a scam. Some foreign guy trying to trick people before disappearing back to his country.

“Sorry, but I’m not interested. Thank you.”

You ended the call immediately.

You weren’t stupid enough to meet a stranger like that. You had only been curious, nothing more—but the moment he refused to explain anything over the phone, something in you clicked.

Suspicion.

And you weren’t taking that chance.

You were about to walk back to the main deck when your phone beeped with a new message. You thought it was Mina, but the moment you recognized the country code, you immediately rolled your eyes.

What does he want?

You instantly regret calling his number. Opening the message, you saw that he had sent a file.

“I swear if this has a virus,” you mumbled.

You were about to tap it when another message came in.

Song Hobeom: The file can only be viewed once. Any form of screenshot or screen recording will be detected and notified. Please contact me again if you wish to proceed after reading the contract.

Song Hobeom: Please do not share this file or inform anyone about this matter. This is strictly confidential. Thank you.

Fucking hell?

You snorted softly, finding his messages almost ridiculous. It sounded like a joke—like he genuinely believed you’d get “in trouble” for forwarding whatever this was.

With a small smirk, you already decided you’d tell Mina about it later. You were definitely not falling for some scam. You’d open it, see whatever nonsense it was, and then block him right after.

With a sheepish grin, you tapped the file anyway… your heart giving a small, restless thump as the screen began to load.

What if it’s a jump scare?

Your brows slowly furrowed when the title finally appeared in bold capital letters:

NON-DISCLOSURE AGREEMENT

What?

You quickly scanned the document, reading faster and faster—until your eyes landed on a name that made your heart jolt.

“W-What the actual fuck?!” you gasped in shock. A few people turned to look at you, but you didn’t care. Your attention was completely locked on your phone.

You were starting to hyperventilate. You wanted to close it, to breathe, to think—but it was a view-once file. Your hands trembled as the alcohol from earlier wore off almost instantly, replaced by something sharper.

“This is not real… no freaking way,” you whispered weakly, quickly texting him back with shaking fingers.

No second thoughts—you typed immediately, afraid he might block you or change his mind.

You: I am free tomorrow at around 1 PM. Let’s meet by the coast area near the bar.

Song Hobeom: Noted, ma’am. Thank you for cooperating.

-

You never thought you would find yourself in a situation like this.

You chose a spot with very few people around. It was a nice sunny day, but your face already felt warm—nervous, alert, almost buzzing with anticipation.

Wearing a white floral dress, brown strappy sandals, and sunglasses, you called Mina beforehand and told her you’d be skipping the snorkeling activity for the day. You wanted to tell her the truth, but she didn’t question it when you said you just wanted to swim and relax by the ocean instead.

She told you she wouldn’t be back for tonight, giggling about the cute guy she had met. She kept talking, but your mind was elsewhere the entire time.

Honestly, you were relieved she wouldn’t be back soon. Given the terms written in the file, you needed time alone.

Or this opportunity—whatever it really was—might slip right through your fingers.

“Are you listening to me? You’re like… spacing out, girl!” Mina chuckled.

Your face immediately heated up. “Oh! A-Am I? I was just thinking about buying this merch, and it’s a bit expensive, so I was wondering if I should buy the whole set or just Jungkook’s edition.” you rambled quickly.

Mina laughed, shaking her head. “Just buy it all! Gosh! Anyways, so I went to this island…”

You bit your lip. She believed it.

She continued ranting, and you did your best to follow along, nodding at the right moments, forcing yourself to stay present. You had to hide this—or you’d be screwed.

“Do you want to order, ma’am?”

You looked up at the waiter and nearly froze when, for a split second, you thought it was Song Hobeom standing in front of you.

You were thirty minutes early.

Last night, you hadn’t slept at all—spending hours searching for the man behind the calling card. And what you found had hit you like a truck.

He wasn’t just some random foreign stranger.

He was BTS’s manager.

The weight of the NDA had settled in slowly at first… then all at once.

The same Song Hobeom you had seen on the yacht… was the same man now appearing across articles and videos all over the internet.

“No, thank you. I’ll order later,” you politely declined. You didn’t think you could eat or drink anything at this point.

The waiter nodded and left you alone.

You let out a quiet sigh, glancing at your phone to check the time. Closing your eyes for a moment, you tried to steady your breathing—slow, controlled. You couldn’t afford to panic right now. Not here. Not yet.

“Good afternoon, ma’am.”

The familiar deep voice made your eyes snap open.

He was finally here.

He approached in a composed, almost professional manner, as if this were a business meeting rather than something that had your entire morning spiraling. Black shirt, gray board shorts, black shades. Calm, unreadable.

Your gaze narrowed slightly when you noticed the large iPad and brown envelope in his hands.

You immediately stood up, quickly straightening your dress before offering your hand.

“G-Good day, uh… h-have a seat, please.” you gestured, waiting until he sat down before you did.

“Have you eaten, Ms…?” he asked, pausing as if waiting for your full name.

“Oh, it’s Y/N L/N. I a-already had lunch,” you stammered, your heart racing as you finally introduced yourself.

He smiled and nodded. “That’s good to hear. I’m Song Hobeom, the manager of Bangtan Sonyeondan.”

He opened the brown envelope and showed you its contents. Like a startled kitten, you carefully took the papers.

“Have you read the file I sent you?” he asked casually, while opening his iPad.

You immediately nodded. “Y-Yes, uh… but I only scanned it quickly.”

It was true—you had replied almost instantly because you were scared he might unsend it or take it back.

He nodded. “Alright. Let me explain this to you thoroughly. Before proceeding, we require a Non-Disclosure Agreement to protect the privacy and safety of our artist. This agreement simply means that any information you may see, hear, or experience during your time with us—such as the artist’s location, conversations, or personal details—must remain confidential and cannot be shared with others, posted online, or discussed publicly,” he said in a formal, business-like tone.

You nodded quickly. “Y-Yes, I didn’t tell anyone!” you replied immediately.

He gave another nod, turning the iPad towards you to display the contract details. Then he began walking you through each section, one by one, in calm, structured explanations.

“Ms. Y/N, the NDA does not take away your rights or force you to do anything. It only ensures mutual privacy,” he stated, and you found yourself listening closely, agreeing more than questioning. The moment you had texted back was already a sign—you had chosen to proceed.

“Once signed, the confidentiality rules will remain in effect for the period stated in the document, and breaking the agreement could result in legal consequences.”

“I understand! I-I have researched how NDAs work as well.”

You bit your lip the moment you said it, suddenly realizing how desperate you sounded. You wanted to ask so many questions—why you, of all people, why this situation had landed in your lap—but you were too focused, too eager to get to the part that mattered most now.

Signing that damn contract.

That was your priority.

“Good. If you have any questions or concerns, I want you to feel comfortable asking before signing—”

“No questions! I’ll s-sign,” you blurted out, cheeks warming as excitement slipped through your tone.

Mr. Song chuckled lightly and nodded before handing you an expensive-looking pen.

“Alright, please double-check the terms and conditions. Take your time, Ms. Y/N.”

But you didn’t.

Not really.

Before you even properly reread the contract, you signed it—like your life depended on it. A shy, almost embarrassed smile formed on your lips as you finished.

He looked amused, like this wasn’t his first time seeing this reaction. As if he was already familiar with how quickly people surrendered to these documents.

Then he handed you the iPad for another copy.

Scrolling quickly, you signed again without hesitation.

Your eyes flickered over your own name—and then, for a brief second, your heart stuttered when you saw the name of the artist involved.

Jeon Jungkook.

Mr. Song explained the terms and conditions again. You listened eagerly, a little calmer now that you had finally secured the contract.

“Thank you for signing, Ms. Y/N. Please remember to keep everything discussed and experienced confidential as agreed,” he said with a polite smile, handing you another calling card. “Mr. Jeon will be the one to contact you directly after this for any further coordination.”

You stared at the calling card—Jungkook’s name and number printed on it—your eyes widening in shock.

This cannot be real.

-

“Ugh! I want to cry!”

You stared at yourself in the mirror, now back in your cottage, pacing in front of it like a maniac.

You had one night. One fucking night with him.

The date stated in the contract was after your vacation ended. You were already stressing about what to tell Mina for extending your stay, what to say to your professors, your parents—because you had clearly told them your trip only lasted until next week.

Jungkook hadn’t contacted you yet. It was still too early. You had no idea if he was even on the island already. The only thing you knew was that you were supposed to meet him in Executive Cottage 3 at 8 PM next week.

You still couldn’t believe it.

You had always thought NDAs were just myths—fantasies spun by fans who imagined idols risking everything for a single private encounter.

Sure, you had heard rumors that things like this might actually happen… but you never thought you would experience it yourself—with your own bias, Jeon Jungkook.

It felt unreal. Worse—or better—than a concert. One-on-one. Up close. No distance at all.

Your cheeks warmed at the memory of the agreement, your heart picking up speed at the thought. It almost scared you how much you didn’t want to wake up in case this was all just a dream.

Sometimes you found yourself lightly slapping your cheek, as if reality still refused to fully sink in.

For months, you had been depressed over missing the ticket, and now—out of nowhere—you had the opportunity, the privilege, to meet your bias in private.

Now it made sense.

It was their last concert. Their managers were staying here to rest… and for what? To arrange potential NDAs?

Last night, after Mina’s call, you had spent hours deep in research—so deep it felt less like curiosity and more like you were preparing a thesis you somehow needed to defend. You searched everything: how NDAs worked, how participants were chosen, what would happen if you told someone, and a dozen other questions that only made your head spin the longer you read.

There was no hesitation anymore.

The moment you confirmed that Song Hobeom was actually their legitimate manager, something in you fully locked in. Any lingering doubt that the contract might be fake—or some elaborate prank—disappeared instantly.

It was real.

And you had already signed it.

Your excitement had gone through the roof.

Even though you wanted to tell Mina so badly, your eagerness to meet Jungkook was far stronger. You couldn’t risk it.

“Huh? Why?” Mina questioned when she returned the next day and you immediately told her about extending your stay.

“I just want to relax more, you know… I didn’t realize the sea was this calming,” you smiled, trying to sound convincing.

You and Mina were now getting ready for the snorkeling activity. After dinner, you had decided you would break the news properly.

“Are you lying to me?” Mina raised a brow.

You went pale. “N-No, I j-just really wanted to sta—”

“You met a cute guy, didn’t you?” Mina accused, squinting at you.

You blinked, caught completely off guard by her conclusion. She knew you weren’t the type to extend a trip like this—especially with school starting next week—unless, of course, it was for BTS.

Or a cute guy.

“W-Well…”

Mina giggled. “Ha! That’s why we’re besties!”

Maybe a little white lie wasn’t so bad.

Mina told you she couldn’t extend her stay anyway since she had a presentation due next week. Even though she wanted to stay longer, you reassured her you’d be fine—and that you just wanted some alone time with your “cute guy.”

Yeah.

Cute guy.

-

The following days felt like a whirlwind. You enjoyed your last activities with Mina, all while quietly trying to keep it together every time the agreement flashed back into your mind and sent your thoughts spiraling.

When the last day came, you practically rushed Mina into the van just to get a proper goodbye out before she left.

Tomorrow was finally the day.

And yet, Jungkook still hadn’t contacted you.

The day before, you had already gone through a medical examination—another requirement of the NDA. You were honestly surprised at how professional it all was, how organized everything felt despite how unreal the situation still seemed in your head.

It was almost ridiculous how seriously you had started taking everything.

You shaved your entire body. Scrubbed yourself religiously every night. Applied lotion more than usual. Even started doing small morning workouts after meals, as if preparation alone could somehow calm your nerves.

“Hi, Jungkookie!” you practiced in front of the mirror, batting your eyelashes.

“Fuck! Why did I do that?” you immediately cringed, shaking your head.

You tried again, this time forcing a different tone.

“So… how was the concert?”

“I’m honored to be chosen.”

“Do I just lay here?”

“I love you. You’re my everything.”

You groaned and covered your face completely.

You had no idea what to expect. The thought of meeting Jungkook was overwhelming in every possible way—like your brain couldn’t decide whether to freeze, panic, or completely shut down.

And honestly, you were starting to worry you might faint… or embarrass yourself beyond recovery the moment it actually happened.

The contract stated “private meeting,” and you weren’t exactly Sherlock, so it wasn’t hard to conclude that it involves fucking. Especially considering they required a medical examination—surely not for a simple chat.

You almost screamed when your phone beeped with a message.

Jungkook: Hi Y/N, see you tomorrow at 8!

“Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh!” you jumped onto your bed, staring at the text like it wasn’t real.

His message was so casual, completely different from the formal, business-like tone Song Hobeom used. It almost made it feel even more surreal.

“What should I reply… oh my gosh.”

You bit your lip, carefully choosing your words so you wouldn’t mess anything up.

You: See you, Kookie!

-

The cottage was larger than yours—an executive unit reserved for upper-class guests—with soft ambient lighting, a private veranda, a small plunge pool, a carefully kept garden, a few hammocks swaying gently in the breeze, and direct access to the beach.

This area felt different. Quieter. More secluded. Tucked away from the other cottages scattered across the busy island.

You had expected to be guided by bodyguards, but there was no one. No visible security, no presence at all. It felt intentional—like the meeting was meant to be so private that even protection would disrupt it.

Wearing a lilac wrap dress, white glittery doll shoes, and your hair curled neatly at the ends, you slowly made your way towards the cottage.

Your fingers hesitated before pressing the keycard Mr. Song had given you last week. The soft beep that followed made your nerves spike instantly—a quiet confirmation that you had arrived, and that you were allowed inside.

Once the door opened, you stepped in.

You were immediately met with a spacious bedroom featuring a king-sized bed, a lounge area, a large wooden door that likely led to the bathroom, and wide tinted windows with sliding doors that opened directly to a full view of the sea.

You stood there for a moment, taking it all in with wide eyes.

Carefully, you placed your bag beside the bed and began walking around the space, your curiosity slowly building. On the table, you noticed a selection of pastries and a neatly arranged meal set waiting, untouched.

“Hey.”

You gasped, your eyes snapping towards the bathroom door as the man you only saw on screens stepped out.

Jungkook wore nothing but a white towel wrapped around his waist, his hair still damp, droplets of water trailing down his neck and collarbones as he ran a smaller towel through his hair.

Your lips parted slightly. Fuck.

He walked toward the coffee table first, casually lifting the silver cloche to check the prepared dinner as if nothing about this moment carried any weight at all.

But for you, everything had just short-circuited.

Jungkook—right there in front of you. Real. Close. Breathing the same air.

You had seen him countless times on screens, in edited clips and fan videos—but none of that had prepared you for this. In person, his presence felt heavier, more grounded. His frame looked broader, more defined. The tattoos you had only ever glimpsed before were now fully visible under the soft lighting, detailed and striking in a way that made your thoughts scatter instantly.

Even his voice—when he spoke—carried a calm, effortless depth that made your mind go blank before it could catch up.

All the lines you had practiced disappeared completely.

You were speechless.

Frozen.

He was real.

You couldn’t believe he was real.

“Have you eaten?” he asked, turning towards you while still holding the cloche.

Your mouth opened slightly, but no sound came out. You stood near the couch like you’d been rooted in place, completely caught off guard.

A quiet chuckle left him as he noticed your reaction. He set the lid back down and began walking towards you.

Your breath hitched when he closed the distance. His fresh scent—clean, minty, just out of the shower—wrapped around you, sharpening your senses in an instant.

“Relax,” Jungkook said softly, his tone calm and steady as he gently placed a hand on your arm.

The touch was light. Grounding.

Warmth spread through your skin immediately, like your body had finally registered his presence all at once.

You nodded too quickly, blinking as if that could reset your brain. Your heart was pounding so hard you were convinced it had to be audible.

Jungkook smiled slightly, looking down at you. “Hmm, look at me.” he said when you kept avoiding eye contact.

You tried—but the moment your eyes lifted, you almost froze again.

Dark doe eyes met yours, steady and unreadable, holding you in place. His right hand lifted your chin just as you instinctively tried to look away again.

“Sit down on the couch for me, mhm?” he said gently, guiding you down with an easy, controlled calm.

You were so nervous, looking up at him like a shy deer. All the conversations you had prepared were completely forgotten—you were mentally blocked.

Jungkook tilted his head at you, still standing as he looked down at your form. “You okay, pretty girl?”

Your cheeks turned crimson at the compliment, and you nodded again like you had lost your voice.

Jungkook chuckled, crouching down to get to your eye level. “Talk to me, baby. Wanna hear you.”

“H-Hi,” you said in a small voice, almost choking on the words.

“Hmm, louder.” Jungkook whispered, raising a brow at you.

You gulped harshly, squeezing your own hands in nervousness. “H-Hi, Jungkook. Nice to meet you.” you said, a little clearer this time.

Jungkook smiled, sitting beside you. “There you go. Good job, baby.” he praised. “So polite.”

You smiled back shyly, your breath hitching when he took your hands—hands you hadn’t even realized you were squeezing so tightly.

“Baby, you’ll hurt yourself doing that…” he said gently, holding your hands and lightly tracing over the faint marks you had left on your skin.

“O-Oh, uhm…”

“Do you want to eat first? What do you want to do?” he asked softly, studying your nervous expression.

He was so calm, so composed, so sweet—it made your stomach twist in a way you couldn’t quite explain. You bit your lip under his attention, suddenly hyper-aware of every small movement you made.

His gaze briefly dropped to your lips. He swallowed subtly, something shifting in his expression for just a moment before he looked back up at you again.

“W-Whatever y-you want to do…”

Jungkook raised a brow at you, tilting his head slightly. “Yeah?”

You nodded quickly. “Yes…”

Jungkook straightened up, his gaze briefly dropping over your short dress, lingering for a moment before he looked back at the table.

“There’s a bunch of pastries you might want to try. Do you like sweets?” he said softly, opening the glass lids of the desserts in front of you.

You smiled shyly, eyes shifting towards the neatly arranged food. “Yes, I like c-cookies.”

Jungkook smiled, reaching for the tray of cookies with different flavors—chocolate chip, walnut, matcha, red velvet, and more you couldn’t even name at a glance.

You kept your eyes fixed on the cookies, forcing yourself not to look at him, especially with how near he was.

“I’ve tried walnut and matcha,” he said, pointing at a few of them.

You pouted and picked the flavor he suggested. He smiled when you chose the matcha, carefully placing the tray back down on the table.

“Do you want milk?” he asked, pointing at the bottle beside the pastries.

You nodded, taking a small bite while he poured a glass for you.

“Thank you…” you said with a shy smile.

He smiled back and stood up to get dressed while you focused on eating the cookies. When he came back, he was wearing a white shirt and black comfy shorts. He sat beside you and took a cookie for himself as well.

Jungkook was patient, sweet, and gentle with you. He occasionally asked about your hobbies, your likes, your favorite food, and small details that only your parents and Mina usually knew.

With a soft, hesitant voice, you slowly opened up—talking about how you became a BTS fan, how long you had followed them, and how much you liked him.

He listened closely, never interrupting, only asking follow-up questions like he was genuinely interested.

His eyes followed your lips whenever you spoke, then shifted to your eyes whenever you looked away. And every time your voice got smaller, he leaned in slightly, as if trying not to miss a single word—especially when you talked about him.

Neither of you mentioned the NDA.

It felt, strangely, like you were simply there to spend time with him.

You honestly thought he wouldn’t talk much, given how shy you were—but Jungkook was unexpectedly patient, giving you space to settle in and feel comfortable around him.

But then

You were giggling about his travel story with Jimin when you noticed his tattooed hands slowly settling around your waist.

“A-And what did he do?” you asked, a little startled.

Jungkook had been talking about some of their personal trips with the members. You were surprised by how open he was with you—the way he spoke during his Weverse lives was exactly the same in person: charming, funny, and easy to talk to.

You hadn’t expected him to answer your small, silly questions, but he was attentive, responding to everything like you had known each other for years. You felt, strangely, at ease.

He pouted slightly, suddenly distracted by the lace ruffles at the hem of your dress, his fingers lightly brushing and playing with them.

“Used all his perfume to spray it on the huge bug.” he chuckled lowly, his eyes still lowered towards your dress.

You giggled, imagining the chaos. “Did the bug get killed?”

Jungkook slowly looked at you, his eyes a little heavy-lidded, his hands still idly playing with the hem of your dress.

“Hmm, no.” he rasped.

Your eyes widened when he pulled you closer, his left arm circling your waist to steady you. His right tattooed hand lifted both your legs across his lap.

“You smell good.” he murmured closely, fingers now toying with the ribbons of your wrap dress.

You gulped harshly, your hands resting awkwardly on his arm for balance. Up close, he could see the details of your makeup—light glitter dusted across your cheeks and eyelids, pink gloss on your lips, a soft blush deepening from warmth, and lashes curled with a hint of mascara.

He lifted a loose strand of your hair, tucking it behind your ear, then let his fingers trail lightly along your cheek.

“You dolled up for me?” he said lightly, tilting his head.

His tone had shifted—less careful now, more playful… almost teasing.

“Y-Yes… do you like it?” you asked shyly. It had taken you hours to finish your makeup, hours to pick a dress and style your hair. You were almost embarrassed when you saw that he looked so fresh and handsome after the shower, while you had taken an eternity to get ready.

Jungkook poked the inside of his cheek. He held your face with one hand, almost squishing both of your cheeks. His touch was gentle, but the way he tilted your head to examine your face made you feel weird.

Made you feel wet.

“I do,” he said lowly. “I like the glitters.”

You smiled, a bit more confident now. “Really?” you said happily, leaning a little closer to him. “Matches my doll shoes right?” You moved your toes up and down.

Jungkook nodded, his lazy eyes staring at you, then down at your dress. His hands traced slow circles on your bare thighs, making you tingly.

“I noticed something though…”

“Hmm, what?” you tilted your head curiously.

He pouted. “Your dress has no glitters, babygirl.” He slightly held the end of your dress, as if examining the texture.

You pouted. “Yeah…” You looked down. “B-But—”

Your thoughts were interrupted when he softly kissed your cheek.

“Hmm…” He slowly held the ribbons of your dress, and with one hand, he untied the knot.

“W-Wait—” you gasped, eyes widening when you saw what he was doing.

“It has no glitters, baby… doesn't match your pretty little shoes and makeup." he said in a mocking tone, removing your dress from your shoulders.

“Jungkook…” you said softly, cheeks growing hot under his gaze.

Licking his lower lip, his gaze dropped to your body.

The soft swell of your breasts was hugged perfectly by the white bra you were wearing, matching the delicate fabric of your panties. The small white ribbon resting between your breasts and the top of your underwear caught his attention—something so simple, yet enough to make his cock tighten.

You looked… soft, so pretty, too cute. Ready to be ruined by him.

His hands slowly moved to the straps of your bra “Oh baby…” he said in a cooing tone. “This doesn’t have glitters as well.” He said it like it was a problem. His fingers hooked onto the straps before pulling them away from your skin—only to let them snap back in place, the sting blooming lightly against you.

You were speechless. The way he talked to you, the way he looked at you, the way he played with you—it made your body heat up, a quiet rush of warmth settling low in your stomach.

Your instinct was to cover yourself, but the way he raised a brow at you made you hesitate, a shiver running through you instead. You blinked slowly, caught between nerves and awareness you couldn’t quite name.

“Jungkook, t-this is embarrassing.” you said in a small voice.

You thought you could be confident—years of reading fanfictions had convinced you of that. You were certain you could fuck him better, that you could show him what you were capable of. Make him feel good. Please him. Make him happy.

You had been so sure of yourself—so full of it, even—thinking you could give him the best night of his life.

But the moment he touched you, your mind went completely blank. All rational thoughts slipped away, leaving you flustered and unsure of yourself, shrinking back into a shy, overwhelmed version of you.

Jungkook chuckled sarcastically. You gasped when he suddenly pulled your hair, his lips reaching under your ear to whisper.

“You signed up for this, didn’t you?” he rasped, his lips grazing your earlobe.

You squealed, his dominance eating you alive. His sweet, teasing tone was gone; the way he pulled your hair closer made you shiver.

“Y-Yes,” you bit your lip. You felt his lips move down your neck, his hot breath tickling you.

“Hmm… do you want me to elaborate on what we’re doing here?” he said in a tone like he was talking to a child. You gasped when he slightly bit your neck.

“Sorry, I was j-just—”

He removed your bra quickly, tossing it somewhere before his fingers grazed near the swell of your breast, teasing you.

“Use your pretty little brain, baby, come on…” he said harshly, suddenly pinching your nipples, making you whimper.

Jungkook raised his head to look at you, his pupils dilated. The way he swallowed harshly when he saw your round breast and pink nipples made him leak.

“Do you know…” he whispered under your ear. “How bad…” He slightly slapped your nipple, soothing it afterward by rolling it gently between his fingers. “I wanted to fuck you?”

“J-Jungkook-”

“Look at you… you’ll let me do whatever I want, right?”

You shut your eyes tightly…followed by a slow nod, stunned by his words and actions.

He raised a brow, eyes dropping to your nipples. Your vision almost slipped when he suddenly spat on them, using his fingers to spread it over your breast.

“Yeah? You’ll let me use you?” he said in a low voice, his hands now trailing down the garters of your underwear. “Like a pretty little, sparkly slut that your are.’’

You knew what he wanted—it had been clear from the very beginning. It had already been hours, and you were still shy and hesitant. You wanted this too, but you were scared to make the first move, scared to say or do something that might turn him off.

He, on the other hand, had been patient from the start—letting you settle in, letting you eat, letting you relax, asking you what you wanted, giving you time without rushing you.

You didn’t realize the way his eyes darkened the moment you entered his room—the way they wandered down the valley of your breasts, the way they roamed over your dress that hugged your curves— showing the swell of your hips, the way his gaze followed the pout of your lips. The way your cute little glitters and doll shoes made you look like a proper little slut for him to use.

It’s been more than a year.

Jungkook had been busy with tour, with the group’s latest comeback. He had been working endlessly—promoting their new songs, filming content for a variety of brands, updating his Instagram and TikTok daily for ARMYs, practicing nonstop to show his best on tour. His schedule had been packed for over a year since their comeback.

Now that the tour had finally come to an end, it was his time to relax and unwind.

Jungkook’s stamina was unreal. Despite his busy schedule, there were times he would ask his manager to arrange private, strictly confidential meetings through NDAs.

Unfortunately, their latest tour had been much bigger, making it harder for his manager to coordinate anything outside of his packed schedule. Because of that, for the past months, Jungkook had been letting all of his sexual frustrations by himself.

It started in 2017. At first, he was the one personally choosing and approving everything himself, but after a few years—once his fame and schedule became even more intense—his manager took over the process. It became less personal and more structured, handled carefully behind the scenes.

With his level of fame, everything had to be treated with strict confidentiality and formal documentation.

For years, all the NDAs Jungkook had been involved with stayed quiet—carefully kept private, out of fear of the consequences, but also lingering with the hope of another night with him.

He was a man, after all. With his busy schedule and global fame, there was no room for commitment or long-term relationships. Everything in his life moved too fast, too publicly, too tightly controlled.

Because of that, he relied on brief, private arrangements—carefully managed and kept out of the public eye—to relieve stress and maintain some sense of personal balance amid his packed schedule.

It was almost like something carefully curated over time. He didn’t have a specific type, but his manager knew him well enough to anticipate what he was comfortable with. Over the years, everything had become more structured—quiet introductions, formal agreements, and strict confidentiality before anything could proceed.

After the tour, Jungkook had been particularly insistent on arranging an NDA soon. The long schedule and constant pressure had built up, and he needed a way to release the pent up sexual frustration.

When the team decided to extend their stay in the country after the final stop, his manager quietly began looking into possible private, strictly confidential arrangements handled under NDAs.

It wasn’t urgent—more of a routine precaution when they had extended time in one location. In most cases, it was beneficial if the person involved was already an ARMY, since familiarity with boundaries and expectations made things easier. Over time, most of the people who signed were fans in one way or another, while others were simply individuals who happened to be in the right place at the right time and agreed to the confidentiality terms.

Jungkook himself rarely interfered with the process. He trusted his manager to handle the details, especially during tours and rare breaks when privacy mattered more than anything else. The goal was simple: rest, recovery, and avoiding unnecessary exposure.

That was why his manager moved discreetly when he saw you—subtly noting your presence, your behavior, and your isolation from the crowd before eventually placing a small calling card on your table.

When Jungkook saw you standing in front of him, frozen like a deer caught in headlights, all his rational thoughts slipped away for a moment. You looked so sweet, ready to be used.

Jungkook was unbearably horny.

He wasn’t the type to extend another night, even with a potential NDA—but he was the type who wouldn’t stop fucking you once you stepped into his space. The kind who fucked hard. The kind who took control and dominated you without hesitation. The kind who would leave marks—bruises that lingered long after the night ended. Whether you were the shy type or the bold type, you would fold once he touches you, once he pulls your hair and manoeuvres your body to his own liking.

He’s mean when he fucks, praising you in a degrading way… though he would always start off sweet, to ease the tension, with his usual kind self and bunny smiles.

But, afterwards?

He would fuck you like a dirty whore, play with you like a little toy, use you like a cum dump.

When he noticed how hesitant and vulnerable you were, he took the lead by making sure you were comfortable at first. But his patience was running thin. Your sweet scent engulfed his senses—your soft voice and small giggles, your shy smile and twinkling eyes—it all made his cock twitch.

It had been months—too long without a proper release. At first, he wanted to take his sweet time with you, but your hesitance and shy demeanor were driving him crazy. Jungkook wanted to bend you over and fuck your unused holes, wanted to wrap his hands around your neck, wanted to fuck your pretty mouth until you were gagging and crying for him, wanted to feel your warm pussy wrapped around him until he could no longer think straight.

He forcefully ripped your underwear, leaving red marks on your thighs. Your body was now fully exposed to him.

“Pretty girl,” he mused, when his gaze dropped at your pussy, you instinctively closed your legs.

He gripped your thighs, forcing them open so he could look at your cunt. “Pretty little pussy.” he whispered, staring at your cunt with a faint shine visible from your wetness. “Acting so shy yet your pussy is soaking.”

“Jungkook, p-please…” you pleaded, slightly moving your legs.

“Aww, a few moments ago you wouldn’t let me see you. Now you’re pleading, hmm?” he cooed.

Your breath hitched when his index finger traced the slit of your cunt, gathering your juices.

“Oh, t-that’s—” you whimpered. 

You were long gone.

He was making you so wet and turned on. Not that you weren’t already—your shyness was already getting the best of you—but the moment he took the lead, whatever composure you had left began to slip away. Your thoughts scattered, your attention narrowing to him alone, your body reacting in a way that made you feel both overwhelmed and helplessly aware of him.

Your eyes widened when he licked the finger that had gathered your wetness, staring at you while his tongue rolled over it.

“Hmm, you taste so good.” his finger, now wet with saliva, went back down your cunt to gather your juices again, bringing it to his mouth to taste it once more.

“Do you taste yourself?” 

“N-No, I haven’t,” you admitted shyly.

He placed his wet finger on your lip. “Open,” he said sharply, like he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

You slowly opened your mouth, his finger immediately sliding in so you could taste yourself. 

“That’s it… twirl your tongue, baby.” You obediently twirled your tongue around his finger, your saliva dripping down his hand messily. His cock twitched at the sight, he pulled his finger from your mouth with a soft pop.

“Get on the bed and spread your legs.” slapping your thigh lightly to urge you up.

You were almost dizzy, his words barely registering in your mind… you stood up, almost stumbling, but Jungkook caught your waist firmly.

“Careful, baby.” he chuckled lowly, your cheeks heating up in response.

Your legs felt weak as you made your way to the bed, Jungkook following behind. When you bent down to remove your doll shoes, he held your arm to stop you.

“Leave them.”

“O-Okay,” your brows furrowed, slowly sitting on the bed with your doll shoes still on.

Jungkook raised a brow at you. “Raise your legs on the bed.”

“But my shoes…” you pouted.

Jungkook chuckled, crouching down to level with your face. “It has glitters, baby. No need to remove it.”

You blinked slowly, the realization settling in as you recalled his earlier comment about your dress and undergarments not having any glitter details.

Raising your feet, you let your doll shoes rest on the mattress. Your legs were folded as you adjusted yourself, your wet cunt fully exposed under his gaze.

Jungkook’s hand moved absently over his shorts as he looked at you with heavy-lidded eyes, his attention fixed on your wet pussy. “Spread wider, baby. Hold your ankles for me.”

You spread your legs wider, holding your ankles, making yourself open for him. Your juices leaked down onto the mattress, giving him a clear view. Your cheeks and neck turned red from what you were doing for him.

“That’s it, wider.” he groaned, removing his shirt and shorts in one go. Your arms almost gave out when you saw him naked in front of you.

He was so huge—his cock red and veiny, precum leaking from the tip, his hand gripping himself, rolling the foreskin, pumping more wetness onto his mushroom head.

Jungkook moved closer, looking down at your cunt while palming himself shamelessly. “Do you like how I touch my cock?’’

You whimpered when his other hand went down to you, his middle finger sliding into your hole easily. The wet squelching sound filled the room.

“Slut,” he whispered. 

Using your wetness, he spread it around his cock like lubricant, mixing it with his precum. “You’re so wet baby, my good little whore.”

You whined, your arms growing tired from the position. When you tried to let go of your ankles, Jungkook slapped your pussy.

“Keep them open,” he said harshly, squeezing his cock tighter, releasing more precum at the tip. 

“Let me see your pretty holes, yeah?” His cheeks hollowed as he gathered saliva and spat onto your exposed cunt, letting it drip inside your wanting hole.

“Jungkook, p-please… I can’t anymore,” you whined, your body clenching around nothing. You wanted him to touch you.

“Shh, be a good doll and stay still, yeah?” he groaned, spitting down on his cock, spreading it along his shaft as he pumped faster while looking at you.

It was so overwhelming—the way he looked at you while touching himself made you so wet.

“P-Please, t-touch me.” you pleaded, your eyes glossy with need, whining when you felt more of your juices spill onto the bed.

Jungkook groaned, “Be a good fucking slut and watch me touch my cock.”

It was obscenely dirty—watching him touch his cock so fast, his gaze locked on your pussy. Every now and then, he’d gather your slick with his fingers, spreading it along his length, making himself even wetter, even more desperate.

And just when it looked like he was about to cum—he stopped.

His hand tightened around the tip, squeezing just enough to hold himself back, dragging the moment out, edging himself with a restraint that only made it worse.

“Fuck!” he quickly kneeled down in front of you, his face now very close to your pussy. When you looked down, your eyes fluttered when you saw him staring closely at your twitching hole.

“You look so tight,” he groaned, his finger tracing your cunt lightly.

“Koo…” you moaned, already shaking from the contact.

He kissed your inner thigh, occasionally biting the soft skin to leave marks. When you were already getting too whiny, he leaned in closer, his tongue pushing inside you.

“Oh, Jungkook—” you moaned loudly, the feeling of his hot tongue inside your hole making you quiver. He was pushing his tongue so deep, like he wanted to collect all your juices.

“Mhm,” he moaned, the vibration giving soft pulses down your clit. He collected all your juices, sucking them as much as possible, going deeper and deeper just to spit it right back up on your swollen clit.

“Oh my gosh—” you whimpered. He was making you as messy as possible. When he wrapped his lips around your clit to suck, you almost saw stars from the pleasure, the sensation pulsating through your whole body making you roll your eyes back.

“You like that?” he murmured while sucking your clit, his tatted finger going inside your hole, releasing more juices from you.

You nodded almost instantly, holding your ankle tighter. When he nipped harshly on your clit, you almost dropped your legs, shaking from how good his lips and tongue felt. He looked up at you, still sucking your clit while inserting another finger inside you, instantly brushing your sensitive spot.

The way his middle and ring finger brushed your g-spot made your clit pulse. With the pressure of his lips around your clit, you were close to cumming.

“Jungkook, I-I’m gonna…”

“Go ahead baby, wanna eat your cum,” he whispered against your cunt, sucking harder, his fingers moving aggressively inside you.

You were shaking. When you felt your high building, you almost pushed him away, letting go of your ankles to grip his hair.

“Jungkook! S-Stop,” you pleaded weakly. The pleasure was too much, too intense. His pace did not falter, his hand pressing your lower stomach down.

When he removed his fingers, you thought he was done, but he immediately rubbed your clit in circles, spitting down on your hood while holding your wriggling body in place.

You moaned loudly… his fingers, his mouth, his spit—all of it pushed you over the edge. You came so hard you almost fainted. 

He still didn’t stop- you were overstimulated, trying to push him away, but he wouldn’t let you, drawing more release out of you. The pressure of his fingers dragged you into another climax, making you squirt messily around him, splashing his face, his neck, his body.

“S-stop, please Koo…” you cried, shaking uncontrollably as you squirted again. His fingers still didn’t stop. His dark eyes stayed fixed on your swollen pussy, amusement etched across his face.

“Messy girl, good job baby.” he cooed, giving your pussy a light slap to coax out the remaining slick.

Your cheeks were wet with tears, your body weak from orgasm. He leaned down, holding your cheeks gently to make you look at him.

“Poor baby, let me wipe your tears, hmm?”

He leaned down, licking your tears slowly, his hot tongue dragging wetly across your cheeks.

You whimpered, your body barely holding itself together. His lips moved down to your nipple, sucking the hard bud softly, while his other hand caressed your other breast, pinching and rolling your nipples.

His throbbing cock grinds against your spent pussy, his swollen tip smearing messily against your slit, spreading his precum all over your cunt.

“Koo…” you said softly, still tired and hazy from your release.

His mouth moved to your other nipple, his teeth tugging slightly, making you gasp. You were certain you would have bruises—the way he sucked your nipple mirrored how he had sucked your clit, lingering just enough to draw a reaction, coating it in spit before taking it fully into his mouth.

“Baby, can you feel how hard I am for you?” he whispered, his cock grinding slowly against your wet pussy, his tip brushing your clit… making you wetter again. “Do you know how long I wanted to fuck a nice warm pussy?” He grabbed your neck, your lips parting instinctively. He took the chance to spit into your mouth, leaning down to slip his tongue in messily, swallowing your moans and protests. His grip tightened each time you whimpered.

“Been touching my hard cock for months baby,” His movements were slow, deliberate—drawing arousal back into your body. “Need your tight pussy so bad.” The way he rolled his hips against you, the way he silenced you with his tongue so no protests could leave your mouth.

“You wanted this?” he groaned against your lips, releasing your neck only to squeeze your breast harshly.

“Ouch, Koo—”

“Answer me,” he said sharply, tapping your right cheek.

“I w-want this,” you said with glossy eyes, small hands gripping his arm tightly.

He tilted his head at you. “Yeah? You wanted to be fucked like a slut don’t you?” he taunted, sitting up to squeeze his cock, teasing himself by twirling his index finger over his tip. “Are you a slut? hmm?”

You nodded weakly. “Would do anything for y-you.’’ you said shyly.

Jungkook raised a brow, standing up at the edge of the bed. “Come here then, crawl to me.”

It was degrading, the way he treats you like a slut for him to use… yet it makes you wetter, makes you hornier. You crawl towards him like a good whore, looking up at him with pleading, sparkly eyes. Your makeup is ruined, your hair disheveled, your doll shoes still intact, making you look like a ruined sex doll.

“Good girl, now wrap your hands around my cock.” he rasped, holding the base out for you. When your small, shaky hands felt his veiny shaft, you almost came again. It twitched in your grip, hard and flushed red at the tip.

He groaned. “Spit on it, baby. Make it nice and wet for me.”

You spat on his cock, spreading it around the base before moving your hands up and down, rolling the foreskin as you worked him. He moaned loudly, head tipping back, jaw clenched, sweat forming across the expanse of his chest.

“That’s it, what a good little whore.” he praised, caressing your hair.

You tried your best to make him feel good. You raised your other hand, spitting into your palm and spreading it together with his precum.

Jungkook groaned at the sight. Using both of your hands, you made a twisting motion along his length, looking up at him like a good girl.

“I w-want you,” you said with a bit of confidence.

Jungkook cursed under his breath. “Suck my cock.” He slapped your hands away, then pulled your hair, forcing you to take his cock into your mouth. His breath hitched when he felt you gag around him, your nose pressed against his pelvis, your eyes turning watery.

“Take it,” he groaned harshly, guiding your head up and down like you were his personal fleshlight. You tried your best to take him, even though he was so big in your mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat.

It was sloppy and nasty. Your tongue pressed flat against the underside of his cock, tracing the mushroom tip while you hollowed your cheeks and sucked hard. Spit and precum was leaking down your chin, your eyes glossy and red, the way you twirled your tongue to trace the veins of his cock made him groan.

“Hands behind your back,” he panted.

You immediately did what he said, your body fully under his control. When he pushed deeper, your face pressed against his pubic hair. You choked, saliva and precum bubbling at the corners of your mouth, you want to tap his leg, the air in your lungs limited.

“You look so pretty with my cock- fuck! I’m gonna cum.” he grunted, keeping you close until you felt the liquid heat spreading inside your throat. He forced you to swallow, keeping your face snug against his pelvis so not a single drop would spill.

When he released your head, you almost collapsed onto the bed. Your eyes were red, your mouth slightly bruised, and your neck ached from the way he had angled your face. Due to exhaustion, you let him maneuver your body, pushing you down and flipping you over.

“Bend over, baby. I’m not done using you.”

He was still hard, giving his cock a few more pumps before guiding it towards your pussy.

“Open your pussy, baby. Be a useful slut and spread yourself for me.”

With weak hands, you reached back to spread yourself for him, opening your folds. Your wetness leaked down your inner thighs.

“Look at you. You just came, yet your pussy already wants more… dripping all over my sheets like a whore.” he said mockingly.

You whimpered. “P-please, f-fuck me.” You were almost crying, your arms tired and your body aching from the position, but you wanted to please him so badly, wanted him to use you till you could no longer take it anymore.

Jungkook chuckled behind you. You thought he would tease you again, but you gasped when he suddenly pushed his cock inside you. Despite your earlier orgasm, the stretch was still painful, making you scream into the sheets.

“You’re so tight, fuck.” he groaned, looking down at his cock getting swallowed by your tight pussy.

He leaned down, pressing your head down further, his cock pushing deeper and deeper, making you squirm in both pleasure and pain.

“Fucking slut, so tight around daddy.” he whispered, your face buried in the sheets.

You clenched around him, whining against the mattress.

“Oh, you like that?” he taunted, pushing deeper until he reached your g-spot.

You could feel every drag of his cock inside you—his veins, his mushroom tip. The stretch was so good you were close to cumming, clenching around him as he fucked you deeper.

“Stop that, baby, I’m gonna cum.” he almost laughed, pulling your hair up so he could see your face. “Want to fuck you for hours, baby. I’m gonna use your tiny hole till daddy can’t release cum anymore. Do you want that?”

You whimpered, “Yes, d-daddy.”

He groaned harshly; the way you called him made him even hornier. He pulled out and shifted down on his side, pulling your body snug against his chest, your back pressed against him. “Keep your legs up,” he whispered, holding his cock and directing it against your leaking hole.

You didn’t expect to be fucked by Jungkook sideways. He held your waist while driving his hard cock into you, your legs spread wide in the air as his lips nipped harshly at your neck.

“Feels so g-good, daddy.” you moaned, your body bouncing slightly from the force of the way he was fucking you.

Jungkook bit your neck, his hands moving down to rub your clit. “Uhuh, daddy’s gonna fill you with so much cum and you’re gonna hold it like a good girl.’’

You moaned, trying to bite your moans back, but Jungkook slapped your clit harshly. “Moan louder,” he groaned, his balls hitting your ass as he pushes his cock all the way out just to push it harder all the way in.

“J-Jungkook.” you moaned, eyes rolling back.

“Louder.”

“Jungkook!” you moaned louder.

“Good girl,” he chuckled behind you, his fingers coming back down to rub your clit again.

You could feel your cum dripping down your thighs, the loud squelching sound of his cock fucking into your pussy and his deep groans pushing you to the edge. When he gave your clit a good rub, you came all over his cock, your pussy clenching around his girth, releasing so much cum. You held his wrist to stop him, your thighs shaking—you were certain you almost drooled from the deep pulses your cunt was producing.

Jungkook groaned behind you. You gasped weakly when he removed himself inside your twitching pussy, your cum leaking onto the mattress, but he immediately lowered his head to catch your cum, wasting no drop.

“I c-cant, too much!” you cried.

Jungkook held your thighs firmly, slurping all your juices like a starved man. When he raised his head, his chin and nose were wet from your arousal. Using both his index fingers, he opened your hood, exposing your puffy clit. He leaned down to suck it, and you gasped when you felt your cum and his warm saliva spreading.

“Oh daddy,” you moaned, another wave of pleasure rolling through your body.

He looked up at you, his tongue giving kitten licks on your clit. “Are you daddy’s good girl?” he murmured against it, his thumb circling the bud, the dual sensation making you lose your mind. “Do you like how daddy eats your pussy?”

“Yes daddy, it f-feels nice.”

“Nice?” Jungkook chuckled, sucking his thumb before rubbing his spit all over your clit. “Is this nice?” he mocked, looking at your bud as it looked so swollen and pink.

“Describe nice for me,” he growled before standing up, carrying you with him. Your thighs wrapped around his waist as he walked beside the large mirror. Using both of his hands, he held your ass and pushed his cock inside your used hole, using almost no strength to lift your body just to push you up and down around his hard cock.

You could see your reflection in the mirror—the way he used your body to pleasure himself, the way his biceps flexed every time he pushed and pulled you against him. He carried you like a feather, your body like a used, fucked-up sex doll.

“Is this… nice?” he mocked you, his lips parted as he looked at your pleasured face. He could feel your juices dripping down his muscular thighs. He chuckled at you. “Too dumb to answer, baby? Is my cock making you feel so good?”

You squealed, gripping his arms tightly as your body bounced up and down. He was going so fast, his hips snapping against you, pushing up while forcing you down, the tip of his cock hitting your cervix.

“Gonna cum, baby. Would you hold my cum inside like what I taught you?” he panted, his thrusts getting sloppy, his eyes hazy.

“Y-Yes daddy.” 

Jungkook groaned, his hands gripping your ass hard, enough that it hurt. His cock drilled in so deep that you whimpered when he pulled your body close, forcing you down as he spilled all of his warm cum inside you. He groaned beside your ear, biting your neck through his intense orgasm, balls deep and snug against your ass. Your legs were shaking; you felt so full. You tried to move, but his grip was too strong. You could feel all of his cum filling your pussy, and it was so much that you could feel some of it dripping down your legs.

You thought he was done when he removed his cock inside you. Your legs wobbled as he quickly set you down on the bed, his hands palming your pussy as if to keep his cum inside you. Your eyes almost went out of their sockets when you saw that he was still hard.

“Raise your legs,” he rasped, gripping his cock from the base as he spread the cum that was left on his girth.

When you weakly raised your legs, he could see how much cum was inside your pussy, threatening to spill out.

“Touch yourself, push my cum deeper,” he said with serious eyes while staring at your hole.

Your eyes widened. “J-Jungkook, t-thats-”

‘’Come on baby, daddy’s waiting.” 

You gulped harshly. He was slowly rubbing his swollen cock, teasing the tip while waiting for you to move. Your small hand slowly reached down to your hole, pushing his cum deeper, but some of it spilled onto the bed. You tried your best to push it in further, but your past orgasm was still overstimulating you.

“Like this, d-daddy?’’ you said shyly.

Jungkook groaned, staring at his cum in your tight hole. “Good job baby, can you add another finger for me?” 

You added another finger. It was a lot easier to push his cum deeper, but your pussy was getting sensitive. You were whimpering—the fact that he was just staring at you while rubbing his mushroom tip made you chase another high you didn’t even realize was coming. The pad of your fingers brushing against your g-spot with his cum felt so good, forcing you into another mind-blowing orgasm. The fact that you came just from pushing his cum deeper felt so dirty.

“Oh my gosh, I-fuck..” you were convulsing. You removed your fingers, trying to close your thighs shut, but Jungkook held your legs. He quickly inserted his hard cock, you were still pulsating and the feeling of his cock replacing your fingers extended your orgasm, your wet pussy clenching and unclenching around his cock.

“Fuck you feel so good, Daddy didn’t stretch you enough huh? You’re still fucking tight.” he growled, his hips making a rolling motion as his fingers pinched your nipples harshly.

Your tongue was almost out, your pussy still quivering, your clit so sensitive that even the feeling of his pubic hair brushing against it felt incredibly intense.

“Gonna fuck that tight little pussy till your loose, so that everytime you touch yourself your fingers would be too small for your gaping hole.” he grunted, his hands holding both of your wrists above your head, his other hand gripping your throat. He was fucking you so hard that your body was bouncing up. He crouched down to lick your sweaty neck, then moved down to your underarm, licking your sweat messily. You tried to move your arms, but his hold was firm, licking your other underarm and creating a huge wet mess.

“I-I’m close,” you choked, chasing another orgasm, overwhelmed by how many times you had come—you were certain your pussy would be numb after this.

“Hold it, you slut.” he bit the swell of your breast causing you to scream.

He held your body up, then laid down on the bed while holding your waist, placing you on top of him.

“Ride my cock.”

Desperate for release, you positioned your body in front of him, but Jungkook stopped you.

“On your back, babygirl.” he tapped your thighs.

Your cheeks reddened as you positioned your body with your back facing him. When you sank down, you immediately moaned, your ass against his lower stomach. The stretch felt so good, the veins on his cock filling your spongey walls perfectly.

“That’s it, make daddy proud.” he groaned, holding your waist while you moved up and down on him. Your legs were aching, but you didn’t care. When you felt his right tattooed hand slapping your ass, you almost came.

“You look so pretty.” you heard him whisper, his hand caressing your ass, your brows furrowed when his hand went deeper.  “Lower your body for me.”

Confused and a bit dazed, you lowered your body while still riding him. You shrieked loudly when his fingers played with your exposed rim, circling around the hole. You held his thighs, squeezing them hard when he tried to push his thumb in, the stretch making you shiver.

“Would you let me fuck you here, baby?’’ he whispered, pushing this thumb deeper, your tight walls swallowing him.

You haven’t done that before—you can’t even imagine it. He was the first man who touched you there. You were in so deep that you desperately nodded, clenching around his cock as the thought excited you.

He chuckled, “You’re so dirty baby, gonna let me fill all your holes hmm?”

You nodded again. “Yes, only for you J-Jungkook.”

“Yeah? you love me that much huh? I bet you hump your little cooky plushies thinking it’s my hard cock instead.”

He removed his thumb from your ass just to insert his middle and index finger, causing you to scream at the stretch. "Tell me baby, how many times have you masturbated huh?" Your movements slowed down from the sensation.

“Do you fantasize about me? Fantasize about your bias fucking your slutty holes?’’ he taunted, pushing his fingers deeper, his hips pushing up to meet your thrusts.

It was embarrassing; you didn’t answer, afraid to admit the dirty things you did every time you thought of Jungkook—afraid to admit how dirty you were behind your shy demeanor and innocent looks. You liked him so much, idolized him for years, dreamed about meeting him, dreamed about attending his concert, and in your most hidden fantasies… you dreamed about being his girlfriend, what it feels like to be loved by him, to be fucked by him.

“Hmm, baby? I bet you do,” he chuckled.

He removed his fingers, slapping your ass cheeks, then flipping you down onto the bed. “My dirty little girl, touching her little holes while thinking about her bias.”

You couldn’t maintain eye contact, your fingers fiddling with the sheets when he went down to grind his cock against your pussy, both of his arms beside your head.

“Aww baby, are you shy?” he cooed, pushing his cock inside you, trying to find the angle that hits your spot.

You pouted, your eyes a bit hesitant. He held your cheeks so you would look at him. “Don’t worry… daddy’s here, I’m gonna fuck you so good and make your dreams come true.” 

He spit into your parted mouth, urging you to swallow before fucking mercilessly into your tight hole. He held your thighs, almost folding you in half. Your pussy was so stretched and swollen. He leaned down to whisper moans in your ear, his movements so fast you were impressed by his stamina at this point.

“Cum with me baby,” he panted, his thrusts getting sloppy, his mushroom tip hitting the right spot.

Jungkook forced you into another orgasm. You thought you wouldn’t cum, but your pussy was pulsating so badly, his cock still drilling inside you.

He let out a strained growl, his breathing turning heavier with each passing second. When you felt him cumming, he removed his cock from your pussy… quickly inserting it into your other unused hole.

You screamed loudly, the stretch sudden and painful… you could feel his cock pushing his cum deep inside your ass, the sensation making you shake and cry. When you tried to move, he held your waist tightly, balls snug so he could keep his warm cum inside.

He kissed your cheek, “So good for me, so pretty, so tight.” he whispered.

You thought he was done, but when he kissed you hard, his tongue dominating yours, you realized he wasn’t fully sated yet. He pulled you onto the nearest table, bending you over, your hands gripping it for support.

“Lift your leg here, baby,” he instructed, lifting your other leg so you were exposed to him.

The memories were hazy—you remembered him fucking you on the table while your cheeks burned red from the way he pushed you down. You could see the reflection in the mirror, your doll shoes still intact, the table wet from your drool. After that, he fucked your breasts, urging you to suck the tip like a good little whore.

Every time you thought he was done, he would pull you back again, whispering dirty praises about how you were such a good slut for him. His stamina was so impressive, and you were also impressed that you managed to stay awake the whole time.

Even when he was washing you up, he was very sweet, washing your hair and body, yet his fingers were still trailing down your swollen pussy. You protested, but he told you not to worry, saying, “Don’t worry baby, I’m gonna rub the pain away,” while rubbing your pussy in slow circles, causing you to release another orgasm in the shower.

Before you drifted off to sleep, you felt him spreading your legs, whispering. “Last one pretty girl, let me leave you a present when you wake up, yeah? All nice and wet in the morning.” 

It felt almost unreal—like something pulled from a dream you weren’t fully ready to believe had happened.

When you woke up, Jungkook was no longer there.

Your body felt heavy, drained in a way that made even small movements difficult. You shifted under the covers, blinking slowly as reality started to settle in piece by piece.

The room was quiet. Still.

When you sat up, your gaze fell to your doll shoes placed neatly nearby. 

You stared at them for a long moment, your chest tightening in a way you couldn’t quite explain. A quiet reminder that last night had not been a dream.

You weakly stood up, wearing a comfy oversized shirt you were certain was his. Walking over to the table, you noticed a set of breakfast meals laid out—eggs, waffles, bacon, fruits, and a pitcher of orange juice.

Still a bit dazed, you sat down on the couch and stared at the food in front of you, your mind struggling to catch up with reality. Last night still felt distant, almost unreal—like something your brain hadn’t fully accepted yet. But every time you shifted slightly and felt the marks on your skin, the memory returned sharply.

It was real.

You knew the rules. You would never see him again, you would never contact him again, and anything that happened that night would stay with you—carried quietly, taken to your grave.

Your eyes grew teary, not because you regretted it, but because some part of you wished it didn’t end so quickly.

Wished it lasted longer.

You knew better—that you and him were not in a fairytale. You wouldn’t be the special girl who eventually ends up with him. You weren’t inside some ridiculous fanfiction where he would text you afterward, telling you he missed you, that he wanted to see you again, that he might even love you. Pure fiction.

Looking at the food in front of you, your eyes caught a small folded paper tucked beside the plate.

When you opened it, you had expected something sweet—maybe a cute note, maybe his number. You already knew the number he used wasn’t personal anyway, just an exclusive one-night line tied to the NDA.

“Dollshoes.”

It was written quickly, but you recognized his handwriting immediately.

You looked around and spotted a paper bag beside the bed. You stood up at once, walking towards it, your hands already shaking before you even reached it.

Carefully, you opened it.

Inside was a pair of glittery doll shoes.

You searched for a note, but there was none.

You pouted slightly, your heart still skipping at the small gesture. It wasn’t much—but it was something. At least he had left something for you.

It had been months since that night, but you would never forget it.

You told no one—not Mina, not anyone, not even in passing. You were almost afraid that speaking it out loud would make it less real… or worse, make you forget it entirely, reducing it to something that only felt like a dream.

Over the months, something else slowly clicked into place.

While reviewing your notes one day, your eyes drifted absentmindedly to your tote bag. Only then did you notice the small cooky keychain attached to it.

It had to have been what his manager saw.

A quiet sense of relief settled in you then—knowing that despite changing bags since that day, you had never taken it off.

You also tried to think harder—why did he give you a pair of doll shoes? Does he do that with all his hookups? Does he give them a farewell gift too after sleeping with them?

The thought left a strange mix in your chest. A little sadness. A little jealousy you couldn’t quite justify.

And yet, the doll shoes still felt like a strong reminder that you were once his—like he gave you something so you wouldn’t forget him.

Sometimes you would even wonder if everything that happened was only your imagination. His manager’s contact number, Jungkook’s number—gone from your phone. The NDA had included a strict no-contact clause, and everything tied to that night had disappeared with it.

Afterward, you didn’t see them anymore, and you had no idea whether they had even stayed in the country or left immediately.

The moment the marks on your body began to fade, you almost cried—like something of him was slowly slipping away from you too.

Wearing the doll shoes he gave you, you sat in a nice outdoor coffee shop with your laptop and a hot latte.

It had been almost a year.

Despite the beautiful view around you, your attention was fixed on your screen. You were writing a paper—your fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment longer than necessary, like they understood something you didn’t want to admit.

You had been careful. Writing the details with precaution.

You changed the places, the countries, the names. You rewrote reality until it no longer belonged to anyone but you. Until it couldn’t be traced back—not to him, not to that night, not to the NDA that should have never felt real in the first place.

You even made sure to hide it in plain sight.

Just another fanfiction.

Just another story.

Just enough to protect yourself.

Just enough to protect him.

Your foot tapped lightly beneath the table, uneven, restless. A habit you picked up a year ago. A habit you never lost.

And then you wrote it—the memory still too fresh to feel like a memory at all.

“Please, please, please!” you whispered to yourself, fingers crossed tightly as you stared at the three screens in front of you.

And for a brief second—you wondered if anyone would believe it was just fiction.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂˚₊┈┈୨୧┈┈‧₊˚⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂

© 2026 ggukiebar, all rights reserved

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[domjaehyun]

crybaby → l.mk, l.dh, n.jm

PAIRING: hyuck x mark x jaemin x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 11k

GENRE: smuuut, it’s smut, seriously stop reading this line it’s smut that’s all there is to it, jk a bit of fluff surprise!

CONTENTS: dacryphilia, sadistic doms, choking, manhandling, brat taming, light daddy kink, overstimulation, oral (receiving & giving), foursome, degradation, some praise kink, reader’s kind of a lil hoe but it’s okay because we love her anyway, hyuck favoritism (because…come on…it’s hyuck), uh…the 00 line has been aged up one year (or Mark’s been aged down) so they’re all the same class year!

SUMMARY: When Donghyuck, Jaemin, and Mark find out they aren’t the only ones you’ve been talking to, they decide to take matters into their own hands.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: JK Rowling is a pathetic excuse for a human being, so we’re gonna pretend she didn’t write this series. It’s also totally fine if you don’t know Harry Potter stuff; I do my best to explain everything for you!! If you still have questions, you can always Google them or send a message to my inbox! This is also…kind of…a (late) birthday present for Raya @gohyuck​ 🥰 I hope you like it, Raya! Happy birthday; I hope your day was filled with love and light and happiness like you deserve! I love you! Also, everyone: please leave feedback if you liked it! It really means a lot to me when I check reblogs and see things in the tags or I get messages about my works!

“Psst.”

You roll your eyes and focus on stirring the liquid in your cauldron. Your potion is supposed to be a lovely scarlet shade, but right now it’s a murky grey. You sigh and pour in the suggested amount of dittany, a pleased smile forming on your face when the potion bubbles and fizzes and turns the appropriate shade of red.

“Psst!”

“Hm. Well done.” Professor Snape says with an air of reluctance in his tone as he walks by your desk and peers into your cauldron. A proud smile takes over your face, and you keep stirring your cauldron, humming softly to yourself. The sun filters through the foggy windows–you can’t recall the last time you or anyone else saw Filch cleaning them, honestly–and brightens up the dreary classroom, made all the drearier by Professor Snape and his no-nonsense, downright hostile ambiance. 

“Pretty girl, are you sure you want me to raise my voice and have everyone hear what I’m about to say to you?”

Keep reading

[satorusdreamer]

Count rice, bitch!

Sypnosis: After a horrible night of going out, your friend leaves you stranded at the club. Going home, you encounter a certain white-haired man. When he gets too close and grins with those too-sharp teeth, you do the only logical thing your drunken mind can think of: throw a bag of rice at him.

Pairing: Vampire!Gojo x Human!reader

Tags/Content Warnings: MDNI/18+ only, SMUT SMUT SMUT!!! Porn with plot, a bit of fear play (c'mon, Satoru is a vampire, y'all have seen the way he was playing with those curses), compulsion (only to run away), usage of folklore, reader is lowk a dumb bitch (not bimbo like, just drunk), blood-drinking, dub-con (reader consenting to be bitten while drunk), oral (f receiving), unprotected P in V sex, classic 'it doesn't fit' trope, SIZE KINK SIZE KINK SIZE KINK, belly bulging, dacryphilia, permission to cum inside (hehe)

Word Count: 6.7k

A/N: Not proofread since I have a migraine, but I wanted to drop this before going to bed. Special thanks to @cactusvolumes for helping out <3 Dividers by @/pixopix & @/strangergraphic, art by @/somedeimi on x.

You’re stumbling out of the club, absolutely wasted. The world spins around you, pavement dipping to the side, despite it being flat. Your ankle rolls once, making you almost crash into a pole.

A laugh bubbles out of your throat before you can stop it. It vibrates on your tongue, just like the bass vibrated your bones while inside the club.

Why are you laughing again?

You fumble through your purse for your phone, trying to text your friend that' you’re outside. Fingers touching different things in your purse—a lipgloss, a loose tampon, your hairbrush, a bag that crinkles when the pads of your fingers skim over it, and finally your phone, the glass smooth against your fingertips.

Then the thought slams into you, unwelcome and sharp. ‘Naoya and I are dating now,’ your friend had whispered shouted in your ear while you were on the dancefloor with her. Your entire body locking up, hips freezing in place.

Right. That’s why you drank more than you should’ve. Your friend casually admitting she’s dating your piece-of-shit ex-boyfriend.

You lean your forehead against the cold metal of the pole. Another laugh slips out. This time dry and hollow. There’s nothing funny about any of this. The entire situation is fucked up.

She left the club not soon after she admitted to you about dating your ex, not satisfied with your reaction to her ‘news’. What a fucking bitch. You close your eyes, still leaning against the pole, and everything spins, as if you’re laundry in a dryer.

Opening your eyes you push off the pole. Taking three steps, you stumble again. Stupid fucking heels. With an annoyed grunt you crouch down to yank them off, only to promptly fall onto your ass. Huffing through your nose you sit down so you can better access your heels.

Eventually you wrangle the heels off. Standing again you brush down the back of your dress with one hand while the other dangles your shoes from your fingers.

This time you start walking home—still stumbling around, but no longer rolling your ankles with it.

The Tokyo streets glow with sodium lamps and neon signs that are blinking overhead. The streets are mostly empty, aside from a few stragglers and drunks passed out along the sidewalk.

It isn’t until ten minutes into your walk that you feel it—eyes. You glance around, confused. There’s no one you can see, just a small cat on the other side of the street that isn’t even watching you, finding more interest in it’s own paw. Shrugging you keep walking.

Five minutes later you cut into a narrow alley. A shortcut home you normally take after a night out with the girls, granted they are with you—safety in numbers or something. Your drunken mind isn’t really concerned with that right now, though. Your feet are cold, small stones digging into your toes where you’re walking, and you’re lucky you haven’t encountered something sharp yet.

A little bit further into the dark alley you feel it again, that heavy sense of being watched. Whipping your head around you see someone stand at the end of the alleyway. The person’s silhouette completely black, except for the stark white hair that’s illuminated by the streetlight from above. The second thing you note is how tall they are. And the third thing you notice is the eyes—they’re glowing. Piercing blue looking over at you.

He’s just… staring at you. But when he sees you looking at him, he takes a step towards you. Then another. And another. You back up, pointing a finger at him.

“Stay there!” you bark out, finger trembling slightly. “Stay,” you repeat, firmer. The man halts, one pale eyebrow lifting in amusement.

“That’s right. Good boy.” If you were sober, you’d cringe at calling a stranger good boy, but right now all you can think of is that you’re drunk, barefoot, in an alley, and this guy is, what—seven feet tall?

His face becomes clearer now, a bit of moonlight illuminating some of the planes of his face. His skin is porcelain-like, eyes like a kaleidoscope of every blue imaginable, and a smirk is on his face, clearly enjoying this entire interaction.

Right, you’re staring. You clear your throat. “I-I’m going now. You just… stay there.”

He only crosses his arms and leans against the wall, still watching. You slowly nod your head, taking a small step back. Okay, good, he’s staying right where he is. Where you told him to stay. Turning around you nearly scream bloody murder.

He’s right there.

A gasp slips from your lips, mouth dropping open while your eyes bug out of your skull. Did the alcohol in your system fuck you up so bad you somehow turned around slow enough for him to walk in front of you without you noticing it?

You crane your neck up to look at him, stumbling back slightly with the change of your head, before you steady yourself again. He’s smiling down at you, and it’s a nice smile, honestly. It would’ve been charming, if not for the fangs. They’re long, sharp, and very obvious.

Alarm bells blare in your head, muffled slightly by the badum badum badum of your heart in your ears. Impossibly blue eyes, inhuman speed, and now fangs.

“Vampire,” you whisper, voice barely audible.

The stranger’s smile widens. “Ding, ding, ding, sweetheart.”

You swallow hard, of course this would happen to you today out of all days, after being told your friend is fucking your ex and leaving you stranded, alone, in the club.

Your hand slips into your bag, fingers fumbling, digging, trying to search for the bag you had touched earlier that night. But the more you keep fumbling, the harder your heart is starting to beat. Did you make up the fact that you had the bag with you? He notices the motion, of course he does.

“Oh? Gonna pepper spray me? Call a friend?” there’s clear amusement in his voice, “Newsflash, sweetheart, I’m way too fast for that.”

Your fingers keep searching. Come on, come on, come on— There. The pads of your fingers skim over the plastic bag, and it crinkles under the motion. Bingo.

Your heart slams against your ribcage. God, please let that dumb folklore be right. You grab the bag an dump it onto the ground, a soft thud sounds through the alley as thousands of rice grains scatter across the tiles.

The vampire’s head snaps down. He stares for a few seconds, blinks, then crouches. He mutters something under his breath and begins to count, fast—really fucking fast.

You stare at this seven-foot, hulking creature for a few more seconds. Then you take one step back, and another, and another. Then you run, feet pounding against the floor down the alley.

You risk a glance over your shoulder, just hoping he isn’t fast enough to count all of that within seconds. Big mistake. He’s still counting, luckily. But… he looks kind of cute doing it, nevermind the part where he’s a seven-foot vampire.

You slow down, feet coming to a halt, before you turn back and walk up just enough to grab your phone from where it fell onto the ground.

Click.

He doesn’t look up, but the twitch of his fingers tell you he heard it. “Cute.”

Gojo has never seen something like this before. He didn’t expect to be pelted with grains of rice by a cute drunk girl he’d set his sights on the moment she stumbled out of the club. Worse, he has the compelling urge to count them all. He isn’t sure why, all he knows is that he has to count them.

It’s something he’ll look into when he gets home.

It was a smart move on your part, clearly having read some sort of vampire lore before—unless you throw rice at every creep you encounter. However you came back, feet still bare, one of your heels lay abandoned further down the alleyway.

Then you whispered something about how cute he was, as if he isn’t a whole seven feet of vampire.

Now? Now you’re sitting across from him, feet still bare and dirty with grime and small pebbles stuck to your toes—how you haven’t noticed is beyond him—heel danling from your fingers, and your dress is riding up your thighs.

You’re mumbling incoherently about your ex and your friend, not that he’s paying attention to it, all his focus is on the stupid grains of rice.

He isn’t sure why you aren’t running. You know he’s a vampire, having seen his speed, his fangs, his eyes—hell, you even whispered it, vampire. Yet you’re still sitting here, in front of him, as if you’re keeping him company.

He knows you’re drunk, he can smell it on your breath, and if that wasn’t the dead giveaway then the stumbling and walking back to a fucking vampire would be. No one would do that shit when they’re sober.

You’re recounting a story about your ex now, gesturing wildly into the cool night-air. He’s had to restart his count a total of three times already because you keep distracting him. The first time you accidentally kicked the pile when you went to sit down, apologising to him for fucking it up.

The second time you ‘accidentally’ smacked his arm when telling him something. You’d said it was accidental because you were gesturing, but he thinks it’s because he wasn’t paying attention to your story.

He can only hope that the third time just works out for him, because he really wants to sink his fangs into your glistening skin—apart from the sweat you’d certainly built up in the club there’s something else to it, maybe a shimmer you’d applied before leaving for the club earlier today.

He only has a few hundred grains of rice left when your phone rings. And just like anything else tonight, you pick it up without any hesitation.

Gojo can hear a man on the other side of the line, saying something snarky. He isn’t tuned into the conversation, but his ears could hear everything if he wanted to, but he’s still counting, and he’d rather focus on that and finally feed himself than listen to whatever is being said by you or the man.

3124 3125 3126 3127… He’s about to count the last grain of rice when you suddenly flip the phone to him, screen illuminating his skin in a mix of blue and green. 3159 grains of rice, all counted.

He finally looks up and sees a guy filling your screen. Faux blond hair with green roots, brown eyes, and a smirk on his face that quickly morphs into something else. Then you turn your phone back to yourself, slurring out a, “See, ‘m with someone. Now leave m’ alone, asshole.”

Gojo hears the call disconnect, sees the way your screen goes dark. The only light illuminating your skin now is the pale moonlight. Then you take a deep breath and promptly fling yourself backward onto the ground.

“See what I have to deal with?” your eyes find his, a small pout formed on your face while your brows furrow. Gojo doesn’t say anything, just looks at you with those piercing blue eyes. He crosses his arms over his chest and clears his throat. “I’m gonna give you a twenty-second head start, sweetheart. If I were you I’d take it.”

Your brows furrow in confusion this time, nose crinkling slightly. God, you really forgot, didn’t you?

He heaves a sigh and opens his mouth just enough to show his fangs. They glint in the moonlight, showing of just how sharp they are. You squint your eyes a bit, then they open wide again.

“Vampire,” you whisper again, voice fully trembling. But then you groan, it rumbles through your chest a bit, and kick your feet a little. “I don’ wanna runnnn.”

Gojo has to close his eyes for a second and take a deep breath. He likes the chase that comes from when people are afraid of him. Likes it even more when his prey think they can outrun him. They can’t, but he sure does like having them believe they can. Blood always tastes sweeter when there’s a hint of fear involved, after all.

He opens his eyes again and looks straight at you. Then he leans in a little, breath just shy of ghosting the shell of your ear.

“Run,” he whispers, voice sticky sweet as honey. He can see the way your eyes gloss over a bit. Then you’re scrambling upward, and dart out of the alley—your other heel clattering to the ground.

Gojo, true to his word, waits a full twenty seconds. Then he’s in front of you again, making you yelp and dash away again, stumbling over your own feet a little, crashing into the wall, scraping your hand on the rough stones.

The cat and mouse game continues for what he thinks is a full ten minutes. He can hear your heart pounding, blood rushing through your body, and your whispers of ‘Please don’t kill me, I’m way too hot’ and ‘I should’ve stayed home’ and ‘He is kinda cute, though.’

He ignores that last one.

It isn’t until you stumble up the steps of a house where he catches you. His broad chest pressed to your back, one arm wrapped tightly around your waist, fingers dipping into your sides,, while the other is planted next to your head on the door.

“Gotcha,” he whispers into your hair. You’re trembling in his grip, knees almost buckling out form under you. You’re pressed flat against the front door of your house.

You were so close, all you had to do was open it and you would’ve been fine.

You can feel the way his pecs are squished against your back. He’s hunched over you, entire frame leaning down so he can nose against your hair. His muscles are bulging out of his shirt, making you press your thighs together.

It’s a weird mixture of fear and arousal that’s shooting through you. You know he’s a vampire, know he can kill you in an instant—and maybe he will drain you of all your blood—but he’s also so tall. His entire hand splayed out over your tummy now.

He chuckles when he notices the way you’re pressing your thighs together. His cold breath fanning over your skin, almost like a night breeze caressing your face. “You gonna let me in, sweets?”

You know you shouldn’t. Know you should try to get out of his cold, undead grip as fast as you can. The door is right there, one step and you’d be free of him. One big step, you’d just have to get out of his grasp. Sure he has bulging muscles and probably inhuman strength, but you can twist your way out of this, can’t you? Just do a little shimmy and free yourself.

The big hand that’s on your stomach can’t possibly keep you right there, pressed against him, can it? Nevermind the fact that he has such thick forearms and biceps and triceps even Greek Gods would be jealous of.

Turning a bit to the left, you try to see if you have any wiggle room, only for him to chuckle once more. His fingers dig into your flesh a bit harder now, indenting the skin where he touches you. Welp, there goes your plan, straight out the window.

“Promise not to kill me?” You don’t dare to look at him, afraid his eyes will put you under a spell yet again. You know you should’ve ran the first time he told you to, but you were too out of your mind to fully grasp the situation. “Mhmm, just want some of your blood.”

That seems… reasonable enough. You fumble with your keys slightly, still trembling in your grip, the keys and keychains clinking against each other. It’s the only sound in the entire street, everyone else already being in bed—which is no surprise, considering you left the club at… three or something like that.

When you finally slot your keys into the hole, you twist it open, pushing the door open to your dark hallway.

You’re about to set a foot into your house when the guy tugs you back against his chest. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Right, he’s a vampire and not just some random hookup you dragged home. A very handsome vampire, though. If you’re going out, at least it’s by a hottie. Oh fuck, he really can just kill you. I mean, he just said he wouldn’t, but he can lie about it. Then again, he could’ve killed you ten times over already.

“What’s your name?” That seems to catch him off-guard. Blinking a few times, those baby blues looking you over in wonder a few times, and you can’t help but melt into him a bit—only for you to stand up straight again when you feel how fucking cold he is.

“Satoru,” is all he mumbles out, fangs poking out slightly. He really is cute for a terrifying creature.

Nodding your head you nudge the door open even further, extending your hand into your house with a flourish. “Come in, Satoru.”

The next second you’re picked up before he all but throws you onto your couch, your body bouncing a bit before he’s on you. A yelp leaves your lips, heart pounding out of your ribs, fingers shaking slightly, breaths heavy.

Right, he is a vampire with inhuman speed and strength. Your pupils dilate a bit, hairs standing on edge when he grins down at you with those too-sharp canines. His eyes almost seem to glow in this moment, face shadowed completely.

You’re frozen in place, reality settling in like someone poured a cold cup of water over your head to sober you up.

You just invited a vampire into your house. To drink your blood. Way to fucking go.

“Ready, sweets?” He murmurs down at you, picking up your hand where it lies limp beside you on the couch, pulse hammering in your ears. He brings your fingers up to his mouth, before wrapping his lips around the bloodied appendages, tongue laving over the wounds there. You’d honestly forgotten you even had them—too busy running away from him to notice just how scratched up your clammy palms were.

His saliva stings your skin, making you pull away, only for him to hold your wrist in place. He licks a broad stripe from your palms up to your fingers, leaving behind a red trail—blood and saliva mixed together.

When you don’t answer he grins a bit wider, lips slightly red by your blood. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

With that he surges forward, one strong arm wrapping around your waist to keep you from squirming while the other quickly brushes away the hairs that are falling over your shoulder. His fangs puncture your skin just above your collarbone, and it feels like your nerves are on fire.

Your mouth opens in a scream, only to have it clamped shut by a big palm. Tears spring to your eyes, fat drops falling down the apples of your cheeks before they drip from your jawline onto the couch below.

You can feel the way your blood is leaving you. Satoru is sucking on the wound hard enough to make your eyes roll to the back of your skull—not in pleasure, but in pain. Pure agony running through your veins now.

From all the vampire lore, you whished the aphrodisiac bite was at least true. But instead of pleasure surging through you, it’s pain. Pure pain. You can feel the way your body jerks from the sensation, but Satoru just tightens his hold onto you, pushing you further into the couch.

The last thing you see before the dark takes ahold of you is the blue glow emitting from his eyes, casting the two of you in a soft, blue glare, making his pale hair stand out against the darkness of the room.

You wake up surrounded by softness. Blinking a few times you register just where you are—your own bed. Your pillow is soft and fluffy under your head, and your blanket is keeping you warm. Your head is absolutely pounding, a dull thud behind your eyes making you groan.

Just how much did you have to drink last night?

Thinking back on the night before, you can remember bits and pieces. You went out with your friend to celebrate… something, only for her to leave you alone at the club later that night.

Why did she leave you alone again?

Racking your brain, you try to fill in the gaps as good as you can. You remember drinking and dancing. Hips moving to the beat—well you tried to, but you probably were off-beat if you’re going to be honest—while your friend was laughing with you.

Then she leaned forward with a smile on her face and murmured something in your ear. What the fuck did she say that she had to leave?

You furrow your brows, closing your eyes once more. Right, right, it’s coming all back to you now. She told you she was dating Naoya out of all people. Even after you’d told her every minute detail about that scumbag, she still chose to be with him, destroying your trust in the process.

Fucking bitch. And then she just up and left you there to get home by yourself.

Okay, now you know why your head is pounding—having drank waayyy too much alcohol to at least have a good night by yourself. But how did you get home?

You pat around your bed to search for your phone, twisting your neck to look to your left side, only for a hiss to leave your lips when you feel just how much your neck hurts. Your hand shoots to the spot, only to find gauze under your fingertips.

Gauze? Why is there gauze on your neck out of all places.

You rub your head with your other hand, only to feel small scabs on your fingertips. Opening your eyes you look at your hand, only to see it being scabbed over at some places.

Right, you scratched your hand on the wall when running away from that cute vampire. …Wait, what??

Sitting up you look around your room, to hopefully see said vampire, but he’s nowhere to be found. A laugh bubbles up in your chest and leaves your lips. A vampire, how stupid is that. Your drunken mind probably made all of that up.

Seeing a weird silhouette in an alleyway sure is scary, so you just began to run back home. Yeah, yeah that must be it. Your drunken mind having conjured up a whole story about a guy that doesn’t exist. Vampires aren’t real; they’re just myths made up to scare children.

So why is there gauze on your collarbone?

Your head is pounding all the same, these silly questions surely can wait until after you had some water, or coffee.

Standing up you’re about to walk downstairs when you hear someone… humming? Your shoulders immediately tense up, feet planting themselves in their place. Why is there someone in your house?

Grabbing the nearest object—a vase with fake flowers, because nowadays it’s too much to ask guys to get you some flowers—you tiptoe down the stairs, careful to not make a sound. It’s one thing if there’s someone in your house, it’s another when they know you’re there.

On the last step you hear someone call out to you. “Oh, you’re awake. That’s good!”

You nearly drop the vase in shock, fingers slipping slightly, before you tighten your grip again. Your heart hammering out of your chest, goosebumps littering your skin, and before you can even do anything, a tall, white-haired man walks into view.

And suddenly everything from last night slams back into you. No, your mind hadn’t simply made up Satoru, it’s real. The gauze on your throat a bitter reminder that there are, in fact, vampires roaming the earth.

“What the fuck are you still doing in my house?” you ask him, setting the vase down onto your kitchen counter before walking up to him. You poke your finger against his arm, testing to see if he really is real, or if you might still be drunk. “You’re real, right?”

Gojo just chuckles at you, his fangs poking through his lips at your question. His fingers wrap themselves around your wrist—ice cold to the touch, making you tremble slightly from just how cold they are—stopping you from poking him any further.

“Duh, you can’t make up a face this pretty.” He gestures to his face with a small pout on his face. Okay, conceited much. You scrunch your nose up at that, looking him dead in the eye—the same eyes that glowed last night while he was feasting on you - is that the correct term? You’re not sure, but you don’t really care, either.

“As for your question, I stayed because I might’ve drained you a bit too much. The alcohol in your system made your blood thinner, so I had a harder time gauging just how much I drank. So I stayed to be certain you wouldn’t pass awa— anyway. Alcohol makes your blood taste bitter, by the way, Certainly didn’t help you weren’t as afraid as I wanted you to be,” he mumbles that last part under his breath.

“Not as afraid as you wanted me to be? I thought my heart was gonna crawl out of my mouth— can you let go of me? You’re cold as fuck,” you try to tug your wrist out of his grasp, only for him to tighten it just slightly, slender fingers enclosing around your wrist.

Grinning he leans down slightly, back hunched just slightly as he looks you in the eye. “Why? You didn’t seem to mind me touching you last night.”

You inhale sharply, the memory of him pressed against your back flooding your mind. His strong chest pressed against your back while his hand was splayed out over your tummy making you all hot and bothered— no, you can’t think like this, fucking stop it.

“Yeah, well, that was just me being drunk,” you mumble out.

He takes a step forward, and another, while you walk backwards, until your back hits the wall. The wall scratching your back slightly, straightening your spine. His hand plants itself next to your head, leaning forward until his nose is almost brushing yours. “You sure that’s all it was? I’m hurt, sweets. You’re saying you don’t find me cute anymore?”

Gulping you press your thighs together, your panties damp under your sleeping shorts, core hot and achy. There’s no denying he’s hot—not quite cute as you called him last night—but should you really do this? He’s a vampire, hot, sure, but still a bloodsucking creature. His grin widens when his eyes flick down to your thighs.

You know you shouldn’t do this. It’s irresponsible, downright stupid, but you can’t deny to yourself that he’s making you horny by just existing.

And suddenly a thought enters your mind, like someone whispered in your ear. Your friend—now ex-friend—is dating your ex. It makes your stomach flip a few times, trying to make sense of the situation you’re in right now.

Fuck it.

Your hands find his pecs that are flexed with the way he’s standing, fabric doing little to hide them. Your finger trails down to his abdomen where you can feel the clearly built muscles. You bat your lashes at him, tilting your head just slightly. “And what if I said I thought you were hot?”

“Then I’d ask to have another taste— a different taste this time,” he murmurs down at you. That’s all you needed, fisting the fabric of his shirt and pulling him down to meet you. Lips crashing against each other in a messy battle of teeth and tongue.

He groans into your mouth, carefully nipping at your lower lip, puncturing it slightly. He sucks on the little droplets of blood before he claims your mouth once more. Copper filling your taste buds, making you moan out slightly.

Then he suddenly picks you up, hands under your thighs while yours find purchase at his broad shoulders, clutching onto them, nails digging into his skin just slightly. He chuckles against your mouth, “I’m not going to drop you.”

And true to his word, he doesn’t drop you, but he does bring you upstairs at speeds you’ve never dreamed of having. He carefully lays you down onto the bed, matrass groaning under both your weight just slightly.

His lips disconnect from yours, and he has to keep himself from groaning out at the sight of your bloodied, kiss-bitten lips. All swollen for him. Gojo peppers featherlight kisses down your throat, until they find the gauze just above your collarbone.

Yelping you look down at him. He’s grinning up at you, blue eyes crinkling slightly while he carefully places another kiss onto the gauze. “That hurts, dickhead.”

“Hmmm, just showing my little blood bag some appreciation,” he purrs before his lips trail further down, all the way until he’s seated onto the floor, cold breath ghosting on your thighs, leaving behind slight goosebumps. “I’m not your personal blood bag.”

He just winks up at you before pressing a kiss to the fat of your thigh. Then one a little higher, another one to the apex of your thigh, and one on your hipbone. You’re squirming out at the feeling of his lips—cold to the touch, but oh so careful.

His fingers hook around your pajama shorts, looking up at you for permission. When you nod he pulls them off you, leaving you in your panties. His pupils dilate when they see the wet spot, “You’re soaked. All this for me?”

Rolling your eyes you look down at him, leaning on your elbows. “How about you touch me instead of being such a conc— oh fuck,” your head lolls back onto your shoulderblades, eyes fluttering shut slightly. His thumb presses onto your clit.

“What was that, sweetheart?” he chuckles when you moan out at the pressure he applies through your panties, thumb circling your twitchy clit. “That’s what I thought.”

He leans down to lick a broad stripe over your panties, moaning out at the taste of you—so sweet, and oh, how he wishes you weren’t drunk last night so he could’ve had a taste of this pussy earlier—lips wrapping around your nub and sucking on it slightly.

“Shit. Fuck— Satoru, right there,” your hand finds his head, fingers threading through his silky locks, pulling on them slightly when he sucks even harder, cheeks hollowing out. Pleasure shoots right through your core, thighs threatening to snap shut. Something that doesn’t go unnoticed by the white-haired man under you, big palms clasping your thighs and keeping them spread riiight open for him. “Just get those panties out of the way already!”

He releases his lips with a pop, making you sigh out. Grinning up at you, one of his fingers comes up to your swollen folds, rubbing them slightly—still with that damn fabric in the way.

“Someone’s eager. You want me to get rid of these cute panties?” He tilts his head slightly before his fingers creep further upwards,, until they hook into them, making you think he’s finally going to get them off you. Instead he pulls the fabric upward, stretching it over your poor twitchy cunt, “But they look so good on you— yeahhh look at that.”

His eyes are zeroed in on where the fabric disappears between your pussy lips slightly, stretching the fabric even further until you’re pushing at his head, whining out.

“Please, please just get them off,” you whine out, tears gathering in your eyes from the way he’s just playing with you, taking his sweet time while your hole is pulsing around nothing. He chuckles once more before letting the fabric snap! against your skin, having you gasp out.

“Guess I should give this pretty pussy what she deserves, huh?” He gives a few taps to your clit, thighs twitching with each pass of his fingers, before he finally hooks a finger around the gusset and pulls it aside, revealing your cunt to the open air.

Without any preamble he dives in, tongue flat against your twitchy clit. Your back immediately arches with the swipe of his tongue—this time without any fabric between the muscle and your aching clit.

One of his slender, cold fingers plunges itself into your soppy hole. Your fingers tighten in his hair, tugging on it slightly, moaning out at the intrusion. “Fuck— right there.”

He thrusts his finger in and out of you before adding another one. The cold touch such a stark contrast to your hot, needy core it has you keen out. Your legs are trembling in his hold, one of them still spread open by his other hand, while your own creeps down to hold your other leg open for him.

“Such a good girl,” he mumbles out against your core, pleasure shooting through you. He curls those long digits inside of you, trying to find that one spot inside of you while he very lightly nips on your clit, your walls clamping down on his digits. His fingers keep thrusting and curling inside of you, finding finding findi— you loudly moan into the air, head thrown back. Found it.

“F-fuck, Satoru, keep them there ‘m so close,” you sob out, thighs tensing up slightly while he continuously hits your g-spot with perfect precision. Your orgasm crashes over you, tiny fireworks exploding in your tummy. “Cumming— cumming.”

He stays down there, lapping up the slick that’s gushing out of you. Cold tongue dipping into your hole alongside his fingers, opening you up even further for him.

You go limp in his hold a minute later, and he finally detaches himself from your mound—lips shiny with spit and your arousal. Then he pulls his fingers from your hole, stringy juices webbing between his fingers when he spreads them, looking at them in wonder, before putting them in his mouth and moaning out at the sweet, sweet taste that’s you.

“Think you’re ready for me, baby?” He stands up already unbuckling his belt, and you have to swallow once you see his bulge. Fuck. He’s ginormous. You shouldn’t be surprised, this guy is seven-feet tall, everything about him is enormous compared to you, but still you can’t help the way your eyes are almost bulging out of your skull.

He pulls out his cock—angry, red tip swollen and glistening with pre—and wraps his fist around it, giving it a few tugs.

“That’s not gonna fit inside of me,” you blurt out, eyes transfixed on where his hand is still wrapped around his dick. He smirks at that, of course he does. He’s probably heard it a million times before, but of course you had to say it.

He leans forward, tip nudging your clit, coating himself in your arousal. “Relax, it’s gonna fit.”

Gulping you lay back slightly, opening your legs even further to accommodate him. He smiles at that, one hand clamping around your waist while the other guides his member towards your entrance. Taking a deep breath in, he pushes inside your fluttering walls.

A high-pitched moan leaves your lips, sweat breaking on your skin. The stretch is unbelievable—your walls fluttering uselessly around him, and this was just the tip. He hisses at the feeling of your walls clamping down on him—yes, actually hisses, fangs on full display. “Fuck, loosen up baby.”

His fingers come down to your sensitive clit, rubbing on it to keep you distracted from the intrusion—not that it helps. He pushes another inch inside of you, and tears are starting to spill down from your eyes, disappearing into your hairline.

Gojo looks at you, blue eyes almost completely black now. He can feel the way his dick twitches when he sees your tears. Leaning forward he balances on one forearm, tongue lapping up your tears, groaning at the salty taste of your tears.

“You’re too big,” you squeal, hand uselessly pushing against his abdomen. He merely presses a kiss to your cheek, then to the corner of your mouth, and finally his lips claim yours, tongue tracing the seam of your sealed lips.

He stays still like that for a little while, letting you get used to the way he’s stretching you out. When he feels you loosen up slightly he pulls his hips back until just his tip remains and pushes back in again, a bit further this time.

You moan out into his mouth, legs wrapping themselves around his waist, and your hands entangle themselves in his hair. “That’s it, knew you could do it.”

With a few more thrusts he finally bottoms out, his hips meeting yours. Tears are flowing free down your face and he has to resist the urge to just bite you with how cute you looked. Fuck, what he wouldn’t do to get a taste of you again—your blood surely much sweeter now.

He looks down, only to grin. Would you look at that. “Look down, sweetheart. See how well you’re taking me?” he grips your chin between his thumb and forefinger and angles your head down. Blinking a few times you look down and—oh! The print of his cock fully visible, bulging your tummy where he’s buried.

“You’re so deep,” you mumble out, slight awe in your voice, only for a broken moan to leave your lips seconds later. Gojo pulls out and thrusts back in, tip smooching your cervix. Again. And again. And again.

A creamy ring starting to circle around his base, balls slapping against your ass with each harsh thrust. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, leaving behind crescent shaped marks. You’re sobbing out into his neck, vision blurring slightly.

“Mhmm, I know.” He presses down onto your stomach where he can feel his own cock through your womb, and it has you keen out even more. Moans and groans and the lewd plap plap plap! of his hips fill the room.

Your legs begin to tremble, cock plummeting in and out of your soppy hole, the squelch it makes has your face heat up, a pretty blush forming on your face as you feel yourself near your second orgasm. After a few more thrusts, you come around him, clear liquid gushing out of you, spraying onto his abdomen, thighs and the sheets below you. Your vision whites out completely while your back arches, mouth forming an ‘o’ that you can’t seem to close.

Satoru hisses when he feels your walls clamp down onto his girth, speeding up his thrusts slightly. “Fuck, lemme cum inside, please.”

Your mind doesn’t register his request at first, too busy trembling around him. It’s only when he starts whining that you take note of his request. “Yes, yes ‘toru. ‘S okay.”

“Shit- need you to say it. Say it out loud for me, pretty,” he pleads with you, his own thighs tensing up slightly. “Y-you can cum inside, S’toru.”

That’s all it takes. He thrusts once more before stilling, his fat tip snug against your cervix while he spills inside of you. Ropes of cum keep coming, emptying his balls inside your greedy cunt completely. His forehead dropping down to yours.

The two of you lay there for a few moments, trying to catch your breath—well, it’s just you who has to catch their breath, but Satoru stays there for you—and calm down slightly.

“Soooo, you need permission to cum inside too, huh?” you giggle at the seven-foot vampire. He just groans, eyes fluttering shut. “Shut up.”

Perm tags: @tojiscreampie @etheralpanic @yoonsucks @liliklei

JJK tags: @mousedit @sugurusbadhabit @cactusvolumes @satorusdollie @kcandy-flosz

©CursedKisss do not copy, steal, plagiarize, or feed my works into AI. I will send Mahito after you if you do.

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[1nthedarknessofthenight]

﴾ out of the blue, part two.

pairing: ot8 x f!reader, part one

genre: one-shot, idol au, smut

word count: 14,5k

warnings: gangbang ⋆ unprotected sex ⋆ hair pulling ⋆ small choking ⋆ biting ⋆ marking ⋆ ass slapping ⋆ one!pussy slap ⋆ oral (m. and f. receiving) ⋆ fingering (f. receiving) ⋆ squirting ⋆ multiple!creampie ⋆ cum eating ⋆ rimming and fingering (f. receiving) ⋆ anal ⋆ boobjob! ⋆ double penetration! ⋆ cowgirl! and reverse cowgirl!position ⋆ doggy style! and ass up, face down!position ⋆ daddy kink (guess for who) ⋆ small boy and boy action—the guys are just really close but nothing happens

summary: after some much needed alone time with your boyfriend on his birthday, you somehow forgot about his friends coming over…

author’s note: y’all was hungry for part two so here it is and thank you all for the support!

main masterlist

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You were gasping for air, hands in your lap and legs tucked underneath you as you try to make yourself as small as possible. However there is no way you could hide from any of their eyes. This whole situation shouldn’t make you feel so excited, yearning for anything to happen. This was all your boyfriend’s idea, you thought, looking at his figure sitting on your loveseat, watching all of this so innocently but you could see right through him. He likes this idea as much as you do, well he wanted it first for some odd reason, you are just trying to pick up any self dignity left in you.

You sat on the couch with two of his friends, you at the corner, trying to conceal yourself. Your eyes catch the hard eyes of the leader of the band, face scrunched up into an expression you know he does if truly impressed. It makes you pick up the tulle of your babydoll, keeping your hands occupied as you suddenly feel something shift beside you. The room is quiet, awfully so, everyone waiting for someone to pick up the conversation and it was no other than the cute guy with puffy cheeks and pouty lips.

You turn your head to him. He sits next to you, though now closer, moving slowly like he is being careful not to scare you away. Is it bad you want your boyfriend’s friends to fuck you? “You look pretty.” Han says, looking at your face but his eyes keep glancing down at your push up bra. Your breath hitches as his hand slowly comes to your breast, stopping to caress only with his finger the lace of your bra. You swear you could feel his touch burning you.

“We don’t have to do this, Y/N.” Spoke up Chan, making you snap your head into his direction. He out of everyone looks slightly less deranged from this situation, in exception the youngest doesn’t even want to look at you. “We can pretend like this never happened. We already talked about it–“

“You talked about this?” You breathe out in small shock, eyes wide. The hand hovering over your breast suddenly comes to your thigh, squeezing it. You glance back at Han, heart pumping wildly. His whole demeanor seem to change as the only thing on his mind is your skin against his.

Licking his pretty, pink lips, he looks up with a small cheeky smile on his lips. “We did. Everyone would really like to make this whole fantasy come true.”

“Don’t act so innocent now, Y/N.” Says Seungmin. “We heard how much you like this idea.”

Your lips are pressed against each other into a thin line, head hanging low. How could you not when your boyfriend was giving it to you all so good and then talked about his equally handsome friends joying you two. A finger raises your head back up by your chin, making you look into the dark eyes of one of his friends. You almost sigh in annoyance at his unmoving hand on your thigh. “Do you like it, Y/N?”

Shivering, you close your eyes for a moment, before opening them again. This isn’t a dream, this is literally your dirtiest fantasy come true. You always wanted to be tossed around, used and fucked dumb that the only thing on your mind is them. Everyone would kill to be in your position right now. From dating one of the most desirable man right now, to be touched like this by his friends — to be fucked by all of them. You don’t know what makes Felix so horny about this from his point but he definitely likes it as much as you. Looking into his eyes you only see desire, almost pleading but he would never push you into something you wouldn’t like. Oh, but you love it. “Yes!” You say, leaning over to get closer to Han. Your voice is raspy as your mind is overfilling with dirty thoughts. “Fuck, I love it..please fuck me, all of you.”

Your hands fly to his shirt, crunching it up in your fists. Han breathes out shakily, eyes shining in the setting sun, peaking out of the window. He grabs your forearms tightly, making your boobs push flush together. “Damn, love. You sure know how to use the proper words…” Exclaims Minho, voice on an edge, he was slightly shock by your sudden boldness.

Heart beats wildly inside your chest, looking into the eyes of your boyfriend’s friend, faces so close but you still had to make sure… “Can I Felix?” You mumble, tightening your grip on the shirt, while glancing at your boyfriend.

His eyes were wide, licking his lips at the sight before him. “I think he wants this more than you do.” Teases Changbin, glancing at your boyfriend’s obvious bulge. Some of them laugh at the words but your attention is only on Felix who wipes his sweaty palms onto his sweatpants.

He watches his close friend leaning over your body, lips dangerously close to the pulse point on your neck. He can’t miss the twinkle in his eyes and the way he grips your arms closer to his slightly exposed chest. Felix slowly nods his head, sealing the deal. The answer fills the heavy air and you sigh out as Han in front of you finally presses his lips onto your neck.

He firstly kisses the skin softly, testing if you don’t mind but you only pull him closer at that. You feel light headed from the way his kisses become progressively more rough. He, for a moment stops, turning his head to look you in your eyes, pulling your hands away from his shirt. Words weren’t exchange but you understood immediately, loosening your grip on the material and he on the other hand does something different. His hold travels over your arms to your wrist, awaking goosebumps all over your body. His movements stop there, pressing your wrist together, before pulling your arms above your head.

You gasp out as he slowly makes you fall back onto the couch, pressing your arms by your wrists on the headrest. It’s been a long time since you felt so helpless under someone, it makes a different kind of emotions run through you. You never felt cornered or intimidated by Han, he was always so sweet to you and in some way he reminded you of your boyfriend. The two were always sweet, bright smiles all over their faces but you should’ve known better. Even by dating Felix for a while now, he still surprised you by his dominance sometimes but you never guessed Han to be the same. He towers over you now, hips dangerously close to yours as he kneeled between your open legs. God, you have to buy some new panties.

He lowers himself closer to you, chests pressing together and both of you sighing. You could feel his well made muscles on your chest and he could definitely feel your hard nipples poking him through the layers of clothing. Your mouth opens in silent gasp as his knee grazes over your crotch and he uses your surprise by pressing his lips to yours. There are pillowy, you could taste his cherry chapstick on them, making you moan on his tongue that grazed over your teeth. It feels so dirty and wrong to kiss someone other than your boyfriend and literally infront of him but you now know that this could basically make him cum in his pants, like he did the first time he ate you out.

You are right however by your statement that Han is in some way similar to your boyfriend. The boy was whimpering like crazy, whining with you as he made you roll your hips onto his knee. You are dizzy from his touch, completely at his mercy, enjoying the fact that he could do whatever he desires with your body — all of them. You must be fucked in the head, already leaking onto his jeans but as your head rolls to the side, your eyes open. The guys are chewing on their lips, Hyunjin already palming himself slightly to relief some tension, even Jeongin now couldn’t help but glance at you.

Changbin tsks, just as Han starts to again lick at your neck. “Who said you could go first?” He says, raising up to his feet. He looks so good like this, eyes staring at you from above and the way his shirt clinged onto his chest and arms, made your pussy clench around nothing.

The boy for a second pulls away from you, only pressing his face onto your collarbones. “Who said I couldn’t?” He fires back, pulling himself up to his knees to look at you, still holding your hands over your head.

You glance back at the other who now leans over you, caging you to the couch with one of his hands on the cushion. The way his muscles jump at the stretch, makes your face flush with heat. You, one night once shared your adoration about his muscles with your boyfriend who also has a small thing for them. “You won’t mind us sharing, right?” You open your mouth to say your answer but a chocked cough echoes in the room, making you all look to that direction.

“Before we do anything, we should probably talk about safe words first.” Says Chan, like the good leader he is but you could see the way his face is deeply flushed even from here. “What’s your safe word, babygirl?”

You visible shiver at the nickname and his voice that dropped in tone. Hands come to you thighs caressing you, for a moment you forgot to answer, looking down and seeing two sets of hands at each one of your legs. “The traffic light…” Your voice is almost too quiet because how can you talk when two beautiful men are touching your sensitive thighs? You hope that none of the comes across that one sensitive spot…

“Use it if you need it, we can stop anytime you want…you understand?” You nearly again missed his question, watching Han as he kisses the inside of your right knee while Changbin’s hand travels teasingly up and down your leg. You, for a second meet Minho’s eyes from behind Han’s head.

“Yes…” You whimper, biting your bottom lip at the embarrassing sound, closing your eyes. A thumb touches your lip before you could bite at it even more, making you look into the dark eyes of the man. Changbin experimentally, after you release your lip from the cages of your teeth, trails his thumb over the inside of your mouth. If you had a mirror, you’d be blushing at your already messy state, lifting your hand to take the thumb inside your mouth.

“Tell me the words.” Orders the leader, voice cracking at the end, like in a groan. The hands around your wrists loosen, but you still had them there, hearing a small ’good girl’ from the corner of the room. Next you feel kisses on your knee again, watching as Han slowly makes his way lower and lower while making an so intense eye contact that you almost whimper again.

The thumb in your mouth goes deeper, pressing on your tongue, you could feel the saltiness of his skin or was it your pathetic tears you were tasting? Changbin’s eyes are peaking at you from behind his disheveled hair, chest heaving up and down wildly. You at the moment remembered that you still have to answer as the kisses aren’t traveling far enough for you nor the boy who isn’t touching you no more. “Green for keep going, y-yellow to slow down–“ You squeal slightly when Han touches you with his hand right where your thigh meets your pubic bone. No way he already found it. “–and red to stop.” You finish, eyes wide at those watching you from beneath. You don’t like the smirk on his face.

“Good girl.”

You gasp around the thumb in your mouth, drooling slightly. “Careful sweetheart, Channie here has a daddy kink.”

“I do not!” Defends Chan himself by the remark made by Minho. You however feel your pussy thighten around nothing for some reason at this small information. You have seen a video of Chan calling himself daddy as a joke but you don’t think he was joking at all. And you can’t say that he didn’t look like one.

“What’s your color, sweetheart?” Says Changbin, ignoring the bickering as the prettiest girl is right under him.

You look up at him, eyes glassy. How is this even a question? “Green.” You say, voice mumbled by his thumb pressing down on your tongue. The two men smile at your words and finally Changbin switches his thumb with his own tongue.

You groan at his taste and you couldn’t help but to pull your hands from behind your head to run through his curls. The skirt of your babydoll is lifted up to your soft tummy, fingers traveling over your skin while you make out with another of your boyfriend’s friends. A loud gasp comes from your mouth, pulling away from Changbin as you feel Han sucking right at your spot. Your hips jump wildly, in shock from how one of your sensitive spots is so roughly stimulated. It tickles slightly and Han couldn’t help but laugh at how much you are sensitive there. He didn’t expect that it would be that much. His laugh vibrates on your skin, it is so embarrassing how wet you are getting, you could feel your wetness pooling under you. “Sensitive there, huh?” Joins Changbin, mumbling the words against your gaping mouth.

The way Han’s fingers are pressing tightly on your hips, trying to keep them from moving while basically making out with your sweet spot is almost enough to make you cum. His mouth is so close to your pussy, basically feeling it on you from how his saliva mixes with your arousal and damping even more the lace of your underwear. When he suddenly bites down on the spot, his teeth dangerously tugging at the edge of your panties you whine out. “Please!”

Changbin looks at you with mock confusion, Minho peaking from behind the other and cooing at your words. “You have to ask for what you want, pretty or nothing.” His eyes go to the strap of your outfit that slides down your shoulder and he couldn’t help but marvel over your tits.

You bang your head down on the couch, hips raising desperately as Han only bites you more at your desperate movements. There definitely is going to be a spot after but you didn’t talk about marking, so you won’t say anything against it. “Please…” You try again, eyes filling with small tears. You feel so little at the thought of begging in this room filled with men waiting for their own turn to fuck you. You raise your head to look down at Han who for a second stops his sucking at your sensitive skin. “-need your mouth.”

“Where?” He smirks, making you whine, head rolling away to possible hide from the watchful eyes. Changbin doesn’t like your lack of answer as well as his companion, grabbing you roughly by the chin to make you look back at him.

“I thought you would be good to us.”

“I am!”

“No…” He says, clicking his tongue, other hand traveling down to the bottom of your skirt, only pulling it up more. “Be good and tell us what you want.”

You close your eyes for a moment but your self respect already left the room minutes ago, the moment they saw you. “Please, Han-“ The man looks at you in expectation. “Eat my pussy, please, I need you so bad.”

He groans at your words, eyes rolling back and pulling at the material of your underwear in hurry. The hand on your chin maneuvers you to its owner, his tongue fucking your mouth messily. You raise your hips, helping the other to remove the necessary piece of clothing. As the cold air hit your folds, you realize that you’re exposed to someone completely new but however before you could completely cross your legs, Han manhandles you, making your hips momentarily lift from the couch. You yelp as he lifts your bottom half before bending it so your legs are up, your whole pussy on display for the whole room.

His hands hold your legs up by the bottom of your thighs and your mind goes completely blank as his wet, hot tongue laps a straight, long line through your folds. Gasping out, your hand grasps the shoulder of his friend who pulls away from you to have a look at how much of a mess you are. Han eats you out like starved, saliva everywhere, tongue lazily licking you all up and juices dripping down your legs. You whine, whimper, noises so filthy that they made you embarrassed but your reaction only made the boy go faster, eyes shining with his own tears of pleasure.

Minho as everyone else couldn’t help but to stare at you with longing. His friend is so lucky, pussy as pretty as your pleasured face and the sounds? He has to lean over the body of his friend who is now sucking at your cute, little clit to have a better look. His body presses against his, hand running up his back and to the the back of his neck, before it pulls at his head. Han face is completely red, face completely covered in you and the only thing he could smell are your sweet juices. “Don’t be selfish, Hannie…tell us how she tastes.” The second oldest says, hand still at his hair, making his head fall back in delight.

“So fucking good, hyung.” He says, grinning wildly at his friend. “You have to taste her…”

Minho humms at his words, before shocking you as he swipes his finger on Han’s lips before putting into his mouth. You curse silently at the sight but it still reaches his ears, making him smirk down at you both. “Hmm, you are right—she does taste so fucking good–“ He groans, tilting his head at you. “Wonder what her own mouth can do…Changbin, would you mind testing for us?” He smacks his lips again at your tangy taste.

Your eyes travel to the named man who plays with your bottom lip. “How is she with her mouth, Yongbok?”

Everyone turns to him, you also. Felix wakes up from his trance as his friends and girlfriend look at him suddenly. You wanted to ask him if he is all good but deep down you just know — know that he is getting off to this. “What?” He asks, voice tiny, Seungmin and Hyunjin snicker at his reaction.

“Is she good with her mouth?”

Looking at his best friend he glances back at you, giving you a small smile. “The best.” The blonde says proudly, making you flush as all of them answer in series of sighs, ‘aaaa’ and ‘ohhh’.

Changbin turns back at you, slowly standing up and to your delight his crotch perfectly hovered over your face. “Want you…” You say, words falling from mind out of your mouth before you could think them over. Your words seem to surprise him for moment as well as your hands on his upper thighs, nails piercing the material of his black jeans. The look on his face told you that he has zero patience left in him and same goes for you, pulling his tight shirt up his stomach. Your mouth waters at his soft yet defined tummy, fingers helping him unbuckle his belt and pull down his pants.

His cock hits your chin before you could even take a good look at him and when you do your mouth opens with no words coming out. He was thicker than your boyfriend and you couldn’t help but imagine how he would feel stretching you out. You however still have in your mind that your boyfriend is perfect for you and you will always stand by it. You moan loudly as Minho suddenly pulls Han’s head back into your pussy, Changbin taking your surprise by shoving his tip into your mouth.

He tasted sweet, tip so thick and flushed that it almost looked like it hurts but you are already swallowing it all down. He groans as you took him deeper as well as you could while you are being eaten out. “Fuuck, isn’t she pretty?” The man before you rasps out, head rolling back as your tongue flicker over the prominent vein on his dick.

“The prettiest.”

You don’t even know who said that as you are pretty occupied at the moment. You choke around him as you take him deeper into your mouth, drool already rolling down your chin. The whole room was filled with nasty, wet sounds of your cunt and your mouth trying to take down the biggest dick you probably had. Han doesn’t seem to want to breathe, you don’t wonder why Minho has his fingers still in his hair, pulling his head up to let him take a breath while it only edges you further. You think you were close almost three times so far and the way Minho who quickly picked up on your expressions of frustration did it only to tease you more, makes you want to cry. He is evil but he knows, it will only make you cum harder.

You moan around the cock in your mouth, slurping it all up as it hits the back of your throat. Gagging, Changbin pulls you away to let you breathe, gulping in air but it is hard as the mouth on your pussy only licks more into you. Han pulls away slightly to stretch your lips apart by his fingers before sticking his whole tongue inside your tight hole. You almost scream at the feeling, you have never been fucked by someone’s tongue this way and it set the inside of your tummy on fire. “I cuuuming—“ You whine out, eyes squeezing shut, legs shaking wildly, still being held up. It hurt so bad but also so good…

“So soon?” Teases the cat like man, already seeing how he would make his friend pull away from you. It made you cry out.

“Please, let me cum—I’ve been good!”

Minho who wasn’t even doing much to you seems to be the one controlling your whole body. “Don’t ask me.” He surprises you, making you look at him just as he gestures to the man eating your pussy.

You feel yourself hanging right on the edge, hand caresses the side of your head, making it tilt to the direction for everyone to see. “Please, Hannie, I’m so close, let me cum, please, please–“ He doesn’t answer too busy fucking his tongue inside your hole and you are thankful as you are almost tasting your sweet release. When his thumb circle your puffy, red clit you immediately fall apart on his tongue, hand shooting to grab at his hair, right on top his friend’s.

You see black spots behind your eyes that roll back inside your head, body arching off the couch. Even after cumming Han doesn’t stop, only going harder and after already three orgasms in one day, it makes your whole body shake. “No more!” You plead, surprising yourself by pulling him away from you, clit twitching even after not being touched anymore. Both of you try to catch your breath from your earth shattering orgasm. Curses after curses flying out of everyone’s mouth because of how amazing you just looked cumming. Your boyfriend is so lucky to have a girl like you.

Your eyes open again, sticking together a little by your mascara running down your cheeks and you at the moment realize you still had big, now leaking cock before your face. You don’t know if it was the orgasm but something made you want even more. You want to taste everyone. Know how each one of them fucks and looks while cumming only for you. You surprise the man before you with pulling him by his hips to swallow his whole cock. He gasps in pleasure and amazement at you taking his whole cock down your throat, thank god your throat was already used enough for you to do that.

“Fuck, I need to fuck you.” Moans Han, you in response humming around his friend’s cock. Your hand grabs Changbin’s, him letting you lace it though your hair and you completely still at that.

“You want me to fuck your mouth?” You nod but that wasn’t enough for him.

Your eyes flicker to Han who pulls down his t-shirt over his head, for a second looking dumbly at his slim waist and defined muscles while a string of saliva connects you to Changbin. “Fuck my mouth.” You repeat as the other pulls down his pants slightly before stopping.

“Does anybody have a condom?”

“No!” You answer too quickly, everyone looking at you with wide eyes. You don’t usually let anyone go raw, even before meeting your amazing boyfriend you have never let anyone but you trusted them and you even think that some maybe have also never done it. Sex or going raw? Probably both. “We don’t have to…” You try to reason a little, meeting the eyes of your boyfriend who looked anything but against it. Gosh, he is so dirty, it’s sinful…

“Fuck, you are going to let me fuck you raw?” Asks Han who rubs the skin of your thighs, warming them up with his touch. His eyes are wide in excitement, pants low enough to make you get a glimpse of the base of his cock, small hairs on his pubic bone. You nod with a small smile, making him pull his dick out and as his whole body, he is beautiful. Long enough to hit the most sensitive spots and curved perfectly at the tip.

“Do your hear that Felix? You gonna let him fuck your girlfriend raw?” Spoke up Seungmin, eyes wild just as his blonde hair.

“Whatever my baby wants.”

You whimper at his words, eyes looking into his before you feel the tip of Han’s cock entering you as well as Changbin raising your head to take him again in your mouth. “Color?” Asks the man between your legs, skin glistening under the light.

“Green.” You murmur around the cock in your mouth and he at that pushes himself inside you fully. If he didn’t hear you and Felix fucking or if didn’t eat you out like starved, he might have preped you a little but you are a big girl. You’re going to take it all.

Your ears ring, completely deaf and oblivious of your loud moans of pleasure as Han snaps his hips into yours. The way the hair at the top of his cock grinds over your used clit, makes you only gush more around him. You could feel every vein on him, tip kissing just at you cervix while you try so desperately to keep up with the other cock in your mouth. You just lay there under them, Changbin using your mouth as he pleases, hissing every time you swallow around him. “You feel so fucking good–holy shit!-“ Han looks and sounds already spend, gasping every time your gummy walls would clench around him. He falls over you, hands balancing himself only by your tits that he grabs at.

“I don’t think I will last–“ He laughs, slightly in embarrassment but you only encourage him by gripping at the hand playing with your sensitive nipple. “Fuck where do you want me?”

You are at that pulled away abruptly from the the cock in your mouth that you feel twitching on your cheek. “Wherever you want…” You rasp out, eyes hooded.

He whimpers quietly only for your ears as others only hear the sound of skin slapping. He looks slightly in panic, not knowing where to cum, it was cute if he wouldn’t be fucking you so hard. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum on your tits-“ You nod in agreement, him straightening his back to pull the top of your bra down, making your tits spill out, nipples hardening even more from the cold air.

His hips shutter, pulling out quickly but some of his cum still lands on your cunt. Changbin lets you shuffle down a little for his friend to completely cover you in his cum. The warm liquid drips over your tits, pooling into your cleavage and it was so lot of it that even he has to gasp at the sight. “Holy fucking–“ He doesn’t let himself finish before lowering his head to take your left nipple into his mouth.

You gasp at his teeth grazing it and at the way how dirty this feels, seeing him suck his release from your skin. To your displeasure he is again pulled away by Minho who makes room for Changbin to grab you by your hips and pull you down the couch, so your whole ass is hanging from the couch. However he holds you tightly in his arms by your hips and before you could talk he slides inside you till he hits your cervix.

You don’t even say anything, only gasping in short breaths at his immediate fast pace. He stretched you out, the slight sting only making you more crazy in the head. Your hands grap roughly at the cushion behind your head, gripping for dear life to try and find some sanity left in you. You could feel him twitching already inside of you because your mouth is too good not to blow right away, he really held himself together till now, just so he could feel you clamping down on him. How are going to take all of them, you don’t know but you just have to — you need it.

“Gonna cum inside, yeah?” He announces, you only grasping at his shirt that keeps riding up his stomach. You can’t help but put your legs around his hips, pulling him closer if that’s even possible and to your surprise you do but it also makes him go deeper. His left hand wraps around your middle while the other grabs your chin to pull you into a kiss.

You both gasp as his hips snap into you so roughly you knock your head into the back of the couch, feeling him empty himself inside of you. The fact his cum is probably now mixing with your boyfriend’s makes you break out in a sob. As he puts your bottom half back on the couch, he pulls out of you slowly, his cum immediately leaking out of you. “Fuck me.” Someone speaks up, your glassy eyes only meeting with Felix’s, hand squeezing his still covered cock.

You catch your breath, well you try to, sitting up next to the guys who almost now sat on top of each other. Your hair sticks to your forehand, making you wipe the substance off when Han already back at least in his boxers tilts his head at you. “But you didn’t say I could…” You are confused, mind still hazy but thankfully there is someone who answers for you.

“She asked you, idiot.” Says Seungmin, walking up to you slowly, making you gulp as he comes to grab your chin. “Your bad, maybe next time buddy.” You hate how you only got more excited by his words, also having a feeling that this definitely isn’t the last time you will let them use you.

Minho gestures for the boy next to him to move, him doing just that as you know are between him and Seungmin. As you calm down your racing heart you realize your tits are out as also your whole bottom half visible for anyone. You bashfully cross your arms, eyes everywhere but the two of them but you only meet eyes with Chan who already has his own on where your hands were. You somehow forgot about the others as you were literally just fucked into the couch.

Soft touch at your arms around your breasts as well as on your crossed legs, makes your body relax a little. You look at your right at Seungmin who held a surprising softness in his eyes. They are all so sweet to you…”Do you want to keep going?” You nod at his words, mirroring the smile on his face. “Color?”

“So fucking green.”

Minho laughs shortly, you turning to him to catch just in time his gorgeous smile. It makes you feel blessed. “Good because we are not going to be so gentle with you.” You wonder how because what happened just a moment was already enough but you couldn’t help but yearn for more.

He doesn’t see any signs of you backing out and he has to say you’re a little slutty for being already horny again, waiting for new people to pleasure your body. Minho leans to lick your bottom lip, you gasping at the contact as your head is pulled back to give room for the other to kiss down your neck. Minho bites your bottom lip, enjoying your little sighs. He keeps doing that and without you even knowing, pulling away your arms from your chest. You only notice it by the cold air hitting your cum covered nipples.

Seungmin blew cold air at your sticky skin, goosebumps appearing on your body before putting his mouth back at the same spot. He sucks at the skin where your neck meets your ear before biting down for the sole purpose to create a hickey. You gasp at his boldness and him using your surprise to trail his hand down to cup your dripping center. Two people on you, pleasuring you with their mouths is a little much but also not enough at the same time. You want them to consume you whole and then spit you out like the slut you are.

Minho pulls away from your mouth, eyes twinkling with mischief. “What do you say Seungmin? Should we bend her over the couch?”

The named man looks at his friend, mockingly thinking. “The slut doesn’t deserve the comfort-“ He looks at you while saying that dirty name but you only look back at him with longing. No one called you that before and in any other situation with someone other than your boyfriend or his friends you wouldn’t like that but you now feel like him calling you that is quite fitting — because you do feel like one.

“You’re quite right.” Smirks the man with red hair, staring at you like you were something filthy to look at. “Get on the floor.” Your mouth hangs open. “Now.”

Slowly and clumsily you let yourself slide down the couch till your knees hit the carpet. You look up from there to the other side of the couch, now closer to you than before. How Hyunjin and Chan are staring down at you, makes you shake with exception because you couldn’t wait for them to have their turn. Your eyes look at the youngest who sits next to Changbin, under his legs the cute boy with puffy cheeks. You are slightly concern as because Jeongin simply doesn’t want to meet your eyes, big hands palming his baggy jeans but you know that if he wouldn’t want to be here, the others would’ve already do something about it.

Your staring is interrupted as someone’s hands push you down on to your hands, pulling your ass immediately back to them. Turning around you of course see the older one needing the flesh of your ass. You watch him pull his shirt between his teeth and you at that feel his cock leakage on your ass cheek. You would do anything to see him right now as well as also his body, knowing about the little scar on his stomach and you feel your heart in someway skip a beat because he is now showing it freely and comfortably.

Your head is turned back around, gasping as Seungmin already pulled himself out of his pants. He was so long and veiny, you wonder how you’re going to take him all into your mouth, already feeling your jaw hurting at the sight. You think back at how they talked about how rough they will be with you and when Minho suddenly slides his whole dick inside of you, you think you’re going to black out by the end of it.

Your whine breaks into groan as the older snaps his hips back before burring himself back inside of you with roughness you have never felt before. Your lips touch the tip of Seungmin’s cock, smearing his precum over your lips, like your own personal brand of lipgloss. Your tongue pokes out to lick away the salty liquid, before rolling out of your mouth to let him grind his tip all over your tongue. He groans at the sight and how your eyes are barely open from his friend’s movements. He really does have the dancer hips.

When you teasingly with the tip of your tongue poke at the underside of his cockhead, he grabbed you by your hair to finally bury himself into your mouth. You don’t even gag anymore, throat completely relaxed for his cock but you can’t say the same about your cunt that keeps clenching around Minho. He bites down hard at the material between his teeth, already soaked in his saliva before letting it fall from his mouth to speak up. “Has anyone ever fucked you here?”

His words are followed by the feeling of his thumb at the rim of your ass, waking you up from your fucked out state. You don’t move for a second, letting his thumb circle over the hole that is already wet from your leaking slick. When you however suddenly feel his thumb breaching the tight rim of muscles, you tap hurriedly at Seungmin’s thigh who pulls you from him by your hair.

Your vision is a bit blurry when looking back at the man who stopped all of his movements. “I-I-“ You try to gulp for air, shaking your head wildly in embarrassment, not meeting anyone’s eyes. A sudden slap rings around the room, you yelping from the harsh sting given by the man behind you.

“W-what, s-sweatheart?” He mocks. He already sees through you. He knows that you’re not feeling uncomfortable or anything as he could feel your wetness drip from where you two are connected.

“I’m prepped!” You exclaim, heat raising all over your body, looking at Felix from beneath your hair. “…I know how much you wanted to try it–“

Everyone gasps in amazement from your confession, the hands on your ass only holding at the meat of it tighter. “Fuck you heard that Yongbok?” Breaths out his hyung, leaning over you, pressing his chest against your back while his thumb is back at your ass. “Would you mind if I fucked her there before you?”

The blonde’s eyes widened, he wants so badly to be the first one but something about seeing his hyung do that made him even harder. “We don’t have lube…” Is the only thing he says, making you gasp. Is this really happening?

“With a leaking cunt like that? He won’t be needing any-“ Snickers Seungmin.

Then you whine in the lost of contact as Minho suddenly pulls himself out of you. “Fuck!” You cry out loudly as his next action knocks you down to your face. He spread your cheeks apart before licking along stripe from your pussy to your ass, circling his muscle there at the rim.

You shove your head into your arms, gasping for air as he ate you out from the back. This position and situation made you feel so little, sobbing into your arms at the foreign stimulation. A finger presses inside of you slightly, the tight muscles rejecting it. “Color?”

You don’t answer because you don’t know how. Do you want to keep going or stop? There really is no between at the moment. The heavy air in the room is quiet other than your small whimpers. You are pulled up to rest on your knees, Minho tilting your head to look at him. “If you don’t want to, you can say no. No one is pressuring you.” His tone is soft both hands resting on your tummy.

“I want to…” You trail off, trying to look away, slightly anxious but he doesn’t let you. You look in to his eyes, you always liked them, they seem to shine like two little pearls. “I’m just nervous, I’ve never done it before.” And there are many things you haven’t done before till now, it kind of seems a lot on your mind but your heart only wants more.

“I will be gentle, I promise.” He kisses you shortly, you melting at this side of him. “You are safe in this room, you can relax, nothing is going to happen to you.”

You become shy at his sweet words and the genuineness in his voice. Your head rolls down his shoulder, hiding in the collar of his shirt. “Okay.”

His next kiss is on your forehead, making you look up at him with big eyes before another one lands on your nose. You can’t help but smile softly, feeling his hands traveling down under the skirt of your babydoll. You are surprised that it is still intact at this point. His rough fingertips graze over your sensitive folds while the other stops at the side of your clit while his lips make a trail of kisses on your shoulder. Your eyes close, body slumping against his as his left hand plays with your clit, careful enough to not put much pressure on it. His other seems to only play with your wetness, scooping it up before he pulls his hand back to only press it at your virgin hole.

You don’t feel your body repulsing this foreign touch, only welcoming it as the finger slowly dips inside of you, you melting at the pleasure from your stimulated bundle of nerves. You hear a small curse behind you, the man mumbling into your skin. “Is she tight, hyung?” Asks Seungmin who now sat on the couch behind you, lazily stroking himself.

“Yeah–“ He groans at your moan as his other finger joins the first. His hand leaves your pussy to fondle your breast and you sigh again relief of finally getting some stimulation there. His thumb and forefinger twist your nipple just right, hips rolling back on his fingers. Every passing moment makes you hungry for more, bouncing yourself slightly on his digits. “That didn’t take long–“ He teases, already back to his cheeky self.

Your hole is left gaping open as he withdraws from you and you are already whining in annoyance, turning around to look at him, only seeing him stand up to his feet. You finally take a small glimpse at his manhood, hanging heavily between his legs. “Aren’t you forgetting someone?” Your eyes widened, glancing at Seungmin who caught your oogling.

He gestures with his hand to come sit on top of him where he lays on the couch. You decided it is far easier just to crawl over to him, knowing your shaky legs would immediately gave up on you. A low hiss comes from Chan’s lips from the beautiful view, he already has a idea about which position he wants you in and he definitely isn’t the only one as the long haired man next to him furrows his eyebrows.

You crawl up the couch, legs on each side of the blonde’s hips, gasping at the way he looks underneath you. You are shoved into his chest by the older, chest pressed against Seungmin’s, his tip just at your entrance. You moan in relief as his long cock enters you, immediately clenching down on him when you again feel fingers at your other hole. The one under you starts to bounce you back and forth on him, every time you would go back it only makes the fingers go deeper inside your ass.

It so good but so much, you have never felt so full till you feel Minho replace his fingers with his cock. “Relax for us, kitty–“ His hand pushes your lower back down, making you arch more for him. Your heart beats so fast you could feel it in your throat.

Cursing your head rolls back as he pushes in slowly, rubbing soft circles on your clit. Seungmin stopped all together to let you get used to being drilled by two cocks at the same time. The stretch is big but thanks to Minho prepping you, it doesn’t hurt as much, only you feel slightly uncomfortable by the fullness. Now you feel full, completely stuffed to the brim as the older buries himself inside you till his pubic bone is flush against your cheeks. The two of them groan as they could feel each other through the thin layer of your insides.

How are you still conscious is a mystery but you couldn’t simply let yourself miss the feeling of them finally moving. Seungmin pushes you down on his cock like his own personal fleshlight, Minho snapping himself back into your tight ass creating a mind blowing rhythm. “Wait isn’t this too much for her?” Gasps out your boyfriend, eyes wide set on where you are being stuffed.

“Is it?” Wonders Seungmin, raising your head from his chest to show everyone your tears of pleasure.

“No! Keep going pleaseee–“ They can’t stop when you’re feeling like this but to your delight they could never possibly stop as this is even for them the most pleasure they have ever felt in their life.

Your breath is knock out of you every time either of them buries themselves in to you and you can’t help your hips from bouncing off their cocks. Seungmin lets you move on your own, biting his lip at the way you sigh into his mouth. Minho also is completely mesmerized by your smooth moves, eyes set on the way your ass recoils on him. You have no clue about how much you have them all wrapped around your little finger.

A drool drips down your chin, wetting Seungmin’s shirt and some even lands on his own lips but your mouth doesn’t hang open for to long as he shoves his two fingers into it. Moan vibrates your tongue that is pressed down by his long fingers. You probably look so messy right now but you don’t care at all as the inside of your tummy is basically on fire. You rarely cum without your clit being stimulate, it always feels weird and you were too scared to let go. You whine out, so close to your peak but yearning for the extra touch. Your eyes open, landing on your boyfriend still in the loveseat. “Lixie, I gonna cuuum–“ You sound desperate and he knows by the tone of your voice that you even by being fucked by two men at the same time, you need something on your precious, puffy, little clit

A hand on your hair, tugging you up, makes you squeal. “Don’t look at him, you slut–“

“–look at us when we are gonna make you cum.” Finishes the man under you, his own voice at edge and you could also feel the one behind you shaking in his nearing orgasm.

Fuck, you can’t take this anymore…you’ve become completely dumb on their cocks. “Please!” They don’t ask what to your surprise because they are themselves right at the edge and also they don’t even need to ask because they just know and then a nasty slap lands on your pussy. The sound echoes through the room, ringing in your ears as you finally fall apart.

The first one to cum after you is Minho, already edging himself multiple of times but nobody has to know that. Your tight hole is just as good as your gushing cunt. He cums into you, not even asking for permission because he just knows that’s what you want the most. Soon after that is Seungmin the one cumming, small cry leaving him as his legs slightly shake when he raises his hips into you.

You three stay there, totally spend and you can’t help the drunk, smile falling over your bitten lips. The older pull his softening cock out of you cursing as his release mixes with his friend’s who’s cock hangs down against your pussy. The fingers in your hanging open mouth also leaves you, only to travel down your body to scoop up the mixes of your releases and put them back into your mouth. “We don’t want to waste anything, do we?” He smirks, only to moan with you as you suck on his fingers, making him pull you down to kiss you.

“Holy shit.” Is whispered, your eyes falling to Jeongin who quickly looks away from your sinful state.

The two men push themselves away from you, falling to the floor with their cocks still hanging out. You on the other hand fall face first into the couch, body completely filled with ecstasy. You could feel Minho’s cum falling down to your other hole, squeezing your legs together to possibly safe the already ruined cushion. The one thing which safes the material a little are fingers, the touch making you turn your head.

Your face forms into wanting as you meet Hyunjin’s eyes, painted softly with some eyeliner, making him even more beautiful. His long hair hangs over his eyes, pink, full lips licking away the substance on his fingers. You moan at that, clenching around nothing. The was so erotic, even Han is sighing in delight. “You look so good…” You flush under his burning stare, completely mesmerized by his beauty.

He looks at you like something out off this word, falling to his knees to take your head into his hands. “I wish to paint you like this.” If it’s even possible anymore, you become even more shy under his gaze. “But right now I only want to taste you–“

You gasp again, like the hundredth time in this day. You are suddenly rolled over onto your back, him pulling you down the couch so he could kneel before your cunt. You are surprised by his strength slightly but looking at his arms, you realize where he gets it from. You’re shocked that he wants to eat you out. Guys normally would be disgusted by the sight of someone else’s cum not to mention licking it all up after. Hyunjin however sees something so beautiful about this, you, a symbol of pleasure and being painted by someone’s else immense pleasure that only you are capable of giving.

He looks so pretty, it makes you shy about being so closely inspected by him. His eyes flicker to yours, glancing at you from beneath his eyelashes. He holds the eye contact even when licking a long stripe up your pussy. You are so sensitive there that you feel like you’re cumming again, legs shaking around his head. When you with using all of your last sanity look at others, you moan at their faces of shock and arousal.

You whimper, thinking and now seeing how they are all so comfortable together, it makes you feel safe. Felix is too but you could feel small jealousy radiating from him as he is glaring at his best friend devouring your pussy. The funny thing is that seeing Hyunjin being so invested in your scent, makes him twitch more. You must say you’re impressed that he is still clothed, though both hands squeezing himself to relief some of the tension.

“Come here, Innie–“ Says the long haired man, pulling from you for just a second before pushing his whole nose into you back again. If you thought Han was messy you are now proved wrong. Maybe it is becomes of waiting for so long for his own turn with you but the way you and his friends’ cum taste together makes his cock push painfully against his pants.

Jeongin jumps almost at the sound of his name, wide eyed. You watch him with your hooded eyes how he stands up with a shaky breath, stalking slowly to you. Does he not want you? You think it is perfectly fine if not but you still feel a small stab in your heart. Your hand shoots out to grab Hyunjin’s hair and making your wetness smear all over his face. He only moans in delight at the tug, sucking and slurping you all up.

Frowning, your head rolls to the side where the other sits down. His hands keep playing with the denim on his thighs, face flushed deep red. “What’s wrong?“ You asked quietly, he looks at you, jumping from your voice. You can’t make out his expression clearly but his eyes seem to keep glancing down when suddenly the man under you pulls away.

“Need your fingers–“ Whines out Hyunjin, smacking his lips and licking at them to get every last drop of you.

The words are meant for the quiet guy with ginger hair. He looks spooked slightly at his friend’s request but shuffles down nonetheless. The older of the bunch pulls his own fingers to your cunt but eyes are set dead on his close friend who almost drools at the sight.

“Watch.”

And the younger does exactly that for the first time in the now evening, stares at your body and at Hyunjin’s middle and ringfinger disappearing inside you. You mewl in oversensitivity, putting your manicured nails in your mouth and biting down on them. He moves his fingers slowly but still it is delicious, your stretched out cunt clamping on them as they reach the deepest parts of you. “Juuust like this–“ He exclaims, glancing at you before looking back at Jeongin who watches closely. “You want to make her fall apart, right?”

He at that glances at your face before stopping momentarily on your tits, nodding. He is pulled away from his racing thoughts when his friend grabs his hand. “Your turn…” Jeongin breathes out shakily, nodding away as Hyunjin pulls his hand to your hole.

You are not blind, you obviously have seen how long his fingers are. So slim and pretty, with veins and rings decorating them. When he finally touches you, he can’t help but let his lips part at how soft and wet you are. Circling your entrance, his friend couldn’t take it anymore for both of your sakes, wrapping his hand around his friend’s to make his fingers fill you up. Both of you gasp, you from you much longer they truly are and him at how your gummy walls sucked him right in.

They both let you get used to them before it is again Hyunjin who makes the next move. “Move your fingers like this…that’s right, back and forth–“ You can’t even imagine how long his cock must be when only his fingers are already kissing at your cervix. “–scissor them…” Jeongin’s eyes keep glancing between you and his friend’s fingers who held them up in the air for him to see what to do. He does a good job, he thinks, seeing your hooded eyes as he scissors his long fingers like said. “–to stretch her out….not like she needs it–“ Laughs Hyunjin as you only whimper in embarrassment. “–then you’re gonna curl them–“ A loud moan leaves you as Jeongin’s does that, legs shaking, feet digging into the couch. “…till you find her spot.”

The coppery blonde doesn’t take his eyes from where he is fucking you with his fingers. He hits the gummy spot dead on, pressing into it slightly, the older helping him to move his hand back and forth. “Faster–“ Hyunjin’s gasp mixes with yours, griping his friend’s hand tightly. “–don’t move the tips of your fingers away from the spot.” He orders, the younger one nodding.

Now on his own, he slides closer to you, face almost touching your pussy from how close he is. It makes your stomach flip from the way his big eyes, almost innocently watch how your juices are being pushed back inside of you. “I said faster.” Warns the other, not liking how Jeongin seem to go easy on you.

“I-I don’t want to hurt her…” Finally speaks up the youngest, voice small and fingers momentarily stilling in you.

Hyunjin scoffs. “She literally had two cocks rearranging her guts, there’s no way you could hurt her and she seems to only wait for you to go faster–“ His hand grasps his wrist, hold tight. “–so go fucking faster.” He growls, taking his surprise to pick up the pace of his fingers.

Your right leg falls from the couch, thankfully the older one catching it, wrapping it around his shoulder because you become a moaning mess. You don’t even think Hyunjin is now controlling the movements, his hand loosening around the other’s wrist. Jeongin surprises you by curling his fingers even more, pace so brutally fast that your wetness lands on his black shirt. The painter only gives you more pleasure when his free hand presses onto your lower stomach with a shit eating grin. You can’t help but to glance down at Jeongin who licks his lips at your intoxicating smell, his head on the inside of your thigh, nose almost touching your clit.

You keep gasping for air, feeling too much of everything right now. You don’t know what to do with your trembling body as his pace doesn’t seem to quiver even a little bit. He held his fingers curled, hooking into your spot as he suddenly only pushes there. He doesn’t even move them out of you, pushing nearly painfully into your spot. The palm on your tummy presses down more and you think you could feel the fingers in your throat. “Wait! It feels weird!–“ Something completely new starts to bubble inside you, uncontrollably shaking as you try to keep yourself up.

“Let it happened.”

You can’t fight it, so you do exactly that. For a moment you only see black before a wave of sheer pleasure washes over you that seems never stopping. In horror you watch yourself squirt all over Jeongin’s fingers, face and upper body, soaking even Hyunjin in it. You try to stop but you simply couldn’t. It was too good and you literally had no control over your body. Your juices squirt out of you again, leaking out with the mixed cum that was till now drilled deep inside of you. “Fuck stop!” You scream, tugging at your own hair.

The older has to shove the younger away from your squirting pussy. “Holy fuck, I knew it–“ Says Hyunjin to himself, hand around his friend’s shoulder while looking at your slowly calming down body. Jeongin can’t help but marvel over his own hand, tongue already licking off your wetness from his face. You feel like on cloud nine, you can’t even imagine how that must have looked to them. Crossing your legs, you try to sit up on your elbows.

Felix couldn’t believe what just happened as well as others, the raging jealousy however slowly dies down as he realizes something while you’re tugged down the couch by his best friend. Yes, he is mad that he was not the one to fuck your ass first and also never making you nor seeing you orgasm like that before but can he truly be mad? His friends showed him a new side of you and they only brought you pleasure so far, so there’s that.

“I can’t–“ You gasp, as you are placed between the legs of the sitting singer.

“You know what to say if you need us to stop.” Says Hyunjin into your ear, placing himself behind you. You shut up at that making him chuckle evily. “What a whore, don’t you agree, Jeongin?”

The named boy who has you on your knees before him looks challenged, not knowing what to answer. “Don’t act innocent, Innie–“ Spoke up, Minho, making you turn your head back at him, cooing at Han who is curled up to his side. “–you literally can’t keep your eyes off her tits.“

You tilt your head back up to look at him and to your surprise you do catch him staring at your tits that were still out of your bra, covered in slowly drying cum. “You like her tits, huh?” Says Hyunjin, pulling you back to his chest to give the younger a better look at them. “Can’t say I disagree but I thought you would be more of an ass guy…” Jeongin keeps quiet, eyes going now everywhere but you — oh…he is shy. And his friend is only trying to help him loosen up a little and have some fun.

You’re pulled away from your thoughts as hands grabbed a handful of your breast. The man behind you fondles them, thumbs rubbing at your swollen nipples, making you mewl. Hyunjin smashes them together roughly, his cock already pressed between your ass cheeks. God, he felt long and thick, you can’t wait for him to fuck you. You wonder how did your stamina suddenly become so high but the thought of having the most beautiful people fuck you, kept you going. “Can you imagine fucking them?” He can’t help but groan himself at the lewd words.

Jeongin looks away completely, cheeks flaming red. “You already did…” Hyunjin puts his lips to your ear, hot breath fanning over it, making shivers run down your spine. “What do you think baby, might let his dream come true?” Felix can’t help but gasp at the nickname and you also.

The hands on your beast travel down your waist, fingers pressing into the skin. “But let’s get them nice and wet for him first, yeah?” He turns you quickly around at that and your eyes widened at his exposed chest. When did his shirt come off? You’re definitely not complaining, drooling only at the sight of his happy trail that you have seen too many times by his shirt always riding up when he would dance. It is your weakness.

His lips caught your left nipple, sucking at it roughly, him letting his saliva flow free out of his mouth. His teeth nibble at your areola, making you hiss in pain, him soothing it by his fingers rolling over your other nipple. You gasp at the big purple spot left behind when he pulls away to only suck at the other. He does that couple of times to get your buds nicely red and swollen before licking between your tits. Is it really licking? Because he is basically only drooling on your skin. You can’t help but jump as smashes your tits together and only to spit on them. “Fuck, you’re perfect — so fucking perfect.” Hyunjin mumbles, the words running through your whole body. He lets spit drip from his bottom lip, tongue then hanging out and completely covering you in the liquid. You can’t help but look down, whimpering at the blotches, red nipples all glistening and you also realize he slurped all of his friend’s cum off you.

You yelp as he manhandles you, turning you back around, the movements so smooth, your heart skips a beat. “Ask him if he agrees.” You whimper at the rough tug at your nipple, glossy eyes meeting Jeongin’s.

His eyes were dark but still his hands nervously played with his jeans and you couldn’t possible miss the tent in them. “Do you like it?” Hyunjin smacks you across your right ass cheek, telling you to try better. “Do you like my tits, Innie?” Your eyes hazy, looking into his, you suddenly feel something go over you at his all cute state. “I want you to fuck them, Jeongin. Fuck my tits–“ You whimper, your own hands fondling your breast.

You hear a small gasp behind you but your attention is only him as he slowly, barely nods his head. You take that as a sign to unbuckle his jeans but as you almost pull the rough material down, you’re pulled back by your hair, back arching as you feel Hyunjin positioning himself behind you. “Don’t forget about me, now.” He ends his statement by taping his fat tip on your clit. All of this is a dream come true — they are literally all so perfect. You surprise him by pulling him in for a messy kiss, teeth clashing together as he moans at your tongue wrapping around his. His lips were like heaven, so soft and yet sinful.

He puts you back to your place, making your ass flush against his stomach while you come back to your task of removing this offending piece of clothing from Jeongin. His hands grab yours not to stop you but only to help you and you’re happy that he can at least show you just a little that he wants this as much as you. Maybe his heavily rising chest is also a giveaway. Your hips buckle back at the other as he coats his cock in your wetness, your eyes however are at the bare one before you. You thought you might’ve strip him down accidentally of his underwear all together also but oh, he is so dirty for walking around like this — you wonder how his baggy jeans could hide him.

His dick was so fucking pretty. Long and the right girth, clean shaved, tip slightly glistening from the precum and balls heavy, waiting for any sort of relief. Your hands fall to his thighs, squeezing the muscle that jumps as a reaction at your touch. You want him everywhere but now even to you, your breast seems to be the only thing on both of yours minds. You kind of wished for some lube but there’s nothing you couldn’t do with your mouth, making you shuffle to him closer to grab him in your hand.

You went to pump him, only being stop at the feeling of the cock slowly breaching your pussy. You’re thankful for Hyunjin’s thoughtfulness of not going in to hard, giving you space for you to also pleasure his friend. He really doesn’t mind it as he is looking over your shoulder when you pull the tip closer to your mouth. Jeongin’s hand flies immediately to his mouth as you take him halfway, keeping your mouth open for the simple reason of completely covering him in your saliva.

Hyunjin circles his hips into you, keeping a slow pace as you drown his friend in your spit. The liquid travels down Jeongin’s balls, him trying so hard to keep quiet at your moments. His hips though hump the air when you suddenly pull your mouth away from him. “Come closer–“ You gasp, grabbing at his legs. He without a second thought, shuffles closer to the edge while you pull your arms up to grab his hips.

That move makes the other go deeper inside of you, momentarily rolling your hips back at him because it was just too good. Hyunjin’s eyes are already at the sight before him, his own hands coming to lay over yours before traveling them to your tits which he pushes up. With a sharp snap of his, your upper body lands on to the lap of the youngest, the dancer pulling your breast at each side of his cock.

You three moan, you putting in your own strength to smash your breast tighter around Jeongin. You don’t even have to move as the oldest basically got a hold of this whole situation by his thrusts. The sounds are even louder and more lewd by it being right under your nose, watching with glassy eyes at the disappearing and appearing tip between your tits. Thank the fuck, Hyunjin is being the one in control because the way his balls slap at every harsher snap of his hips on your clit, makes your whole body become jello. You let your tongue hang out, occasionally the tip flickering over Jeongin, him jumping at the stimulation. He looks like he could cry, biting at his fingers so much they are basically in his mouth, shaking at the way the still tasted and smelled like you.

Hyunjin puts one his hands on you ass cheek, kneading it between his fingers and the other goes to your jaw, tilting your head back. “Look at you…made for all of us to use–“ You moan, clenching around him, making him hiss. “Look at how our Innie’s enjoying it.” He whispers in your ear, tilting your head back to look at his friend. “He definitely is thinking about your sweet little pussy—how you feel, fuuuuck–“ Whimpering, you glance at him, faces so close you could see the little mole under his eye. “Our sweet, little Innie might not seem like it but he’s the nasty type.” Hyunjin’s thrusts become faster, deeper, the more he speaks. “So fucking nasty—he likes it nasty and wet…let’s make it wet for him, y-yeah?”

You nod, eyes rolling back inside your head as you squeeze your hands tighter. Your own hips start to meet Hyunjin’s trusts, him now completely at your mercy as he nears his end. The hand on your waist pinches you, loud whimper falling from him, legs shaking behind yours as he stuffs you full with his load. A small sighs fly out of him, completely different from what you have heard before, wondering if you could make him release these kinds of noises more often in the possible future.

Pulling out of you, he smacks your ass quickly, encouraging you to hop to your feet and only to land on his friend’s lap. Jeongin looks a little spooked out from the quick series of events, only now seeing the mischief in both of yours eyes. He can’t help but to sigh out at the sight of you on his lap, tits at the level of his eyes. He can’t believe he got to fuck them, a little sad that it stopped right as he was almost at his own peak but nonetheless excited to have more from you.

Your cunt to be exact. Your hips raise to grab his cock, siting down on it so none of the fresh cum could go to waste. Kind of a bad idea as your hips slightly jump back up as he only hits your cervix painfully. You whimper quietly into his shoulder as he sat there under you with mouth hanged open and head over the couch. You bounce slowly on top of him first, just the half of him before you could finally take him whole.

Behind your fucked out state, you frown at the way he is trying so hard to keep quiet. It looked like it hurt, his eyebrows pulled together at the deep concentration of not making a sound. You grasp his hands which till now layed alone by his side, putting them on your tits. That did it for him, finally looking at you. You don’t even think he is realizing that the way he is looking at you makes you all giddy inside. He is staring at your breast like they are the best thing he has ever seen, drooling in his head at the way they look in his own hands.

He cups the underside of your boobs, keeping them freely bouncing in the air from your moves. Moaning you just have to lift the bottom of his shirt slightly to have a look at his lean, toned body. Finally he is seeing how much he makes you feel, making him feel better about his image. But he can’t never tell anyone about the small crush he has on you…

“Y/N…” He calls out to you.

You gasp at the sound of your name falling from his lips. “Innie…” He whimpers, the noise leaving him on accident but you only quicken your movements. That makes him moan more and more before he has to pull your lips to his to silence them as he surprises you by cumming inside of you. His grip is strong, nearly painful but completely unseen as you stare wide eyed at the boy under you, crying at the feeling of your walls milking him dry.

“I’m sorry–“ He mumbles into your hair, cringing at the way his cum leaks out of you and down to his balls.

“Don’t say that I fucking love it.” You say, making him look at you in amazement. He kisses you softly at your words, a small smile falling over his lips and you can’t help but do the same.

You basically had to fight Jeongin to pull out of you. You could already feel his soft cock, hardening again and as much as you would like to give him another go there is still one left…fuck. Maybe you should’ve let the boy cockwarm you because the piercing and intimidating stare makes you want to curl up into a ball. You lay on the couch on your side, eyes skimming the men that already had their go and also your boyfriend, sitting there with glassy eyes of complete arousal, before they stop at the leader. Menspreading into those tight, black jeans of his is making you physical shudder, licking your lips at his toned chest peaking from the sides of his tank top. It should be illegal to look this good while simply sitting. Was your brain completely fucked out of you?

“Do you still want me?” He asks, looking down at your body. “Don’t want to hurt you, doll–“ He is asking for permission, yes but why does he have to use such a nickname, it only makes you want him more, dodging his question completely.

Of course you do, such a stupid question. He sits there waiting for your answer, not trusting himself by going closer to you. You are too pretty for your own good and the beautifully ruined state you’re in makes him absolutely feral. He always thought that it was wrong to even have a small thought about how you looked while getting fucked by Felix. That guy was so fucking lucky and he has to wonder how he bagged you because he would always say some ridiculously awkward pick up lines. Pick up lines he, the leader, gave him but he maybe is forgetting about how dominanting you can get. You just liked being used and pillow princess was sometimes too big of a fun. You can handle way more than you look and you already proved it to him tonight, he just wants to hear it from your own lips.

“I do, please Channie–“ You say, hands gripping the couch. “–come closer.”

He has to calm himself down a little at your sultry voice, not wanting to look like an idiotic schoolboy around his friends. He slowly stands up, jeans wrapping around the obvious bulge in them and stalking to you with hard stare. You would really like to say you’re switch but something about his whole aura makes you feel small and fragile. As Chan stands before you, towering over your quivering body, your eyes drift back to his crotch. Even from the material blocking your view you know he’s huge and you wonder how he could hide it in those tight jeans.

He makes you almost purr as he brushed his fingers through your hair softly, untangling the strands. “Get on my lap…” Your heart skips a beat as he sits down at the corner of the couch. You sit up to climb into his inviting lap but you’re stop with a hand in the air. “Back facing me.” You bit your lip at that.

Turning around you shuffle teasingly back onto his lap as he places his legs on the couch. You cage his legs with your knees, sitting down, your ass right at his bulge. You gasp at the feeling of the rough material grazing over you, pushing yourself down on it, rolling your ass back at him. He stops your movements with his strong grip at your ass. “Who said you could do that?”

You stay silent, frozen. You didn’t expect the nasty smack on your ass. “Ah! I-I am sor-ry?” You say back as another one lands, even harder than the first one.

His hand massages the red skin, marveling over your body. “Good girl.” Chan murmures back at you, showing you that’s exactly what he wanted to hear. “You want my cock, princess?” You nod, slightly ashamed at feeling your pussy dripping, soaking him.

Smack!

“Yes! I want your c-cock…” You clench over nothing, buckling your hips against him. He groans at your words, fingers tapping at your skin to gesture for you to slightly lift yourself up so he could finally release himself.

The thing you feel next makes you shiver. His cock smacks free over your pussy and your eyes can’t help but widen at the heaviness of it. You glance back, mouth open as you look at his massive cock. You don’t think he can possibly fit…The man could see the nerves all over your face, his own slightly red in embarrassment. He takes your expression as a good one but he is also slightly nervous while staring down where you two are the closest.

His cock is hovering over your cunt and both of you could see how deep it will go inside you. You nod your head back at him, giving a sign to go in. Backing up, you in experiment grind down on it, both of you moaning at the feeling. The prominent vein that leads to his mushroom tip, bumbs into your clit. “Fuck, gonna ride me? Gonna ride this cock, babygirl, you’re so fucking soft–“ Chan grabs the base of his cock, helping you sit up.

You cry out at just his tip, pussy lips swallowing it eagerly. He was so fucking thick—you realize that Jeongin was only preparing you for the bigger deal but it still stretched you out. “There, there I know–I knoooow–“ Hissing at the way you clench down at just his tip, he gives you some time to get used to him.

It didn’t take that long, maybe because you are simply too hungry for him. Carefully you move up and down his tip, each move making him go deeper into you. “You’re so big–“ You whimper, your hands on his knees balancing you, trembling.

“Taking me so good…look at that–“ The leader says to himself mostly, eyes barely open but still plastered on the way you swallow him more and more.

You fall over slightly when you finally sit down on his cock. You could feel him poking your tummy, the tension on your cervix deliciously painful. You both try to catch your breath from your walls squeezing down on him, staying there panting in this position for some time. Chan was always so sweet and shy when you would give him a compliment, blushing furiously while he could literally at the same time split you in half with his cock. It made you so mad for some reason so you — oh, you will give it to him good. Or will he?

You do surprise him by immediately pushing your hips up and then back down hard on him. He puffs out air, hands flying to hold your hips. He just leaves them there, too occupied of looking at your jiggling skin and your hole swallowing him. You don’t even know what kind of sounds you are making, the only thing on your mind is him. He can’t help but wonder of the fuck Jeongin didn’t cum immediately from your smooth moves. You were literally made for riding cock. He needed this so fucking bad, the stress of the new comeback basically controlling his whole body is now gone, out of the window. It also was so long since he got such a good pussy like yours, or any at that factor.

He almost forgot about his plan, laying there completely at your mercy. Chan’s mind then fills with imagines of maybe other positions he would like to see you in. So many and he almost cries at the thought of not trying at least one of them. He hopes this really isn’t the last time to get you like this. He in fact enjoys seeing his band members finally loosing up and you don’t seem to be displeasured by being used like a fuckdoll. His imagines the way he would fuck you into the couch, leaving you completely dumb and he just had to sit up, cock still in you and press your face into the cushion.

A long whine leaves you as he presses your face down, holding your hips with his other hand and drilling roughly into you. You sob at the feeling of him in your stomach, he immediately pulling your head to the side. “Col-“

“Green! Fucking green!” You scream, shaking at his thrusts. Looking back at him with your glassy eyes you even make him go harder. “Please…” You say quietly. “Please-“

He leans over you, chest against your back. “What was that?” There was a small cocky tone in his voice.

“Please, make me cum–“ You are already so close but you still need the extra push, even if you are basically gasping for air. “…please, daddy, make me cum.”

“Fuck me…”

He groans, hips jumping at that. He doesn’t miss the lazy smile on your lips that is wiped off by his palm on your clit. “Fucking cum–soak daddy’s cock, baby girl–“ You sob, tears falling down your face when he suddenly moves his palm from side to side, roughly bumping on to your clit.

You don’t even make a sound, mouth hanging open as you squirt all over his cock. He doesn’t stop, only fucking you through it and making a complete mess out of you, just like he wanted. “Just a little longer, baby girl…” You try to keep yourself up but only failing at the rough thrusts, falling face first into headrest of the couch. He pulls his hand away from you but as he is still drilling himself into you. It feels like a never ending orgasm.

Suddenly you feel hand caressing your cheek, eyes glassy, you look up, only to come face to face with your boyfriend. You two share a look, emotions swirling in your eyes but then the leader pull you two out of it by surprising you with wrapping his hand around your throat, making you tilt your head back, seeing him upside down. “Chan, I think it’s already too much for her–“ The next thing that the named man does will be forever imprinted in your mind.

Chan doesn’t let Felix finish his words, scooping up your juices with his fingers before shoving them into your boyfriend’s mouth. The blonde moans around his friend’s fingers in complete shock, finally getting his well deserved taste of you. You gasp, choking around the hand blocking your airways. When Felix sucks down on his fingers that does it for Chan. With last snap of his hips he fills you up to the brim, sighing, groaning, almost hiccuping at the feeling.

He pulls his hand away from your throat only to pull you up to smash your lips to his. “Fuck. you’re amazing…” You whine into him as it only makes him go deeper into you. Your boyfriend pulls his friend’s fingers out of his mouth slowly, looking at the sight before him with big eyes.

The leader slowly realizes the glances you keep stealing at your boyfriend while caressing your body softly, giving you a one last kiss before pushing you up to pull his cock out of you. You whimper at the lost of contact and at the cum falling onto the couch, you definitely need a new one.

Felix is there to caught you in his arms, before you could fall over, slowly lowering your body to lay down. “You did so good, I’m so so so lucky to have you…” He says to you sweetly, you smiling in return but your eyes can’t help but to travel to the obvious stain at his sweatpants.

You look at him with a small teasing smile, him laughing sheepishly before pressing a kiss to your lips. “I love you.” He whispers to you and you feel like crying of joy at his words, emotions all over the place.

“I love you too.” You croak out, leaning into his touch, completely exhausted.

He immediately rubs at your shoulder, warming up your cold skin, body wet from a mix of spit and cum, making you shiver. “Let me clean you up.” Felix says, before hearing his friends’ shuffling behind him.

“We can do that…” Minho says, looking down at you two and your lovesick faces. His eyes travel down the blonde’s body, nodding. “–while you clean yourself up…or do you also want help with that?”

Your boyfriend rolls his eyes at that remark, wanting nothing more than to wipe his friend’s smirk off his face. His cheeks are on fire but he probably should get clean first before taking care of you because you will need more that.

That statement stays. All of them took their own turn of wiping any residue of what happened off you and out of you. They even dressed you in some more comfortable clothes, your brand new babydoll basically needing bleach after and your panties mysteriously went missing. You were taken care of, cleaned up, dressed and even fed with food because you were too tired to that on your own. You don’t even know how you end up falling asleep mid bite of the takeout you all ordered but you know you were laying on your boyfriend’s chest while some of his friends layed next to you, cuddling you, the ones who didn’t have any place left for them to do that at least touching you in some sort of way, completely drowning you in their warmness and kindness.

Everything made you closer to them. In some way or another, heightening your friendship into something more stronger and intimate. But you still couldn’t help but wonder…was it really your boyfriend’s birthday or yours after all?

[hoonkitti]

shared secret ─ ˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊

best friends who share everything… including their side chick.

𓊆박성훈 & 심재윤& 박종성 x fem reader𓊇 baby, is it me or are you doing something to me? when you smile, it’s shining, but for some reason, you’re lying inside. dangerously, you’re beautiful. you slowly came to me, my dilemma like a habit. ─ baby don't like it, nct127 ⫶ 𐔌masterlist꒱

𓆩♡𓆪 wow hi :< it's been a minute since i wrote + something so long + smut?! + foursome?!?!?! ... i'm super sorry in advance if this is so shit because yk i don't reread my smut and this is genuinely just 10k of filth hahsheahs and i miss u guys so much kisses kisses kisses :x

word count 10k content advisory heavy infidelity/cheating, lowkey polyamory? possessiveness, side chick, jay is a football player, jake is a nerd, toxic relationship, moral ambiguity, hoes before bros or whatever, no one's a good person here, mentioned of underage drinking (1), kinda sunghoon biased i'm so sorry, non proofread! smut advisory foursome (fmmm), very nasty mayne, different sex scenes, squirt, fingering, cum stuffing, oral, fellatio, pussy licking/sucking, lots of making out jesus, dirty talk, profanity, locker room fucking, creampie, cumshot, tit play, jake's in love with your tits and sunghoon can't stop kissing you, flirting, jay's gentler than the others, jake is lowkey a softdom/sub, sunghoon's a hard-dom and mean, use of slut, whore, cumdump etc. doggy style, side-fucking, missionary, creampie after creampie, car sex, hotel sex... might miss out some but pls.

growing up as a trio—jake, sunghoon, and jay always, and always made sure that no secrets are kept from one another. from highschool, and attending the same college, they stuck together like glue—rooming in the same dorm block, sharing the same late–night runs, copying each other’s work despite not taking the same major but shared classes.

they called themselves 02z (and sunghoon always thought that it was corny) and no matter what happened, the rule was simple: no secrets. everything got laid out on the table—the good, the bad, the ugly, and the embarrassing. 

and they’d proven it time and time again.

like the time jake got stupidly drunk at a house party at the age of seventeen, and jay had to haul his half–conscious ass back through the window of his bedroom while sunghoon knocked on the front door and entertained jake’s father from finding out.

or the time jay accidentally broke the school’s window and to prevent him from getting suspended and kicked out of the football team, jake stepped forward and took the blame—”i threw it too hard to impress a girl, sorry.” he flashed that innocent puppy smile and accepted the week’s detention without complaint. jay never forgot it and paid him back by covering his shifts for two whole weeks.

but the real payment was the tighter bond between them.

“ride or die,” sunghoon had said once. and in a world where friendships were shallow and people stabbed each other in the back, the three of them were unbreakable. like a stream of water, it cannot be cut—

but even the strongest stream can be diverted when the faucet is turned.

——

 funny enough—the first time jay saw you was during one of his football friendly matches. 

it was a casual friday afternoon game, nothing serious, just the medic faculty versus the business for bragging rights and free drinks afterward. jay was on the field in his number 99 jersey, sweat already soaking the back of his neck under the orange sun.

his girlfriend, minji, was sitting in the small bleachers with a couple of her friends, waving at him every time he glanced her way. he’d blown her a kiss before the whistle, the perfect boyfriend move that made his teammates tease him later.

and you weren’t even supposed to be there for him. 

you were merely just a friend with one of the strikers in his team—and had come along because he (martin) had begged you to at least pretend to cheer so he doesn’t look like a loser. you sat on the grass near the sidelines, knees pulled up in those pretty shorts and prettier top. 

you weren’t attention seeking or loud, but jay found his eyes travelling to you more often than he’d like to. light, genuine laughter that cut through the noise of the field and scored him square in the chest. he almost lost the ball.

and if it wasn’t after the match that everyone gathered near the benches to talk about what happened and martin pulled you in to join the conversation. you, being youself—ever so friendly and talkative you, even prettier up close and funnier than most girls he know—chatted with the rest of the boys like you’d known them for months.

jay stood there, still catching his breath, tower slung over his shoulder, watching you. the conversation flowed naturally and he found himself grinning wider than he should, eyes lingering on the way your lips curved when you smiled.

“you played so well. even if your team totally got lucky on that last goal,” you commented, casually sitting next to jay on the bench. jay laughed, humming. “yeah? that never happened by the way—so it was probably your luck.”

you raised an eyebrow, amused, turning your body slightly toward him. “you think so?”

the way you said it made something in his chest tighten in the best way possible. most girls would either just giggle or try too hard, but you looked like you were genuinely enjoying the back–and–forth. 

he leaned back on the bench, resting his elbows behind him. his jersey clung to his chest, damp with sweat, but neither of you care. for once, he was grateful his girlfriend wasn’t around.

“maybe,” he replied, that smirk tugging at his lips. “or maybe you’re bad luck for the other team. every time you cheered us, their defense fell apart. i saw it.”

you let out the laugh that got him almost distracted on the field earlier—and shook your head. “you’re so smooth, jay. do you use that line on every girl who watches your game?” 

uh, oh. 

his smirk faltered for half a second. he let out a quick, awkward laugh and rubbed the back of his neck to play it cool. “of course not,” he said, chuckling a little too loudly. “that would be way too cheesy. i swear i’m not that kind of guy.”

you tilted your head, studying him with glint in your eyes. then, casually, almost too casually, you dropped it—

“i thought so! you kept blowing kisses to a girl earlier. i saw it.”

jay went quiet.

the easy smile on his face froze. his fingers tightened slightly around his water bottle as the words landed. he swore—he swore—he didn’t mean to come off as flirty or anything, but it just… came out naturally. 

like it was just you.

for a moment, he didn’t know what to say. he hadn’t even realised you’d noticed that. 

“yeah, well…” he started, voice trailing off. he looked away for a second, heartbeat drumming fast, searching for the right words that wouldn’t make him sound like a complete asshole. 

before he could finish, you broke into a soft giggle and waved your hand lightly in front of him. “i’m just joking, hehe,” you said, mischievous. “relax. you don’t have to look so guilty.”

jay let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, the tension in his shoulder easing as he laughed along. you were teasing him, but the way you said it so playfully made his tummy flip. 

he finally met your eyes, watching the way your lips curved when you smiled like that. relax. you don’t have to look so guilty. then, before he could talk himself out of it, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and held it out to you. 

“put your number in,” he said, smoother and calmer now. “next time we play, you could be our lucky charm again.” 

you’re not stupid. if anything, martin would’ve invited you to the next matches anyway. but you took the phone anyway—fingers brushed against his. you saved yourself as yn, followed with a little soccer ball emoji and handed it back.

“don’t blow me kisses though,” you teased lightly as you stood up, brushing invisible dust from your shorts.

jay watched your back as you walked away, phone warm in his hand, your contact staring back at him. it’s harmless—it’s just a number and you’re just a girl who was easy and fun to talk to.

but the further you got from him, the more it’s clear to jay that he was going to text you tonight. 

and the first turn of the faucet happened—quietly, and completely without anyone knowing, not even jay himself.

——

“oh my gosh, my player,” you moaned sensually, tipping your head back as jay lifted you up around his waist with ease. 

his strong hands gripped the back of your thighs, fingers digging into your soft skin as he pressed you against the cool metal locker. the contrast between the cold surface on your back and the heat of his body made you shiver.

jay’s mouth was on yours instantly—hungry, deep, messy, and horny. he kissed you like he’d been starving from it since the first whistle was blown, tongue sliding against yours while low groans rumbled deep from his chest. 

“fuck baby, you feel so good like this,” he rasped between kisses, grinding his hard cock against your bare pussy. the thin fabric of his shorts was the only thing separating you, and you could feel every inch of him throbbing, already leaking like a little boy for you. 

“my little reward.”

you wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers threading through his damp hair as you rocked your hips against him, chasing the friction. “hngh—you did so well… how are you so good at everything?” another sensual moan slipped from your lips when he shifted and rubbed the head of his cock against your swollen clit. 

“am i?” his lips trailed down your jaw to your neck, sucking and biting lightly, leaving faint marks he knew he shouldn’t but couldn’t stop himself from making. one hand stayed under your thigh, holding you up effortlessly, while the other squeezed your tit, thumb flicking over your perky nipple until you whimpered. 

“look at you,” he murmured against your skin, voice hoarse with list. “so fucking wet and ready for me after i won. you like being my secret celebration, baby?” 

you nodded eagerly, pussy twitching and clenching around nothing but the idea of jay’s thick cock inside. sensing that—he pulled his shorts down just enough to free his cock, thick and heavy, tip glistening with a bead of precum. 

“i want you—fuck me, please,” you cry out, leaning to kiss him.

without another word, jay lined himself up and pushed inside you in one slow, deep thrust—stretching you open, filling you completely. a broken moan tore from your throat as he bottomed out, walls clenching tight around him. the guy buried his face in your neck, groaning loudly at how perfectly you took him. 

“shit… so tight,” he breathed, staying still to let you adjust—but not for long before he started moving, sensual, deep rolls of his hips that dragged his cock against every sensitive spot. “oh god, yesyesyes, just like that,”

the locker rattled with every thrust. your legs tightened around his waist, heels dragging into his lower back as he fucked you against the cool metal, mouth never leaving your skin. he kissed, licked, and sucked at your neck and collarbone while his pace gradually picked up, turning deeper and harder.

“mine tonight,” he whispered roughly, one hand slipping between your bodies to rub tight circles on your wet, sensitive clit. you moaned louder, bud ticklish and feeling like you were going to squirt—which you did, just seconds after. 

jay’s so good and gentle with how he’s treating you it’s making your chest flutter. “yours, jay, yours,” you gasped as the head of his cock knocked against your cervix—jerking your body upwards with each pound.

“my pretty little trophy… taking my cock so well after the game.”

your moans grew louder, more desperate, echoing softly in the empty, locked, locker room as he drove into you again and again and again—sensual, hot, sinful, and so fucking good.

jay’s breathing turned ragged, forehead pressed to yours as he chased both your highs, the wet slap of your skin and your shared gasps filling the air. the player ended up cumming—shooting ropes and ropes of warm jizz on your pretty little face, landing some on your head.

seeing how well you’re cleaning his cock—jay realised he was far from done with you.

——

for sim jaeyun, everything had its place, neatly stacked in order of importance.

first came his family—always. then his friends (sunghoon and jay at top, then the rest of the people he knows). layla, his border collie, squeezed into that top tier too. studies came strongly after that because he believed it’s 100% his future—

and finally, only then—way down the list—came fun.

and fun included his girlfriend, chloe. she was sweet, understanding, and never complained when he told her he had to study late or hang out with the boys. jake liked that about her—she knew her place in his priorities, and she respected it.

he never meant to rearrange that list. 

“sorry we can’t do this at my apartment,” jake said, rubbing the back of his neck. “my girlfriend’s been staying over a lot lately and… yeah. i didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”

you and jake shared multiple classes since the start of the semester, sitting in the same lecture halls but he’d never really talked to you. not until the professor paired you two together for a major project that counted half of the final grade.

now here you were—tucked away in a quiet, secluded corner of the library on the third floor. jake sat across from you, laptop open, highlighter between his teeth as he scribbled notes. you leaned back in your chair, legs crossed, a small knowing smile playing on your lips.

unlike the easy friendliness you’d shown jay, something about jake brought out a slightly different side of you—a bit more teasing, more… dominant? like you enjoyed watching the good boy squirm a little. 

“that’s okay, jakey,” you replied, tilting your head, eyes locked onto his. “anywhere is fine at least we get it done, right?”

jake blinked, caught off guard by the nickname but didn’t comment on it. his cheeks warmed slightly, but he laughed it off. “yeah… exactly. studies first, you know? gotta keep priorities straight.” 

you hummed, leaning forward on your elbow, chin resting on your hand as you watched him. jake had to do everything just from glancing at your cleavage sticking out from your shirt. the way your gaze lingered made the air between you feel a little heavier, more intimate—and jake figured this was why most girls wouldn’t want their boyfriends around a girl.

a pretty one at that too.

“that’s good. keeping everything in order like that, hehe.”

the words slipped out casually but jake’s ears turned pink anyway. he shifted in his seat, suddenly hyper–aware of how secluded this corner was—no one could really see the two of you back here.

he tried to steer the conversation back to the project, pointing at the screen as you scooted closer beside him. “so… for this second, i was thinking we could—”

“oh—you typed quantitative wrong here—” 

you leaned in and pointed at the typo on his laptop screen. in the process, your chest brushed against his arm, soft and warm through your thin top that jake swore he felt the sponge of your bra. 

jake froze.

his breath hitched, eyes widening for a split second as he felt the brief press of your chest against his bicep. a rush of heat shot straight through him and you felt the way he tensed up.

“oh—shit, sorry,” you said quickly, pulling back a little, though your voice didn’t sound even an ounce of guilt if he was being honest. “didn’t mean to interrupt you like that.”

his mouth went dry. he could still feel the ghost of the touch on his arm, and his brain was suddenly struggling to form normal sentences. “n—no, it’s okay,” he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck, cheeks now matching the pink of his ears.

“don’t worry about it.”

you bit your lip to hide a small smile, watching the way composed jake was suddenly flustered. the good boy who kept his priorities straight was starting to crack a little. instead of moving back, you stayed right where you were—shoulders almost touching his, close enough that your perfume filled his nostrils. 

you pointed at the screen again, this time more carefully, your nails tapping on the lcd. your voice dropped softer, with a hint of light dominant slipping through.  

“see? right here. fix it, jakey.”

jake swallowed hard, nodding quickly as his fingers moved to the keyboard. but it was hard to focus on the project anymore—not when every time you shifted even slightly, he became hyper–aware of how close you were, and how dangerous his mind was playing at.

that damn cleavage and top.

maybe it was because jake met you during one of his ‘studying’ sessions, but you were quick to climb up his carefully built hierarchy. just like jay, you were easy to talk to, quick with your thoughts, and somehow jake liked… being told what to do. shamelessly.

“you’re so good at this,” you hummed softly, scooting your chair just a tiny bit closer until your knee brushed his under the table. “what’s something you’re not good at?” 

you meant the project—but you also knew men like jake would divert the meaning elsewhere. something jake’s not good at is probably standing on his morals and keeping his priorities straight. 

not when he’s easily swayed like this.

——

just two months after that, jake’s stacked priorities crumbled.

parked in a quiet, dimly lit corner of the campus parking lot at 11:49 p.m., the backseat of his car fogged up. he had a chemistry exam the next day—yet here he was. 

“jakey…” you whispered against his mouth, voice low and teasing as you cupped his cheeks, fingers tapping against his skin. “you’re thinking too much again.” you continued, straddling his lap and brushing your lips against his.

“it’s late…” he breathed, even as his hands gripped your waist tighter, pulling you down harder against the obvious bulge in his jeans. “test t’morrow… chloe… fuck, this is so wrong.”

you pouted playfully, rolling your hips and grinding against him in the meantime. “but you’ll ace the test tomorrow anyway, why bother?” you hummed, pressing your lips against him. jake groaned, head falling back against the seat. you purposely ignored the latter problem.

his morals screamed at him, but his body betrayed him completely.

clothes were pushed aside rather than fully removed—your skirt flipped up, panties pulled to the side, his jeans shoved down just enough. he had you on all fours, exactly how he liked it best: doggy style.

as all up for him to watch as it jiggles—yeah, fuck yeah. jake’s hands gripped your hips tightly as he pushed into you from behind in one, full, deep thrust—instantly burying himself deep with a broken moan.

“shit—you feel so good, yn,” he gasped, forehead pressing between your shoulder blades for a second. the angle was beyond perfect—the cramped car, and your tight, wet, cunt while being so deep he could feel every clench around him. 

“uh huh? what else?”

he started moving, savouring the way your back arched for him, the way you pushed back to meet every thrust, the way your ass jiggled when his pelvis slapped ‘em. “so tight, your pussy’s so tight, yn,” he rasped, picking up his pace. jake’s hips snapped harder, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the space of the car. “i love it—love your pussy,”

jake’s cock was probably the longest you’ve had, reaching so deep your fingers, toys, and other boys had never been able to. “oh god, jakey, you’re so good,” you moaned aloud, palms flat against the fogged window.

“you’re ruining me,” jake groaned, one hand sliding up to push you down lower, chest pressed against the seat while your ass stayed up for him. “can’t stop thinkin’ about this—about you.”

his balls slapped against your wet pussy, dragging you velvet walls with each time he pulled out. you moaned sensually, gripping the edge of the seat as he fucked you faster, coming close. “then don’t stop, just do me all the time.”

that pushed him over the edge. 

the boy’s grip tightened. he pulled you back onto his cock, deep with every thrust. the car rocked with his movements. “fuck, fuck, fuck,” he panted, sweat dripping down his temple, morals completely shattered as he took you exactly how he loved—deep, rough, playful.

“want your cum, gosh—fuck, cum all over me,” you gasped, saliva leaking out from the edge of your mouth. your pussy squelched with every thrust, juices splattering on the leather seat. what a shame to the girlfriend, really.

he leaned over you, one arm wrapped around your waist while the other braced beside your head, pounding into you harder as he began chasing his end. “shouldn’t… i really shouldn’t…” he groaned, voice strained and broken.

“c’mon, be a good boy—give it to me, cumcumcum,”

the praise pushed him over—with a final moan, jake pulled out of your dripping pussy. he flipped you onto your back in one motion, trapping you between his knees. his hand pumped his slick, wet cock furiously, eyes dark and wild as he hovered above you.

you looked up at him with a teasing glint in your eyes—lips parted, chest heaving, already arching your back and pushing your tits together for him. his abs tensed, jaw clenched tight.

“shit—i’m cumming—!”

thick liquidity, warm ropes of cum shot across your chest in messy spurts, painting your tits and collarbones white. some landed right on your nipple, dripping slowly down the curve which only caused jake to cum some more.

fuck, that’s so fucking hot—he thought, swallowing the lump in his throat as he kept stroking himself through it, milking every last drop until his cock twitched empty and his whole body shuddered. 

you licked around your lips, smearing jake’s cum all over your pretty tits. it looked like you were lactating his cum. 

“fuck… am i good enough, yn?” he murmured, chest heaving. “look at what you do to me.”

——

saturday night and sunghoon’s at a popular off–campus club with a group of his classmates. while he’s not much of a party guy, he came because one of them kept dragging him anyway, and he knew he couldn’t keep rejecting their advances for so long.

he’s sitting in the booth area, nursing drunks, bored, and detached while everyone else is loud and drunk. sunghoon doesn’t dance. doesn’t flirt. just watch.

that’s when he saw you.

you’re on the dance floor with your girlfriends, just being effortlessly sexy and attractive—the way your body swayed, hair sticking on your neck from the heat, the same curve of your smile that jay was starstrucked with. 

and that damn black dress that hugged your curves just right.

sunghoon’s eyes locked on you instantly, he didn't smile when your eyes met his as well across the floor—just watching. instead of looking away shyly, you held his gaze for a few seconds, then your eyes travelled from the top of his head down to his shoes, and  gave him a slow smile before turning back to your friends.

that was all it took for him.

sunghoon stood up, leaving his classmates’ drinks and stuffs on the table, and walked straight onto the crowd. he didn’t say anything at first—just slid in behind you, one hand slightly resting on your waist as he spun you around to meet him. 

“hey,” he murmured, tall frame towering over you. “what’s that about?”

you tilted your head slightly, a playful, faux innocence smile playing on your lips. “what’s what about?”

his eyebrows furrowed just a fraction, but the corner of his mouth twitched—the tiniest hint of amusement and a thought of, wow, the audacity. his hand stayed on your waist, thumb pressing lightly into the fabric of your dress, holding you in place. 

“that look you gave me,” he said, shrugging. “are you daring me?”

you let out a soft laugh that almost sounded like a scoff, eyes sparkling and laced with a kind of bratness that he never knew he was into. you didn’t pull away but instead stepped a little closer, letting your chest brush against his as you looked up at him through your lashes.

“and if i am?” you replied, sweetly. “what are you gonna do about it?”

morality had always been quite a blur to sunghoon.

he never lost sleep over it but rules, right and wrong, loyalty—they were just concepts that applied to other people. as long as it didn’t affect his image or his life or his close circle greatly, he didn’t care enough to draw hard lines.

and tonight, those blurry lines had just walked out of the club with him.

sunghoon didn’t say much as he guided you toward his black sedan by holding your hand in his. you glanced up at him, still wearing that same little smile. “you always drag girls out of clubs without asking their name?”

he unlocked the car with a soft beep and opened the front door for you. his eyes met yours—completely unbothered. “sunghoon,” he said simply. “and i don’t bring girls out anywhere.”

you let out a hum, but still slid into the front seat without hesitation. he followed right after, closing the door behind him. the inside of his car smelled strongly of his cologne, and as he started the engine, he didn’t bother with small talks. didn’t ask where you lived, nor did he offer to take you home. 

sunghoon pulled out of the parking lot and drove toward the city centre with his one hand occasionally brushing your thigh. you watched the streetlights flicker across his jawline and the way his expression said nothing eventhough the tension between you two in the car reeked with want.

“so… where are we going?”

“a hotel. closer than my place.”

——

the door had barely clicked shut before sunghoon had you pressed against the wall, mouth crashing into yours in a deep. hungry kiss. there was nothing gentle about it—his lips moved against yours with need, tongue sliding in immediately to taste you as one hand gripped your jaw, and the other pressed on your hip. 

and you—you kissed him back just as greedily, fingers digging into his shoulders, tugging at his shirt like you wanted it off yesterday. “ngh—hngh,” you moaned into his mouth, tongue intertwining and sucking on one another.

sunghoon broke the kiss only long enough to pull your dress up and over your head at once, letting it drop to the floor. his hands were on you instantly—squeezing your tits, sliding down to grip your ass, yanking you flush against him so you could feel how hard he was through his pants.

“fuck,” he muttered against your lips, voice low. he bit your bottom lip, then soothed it with his tongue before kissing you again, deeper this time. 

you moaned into his mouth, hands working frantically to unbutton his shirt and push it off his shoulders. the moment his bare chest pressed against yours, sunghoon groaned and lifted you up. your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he carried you across the room, lips still on yours.

he dropped you onto the bed, the mattress dipping. before you could even catch your breath, sunghoon was crawling over you, shoving his pants and boxers fully down to free his thick, heavy cock.

and jesus—unlike jay or jake’s, sunghoon was packing. 

“you’re so hot,” sunghoon licked his lips, hooked his fingers into your panties, ripped them down your legs, and spread your thighs wide open with his knees. he looked down at you for one brief second, then lined himself up. 

“are you gonna fuck me? without even knowing my name?”

sunghoon paused, the corner of his mouth twitching into a cocky smirk. finally, he didn’t look cold. he pushed just the tip inside you, teasing, before answering.

“i know you, yn,”

your eyes almost widened, a mix of surprise and arousal flashing across your features. 

“how?”

he leaned down closer, one hand gripping your thigh as he slowly sank another inch deeper, stretching your tight cunt open. “i overhead your friends,” he murmured, hissing through his teeth as your pussy engulfed him. 

you let out a soft moan, back arching as the familiar burn of being stretched came back to you. “fuck… you’re really something, hoonie.”

sunghoon bottomed out with a groan, burying himself to the hilt inside you. for a second, he stayed still—letting you feel and adjust every inch of him, his grip on your thighs tightened. you arched your back, eyes half–lidded as you looked up at him, that spark still burning bright behind your eyes. 

“fuck me good, hoonie,” you whispered, biting your bottom lip as you began palming and playing with your tits, tweaking the perky buds. “make it worth me leaving my friends for you.”

“shh—shut up and let me do the work.”

that night, sunghoon fucked you for hours—the bed creaked loudly beneath as he fucked you deep and fast, hips snapping against yours with every thrust. his hands held your thighs spread wide, keeping you open as he pounded. the wet sounds of your bodies echoing in the hotel room.

“fuck—your cunt feels s’good,” sunghoon moaned, tipping his head against the headrest, jaw clenched tight. you hovered right over his hard, slick cock. sunghoon’s eyes never left yours as you sank down onto him, taking every inch until your ass met his lap.

a broken moan left your lips at the deeper angle. sunghoon groaned too, his fingers digging harder. “look at you,” he murmured, eyes roaming over your face, your bouncing, marked, tits, lips parted in pleasure with your tongue sticking out. 

fuck. this is why sunghoon loved cowgirl. watching every lewd, pretty expression, every flutter of your eyelashes, your mouth opened to moan his name—because of this cock. 

you started moving, rolling your hips in sensual circles, then bouncing on his cock with more force. his hands guided you, but he let you do most of the work, just like he liked it. his gaze stayed locked on your face the entire time. 

“you’re so big, hoonie, oh jesus fuck,” you moaned eagerly, biting your lip. with each time you bounced on it, the head of his cock kissed your cervix sweetly and it felt so fucking good. he pulled you down closer by the nape of your neck, and kissed you deeply while you rode him. 

“that’s it… just like that, baby,” he rasped against your mouth, kissing the corner of your lips, then your cheek, then your jaw. “ride my cock like a good girl—let me see how pretty you look when you cum on me again.”

his free hand moved between your bodies to circle and pinch your perky buds. the combination made your rhythm falter, thighs shaking as you bounced faster, chasing the high. 

sunghoon kept watching you—obsessed. he kissed you again and again, swallowing your moans, occasionally bucking his hips to meet your movements and driving himself even deeper.

“cummin’ soon, babe?” he murmured against your lips, now moving his hand to rub that sensitive, wet, clit. “cum on me—then i’ll fill you up.”

you could only moan his name as the pleasure built higher and higher, your hips moving desperately. 

sunghoon, who never thought he’d ever cheat on sooha, let alone creampie another girl he just met raw—watched your face with almost possessive gaze. he had always been careful, even with someone who has little to no morals. 

and you—who had literally never let anyone cum inside you before—were seconds away from letting him be the first.

your thighs shook as the orgasm crashed over you. “fuck—!” you cried out, clenching hard around him, hips stuttering as you came and squirted all over his cock. the feeling of your pussy pulsing and gushing around him pushed sunghoon over the edge. 

thick, hot spurts of semen flooded inside you, filling you up the very first time. he kept thrusting through it, pushing his cum deeper. 

one night stand—this won’t ruin anything for sunghoon.

right?

——

“so,” jay started, leaning back against the railing with that smirk of his, “valentine’s next week. you guys already got plans locked in?” 

jake nodded, smiling. “don’t even say it. i booked the restaurant last month because i know she’ll kill me if i forget. we’ll probs just have dinner together.” he shook his head, sipping his canned beer. “gotta keep the girlfriend happy, right?”

sunghoon took a slow sip of his as well, shrugging and unbothered as ever. “i’ll probably just take sooha out on a breakfast and shopping. i got plans that night.” 

jay raised an eyebrow, turning to him with curiousity. “oh? what are you doing that night?”

he didn’t even flinch, just stared down at the small puddle of water around the can opening where his mouth kissed it. “bringing yeji out,” he said, absentmindedly swirling the alcohol in the can. “she’s been begging me to take her out. figured valentine’s night is as good as any.”

jake let out a laugh, completely buying it. “damn, she’s gonna milk you dry.” he commented, then glanced at jay from where he’s sitting. “what about you? something big again?”

“nah, think minji wants something intimate this time.” he hummed, looking out at the yard—people were chatting, dancing, and drunk to their heads. “maybe i’ll cook and we’ll spend the day at mine. who knows.” 

“what a romance.”

the three of them continued talking easily—hopping from one topic to another—arguing whose girlfriend was more demanding, whose more whipped, and reminiscing about things they’ll never get back. 

none of them even knew that they each shared the same secret—and little did they know, she was walking around the party downstairs right under their noses. 

down in the crowded kitchen, you leaned against the counter, red cup in hand, while heeseung stood in front of you—close enough that his arm rested on the counter beside your waist. 

“oh, i don’t have a boyfriend,” you replied, taking a small sip from your cup while holding his gaze. heeseung grinned, leaning in a little closer and lowering his voice so only you could hear him over the loud music. 

“good. because i’ve been wanting to ask you out for a while now. you’re always so hard to catch alone.” his fingers lightly tapped the counter next to your hip. “what do you say? let me take you somewhere nice this valentines?”

you bit your lip, pretending to think about it—

but before you could answer, a familiar voice cut through the noise. 

“yn?” 

sunghoon.

he was frowning. the usual expression on his face didn’t change much except for the tightness of his jaw, and the way his gaze flicked to heeseung’s hand near your hip.

heeseung turned his head, still smiling. “oh, hey man—”

sunghoon didn’t let him finish.

without a word, he reached out, wrapped his fingers around your waist and firmly pulled you away from the counter and away from heeseung. “come with me,” he said quietly, already leaving the kitchen.

you barely had time to shoot heeseung an apologetic smile before sunghoon guided you through the crowd, up the stairs, and into one of the empty guest rooms on the second floor. he closed the door—but didn’t lock it—the party noise instantly muffled.

“the fuck was that?” he asked, frowning and confused. “heeseung? really? you let him get that close to you?”

sunghoon took a step closer, towering over, eyes narrowed. 

“i thought we had an understanding,” he continued, laced with unfair possessiveness. “you didn’t even tell me you’d be here—then i caught you with some dude flirting?” 

before you could form a reply, his hand came up to grip your cheeks, forcing you to meet his gaze. “you couldn’t wait till i take you out on valentines?”

you looked up at him, a scoff escaped you—and a small smile tugged at your lips. “so you can have fun with sooha… but i can’t do the same with heeseung?”

his jaw tightened; and for a second, he just stared at you, thumb brushing over your lower lips. he let out a low, breathy scoff, almost a laugh—but there was no humour in it. “you’re really testing me,” he murmured, clicking his tongue.

“sooha’s my girlfriend. she gets breakfast and shopping because that’s what keeps everything quiet. you…” he paused, free hand slid down to your waist where he squeezed the flesh. “you get me at night. isn’t that better? i’m about to fuck you all night and you’re gettin’ jealous over some fucking breakfast?”

he tilted your head slightly, fingers digging into your flesh. 

“don’t compare yourself to her. and don’t let another guy put his hands near you again.”

he crashed his lips against yours in a hungry, possessive kiss, gripping your jaw tighter as he devoured your mouth. the kiss was messy and intense—tongues sliding, teeth grazing, low groans between you.

you kissed him back just as fiercely, fingers threading into his hair and tugging hard, making him groan into your mouth.

“fuuuccckkk,” he grunted between the kiss—turning and walking you backwards until your legs hut the edge of the bed. without breaking the kiss, sunghoon pushed you down onto the mattress and climbed on top of you, body pressing into the sheets. 

his hands roamed greedily—one sliding under your dress to grip your thigh, the other pinning your wrists above your head. “oh my, hngh,” you moaned softly, arching up into him as he ground his hips down against you. sunghoon bit your bottom lip, then soothed it with his tongue.

“always pissin’ me off—”

his phone suddenly started ringing on the nightstand.

sunghoon ignored it initially, lips moving down to your neck, sucking hard enough to leave another mark as the ringing continued. “jesus—shut the fuck up…” he murmured, merely glancing at his phone. he assumed it was just one of his friends, or just anyone but—

“sunghoon, you in here—?”

jake’s voice died in his throat. jay stood right beside him, phone in his hand—both of them froze in the doorway, eyes wide as they took in the scene. 

you lying on the bed, dress hiked up, lips swollen from kissing. sunghoon on top of you, one hand under your dress, his lips glistened from saliva, hair messy from your fingers.

for a long, suffocating second, nobody moved. 

sunghoon’s head snapped up, eyes widening in genuine shock, his expression completely shattered—he was caught. fucking caught. by his own bestfriends. they weren’t supposed to fucking know that he’s not loyal to sooha. the same two guys he swore loyalty to since teenangers.

the colour drained from his face. 

jake and jay stared, wide–eyed, stunned. 

“...yn?” jake breathed out first, voice barely above a whisper, like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. jay’s mouth opened, then closed—replaced by pure disbelief. instead of addressing the elephant in the room—which was sunghoon fucking cheating—your name came out first. 

the realisation hit them both at the same time—how the fuck did all of them came to know you? if jay knew you because of his affair, and jake knew you too—and sunghoon too—then were they all having an affair with you?

they’d been secretly fucking the same girl for months—?!

you, still pinned under sunghoon, felt your stomach drop.

“oh my fucking gosh…” you whispered, eyes wide, a nervous laugh bubbling out of you before you could stop it. you propped yourself up on your elbows, hand flew up to cover your mouth, but it was useless. 

the shock, the absurdity, the fact that you had been playing all three of them without any of them knowing… it was all crashing down at once. 

sunghoon finally pulled his hand out from under your dress and sat up slightly. he looked between his two bestfriends, voice strained. “look—this isn’t what it looks like.”

jake let out a broken, disbelieving laugh. “you’re on top of her, dude.”

jay’s grip tightened—he stared at you like he was seeing you for the first time. 

“you.. and sunghoon?” his voice cracked. “how long has this been going on?”

the room was thick and silent for half a second.

then it clicked. 

sunghoon’s eyes narrowed and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he looked at jay—then slowly turned his head toward jake. the realisation hit him. “wait…” he muttered. “how the fuck do you know her?”

jake’s face went pale—he blinked rapidly and swallowed the lump in his throat. “yeah… how do you know yn?”

jay’s mouth opened, but no words came out at first. his gaze flicked between you and sunghoon, confusion turning into dawning horror. sunghoon sat up straighter, but not off you. all three boys were now staring directly at you.

“how do you know jay?”

“and how the hell do you know jake?”

“you and sunghoon—?”

now the focus shifted entirely on you.

you were still lying on the bed, dress rumpled, lips swollen, heart hammering in your chest. three pairs of eyes—shocked, jealous, and confused—were locked on you. 

“i—” 

you tried to sit up, tugging your dress down with shaky hands. “i—i didn’t know? ah, i swear… it just… happened? i mean—”

you were clearly flustered, words tumbling out in a nervous rush. “i never thought—i didn’t know you guys knew each other—?”

before you could finish, jake reached behind him and closed the door with a soft click, locking the four of you inside. both of them walked closer to the bed, their expressions shifting from confusion to something more of—betrayal and disbelief.

jay ran a hand through his hair, letting out a short laugh. “wow… you’ve been fucking all of us?” his voice was low, eyes wide. “our own friend group?”

why didn’t they blame each other—? you thought, swallowing the lump in your throat. you guys were the asshole cheaters in the first place! so they could cheat on their girlfriends, but god forbids a girl have fun with multiple guys?

“have you been playing us the whole time? jake asked. “letting jay fuck you, me, now sunghoon pinning you down like that?”

just as you were about to open your mouth, sunghoon squished your cheeks together and slammed his lips against yours roughly—teeth clashing and grazing your lips. you whimpered into the kiss, hands instinctively grabbing his shirt. 

when sunghoon finally pulled back, you grasped for air. his thumb dragged across your botton lip. “there’s no point hiding anymore, is there?”

the tension snapped. 

jay moved first, climbing onto the bed and grabbing your wrist, pulling you toward him. “c’mere, baby.” jake was right behind him, kneeling on your other side. sunghoon stayed where he was, between your knees, watching as his two bestfriends started touching you.

in seconds, your dress was being yanked up and over your head. hands were everywhere—jake’s mouth on your neck, jay’s hands squeezing your tits, sunghoon’s fingers hooking into your panties and dragging them down your legs. 

you were panting, head spinning from the sudden overload.

“look at her,” jay murmured, voice thick as he pinched your nipple, eliciting a moan. “pretty little side chick… been taking all three of us like a whore.” jake groaned, kissing down your chest. “and we thought we were the only ones… fuck, that’s so hot.”

sunghoon gripped your jaw again, turning your face toward him. “open your mouth.”

the second you did, and he kissed you again—rough and deep—while jay and jake worked together pleasing your tits. jay’s hand wandered along your tummy—down to your bare, wet cunt. 

his fingers slid between your folds, groaning when he felt how wet you already were. “shit, so soaked.”

“fuckin’ dripping for us already,” sunghoon said, moving to give jake a space to settle between your spread legs. “turn over,” sunghoon ordered, commanding as he grabbed your hips. “on your hands and knees now, c’mon.”

your body obeyed before your brain could catch up—which shocked jake a little since with him, you were never this obedient. you were flipped onto all fours in the middle of the bed, ass up, back arched, completely exposed.

jake gripped your asscheeks, spreading them wide enough as he leaned in and dragged his tongue slowly from your clit, all the way up to your dripping hole. “fuck, taste s’good,” he moaned, his cock beneath his pants twitched. he dove back in, licking and sucking messily while jay knelt in front of you. he tilted your chin up, hard cock already freed from his pants, thick and leaking. 

“open that pretty mouth, baby.”

you parted your lips and he instantly pushed the head of his cock past them, sliding deep into your warm mouth with a satisfied groan. “oh, fuuuuck… your mouth always feels s’good…”

sunghoon stayed at your side, one hand already palming and stroking his cock while the other reached underneath to rub circles on your clit as jake french–kissed your pussy. “look at you,” sunghoon murmured. “what a slut… taking all taken men at once. this what you wanted, isn’t it?”

jake hummed against your pussy and you felt the curve of his mouth forming into a smile—the vibration making your thighs quiver. jay thrusted into your mouth, hand tangled in your hair. “been screwing each of us behind the other’s backs…” jay groaned, pushing deeper until you gagged. 

“greedy little girl.”

your muffled moan around jay’s cock was the only answer they needed. 

jake was the first to pull back from between your legs, shiny with your juices. he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, swimming with pure need. “i’m going first,” he said, settling behind you. “been dying to fuck you again since the last time.”

sunghoon and jay didn’t argue. they simply shifted positions.

jake moved behind you, gripping your hips tightly and lining up his hard cock with your dripping entrance. without any warning or heads up, he pushed in with one deep thrust—bottoming out in a single stroke. 

“oh, fuuuck…” he groaned aloud, head falling back as your tight walls clenched around him. “still so ’ tight… missed this pussy so much.” jake started thrusting—deep strokes that rocked your body forward.

at the same time, sunghoon knelt in front of you. he grabbed your hair gently but firmly, guiding your mouth to his cock. “open up,” he ordered quietly. you obeyed, lips parting as he slid his thick length into your mouth. sunghoon let out a groan, eyes half–lidded as he watched you take him inch by inch.

jay moved to your side, kneeling close enough that his cock was right next to your face. your hand instinctively wrapped around his length, stroking his wet cock while you sucked his best friend’s. 

the room filled with wet, porno sounds—jake’s hips slapping against your ass as he fucked you from behind, the slick sounds of your mouth working sunghoon’s dick, and your hand pumping jay’s length. every now and then, jake would slap you ass—gripping, squeezing, and spreading and watched as your asshole twitched. 

“aw, pretty baby,” jay grunted, wrapping his bigger hand around yours as he guided you through it out. “taking all three of us so well, mm? perfect girl.”

next to him, sunghoon scoffed. jake panted and runted like a dog—gripping your hips harder as he pounded into you. “oh—hah—you feel so good, oh fuck, i missed this so much—missed you so much.”

sunghoon glanced at jake before his hand tightened in your hair, guiding your head as he picked up his pace fucking your mouth. “that’s it… suck me just like that—how you’d do with all the other guys, babe.”

jay groaned, hips twitching into your fist. “yeah—? do you have other guys you’re fucking aside us, yn?”

you instantly shook your head as much as you could with sunghoon’s cock buried in your mouth, a desperate, muffled, “mm—mm” vibrating around him. 

“right,” sunghoon clicked his tongue. the memory of you getting hit on by heeseung playing in the back of his head. if you were able to hide jake and jay from him for months—who knew who else?

every thrust from jake pushed you forward onto sunghoon’s cock, forcing you to take him even deeper down your throat. you were gagging around him, drool slipping from the corners of your mouth but you kept sucking.

jake’s rhythm started to falter. his grip on your hips tightened almost painfully as he fucked you harder from behind. “hah—i’m close, oh god,” he groaned. “wanna fill you up—i can fill you up, right? hngh—you’ll let me?”

he slammed into you a few more times, deep and desperate, burying himself to the hilt. now—jay and sunghoon never knew jake was someone who’s into this but who were they to judge? the contrast between how you were with jake, sunghoon, and jay made them want to laugh.

with jay, you’re treated as the princess of the princess—sweet, gentle, kind words—like you’re the girlfriend. with jake, you got to order and command—and he’s always so fucking into being called a good boy. with sunghoon? with sunghoon—you’re the brat that needed some punishment. 

you nodded your head and that was all jake needed. 

“hah—cumming—” he rasped. you felt the first hot spurts of his cum flood deep inside you. the puppy boy kept grinding into you, milking every drop as he creampied you, his cock twitching. a low whine escaped your throat, muffled.

when jake finally pulled out, a thick trail of his cum leaked from your cunt.

“next,” jake panted, voice hoarse as he moved aside.

they filled you onto your back. 

the player immediately took his place between your legs, but instead of fucking you missionary, he turned you slightly onto your side. he lifted your top leg, hooking it over his hip, and instantly slid his throbbing cock into your cum–filled cunt in one thrust. 

“ah—! jay!” you moaned aloud, followed by jay’s groan. the warmth from jake’s cum wasn’t helping the situation at all. it felt so fucking good. “she’s so slippery with your cum, jake… so filthy.”

he started fucking you from the side—deep, rolling thrusts that let him hit every sensitive spot. you’re beyond embarrassed at this point. your creamy pussy that gushes cum with each thrust, how exposed and bare and wet you were for the other two boys to see. 

you wondered if this was the consequences of your actions. 

jake moved up beside your head, still breathing hard. he groped your tits greeding—how he loved them—squeezing and kneading, pinching your sweaty nipples as he leaned down to kiss and bite along your neck.

‘hngh—yn, i love these so much,” he muffled, sucking and tugging at your boobs. “so soft, you’re so squishy.” 

sunghoon shifted to your other side, cupping your jaw and pulling you into a deep, messy kiss. his tongue slid against yours while jay continued fucking you from the side, the wet sounds of his cock plunging into your creampied pussy filling the room.

sunghoon kissed you like he couldn’t bear not doing anything while the other two boys had their fun. he was almost annoyed and pissed that they just had to interrupt him having you all to himself earlier. 

“is this what you like?” jake murmured against your neck, his hands never stopping roaming. he groped your breasts, rolled your nipples between his fingers, then slid one hand down to rub your clit in lazy circles while jay thrusted into you. “taking jay’s dick right after i filled you up… you’re so hot, yn.”

“hngh—jay, oh fuck, you’re so big—” you moaned into sunghoon’s mouth in which he instantly shut you up. jay groaned, picking up the pace, hips snapping harder. “fuck. i can feel your cum every time i push in, jake. poor sweetheart, do you like this, baby?”

sunghoon pulled back from the kiss just enough to let you breathe, lips brushing yours. “answer him while he’s fucking you.”

your body trembled between the three guys as you answered: “yes, yes, yesyesyes—! i—i love all three of you, oh my fuck!” you cried out, chasing sunghoon’s lips as you began sucking his bottom lip. you moaned shamelessly into his mouth while jay’s cock dragged against your walls.  

“we love you too.”

behind you, jay smirked—and jake couldn’t help from smiling. 

“show us how much you love it, please?” jake murmured against your nipple, his fingers never slowing down—pressing and rubbing your clit. “squirt for us—make a mess all over jay’s dick.”

he began rubbing harder—and the pressure coiled fast. too fast.

before you knew it, your thighs started shaking uncontrollably. your back arched sharply as jake’s fingers and jay’s cock worked you together. “oh, i’m gonna—!”

you didn’t even get to finish. 

with a loud, broken cry, you squired around jay’s cock. clear fluid gushed out of you, soaking jay’s hips, the sheets, and jake’s hand. your whole body convulsed, pussy clenching and pulsing violently. 

“fuck—!” jay groaned, eyes rolling back as your walls squeezed him like a vice. the feeling of you squiring all over him while still full of jake’s cum pushed him over the edge. without any warning, he buried himself deep and came—thick ropes of cum shooting right inside. 

he kept grinding into you through his orgasm, pushing every drop deeper as your squirt continued to leak around his cock. 

sunghoon watched the while thing, still kissing you through your high, swallowing every broken moan and whimper. 

when jay finally stilled, panting against your shoulder, the room was filled with heavy breathing and the obscene sound of cum and squirt dripping onto the sheets. jake leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your nipple while his fingers slowed on your oversensitive clit.

“good girl…” jay murmured, kissing your temple. “such a perfect girl.”

jay pulled out slowly, another mix of squirt and both their cum leaking out of your used cunt like whipped cream, jay smirked, giving your ass a squeeze. 

“my turn.”

sunghoon didn’t waste a single second.

he moved between your legs, pushing them wide open as he settled on top of you in full missionary, his frame caged you in, eyes locked onto yours that always made your tummy flip. without warning, he slid two fingers deep into your cum–filled pussy, curcling them instantly.

“hah—hoonie—!” you gasped, back arching off the bed as he started fingering you—fast and deep, wet sounds loud and filthy as he stirred jake and jay’s cum inside you. “feel that, babe? he muttered. “so full already—yet so slutty for more.”

he pumped his fingers harder, scissoring them, pushing the mixed loads deeper while his thumb rub your swollen clit. your legs trembled around him, overstimulation making tears prick.

only when you were whimpering and gasping did sunghoon finally pull his fingers out. he brought them up to your mouth.

“clean ‘em.”

you obediently opened your lips, sucking his fingers clean of the messy mix of cum while he watched. then, he lined up his thick, needy cock—and pushed into you in one deep thrust, slow enough to let you feel every inch and veins of him. 

a broken moan tore from your throat.

sunghoon bottomed out, holding your hips. “shit… so warm and wet,” he breathed, and began to move. his thrusts were hard and deliberate, hips snapping forward with every stroke, driving jake and jay’s cum even deeper.

he kept you in missionary the whole time—face to face, eyes locked, his body pressed flush against yours. one hand gripped your thigh, spreading you wider. the other slid up to wrap gently around your throat, holding you there.

“open your mouth.” 

you obeyed instantly, lips paring, tongue slightly out naturally.

sunghoon leaned in first. he gathered spit in his mouth and let it drop slowly onto your tongue, watching with a smirk as it landed right on your tongue. jake moved in simultaneously, hovering above you as he spat directly into your open mouth, a thick string of saliva mixing with sunghoon’s. jay too—tilted your head upward gently before spitting into your mouth as well. 

all three of their spit mixed together on your tongue—so fucking humiliating in the best way. 

“swallow, baby, c’mon,” jay murmured, kissing your cheek. sunghoon tightened his grip on your throat just a little, you swallowed the thick saliva, throat bobbing under his palm. the taste of all three of them made your pussy clench hard around sunghoon’s cock.

“fuck, she just squeezed me,” sunghoon groaned, picking up the pace, fucking you harder. “such a nasty little cumslut.”

jake chuckled, leaning down to kiss the corner of your mouth as he palmed your tits. jay’s hand slid down to rub your clit as sunghoon pounded into you deeply—”nasty little girl, look at you,” jay murmured, caressing your hair.

“you love being used like this? who taught you to be so slutty, baby, hm?”

sunghoon’s eyes never left yours—your half–lidded, crossed, rolled to the back glossy eyes. he fucked you relentlessly, wet squelching sounds of his cock stirring the mixed cum inside you filling the room. his hand stayed around your throat as he fucked your cunt like a fleshlight, claming while jake had his fun with your tits, and jay continued teasing your clit from the side.

you were a complete mess—trembling, moaning, drooling… barely got to focus on the moving ceiling above. your tits bounced and jiggled with every thrust—a sight jake could cum alone. 

sunghoon’s thrusts grew sharper, deeper, and more desperate. his grip on you throat tightened just a fraction as he groaned against your lips. “fuck… ‘m cummin’—”

he straightened up, canines digging into his bottom lip as he buried himself to the hilt and came hard. the hardest he’s ever ejaculated. thick, hot ropes of cum flooded and washed over deep inside you, mixing with the cum from jake and jay before. 

as usual, he kept grinding into you, pushing every drop as deep as possible while his cock twitched inside your overused, overfilled pussy.

at the same time, the two boys kneeled on either side of your head—jerking themselves off furiously above you, breathing heavily. “shit, shit, shit,” jay rasped, thick spurts of cum landing across your tits and collarbones. 

“oh, gosh, yn, please,” jake whimpered, following just right after as he painted your face and chest with more warm cum. their softened cocks rested on your chest, with jay’s twitching again as it rubbed your nipple.

you lay there, panting, body covered in their cum—tits glistening like you milked out semen, pussy leaking a creamy mix of all three of them, throat marked from sunghoon’s hands and jake’s bites, lips swollen from jay’s kisses. 

the room was silent except for heavy breathing and panting.

sunghoon pulled out—agonisingly slow—watching his thick cum drip and burst out from your stretched hole. fuck—what a sight, he thought. he wasn’t sure if this would be the last time. your pussy twitched and spasmed around nothing, thighs trembling with orgasm as you shivered. 

jay leaned to press a chaste kiss on your cheek. jake’s softened cock caressed your other cheek as the owner pumped the mixed cum back inside your puffy pussy with his fingers. sunghoon pressed a soft, loving kiss to your lips. 

“you’re our secret girl now.”

you lay between them—as the three sworn, soulmates bestfriends who used to swear they had no secrets finally agreed on one secret: they would share their perfect little side chick—away from their girlfriends, and away from all the other guys out there.

[ggukiebar]

sex tape | j.jk

pairing: videographer jungkook x fem reader

genre: smut

word count: 12.7k

summary: looking for a decent job, you stumbled upon jungkook’s job posting on instagram, what could go wrong?

warnings: playfuldom!jungkook x fem reader, explicit sexual content, clit rubbing, pussy eating, edging, spitting, degradation, dirty talk, multiple positions, detailed smut, jk is very playful in a degrading way, oral sex, camera sex, pussy slapping, choking, praising, usage of slut, cum eating, marking, multiple orgasms, rough sex, crying, overstimulation, fingering, nipple spitting, penetrative sex, creampie.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂˚₊┈┈୨୧┈┈‧₊˚⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂

“How about being a barista again? There’s a job opening at Moonlit Cafe down the street,” Hari suggested while you sat hunched over your laptop, endlessly browsing through job postings.

You were still a student, graduating next year with bills clawing at your throat. When college started, you wanted independence so badly it ached beneath your skin. An apartment near the university. Your own keys. Your own groceries. Your own life.

Your parents had offered to cover everything without hesitation, gentle and loving as always, but guilt settled heavily in your chest whenever you thought about it. They were already paying your tuition fees. You wanted them to live comfortably too, without worrying about whether their daughter had enough money for rent or food. So you smiled and told them not to worry, drained your savings account for the apartment, and picked up multiple part-time jobs just to prove to yourself that you could survive on your own.

And for a while, you did.

The first two years of college went smoothly enough. You found decent jobs, saved enough money to live comfortably, and even bought yourself a flat-screen TV after months of careful budgeting. Your days blurred into exhausting routines—classes in the morning, shifts at the coffee shop at night, and weekends spent organizing shelves as a bookstore assistant.

You were tired all the time, but it was a satisfying kind of tired. The kind that made you feel accomplished. 

Independent. Adult.

Until the coffee shop let you go.

Budget cuts, they said apologetically, avoiding your eyes while handing you the notice. Part-time workers were the first to go.

You still had the bookstore job, but the pay barely stretched far enough to cover groceries, let alone rent, electricity, and university expenses. Asking your parents for help would’ve been easy—too easy—but stubbornness rooted itself deep inside you. There were thousands of job postings online. Surely one of them would take you.

Only they never called back.

Two months had passed, and your savings were bleeding out faster than you could stop them. Every day followed the same suffocating routine: school, assignments, cheap instant dinners, and hours of doom-scrolling through applications until your vision blurred from the brightness of your screen.

You groaned quietly, rubbing your tired eyes before glancing over at Hari, who sat cross-legged beside you on the couch with a milk tea in hand. She had shown up at your apartment earlier carrying takeout bags and your favorite boba, worry written plainly across her face after noticing how little you’d been eating lately.

“I already applied there,” you muttered with a pout, dragging your gaze back to the laptop. “But they want someone full-time.”

Hari sighed dramatically, setting her drink down on the coffee table. “You seriously need to rest. You’ve been staring at that thing for hours.”

Before you could protest, she grabbed your boba and pushed it into your hands. The cold plastic pressed against your palms pleasantly.

“Drink,” she ordered. “And let me do the scrolling before you spiral into another existential crisis.”

A laugh bubbled out of her as she pulled the laptop from your lap, and despite the anxiety twisting endlessly inside your chest, you felt your shoulders loosen just a little.

You pouted lightly, sipping your boba while Hari busied herself with your laptop. Your brows slowly furrowed when you noticed her opening tab after tab with alarming confidence.

“Why are you on Facebook?” you asked with a quiet chuckle, watching her click somewhere else before another page loaded. “And now Twitter? Instagram too?”

Hari rolled her eyes dramatically, her face illuminated by the screen’s pale glow. “Because the jobs on LinkedIn are painfully boring,” she scoffed. “There are tons of part-time job offers on social media. I swear I saw one yesterday.”

She narrowed her eyes at the laptop suspiciously, scrolling with the intensity of a detective solving a murder case.

A laugh escaped you as you leaned against her shoulder, chewing on the tapioca pearls you had missed more than you cared to admit. You’d been saving every spare dollar lately, cutting out small comforts one by one until even buying boba started to feel irresponsible.

“But you don’t even know if those are legit,” you pointed out, tilting your head at her. “The sites I applied to are safer from scams and stuff.”

“I know,” Hari replied instantly. “That’s why we’re looking for jobs with a pay-first policy if it’s online.” She clicked onto another account before adding casually, “And if it’s onsite, we’ll bring a gun in case things go wrong or something.”

You burst out laughing at that, nearly choking on your drink.

“Hari!”

“What?” she laughed too, grinning shamelessly. “I’m just being prepared.”

You shook your head at her usual nonsense, warmth blooming faintly in your chest despite the stress that had been suffocating you for weeks now. Hari always had a way of dragging you out of your own head, even if only for a little while.

The apartment suddenly felt less heavy with her around.

You were honestly relieved that semester break had finally arrived. One whole month without classes. No early morning lectures. No deadlines. No professors piling work onto your shoulders.

But instead of resting like a normal person, you had thrown yourself deeper into job hunting.

Hari hated that.

As your closest friend, she had spent the last week trying to convince you to take a break—to go shopping with the girls, take an out-of-town trip, do literally anything that didn’t involve staring at job applications until three in the morning.

You declined every single invitation.

Your friends understood your situation, but they also thought you were driving yourself insane. Which, honestly, you probably were.

That was exactly why Hari showed up tonight carrying your favorite food and overpriced boba tea, determined to drag you away from your spiral. She kept trying to tempt you into going on a girls’ trip with them, insisting that one weekend away wouldn’t kill you.

But every time you thought about relaxing, all you could picture were your bills piling quietly on the kitchen counter. So instead, you stayed curled up on the couch beside her, stubbornly searching for a job you desperately needed.

Hari was beginning to look almost as desperate as you. Maybe not for herself, but for you—for the way your shoulders had slowly grown heavier these past few months, for the exhaustion permanently shadowing your eyes. She wanted you to land a job already so you could finally breathe again without worrying about rent and unpaid bills swallowing you whole.

Which was exactly why she was now doom-scrolling through Twitter with frightening determination.

“I really don’t think you’re gonna find a job there,” you muttered skeptically, watching her open an alarming amount of random threads. “Most of those look like scams.”

“Wait, wait—look at this!”

Hari suddenly grabbed your arm and pulled you closer to the screen, quickly setting her milk tea down beside her like she was preparing for something serious.

Her eyes widened.

“Okay, this one actually looks promising.”

You leaned in slightly as she read aloud.

mnijungkook on ig posted: i’m looking for someone who can take insanely good videos and photos [of me]. i’ll somehow figure out the equipment myself..! please somehow reach out to me! lol, looking for someone to film for me, seriously. and if you’re good at editing too? let’s go on tour together

“There are so many likes and retweets,” Hari said immediately, already opening another tab to search for the original Instagram post. “This has to be legit.”

The second you recognized the username, you nearly choked on your drink.

Laughter burst out of you uncontrollably, your shoulders shaking as you clutched the cup tighter. Hari blinked at you in confusion while your eyes watered from laughing too hard.

“Hari,” you wheezed out, “That’s Jungkook.”

She stared blankly. “Huh? The boss?”

Another laugh escaped you.

Hari genuinely knew almost nothing about K-pop or Korean artists in general, and moments like this always reminded you just how different the two of you were.

Meanwhile, you had once been painfully obsessed.

You used to stay up until dawn watching livestreams, memorizing lyrics, collecting photocards you definitely couldn’t afford, and keeping up with every tiny update posted online. Back then, being a fan felt like a second full-time job.

But life eventually became busier.

School consumed your mornings, work consumed your nights, and somewhere in between surviving deadlines and paying bills, your fangirl phase quietly faded into the background. You still listened to their music almost daily, still smiled whenever one of their songs shuffled into your playlist, but you no longer kept up with every post or appearance the way you once did.

You guessed you had simply grown up.

Even so, seeing Jungkook casually asking for a videographer and editor on Instagram felt surreal enough to make you laugh all over again.

Not updated enough to know that Jungkook was apparently posting job offers on Instagram now. Or that he was even on tour.

“No,” you laughed, shaking your head as you finally calmed down a little. “That’s Jungkook. From BTS. They’re, like… insanely famous, Hari. This is probably some kind of joke or publicity thing.”

Hari’s brows knitted together in confusion before realization slowly dawned across her face. She clicked onto the Instagram profile, eyes widening at the blue verification check and the terrifying number of followers sitting beneath his username.

Nearly thirty million.

“Ohhh, BTS,” she murmured thoughtfully. “Wait—I think I’ve seen him before.” She squinted at one of the photos. “Wasn’t he in a Calvin Klein ad or something?”

You snorted. “Yeah. That’s him.”

Honestly, you expected her to laugh it off after realizing who posted it. Maybe call the idea ridiculous and move on to another job listing.

Instead, Hari clicked onto his Instagram story again with alarming seriousness.

“That means…” she trailed off.

“It’s probably a joke,” you interrupted immediately.

“This is good pay,” she said at the exact same time, eyes practically glittering now.

Before you could stop her, she pressed the reply button beneath the story.

Your lips parted slightly. You genuinely couldn’t tell if she was being serious or completely delusional right now. Probably both. But either way, you let her continue typing because there was absolutely no chance Jungkook himself would ever see it.

He probably received thousands of messages every minute. Millions, even.

The thought alone felt ridiculous.

“Whatever,” you muttered with a helpless chuckle, giving up entirely. “I’m heating up the rice bowl.”

Hari waved you off distractedly, already multitasking between your laptop and her phone like this had suddenly become her personal mission.

You shook your head fondly before standing from the couch, grabbing the takeout container she bought earlier. The apartment filled with the quiet hum of the microwave a moment later, warm light spilling across the tiny kitchen while Hari continued aggressively applying for a job that definitely, absolutely, one hundred percent was never going to happen.

-

You woke up to the shrill sound of your alarm, already preparing yourself for another long day of job hunting.

Hari went home late last night after spending an absurd amount of time DMing Jungkook and scrolling through social media for more “opportunities,” as she called them. Somewhere between laughing at ridiculous job listings and sharing takeout on your couch, the two of you ended up watching an old Disney movie to help you relax.

She still tried convincing you to go on the girls’ out-of-town trip. You still refused.

No matter how badly you wanted a break, your priorities were painfully clear right now. You needed stability first. A stable paycheck. A stable life. Then maybe you could afford to breathe.

After showering, you made yourself a decent cup of coffee and opened your laptop with a tired sigh, mentally preparing to send out another batch of applications that probably wouldn’t get answered.

Then your phone buzzed beside you. An Instagram notification lit up the screen.

You snorted softly to yourself. “This must be Jungkook,” you joked under your breath, absentmindedly opening the app.

What the fuck.

Your heart nearly stopped when you saw the message sitting in your inbox. The coffee suddenly tasted bitter in your mouth.

What the actual fuck?

“Hari!” you practically shrieked the second she answered your call. “Fuck! I don’t even edit videos! I only know basic stuff! I can’t even record properly without my hands shaking!”

You paced around your apartment while panicking into the phone, one hand gripping your hair as you reread the messages over and over again in disbelief.

Sometime after you went to the kitchen last night, Hari had apparently taken it upon herself to completely ruin your life.

She sent Jungkook your entire curriculum vitae.

Not only that—she also wrote and attached a full cover letter explaining why he should hire you.

The realization alone nearly made you pass out.

And when you discovered she had changed your insta profile picture into a formal-looking one while you weren’t paying attention?

You almost laughed and cried at the same time.

It genuinely looked like you had desperately prepared for this opportunity your entire life.

Your eyes skimmed through the cover letter again, horror slowly mixing with something embarrassingly emotional. Hari had written your entire backstory in there—about struggling financially, balancing school and work, trying to stay independent despite everything.

And then she started lying. Blatantly.

Apparently, according to Hari, you were “highly skilled in video editing” with “experience in cinematography.”

Cinematography my ass.

“Hehe… well,” Hari giggled shamelessly through the phone, completely unbothered by your spiraling. Noise echoed behind her, voices and music blending together enough for you to realize she was already with the girls on their trip. “You have to fake a few things to get accepted sometimes, right?”

“Ugh, I can’t do this!” you cried dramatically, pacing back and forth around your apartment while gripping your phone tightly. “I literally don’t know anything about filming! And what if he sues me for faking my skills? He’s famous and influential, Hari!”

Your eyes darted back toward your laptop sitting open on the table, Jungkook’s message glowing on the screen like a ticking time bomb ready to ruin your entire life.

Hari only laughed harder through the call.

“Girl, just try!” she said between giggles. “Watch a tutorial on YouTube or something. Besides…” her tone suddenly turned suspiciously persuasive, “It’s really good pay.”

“Hari!” you screamed again, horrified.

“God, I still can’t believe he actually replied to you,” she continued teasingly. “You must’ve impressed him with your amazing cinematography skills.”

You groaned so loudly you nearly scared yourself.

The worst part was that she wasn’t wrong about the pay.

Your eyes had nearly bulged out of your skull when you saw the amount attached to the offer. There were so many zeros that your brain genuinely short-circuited for a moment.

That was exactly why you couldn’t let it go.

Out of everyone who probably replied to his story, Jungkook somehow answered you. 

You. The probability alone felt absurd.

Thousands of people would kill for this opportunity right now, and meanwhile you were pacing around your apartment like you were preparing for a court trial instead of a job offer.

At first, the teenage fangirl buried deep inside you nearly exploded from excitement. The situation dragged you back to years ago—staying up until four in the morning streaming music videos, binge-watching funny compilations, memorizing choreography you could never actually dance, spending money you absolutely shouldn’t have spent on albums and photocards.

Back then, BTS had practically consumed your life. But time passed.

Somewhere between work shifts, college deadlines, and trying to survive adulthood, you slowly stopped keeping up with them. You still listened to the music, of course, but you no longer knew where they were, what they were doing, or how much they had changed over the years.

Curiosity eventually got the better of you. So you stalked Jungkook’s Instagram a little.

And oh.

Oh, he had changed.

A full sleeve of tattoos now wrapped around his right arm, dark ink decorating skin that used to be bare. Silver piercings glinted against his face in ways that somehow suited him unfairly well. His frame had broadened too, shoulders stronger, body lean and built with the kind of maturity that made him almost unrecognizable from the boy you remembered.

You were used to soft brown hair, oversized hoodies, black skinny jeans, clean arms, and those wide doe-like eyes that made the entire internet lose their minds.

Now he looked mature. Sharper. More dangerous somehow.

A man instead of a boy. And annoyingly enough, it looked really good on him.

“Fuck,” you muttered to yourself, finally realizing you’d been staring at a motorcycle video he posted for far too long.

You immediately locked your phone and pressed it dramatically against your forehead.

“I cannot fangirl right now or I’m seriously gonna lose it.”

Hari kept telling you to just go for it. “You literally have a whole month off from school,” she argued over the phone while you spiraled for the hundredth time. “This is basically the perfect sideline job.”

Sideline job. As if working for Jungkook of BTS was equivalent to tutoring kids after class.

Your stomach twisted anxiously as you stared at the message again. Every second that passed made you feel like the opportunity was slipping farther away. With the amount of people probably flooding his inbox right now, there was no guarantee he wouldn’t change his mind the moment someone actually qualified replied to him.

Your eyes skimmed over his message again, pulse quickening embarrassingly fast.

mnijungkook: hey, i saw your cv ㅎㅎ you really didn’t have to explain everything, but i’m glad you did. i can tell you’re being genuine about this. even without samples, the way you talked about cinematography/editing made me feel like you actually care about it and pay attention to details. sometimes that matters more to me than someone trying too hard to look “professional”

also i get the whole semester break thing. a month is still enough time to try something fun and see if we work well together

don’t stress too much about equipment either because i barely know what i’m doing there yet lol

for payment, don’t worry. if you end up coming with me, i’ll make sure you’re paid well — probably around $20-30k usd for the month depending on the schedule + travel and hotel covered. 

send me your contact info? we can talk more properly :))

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“I am not passionate about cinematography,” you nearly whimpered to yourself, dropping your face into your hands. “To hell with cinematography.”

The amount of lies in Hari’s cover letter was genuinely evil.

And now Jungkook thought you were some hidden creative genius with an artistic eye and a deep love for filmmaking when in reality you barely knew how to stabilize a phone camera.

You felt sick.

But then your eyes drifted back to the payment offer. Twenty to thirty thousand dollars. Travel covered. Hotels covered. Your bank account practically screamed at you to shut up and take the opportunity.

So with trembling fingers and the overwhelming sensation that you were actively ruining your own life, you began typing a reply. A reply that dug your grave even deeper.

You agreed with him. You agreed that you were a “good editor.”

You added your contact details while simultaneously praying that YouTube tutorials could somehow transform you into a professional videographer overnight.

Your fingers hovered above the send button before you forced yourself to press it.

You: thank you so much for even considering me :D i really do believe i’m a good editor, especially when it comes to making things feel natural and cinematic instead of overdone. 

i’d genuinely love to work for you if you’ll have me. i’m willing to learn fast, adjust to whatever style you want, and work hard during the whole month of my semester break.

my contact details are below, thank you so much!

The message was sent instantly.

You stared at the screen in silence afterward, horror slowly settling into every inch of your body.

Yeah. You were doomed.

-

“Wow, what the hell.” Your eyes widened the second you stepped into the hotel room Jungkook had booked for you.

The past few days had moved so fast it almost gave you whiplash. After you sent your contact details, Jungkook immediately messaged you about schedules, filming dates, locations, and travel arrangements as if hiring strangers from Instagram was a completely normal thing for him to do.

Everything had already been prepared before you could even panic properly.

Your plane ticket? Booked.

Hotel room? Paid for.

Transportation? Arranged.

Food allowance? Included.

All you had to do was pack your bags and somehow learn how to film and edit professionally before embarrassing yourself on an international scale.

Easy.

“I am so spoiled,” you muttered in disbelief, slowly stepping farther into the room. It was huge.

Bigger than huge, honestly. The hotel suite looked almost the size of your apartment back home, warm lighting spilling across polished floors and neatly arranged furniture that looked far too expensive for you to even breathe near.

Then your attention landed on the large table sitting near the windows. And your soul nearly left your body.

Equipment. So much fucking equipment.

Two massive black cameras rested neatly beside a smaller handheld one. There was an iPad, a laptop, tripods, microphones, chargers, lighting equipment, and cables so intimidating they looked like they belonged inside a spaceship instead of a filming setup.

Your luggage slipped from your fingers onto the floor with a dull thud as you walked toward the table cautiously, like the devices might explode if you touched them incorrectly.

Your eyes widened even more.

For the past several days, you have been desperately teaching yourself how to edit videos and film cinematic shots. Watching tutorials until sunrise. Memorizing transitions. Learning random camera terms you barely understood.

But you had been practicing with your phone. Your fucking phone.

Meanwhile these cameras looked expensive enough to pay your rent for the next ten years.

You carefully picked one up with both hands, terrified you’d somehow damage it through sheer incompetence alone.

Honestly, you were still shocked Jungkook never asked for samples of your work.

If he had, your career would’ve ended immediately.

The only thing you could’ve shown him was a mediocre CapCut edit with dramatic black-and-white filters slapped over it to make it look “cinematic.”

You groaned loudly, dropping your forehead against the edge of the table.

“Oh my God,” you whispered into the expensive wood. “I’m actually a fraud.”

You nearly lost balance holding the enormous camera in your hands, quickly tightening your grip before your entire future shattered onto the hotel floor in high definition. “Woah, this is heavy.”

Your eyes stayed locked on the equipment nervously as you adjusted the strap around your wrist, trying your best to look like someone who actually knew what they were doing. Because if Jungkook realized how painfully inexperienced you were, he might personally send you back to your country on the next available flight.

You wouldn’t even blame him. The past few nights had been brutal.

You barely slept at all, surviving almost entirely on instant noodles, caffeine, and pure fear while desperately teaching yourself editing techniques through YouTube tutorials. Your laptop had become an extension of your body at this point, constantly running sample footage you filmed around your apartment just so you could practice transitions, lighting adjustments, stabilization, and color grading.

You even studied Jungkook’s editing style specifically.

The pacing of his vlogs.

The soft cinematic filters.

The random zoom-ins.

The casual, natural feeling of the clips.

You analyzed everything like your life depended on it because technically, your rent kind of did. You were getting paid for this. A ridiculous amount, too.

And there was absolutely no way you could afford getting exposed now.

“Okay…” you muttered slowly while fiddling with the camera settings. “This is kinda… easy?”

You said it more like a question than a statement. Still, you forced yourself to keep going.

You searched up tutorials for the exact camera model, watched setup guides, practiced adjusting focus and lighting, and filmed random clips around the room like an aspiring film student fighting for survival.

At some point, you even started taking artistic shots of your coffee cup near the hotel window. For practice, obviously.

Tomorrow was your first official filming day.

According to the schedule Jungkook emailed you earlier, you’d be accompanying him to a golf activity before the concert. He wanted behind-the-scenes footage for the fans—small moments throughout the day, casual interactions, preparations before performing.

And apparently that was only the beginning. Over the next few days, you’d also be filming soundchecks, backstage moments, errands, workouts, rehearsals, and random snippets of his daily routine while on tour.

Basically, your entire existence now revolves around documenting Jungkook’s life aesthetically.

No pressure.

You used his latest vlog as your main reference while practicing, pausing every few seconds to study angles and editing choices carefully. Honestly, the style itself wasn’t impossible to recreate. It leaned more natural than overly polished, which helped calm your nerves slightly.

The problem was you. You weren’t skilled.

And the more you thought about his expectations, the more your stomach twisted itself into knots.

But backing out wasn’t an option anymore.

Not after the cover letter.

Not after the hotel.

Not after the plane ticket.

Definitely not after seeing the paycheck.

So instead of panicking yourself into quitting, you threw every ounce of energy into learning. Practicing. Training.

Like you were preparing for the Olympics instead of secretly faking your way into being Jungkook’s videographer.

You almost had a heart attack when your phone suddenly buzzed while you were testing the cameras.

The heavy device nearly slipped straight out of your hands as Jungkook’s name flashed across the screen.

Your pulse instantly skyrocketed.

Jungkook: hey, i left all the equipment on the table in your hotel room because i had to leave early for rehearsal. camera batteries are charging already, memory cards are inside the small black case, and i think i accidentally tangled all the wires together so… good luck with that honestly ㅎㅎ

there’s also a pass hanging on the chair for backstage access. don’t lose it or my manager’s gonna kill me lol

take your time checking everything first before we head out tomorrow. and if anything’s confusing just call me :))

You stared at the message for a moment longer than necessary, a smile unconsciously pulling at your lips.

His personality somehow translated perfectly even through text messages alone—easygoing, playful, ridiculously approachable despite being one of the biggest celebrities in the world.

It reminded you exactly why he used to be your ultimate bias years ago. There was something naturally charming about him. Something warm.

You quickly typed a reply before you could overthink it too much.

You: yes! i am checking them out hehe.. the batteries are currently charging, the cards are safe, and i’m currently fighting for my life trying to untangle these wires hahaha

good luck with rehearsal!! see you tomorrow!

The second you pressed send, immediate regret flooded your body. You stared at your message in horror.

Why did I sound like that?

Your cheeks burned violently as you reread the multiple “hehe’s” and unnecessary laughter typed into the conversation like a teenager texting her crush for the first time.

You physically covered your face with your hands.

“Oh my God,” you groaned into your palms. It wasn’t like you were trying to flirt. 

Or maybe… just a little bit.

Which honestly made the situation infinitely worse.

You used to be an incredibly dedicated ARMY once upon a time, and frankly, this entire situation was making your heart malfunction.

Working for Jungkook.

Texting Jungkook.

Meeting Jungkook.

It all felt unreal in the most dangerous way possible.

But you forced yourself to set the fangirl part aside before it completely consumed you. You needed to stay professional. Calm. Composed.

Otherwise, you were genuinely convinced you’d suffer a stroke before filming a single decent piece of content for him.

So instead of spiraling, you spent the entire night practicing.

Testing the cameras.

Learning the settings.

Adjusting lighting.

Checking the microphones repeatedly to make sure the audio sounded clean.

You edited random sample clips until your eyes burned from exhaustion, determined to familiarize yourself with the equipment enough to at least fake confidence tomorrow.

And somehow, by pure fear-driven determination alone, morning arrived faster than expected.

You woke up early to practice filming one last time before leaving, moving around the hotel room with nervous energy buzzing beneath your skin. You were oddly dedicated now—almost desperate—to prove that hiring you wasn’t a mistake.

After showering, you dressed carefully in clothes that screamed “professional videographer” despite the fact that you absolutely were not one.

A black long-sleeved polo, dark slacks and black shoes. You even tied your hair back neatly, staring at yourself in the mirror afterward like you were about to infiltrate the FBI instead of filming golf content.

A knock sounded at your hotel door.

“Good day, Ms. Y/N. Are you ready?”

You immediately straightened up before opening it, greeted by one of the bodyguards Jungkook assigned to escort you. His black shades reflected your visibly nervous expression back at you.

“Yes,” you answered quickly, trying to sound more confident than you felt.

Before leaving, you double-checked everything one last time—the batteries, memory cards, laptop, chargers—making sure nothing important was missing before following the bodyguard downstairs.

Outside, a sleek black car waited for you.

Your heartbeat quickened the moment you stepped inside.

You were scheduled to arrive an hour earlier than Jungkook so you could prepare the equipment and set everything up properly before filming started. Which meant you had an entire hour alone to panic in peace. 

The ride itself was painfully quiet. Only the soft hum of the air conditioner filled the car while city lights blurred past the tinted windows. Your hands rested stiffly over your bag, fingers nervously tapping against the expensive camera inside while your thoughts spiraled endlessly.

You swallowed hard. “I can do this,” you whispered quietly to yourself.

Though honestly, you sounded unconvinced. The moment the golf course entrance came into view, your stomach twisted so violently you almost gagged.

Oh God. This was actually happening.

The bodyguard escorted you inside shortly after, guiding you toward the smaller private golf area before leaving you alone to prepare your setup.

The silence that followed felt enormous.

You slowly placed the equipment down, inhaling deeply as the morning breeze brushed against your face. The golf course stretched beautifully beneath the early sunlight, calm and expensive and intimidating all at once.

And somewhere in the middle of unpacking tripods with trembling hands, one horrifying realization settled heavily into your chest.

Soon, Jungkook was going to arrive.

You looked around quietly, taking in the golf course while trying to calm the violent beating of your heart.

The place felt tucked away from the rest of the world somehow—small, peaceful, almost unreal in its stillness. Unlike the massive championship courses you usually saw online, this one felt more intimate. The holes were laid out closer together across smooth fairways trimmed so perfectly they looked like green velvet beneath the morning sun.

Small sand bunkers curved around the landscape, soft hills rolling gently beneath clean white flags planted in the distance.

No screaming crowds. No cameras flashing endlessly. Just the distant rustling of trees, the muted hum of golf carts somewhere farther away, and every now and then, the satisfying thunk of a golf club striking a ball cleanly through the air.

Though, it would’ve been relaxing if you weren’t moments away from throwing up from anxiety.

Your hands were already sweaty as you unpacked the equipment carefully, trying not to look like you had absolutely no clue what you were doing. You adjusted the camera repeatedly, searching for decent angles while silently thanking every higher power possible that there weren’t many people around.

Only a few locals occupied the course, minding their own business.

Good.

Less witnesses for your downfall.

You became so focused on testing camera movements and practicing steady shots that you completely failed to notice someone approaching behind you.

It wasn’t until you angled the camera upward during practice that your soul nearly exited your body.

Jungkook stood directly in frame, smiling right into the lens. Your heart stopped.

“Hi,” he greeted warmly, amusement flickering across his face as he glanced at the camera in your hands. “Looks like you’re having fun already.”

A black sports bag rested beside your equipment now, meaning he must’ve walked over while you were too busy pretending to be a professional filmmaker to notice.

Your eyes widened instantly. “Oh my God—”

You almost tripped over your own feet while hurriedly lowering the camera, panic rushing through your body all at once.

“I was just, um—checking the angles,” you explained nervously, mentally cursing yourself for sounding so awkward. “Nice to meet you! I’m Y/N.”

You quickly wiped your damp palms against your slacks before offering your hand to him politely.

Up close, he somehow looked even more unreal. Tall, broad-shouldered, with beautiful tattoos curling around his arm, silver piercings catching the sunlight softly whenever he smiled.

And unfortunately for your sanity, he was even more handsome in person. Ridiculously so. The kind of handsome that made it difficult to think properly when he looked at you for too long.

He chuckled softly before taking your hand in his. His grip was warm. 

Your brain short-circuited immediately.

Dressed in a fitted white polo shirt and black Nike shorts, a black cap resting low over his dark hair in a way that somehow made him look both ridiculously expensive and effortlessly casual at the same time.

The shirt did absolutely nothing to hide how built he was.

You could see the outline of his muscles beneath the fabric every time he moved, his shoulders broad enough to almost completely block the sunlight from where you stood.

“Hello,” he said warmly, shaking your hand once. “I’m Jungkook. Nice to meet you too.” Your cheeks instantly burned.

Seeing him through a screen was one thing. Seeing him in person felt entirely different.

He was so much more charismatic up close it almost irritated you. His bunny teeth peeked out whenever he smiled, eyes crinkling slightly at the corners while he spoke in that easy, friendly tone that made it impossible not to relax around him.

His entire aura felt bright somehow. Light. Dangerously charming.

You were absolutely screwed.

“I’ll leave the filming techniques up to you,” he continued casually, walking over toward the cooler nearby. “Feel free to film me however you want. No pressure.”

No pressure.

As if your nervous system wasn’t already collapsing in on itself.

He grabbed a cold bottle of water before offering another one toward you naturally, like this entire situation wasn’t surreal at all.

“Thank you,” you answered quickly, taking the bottle before immediately setting it aside again. “Uh—I’ll start filming now!”

You lifted the camera again with almost aggressive determination, eager to gather as much footage as possible. More clips meant more editing options later. More editing options meant a smaller chance of exposing yourself as a complete fraud.

Jungkook raised an amused brow at your sudden seriousness, his gaze briefly traveled over your outfit before returning to your face.

“You sure?” he asked lightly. “You don’t wanna eat first? I still have to stretch and stuff anyway.”

You shook your head immediately. “Nope.”

Your grip tightened around the camera slightly. “I wanna include behind-the-scenes snippets too, so…” you explained, trying your best to sound professional despite your racing heart. “This would actually be good footage.”

The determination in your voice made Jungkook smile again. And for some reason, that tiny look of approval made your stomach flip harder than it should have.

Jungkook chuckled softly. “Alright,” he said easily. “Just tell me if you need specific details or angles.”

Then he walked toward the side of the golf course to begin stretching.

You immediately followed after him with the camera clutched in your hands exactly the way you practiced all night, quickly pressing record before your nerves could stop you.

At first, things seemed to be going surprisingly well. You filmed everything.

His warm-ups were slow, deliberate—like he was already in control of everything around him.

The way he adjusted his gloves with quiet precision. The subtle flex of his arms as he set up his iron, muscles shifting beneath fabric like something effortless and practiced. The clean, confident swing of the club cutting through air before striking the ball with a sharp, satisfying sound. The soft crunch of grass beneath his shoes as he shifted his stance, grounding himself between each shot.

Then the stillness between it all.

Him sitting down beneath the shade, momentarily retreating from the sun. Him lifting a bottle of water to his lips, throat moving as he drank, the back of his hand brushing sweat away from his neck without much thought.

You practically documented his entire existence.

At one point, you even almost followed him toward the restroom before your brain caught up with your body at the last second.

You genuinely thought you were doing an amazing job.

From your perspective, more footage meant more options later during editing. You didn’t want to miss a single moment that could potentially look cinematic or useful.

But from Jungkook’s perspective… It was a little concerning.

At first, he simply watched quietly. He noticed the small mistakes immediately—the way you held the camera too stiffly sometimes, the awkward adjustments of the lens, the shaky transitions between movements.

Still, he tried convincing himself that maybe you were just getting comfortable with the equipment. Maybe you simply needed time.

But as the day continued, realization slowly settled in. Especially when he caught you aggressively zooming into completely unnecessary details before quickly rotating the lens too fast, creating footage that would probably look dizzying when played back.

Beginner.

The word settled into his thoughts almost instantly. You followed him everywhere with unwavering focus, constantly checking the framing, adjusting settings, filming from different angles even when your hands visibly started struggling beneath the camera’s weight.

By the time he returned from the restroom later that afternoon, he paused slightly at the sight of you near the equipment table.

You were rotating your shoulders carefully with a tired grimace, trying to ease the soreness from carrying the camera all day. Sweat clung lightly against your forehead beneath the heat of the sun, and your fingers looked faintly red from gripping the equipment for hours.

Still, the moment you noticed him approaching again, you instinctively reached for the camera.

“I think you have enough footage for today,” Jungkook said quietly before you could pick it up again.

His voice carried something firmer now. Your hands froze mid-motion.

You blinked at him in confusion. “Huh?” you asked, adjusting your grip on the camera. “But you’re not done yet.”

He was still in the middle of playing. There were still shots left, more footage you could take, more angles you could practice.

But instead of continuing, Jungkook simply placed the iron back onto the rack with a quiet sigh.

Something about his body language had changed. Subtle, but noticeable.

The playful brightness from earlier dimmed slightly, exhaustion settling into the slope of his shoulders as he rubbed the back of his neck.

And suddenly, anxiety crept beneath your skin.

Was he disappointed?

The answer was yes. Not angry—he wasn’t angry. But disappointed enough to realize the truth little by little throughout the day.

You don’t have any clue on what you were doing.

The way you handled the camera, the inconsistent framing, the random zoom-ins, the awkward adjustments every few seconds—it was painfully obvious that you were inexperienced.

And for a brief moment, ugly thoughts crossed his mind despite himself.

He trusted you.

Even without polished sample reels or impressive portfolios, he still chose to trust you. Your cover letter had been painfully sincere, especially the part about wanting independence. Wanting to do things on your own so you wouldn’t burden your parents. Wanting to make them proud. Wanting to stand on your own feet.

That part stayed with him longer than it should have.

A lot of people sent him impressive applications. High-quality edits. Cinematic videos. Professional portfolios crafted carefully to catch his attention. Thousands of direct messages flooded his account constantly, most of them blending together into meaningless noise after a while.

But yours stood out somehow.

Maybe it was the formal profile picture that made him laugh- looked strangely earnest among the endless stream of unserious messages. Maybe it was the desperation hidden between your carefully written sentences. Or maybe it was simply because your letter resonated with him more than he expected it to.

He understood that kind of desperation.

That overwhelming need to prove yourself to the world.

He had been independent from a young age too, forced to grow up far earlier than most people ever had to. He knew what it felt like to carry pressure so heavy it started shaping the person you became.

But still—

Maybe you lied just to get close to him.

Maybe you wanted the money.

Maybe you were just another person trying to take advantage of him somehow.

God knew he had already met far too many people like that.

But every time those thoughts surfaced, they disappeared almost instantly the second he looked at you again.

Because you were trying so hard. Too hard, honestly.

The determination written across your face all day felt painfully genuine, from the way you followed him around with aching arms to the sweat gathering near your forehead while you forced yourself to keep filming despite your obvious exhaustion.

You looked less like a manipulative opportunist and more like someone desperately trying not to fail.

Still, disappointment lingered quietly beneath his ribs. A dull ache he couldn’t quite shake away no matter how sincere you looked trying to impress him.

And instead of sending you home immediately, another thought slowly crept into his mind.

Something dangerous.

Something mean.

Something dirty enough to make his pulse slow.

He wanted to punish you for it.

Not enough to truly hurt you—never that—but enough to make you understand exactly what happened when you lied to him. Enough to leave you breathless beneath the weight of his attention, overwhelmed by the consequences of trying to fool him so boldly.

Jungkook had always been competitive for a reason.

He hated losing, hated being made a fool of.

And now that you had managed to slip past his guard so easily, there was no way he was letting you walk away untouched by it.

Oh, he was going to have so much fun with you.

“I wanna film something,” he finally said instead, voice quieter now. More serious.

Your breath caught slightly at the sudden change in tone. The warmth from earlier had faded into something calmer. Harder to read.

“Oh,” you answered softly, momentarily caught off guard. “Okay! What kind of content?”

You quickly stood up and began fixing the equipment into your bags, noticing him grab his car keys from beside his sports bag.

“You’ll see,” he said simply, before turning toward the exit.

Your own brows furrowed in confusion. The schedule he sent clearly stated golf content for today. Nothing else.

Still, you followed him quietly anyway. When he told you to ride with him instead of the escort vehicle, your confusion deepened even more, though you didn’t question it aloud. Maybe he wanted driving footage or some cinematic clips for the vlog.

That had to be it.

Your heart thumped nervously as you climbed into his car beside him, immediately noticing how sleek and absurdly expensive the interior looked. The soft scent of fresh mint lingered in the air, clean and comforting somehow.

The realization that you were sitting inside Jungkook’s car with Jungkook himself nearly made your soul leave your body.

Your hands instinctively reached toward the camera bag.

“No,” Jungkook chuckled softly the moment he noticed. “You’re not gonna film here, pretty girl.”

Pretty girl.

Your entire brain stopped functioning. Heat rushed violently into your cheeks as you slowly pulled your hands away from the bag.

“Oh,” you answered weakly. “Okay…”

You bit your lip afterward, turning slightly toward the window to hide your expression while curiosity twisted tighter inside your chest.

Where exactly was he taking you?

The moment you saw the familiar hotel building come into view through the windshield, confusion settled deeper into your chest.

You followed Jungkook quietly through the lobby, nerves buzzing beneath your skin with every step.

He had gone strangely quiet after golf. Still calm, still composed—but not as bright as before. The easy smiles disappeared, replaced by something heavier lingering beneath his expression, and it made your stomach tighten painfully.

“Uhm…” you started carefully while standing beside him inside the elevator. “Are you gonna get a few more cameras or something?”

The elevator doors slid shut. Jungkook glanced at you briefly, his doe eyes half-lidded in a way that made your throat suddenly feel dry.

“Take a guess.”

Your heartbeat stumbled. Something about his tone made nervousness crawl violently through your body. And when the elevator finally opened onto your floor, Jungkook grabbed your wrist without warning.

You gasped softly, he dragged you out impatiently, long strides carrying the two of you quickly down the hallway toward your hotel room. His grip wasn’t painful, but firm enough to make your pulse race uncontrollably beneath your skin.

By the time you stopped in front of your door, your mind was already spiraling. Jungkook looked down at you expectantly, his pupils dilated, still holding your wrist while waiting for you to unlock the room.

Did he figure it out? The thought struck so hard your chest physically tightened.

Your fingers trembled slightly while pulling out the keycard. Guilt flooded your system all at once, thick and suffocating.

You were scared.

Scared he’d yell at you. Scared he’d confiscate the equipment. Scared he’d have you booked on the next flight home before you even had a chance to explain yourself.

Completely unaware of the way his dark, playful mind worked. Completely unaware of how badly he wanted to punish you.

“Jungkook, I—”

But the words died immediately when he walked past you instead.

He took the camera bag from your hands and moved straight toward the table, pulling out the camera you used earlier before checking the rest of the equipment you left behind.

You blinked in confusion. Huh?

Jungkook grabbed another camera calmly before setting up one of the tripods with practiced ease. The way his fingers moved across the equipment was fast and precise, adjusting settings effortlessly while rotating the camera into position like second nature. His shoulders flexed beneath the white polo each time he lifted the tripod, veins bulging faintly along his tattooed forearms while he fixed the lighting behind it.

Your lips parted slightly without meaning to. He looked ridiculously good doing something as simple as setting up cameras.

“W-What are you doing?” you stammered, confused.

Jungkook glanced back at you over his shoulder while tightening something near the tripod head.

“Sit on the bed for me.”

Your stomach flipped violently. “H-Huh? I mean okay,” you answered quietly, swallowing hard before slowly moving toward the bed.

You sat carefully near the edge while watching him continue adjusting the setup.

With one hand alone, Jungkook lifted the heavy tripod effortlessly and positioned it directly in front of the bed, angling the camera downward toward where you sat.

The veins along his arms flexed again beneath the strain.

Your throat went completely dry. The room suddenly felt much smaller than before.

Hotter too.

You watched silently as he grabbed another tripod, this time placing it to the right side of the bed. Both cameras pointed directly at you now. And for some reason, the sight made your heartbeat pound harder than ever before.

He looked through the camera lens carefully, head tilting slightly as he adjusted the angle. “Lay down on the bed.”

Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. “What—”

“Lay down.” he commanded sharply.

This time, his tone came out firmer. Serious. Leaving absolutely no room for argument.

And somehow, the way he looked at you through the camera lens sent a sharp shiver crawling down your spine.

To your own horror, excitement slowly started mixing with the fear curling inside your stomach.

You almost wanted to slap yourself for it.

You swallowed hard before slowly slipping your shoes off, awkwardly climbing farther onto the bed until your back rested against the headboard.

Every movement suddenly felt painfully self-aware beneath the cameras pointed directly at you.

Jungkook poked the inside of his cheek thoughtfully while studying the frame through the viewfinder, eventually stepping forward again to move the tripod closer.

Before you could shift yourself lower against the mattress, he suddenly walked toward you instead. Your breath hitched the second he crouched down in front of you holding the clip-on microphone.

He leaned in close enough for you to catch the faint scent of mint lingering on him.

“You forgot these earlier,” he said lightly, though there was something mocking beneath the softness of his voice now.

“Oh,” you answered weakly. “Uhm… I was in a rush, so…” Your cheeks burned instantly from embarrassment. 

Of course you forgot the microphones!

Jungkook raised a brow slowly. “You were in a rush?” he repeated with a quiet chuckle before standing back up again.

Then he walked toward the table and grabbed the smaller digital camcorder, casually aiming it toward you.

The amount of cameras pointed at you now made your stomach twist uncomfortably. Instinctively, you tried sitting up straighter, but Jungkook stopped you immediately.

“Stay still,” he said calmly. “I wanna test the cameras.”

“Test the cameras?”

“I think you need a little demo, baby.” Your heartbeat stopped. “You weren’t doing a very good job earlier.” The teasing mockery in his tone hit you like a truck.

And suddenly everything crashed down at once. Your eyes widened in horror.

Fuck. 

He knew.

Of course he knew!

Heat rushed violently into your face and neck, humiliation crawling across your entire body so intensely it almost hurt. Your chest tightened painfully while tears burned behind your eyes before you could stop them.

You looked away instinctively, shame flooding every inch of you.

God, this was so embarrassing.

“J-Jungkook, please,” you stammered quickly, panic slipping into your voice. “I’m not trying to scam you or anything, it’s just that—”

He stepped closer until his knees brushed against the edge of the bed.

And somehow, that almost satisfied look on his face made your stomach twist even more.

You looked so shy. So cornered. Like a poor little thing unknowingly walking straight into his hands.

His gaze lingered on you with dangerous amusement, as though you had already become his favorite test subject for the cameras.

Dark lazy eyes dragged slowly across your body, taking their time, shamelessly roaming over every inch of you while his imagination sparked vividly to life. You could almost see the thoughts forming behind his eyes—every filthy thing he wanted to do to you, every position he wanted to bend you into, every sound he wanted to force out of your mouth while the cameras kept recording.

And somehow, what excited him even more was the thought of filming it all. Editing it afterward. Watching you fall apart for him frame by frame.

“Shh,” he murmured softly. “It’s okay.”

Your watery eyes lifted toward him immediately. “I’ll teach you how to film, hmm?” he said mockingly.

“W-What?” Your lips parted in disbelief.

Jungkook tilted his head slightly, dark eyes fixed on yours with an unreadable expression.

“Gonna show you the right angles, baby,” he cooed. “What do you think?” He smiled without humor.

The contrast made you shiver. “B-But…”

“Will you cooperate with me?” he asked, voice smooth and almost condescending, like he was speaking to a child. His fingers tapped lightly against one of the cameras beside him. “We wouldn’t want these cameras to go to waste, would we?”

Your throat tightened. Part of you wanted to disappear completely. To book the next flight home, apologize profusely, and somehow repay every expense he wasted on you.

But another part of you—the younger version buried deep inside your chest, the girl who once stayed up all night watching his videos and smiling at her screen—couldn’t let go of this moment.

Because despite everything, Jungkook still hadn’t thrown you out.

He wasn’t yelling at you.

He was giving you another chance.

And maybe that meant you still had an opportunity to prove yourself.

Thousands of people probably wanted your position right now. Yet somehow, he was still here. Patient enough to teach you himself.

Completely unaware of how dangerous that patience actually was.

Because the lessons Jungkook had in mind were nothing like the ones you were expecting.

So slowly, you nodded.

Hope flickered weakly beneath your embarrassment while your thoughts tangled themselves around one desperate need: to impress him somehow.

“Okay,” you whispered nervously. “I—I learn fast when someone’s teaching me and…”

Jungkook raised a thick brow at you. “Pretty girl’s a fast learner, huh?”

Your cheeks immediately reddened again. You nodded shyly despite the obvious teasing in his tone, unconsciously pouting a little from embarrassment.

His eyes went down to your lips, eyes darkening. “Can you count the cameras for me?” he asked a bit impatiently.

You glanced around quickly toward the setup.

The two cameras mounted on tripods.

The camcorder in his hand.

“There’s three,” you answered softly.

Jungkook chuckled under his breath. “Good job, baby.” he slowly lifted the camcorder higher, zooming the lens closer toward your face.

“Now look here.”

You shyly looked into the camera lens, your cheeks dusted with pink beneath the warm lights.

The way Jungkook stared at you through the camcorder made you shrink into yourself slightly, suddenly aware of every little movement you made on the bed.

He tilted his head slowly. “So pretty.”

Your breath caught in your throat. Heat crawled up your neck as you shifted uncomfortably against the mattress, fingers curling slightly into the sheets. The entire situation suddenly felt strangely intimate, and for a second your thoughts drifted somewhere dangerous before you quickly forced yourself to focus again.

This is just a demo.

He’s teaching you.

Nothing else.

“Open the first few buttons of your top,” he said, voice quieter now as he continued looking at you through the camcorder.

Your eyes widened instantly.

Did I hear that right?

“W-What?” you nearly choked out, pulse quickening embarrassingly fast despite how badly this entire situation could end for you.

And somehow, against all logic, excitement started curling through your stomach.

“Need you to cooperate, baby,” he answered smoothly. “Come on, do a nice show for me.”

The teasing edge in his tone made your stomach twist nervously.

You hesitated for a moment before slowly bringing your shaky fingers toward your top, feeling painfully aware of the cameras pointed at you from different angles.

Jungkook watched carefully through the lens, adjusting the focus ring slightly while observing the framing.

“That’s it.” he encouraged.

You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment, fingers trembling as you slowly undid the first few buttons of your blouse. Heat crawled up the back of your neck, burning the tips of your ears as the reality of the situation settled deeper beneath your skin.

He’s filming a sex tape.

You were so fucking stupid because instead of panicking properly, instead of running or completely losing your mind, you were following him blindly. Worse—you were getting excited.

Fuck, you should’ve been crashing out right now.

But the way he looked at you— God.

It felt like he wanted to devour you whole. His dark eyes dragged over every inch of exposed skin with quiet hunger, liquid heat pulsed embarrassingly between the gap of your thighs before you could stop it.

“Open your eyes baby, stare at the camera.” he said firmly, an obvious edge underneath it.

You slowly opened your eyes. Your cheeks were already burning, breath uneven as you finished unbuttoning the last one, revealing just enough of your chest to make your thoughts scatter. The camera lens felt heavier now, more invasive, like it was watching you breathe, waiting for you to make the wrong move.

“Hmm…touch your breasts baby, give it a nice squeeze for me.” he whispered, still holding the camcorder, directing it with the ease of someone who knew exactly what every angle captured.

Completely under his control, you obeyed, your hands moving hesitantly at first before you held yourself through the fabric, giving a light squeeze that made your breath hitch. You bit down on your lower lip, trying to stay steady, trying to keep your eyes locked on the camera like he told you, even as your vision softened at the edges and your body betrayed your focus.

The room felt smaller now. Heavier.

You were getting so wet.

Jungkook let out a low groan, eyes still fixed through the lens.

“Remove your top, wanna see your pretty nipples.”

Your ears burned red at the filthy undertone. With shaky hands, you slowly pulled your top off, revealing the white lace bra beneath. The delicate fabric hugged the soft swell of your breasts perfectly, and the moment Jungkook’s eyes settled on them through the camera lens, another wave of heat rushed through your body.

You slowly tugged at the first strap, then the second, freeing your breasts as your nipples hardened, flushed and sensitive against the cool air.

“That’s it,” he instructed, voice steady. “Roll those pretty nipples for me.”

You obeyed, pinching them gently before rolling them between your fingers. Your lips parted at the rush of sensation that followed, breath catching as your panties got more stickier with your arousal.

When your gaze dropped, you noticed the strain in his black shorts—the obvious tent pressing against the fabric. A shiver ran down your spine at the realization that despite his composed, professional expression as he filmed you, he wasn’t unaffected.

He groaned, zooming in on how you were rolling and pinching your nipples, his cock throbbing at the sight, precum leaking from its mushroom tip.

“Bring your hand to your mouth,” he ordered, directing the camera at your face. “Now, spit on it.”

You whimpered. Like a good girl, you gathered your saliva and spat thickly onto your palms, showing it to him after.

He bit his lower lip, his cock getting so hard from your submissiveness. “Good girl, now rub it on your nipples—make it nice and wet for me,” he rasped.

You rubbed the spit on your breast, the warm, sticky fluid on your nipples feeling so raw and dirty, spreading the saliva messily as he watched you through the lens with hooded eyes.

You were getting so horny, the dirty act turning you on so much that you could feel your panties sticking to your core.

“Look at you,” he chuckled, slowly reaching toward you. “I bet you’re so wet right now.”

You looked so pretty—your neatly done hair now slightly disheveled, cheeks flushed from all the things he’d been instructing you to do, pebbled nipples glistening under the camera lights. Your legs trembled slightly, aching to be touched, your lips parting every now and then as your breath turned uneven, eyes hazy and unfocused.

The sight made Jungkook’s cock throb painfully hard.

His pretty little doll.

He handed you the camcorder. “Hold this, baby. Show them who’s making you this wet.”

With shaky hands and glossy eyes, you took the camera and tried to point it toward him, your eyes rolling back when he removed his white polo shirt and black shorts, leaving him in his gray Calvin Klein boxers.

You whimpered as you could see the outline of his huge cock, precum leaking at the tip, wetting the center of the cloth.

“Your angle is wrong,” he raised a brow, noticing how your shaky hands were failing a bit at holding the camera properly.

You panicked. “I’m sorry,” you rushed out, trying to straighten it, ignoring the painful pulses between your legs—your body begging to be touched.

He chuckled, leaning over you. “It’s okay, baby. That’s why we have another camera.”

His hands came up to your cheeks, gently holding and angling your face to the right so you could look toward the second camera set up by the side of the bed. “I bet you’d look so good getting fucked from that angle,” he whispered.

His grip on your cheeks tightened slightly, squishing them just enough as the camera captured everything—the way your eyes fluttered, the way your nipples hardened under his gaze, the way your legs shifted restlessly, searching for any kind of friction.

You gasped loudly when his free hand went down to cup your pussy through your pants, your eyes rolling back as he felt the wetness through the fabric.

“Fuck, let me see how wet you are, yeah?”

With one hand, he unzipped your pants, pulling them down in one forceful motion while his other hand remained on your cheeks, keeping your gaze fixed on the camera. Your other hand trembled as it tried to capture what he was doing below.

“Capture this, baby,” he breathed, guiding your hand holding the camcorder to angle it downward, towards your wet pussy.

You almost dropped the camera when he suddenly slapped your cunt, your panties nearly see-through from how wet they were with your arousal.

“Jungkook~” you whimpered.

He sat up and held both of your legs, spreading them wider until your ankles were almost on either side of the bed.

“You’re so wet, I can see your cute little slit through your panties baby.” He chuckled, leaning down and hollowing his cheeks to spit right above your clothed clit, making it even messier.

You whimpered, your toes curling at the sensation, gripping the camcorder tightly as you felt him crouch down, spreading his spit over your panties. His warm tongue then licked along your pussy through the fabric, slotting between your folds, the wet material pressing inside your slit.

“Make sure the camera can see how good I’m gonna eat this pussy.” He whispered while looking at you, flipping your panties to the side and groaning when he saw how wet and pink you were, his jaw slackening as he took almost your whole pussy into his warm mouth.

It was so wet and messy, and you could see him through the mini screen of the camcorder, maintaining direct eye contact with the lens while eating you out, making sure to pull back your hood so the camera could capture how his lips would wrapped around your swollen clit.

He suctioned around it, spreading more spit, sucking as if his life depended on it, then moved down to gather your juices before sliding his hot tongue inside you, coaxing more from you. His adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, showing you how he drank every bit of your wetness.

“That feels so g-good.” You moaned, trying to zoom in on how his tongue played with your folds.

He hummed, the vibrations making you twitch in pleasure.

“Yeah? This feels good?” he asked, sucking harshly on your clit as your eyes rolled back, your release building up fast. Your pussy throbbed, your clit growing more sensitive with every passing second.

“I’m gonna-’’

You moaned loudly when he buried his face deeper, never letting go of your throbbing clit, his head moving from side to side as he groaned low against you. When he finally let go of your clit, you gasped as he gathered a thick amount of saliva, hollowing his cheeks to spit harshly down on you, then leaning back in with his tongue out to spread it in slow, kitten-like licks.

When he looked up again at the lens, you exploded, your orgasm so intense you could feel your pussy pulsating so hard you almost saw stars.

‘’Stop, please!” You whined, overstimulated as he kept licking your cunt, your legs shaking from the oversensitivity.

His chin and nose were soaked, his lips slightly red and pouty, his dark locks messy, and his pupils dilated. You gasped when he suddenly removed his boxers; his cock was hard and pretty, curving slightly upward, decorated with thick veins and a red, swollen mushroom tip.

Jungkook took the camera and angled it towards you, wide glossy eyes looking up at him weakly.

“Say… thank you for making me cum, Jungkook.” He breathed, his other hand gripping his cock as he spread the precum along his shaft.

“Thank you for m-making me cum, Jungkook.” You croaked, your legs still trembling from your intense orgasm.

He smiled proudly. “My smart girl, very good at following instructions,” he praised, placing the camcorder down beside you and angling it so it could capture how his mouth leaned down to suck your nipples, while his free hand squeezed and rolled the other bud between his fingers.

“Jungkook—” you moaned as his tongue twirled and sucked around your breast, just like he had done to your clit—messy and pouty with saliva.

He bit your nipple playfully, earning a soft whimper from you, his tattooed hand reaching down to cup your swollen pussy.

You gasped when he inserted his middle finger, your walls tightening around the intrusion.

“You’re so tight and warm.” He murmured against your nipple, letting it go with a soft pop before moving to suck on the other one.

You whimpered, your pussy growing wetter from the way he sucked and played with your nipples, the pad of his middle finger brushing against your spongy spot, making you writhe in pleasure.

“Please- too much.” You moaned, his middle finger going so deep that his knuckles were hitting your ass, his finger curling in a “come here” motion inside you, rubbing your spot deliciously as your tight hole produced more juices, the feeling of your previous release being pushed inside you making you tremble.

He let go of your nipple and leaned in immediately, pouty lips capturing yours in a hungry kiss. His tongue slipped into your mouth, messy and demanding, tangling with yours as the kiss deepened and turned overwhelming.

At the same time, his other hand moved up to your throat, fingers wrapping gently around the column of your neck, giving it a light squeeze as he held you in place.

Your lips parted in response, and he took the opportunity to push his tongue deeper, exploring every corner of your mouth, sucking on your tongue and swallowing your whines and protests.

His hard cock pressed against your inner thigh, impossibly close to your wet pussy, grinding lightly as he shifted. You could feel his precum, warm and slick, and the firm pressure of his mushroom tip against your skin made you bite back a shaky breath, a mix of pleasure and nerves twisting together inside you.

Your walls tightened around his finger, making it almost impossible for him to move it from how tightly your pussy gripped him.

He groaned, biting your lip and nudging your thighs wider with his legs, inserting another finger and making you gasp from the mix of pain and pleasure. He swallowed your moans, almost bruising your tongue from the way he was kissing you, the air in your lungs growing limited every time he squeezed your throat.

“Shh, behave for the camera.” he whispered, his thumb caressing your throat while his middle and ring fingers rubbed your spongy spot in slow circles.

Tears fell from your eyes, the overstimulation and edging making you cry from pain. You had already come, but you wanted to cum again so badly, your pussy aching and throbbing for another release, his fingers brushing your g-spot in a teasing, ticklish way, making you shake and move your legs in protest.

“Let me cum again, please, please…” you pleaded, fat tears rolling down your flushed cheeks.

He gripped your throat a little tighter, making you gasp for air. “Aww, you wanna come again?” he cooed.

You nodded desperately, moving your hips to meet his fingers. “Yes, please.”

He chuckled at you. “So polite.” he said, lazily grabbing the camcorder from the side and angling it down towards your spent pussy. “Spread wide, baby.”

You immediately held your ankles, making yourself completely open for him, desperate for release, your body aching from denied pleasure.

He angled the camera at your twitching hole, filming how your wetness dripped down the sheets. He held his hard cock, spitting down onto his shaft and pumping it a few times before angling himself towards your wet cunt.

You gasped loudly when his blunt head entered your hole, biting your lip harshly at the foreign intrusion, the stretch nearly overwhelming you from his swollen mushroom tip alone.

“So big…” you whimpered, holding your ankles tightly as a new wave of tears gathered in your eyes.

Your breath hitched, trembling as you tried to adjust, the sensation stealing every coherent thought from your mind.

Jungkook cursed under his breath, zooming in on your wet cunt to capture how your walls were sucking him in.

“Your pussy looks so good on camera baby, so tight and pretty.” He grunted, pushing halfway in and earning a loud moan from you.

His bangs stuck to his forehead, his lip ring catching the light as he bit down on his lower lip. His broad chest rose and fell heavily, veins tracing along his neck, flushed and taut with effort. Even like this, he held the camera with unnerving steadiness, like nothing about the moment could shake his focus.

So steady and professional at producing sex tapes.

When he bottomed out, you almost fainted, the stretch overwhelming—painful yet intoxicating—as he pressed fully against you. His balls settled deep, his pelvis flush with yours, the soft trim of hair brushing your clit each time he rolled his hips.

He groaned harshly. You could feel his cock throbbing inside you, his jaw clenching as your walls enveloped him.

“Relax, baby—you’re gripping me,” he groaned weakly, this time angling the camera toward your face.

You whimpered, trying to cover your face with your small hands, but he caught both of your wrists and pinned them above your head. His sudden hard thrusts made your body bounce slightly with every movement, leaving you breathless.

“Don’t be shy, baby—show your pretty face to the camera,” he drawled lazily, angling it towards your flushed expression.

“Show them how good I’m making you feel.” He grunted, rolling his hips against you. The curve of his cock hitting your g-spot perfectly, buried so deep that he barely pulled out at all—only circling his hips, grinding in a way that made it feel like he wanted to push even further. The sensation drew a sharp arch through your back.

His gaze stayed locked on you through the screen, lips parted, breath uneven—like he was caught between control and losing it. The way your pussy gripped him made his cock throb, his expression darkening with something possessive and unspoken. 

“Look at you, whimpering like a pretty little slut.” he said in a condescending tone.

“I-I’m not a slut.” You pouted, your walls tightening around him at his degrading tone.

He raised a brow. “Oh really? You think a lot of people won’t agree once I upload this?”

Your eyes widened, panic flashing across your flushed face as his thrusts turned harsher and sloppier, the rhythm giving away how close he was getting. You were almost impressed that he was still managing to keep the camera steady.

“N-No, you are not gonna do that,” you panicked, your eyes wide and glossy, your small hands trying to push the camera away.

He grunted, his cock throbbing as he felt your pussy tighten around him. He shifted just enough to avoid the camera when you reached for it, tightening his grip around both your wrists so you couldn’t move.

“You like that, huh? Come on, pretty—let me film you properly.” He snapped his hips harder, angling the lens toward you while your bodies met in sharp, rhythmic collisions.

The friction made your breath hitch, your clit brushing against his pubic hair in a way that sent jolts of pleasure racing through your body. His grip tightened around the camcorder, breathing uneven as he watched you come apart through the screen, completely drunk on the sounds you were making for him.

“Moan louder.” he commanded.

You moaned loudly, your chest rising and falling as his harsh movements made your body react against him. His eyes rolled back slightly from the way you kept pulsating around him, every drag sending him deeper into overstimulation.

He bit his lip. “My dirty girl, getting fucked on film.” he rasped.

Then, abruptly, he let go of the camcorder and set it aside.

A soft sound escaped him as he pulled out, the sudden emptiness making you whimper. Before you could fully register it, he was already moving you—pulling your body forward and repositioning you in front of him.

He settled behind you, guiding you into place so that you were now facing the cameras on the tripod, your body fully on display while his broad chest and hard cock pressed close from behind.

“You see those two cameras baby?’’ he whispered behind your ear, spreading your legs wide.

“Yes.” you replied weakly.

You gasped loudly when he entered you from behind, your body settling against his lap as his thighs kept your legs spread wide, positioning you so the camera could clearly capture the way he entered you.

“Smile for them baby, need some footage from this angle.’’ He cooed softly, thrusting his hips upward while his other arm circled around your waist to keep you steady.

You moaned, trembling so badly when you saw how the lights caught both of your bodies—the glittering sheen of sweat, your smudged makeup, and his tattooed colored arms all captured in high definition under the harsh glow.

"My pretty pretty girl, should I post this? show them how I fuck?" he murmured against your skin before pressing a kiss to your cheek, his tongue brushing lightly over the dampness left behind by your earlier tears.

The tenderness of it contrasted so badly with the hunger in his voice that it made your breath hitch. His hand cradled your face carefully, thumb stroking beneath your eye as though he was soothing you and provoking you at the same time, and the way he looked at you through half-lidded eyes made heat rush straight to your chest.

He suddenly grabbed the clip-on mic from your necklace, your eyes widening as you realized he was angling it downward—towards where his cock met your pussy.

“Need to test the mic baby, let the viewers hear how much of a nasty slut you are.”

The mic was so close that every sound was picked up clearly—the wet, obscene squelches echoing as he pushed and pulled inside you, the way he dragged against your tight heat sounding even more intense through the recording. The noise alone felt almost sinful in how loud and wet it was.

“I bet they can hear how tight your pussy is.” he grunted, putting the mic closer to your cunt.

He could feel how slick everything had become, wetting his balls each time he pushed, your arousal makes each movement messier.

“Gonna cum, oh gosh.” You moaned, your body growing hypersensitive as your clit throbbed with the pressure of an approaching orgasm.

He grabbed both of your cheeks when he noticed your head starting to fall back from pleasure, forcing you to look straight at the camera in front of you. “Be a good girl and look at the lens, don’t want my content to be bad quality.’’

His other hand clipped the mic back onto your necklace before sliding down again, rubbing slow circles over your clit. You moaned loudly, your back arching as your orgasm edged closer and closer.

“Cum for me baby, show them your cute little juices.” 

Your legs were shaking when you finally reached your orgasm, your clit throbbing so intensely, your limbs giving out as your body hit its peak. Your swollen bud pulsed uncontrollably in fast, erratic heart beats, your walls clenching around his cock as he was still thrusting inside you.

Your eyes rolled back into your head when you felt your orgasm stretch further from his deep thrusts, his mushroom tip brushing against your g-spot and dragging you straight into another wave. You came again, consecutively, your body twitching as overstimulation took over, your legs instinctively trying to close.

"J-Jungkook I can't anymore."

Jungkook forced your legs to stay open, his index and middle fingers spreading your pussy lips apart for the camera, showing how your clit pulsed beneath the warm lights while his cock remained buried deep inside you.

''Mhm.. spit on your clit baby, make it extra wet before I use you." he whispered.

You squirmed, obediently leaning down as his fingers kept you spread open. With trembling breaths, you gathered saliva on your tongue before letting it drip down onto your clit, both cameras capturing the filthy sight in sharp detail.

A low curse slipped past Jungkook’s lips at the view, his grip tightening instinctively as he watched you, completely consumed by the way you willingly put yourself on display for him.

He quickly flipped your body down to chase his own pleasure, entering you again and sloppily thrusting into your wet used walls, pushing your cum deeper and deeper inside you. You were so weak, your heart still racing as you weakly reached for the camcorder to film him.

When he saw what you were doing, he groaned harshly, his grip on your hips tightening so hard it bordered on bruising as he held you down.

“My smart girl, you learned well huh?” He praised you, thrusting fast and hard, the camcorder shaking in your grip as you tried to capture his deep strokes.

"Your little brain functioning well with my cock deep inside you.'' he muttered darkly, thumb brushing against your cheek as he watched your expression unravel for him.

“A-Am I doing a good job?” you asked softly, biting your lip as you adjusted the camera to capture his face this time.

He let out a low growl in response, movements losing their rhythm slightly as pleasure started pulling him apart at the edges. “Uh-huh,” he breathed heavily. “You can be my personal little porn star. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

A loud moan escaped you at the thought, heat rushing instantly to your cheeks as you tightened your grip on the camcorder, suddenly far too eager to keep filming him.

“Gonna fuck you anytime I want,” he breathed, dilated eyes locked on you through the lens. “Film it however I like.”

With a harsh final thrust, he came inside you, grunting as he pushed through the last of it, staying buried as he finished, his body still tense with the release. You could feel his cock pulsing inside you, warm cum spilling and pooling, some of it leaking out and staining the sheets beneath you while he stayed balls deep.

The camcorder slipped from your grip, forgotten as you breathed heavily beneath him. You were completely spent, still sensitive as his hips gave a few slow, instinctive movements, as if trying to push his cum deeper despite his softening cock.

“Jungkook?” you asked weakly, fingers absentmindedly playing with the soft ruffles of his hair.

“Hmm?” he hummed against your neck, lips pressing lazy kisses there, his cock still buried deep inside you. The red recording lights on the cameras kept blinking steadily in the background.

“A-Are you really gonna post this?” you bit your lip, glancing back at the two large cameras perched on the tripod.

Jungkook let out a quiet chuckle, teeth grazing your skin in a teasing bite. “Mhm. I still need to edit it though.”

“Jungkook!” you squealed, panicking again.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes dark and sharp with need, still carrying that lingering haze of desire. “Do you even know how to edit?” he asked, eyes squinting in playful doubt.

Your eyes widened. “I can edit,” you insisted quickly. “I learned a few things… I kinda know the basics.” Your voice softened at the end, almost uncertain.

A small smile tugged at his lips as he slowly pulled out, earning a shaky breath from you before he reached up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear with surprising gentleness.

“Hmm. Okay…” he murmured softly, lifting the camcorder slightly between you. “Edit this video for me, then.”

“What, r-really?” you blinked, surprised that he was letting you work for him.

“Uh-huh,” he said casually. “Then we’ll see if I have to keep you or not.”

You pouted instantly at that, but he was already shifting away from you, looking at the camcorder and checking the footage with the ease of someone far too experienced at this.

The screen’s glow reflected faintly against his handsome face as he replayed a few clips, brows slightly furrowed in concentration. Even now, completely relaxed, he somehow still looked annoyingly professional.

“Okay…” you mumbled softly, a little disappointment slipping into your voice before you could hide it.

He noticed immediately. Of course he did.

A smirk pulled at his lips as he lifted the camcorder slightly, teasing you with it. “Make sure you include your pretty moans, baby,” he drawled. “Or else we’ll have to retake this again.”

He stood up then, completely unbothered, removing the cameras from their tripods like the decision had already been made long before you realized it.

Retake.

Oh. He was definitely keeping you.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂˚₊┈┈୨୧┈┈‧₊˚⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂

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[gwonty]

Warnings: NSFW🔞, inmate!Sukuna, anal sex, reader is Sukuna’s prison bitch, he uses you like a toy, reader is a fem woman disguised as a man in prison, power play, dub con-ish (he’s quite rough), overstimulation, idk this is a very long fic

The guard guiding you to your cell snorts when you ask if you’ll have your own space. You can’t exactly explain to him that you’re a woman disguised as a man and need your privacy. Perhaps you’re in over your head.

You gulp as you peek around the loud prison. Large men stare as you pass by. It’s clear they’ve made this place like home, clothes lines full of laundry, some playing card games, comfy slippers, lounging on the tables or mingling about.

“Here you are,” the guard stops in front of an open cell, rolling out his hand, “your penthouse suite.”

It looks like a stale dorm room for the most part. Two metal single beds, a metal toilet, two desks. And zero privacy.

Your supposed cellmate is doing pull ups on a makeshift bar in the middle of the room. His large bare, tatted back faces you, bulging arms, baggy sweatpants, and a head of pure pink hair. He’s grunting with every pull up, but they still seem chillingly effortless.

The guard leans his shoulder against the doorway. “Ryomen,” he whistles loudly as if to get a bull’s attention. “Got a new friend for you.”

Your eyes flick from the amused guard to your new ‘friend’ who gets one last pull-up in before dropping two socked feet to the ground with a grunt. You swear the fucking ground rumbles. He turns towards you and your knees wobble as his shadow over takes you.

Red eyes. Half of his face is mutilated, marred by a fire from long ago, you can surmise. His face tattoos match his body. He’s tall, you wouldn’t even be able to reach the height of his makeshift pull-up bar on the tips of your toes.

You stiffen as he sizes you up like the other inmates did on your way in. You hope you wrapped your chest tight enough. A woman in an all male prison? Not a good idea for too many reasons.

“Hi—” you clear your throat of the high pitched tone, adopting a fake, deeper one, “Hey, bro. It’s uh— cool to meet you— or whatever.”

You could slap yourself. Who are you kidding? You don’t know how to talk like a guy. You should have told Gojo ‘No, no amount of money would make me spend a year in a male prison.’ You shouldn’t have drank so much and stupidly agreed that night at the bar, because now, the best case scenario here is that the guard takes you away and they throw the real you into a women’s prison for trying to ‘fool the system.’

The man takes a step forward, and you’re already tensing for a blow— but he just shoulder checks you on the way out. You stumble a little, immediately going to rub your shoulder.

The guard looks properly amused, holding back a laugh. “Here,” he kicks off the wall, pushing some supplies into your arms. Another guard must have handed these over to him as you greeted your cellmate.

“Have fun,” he makes his brows jump and moseys away.

You deeply exhale through the nerves in your chest, walking towards your bed, if you can even call it that. You drop the supplies onto the thin mattress. Sheets, blanket, toothbrush, etc.

You’ve never been one to pray, but you’re considering it right about now. You shake your head and give yourself something to do: put on your sheets, organize the few toiletries you have on your desk.

After fifteen minutes, some kind of bell rings through the prison and you watch inmates filter out of their cells.

You stand and lean out of the cell curiously. You catch one of them muttering about ‘green beans’ and you realize it’s dinner time.

You enter the crowded mess hall and you’re immediately overwhelmed, clattering trays and chaos. The smell of old meatloaf and sweaty man fills the room.

You keep your head down as you get in line, adopting a slight slouch in hopes to avoid accidental eye contact that could be perceived as a threat. The second you’re pulled into something like a violent altercation, you’ll likely be exposed as a woman quite fast.

Dinner is slop with a side of slop on a metal tray, and you’re realizing why Gojo wanted to avoid this place so adamantly. A fucking paid vacation, he’d said.

You scan the mess hall with the tray in your hands, heart racing.

You spot two guards leaning against the entrance, watching you with amusement— like they’re waiting to see what happens to you, who will pick the runt of the litter. You’re the entertainment. You must look like a little meek boy, shaking in your boots.

It’s packed. Big men in little stools. It reminds you of highschool clicks but worse. You spot your pink haired cellmate, sat alone at the only empty table, but one mean glance up with those red eyes and you’re searching elsewhere.

“Who do we have here?” A deep voice sings as a heavy arm drops around your shoulders.

You glance up at him to see a blue haired man with scars all over his body, like he’d previously had poorly done stitches. He smiles at you with dead eyes.

Some of his friends surround the two of you, bored and idle— but their bulky presence only makes you nervous.

“Need somewhere to sit?” he hums tauntingly, tilting his head down to your level. “My name’s Mahito.”

“Oh, I—”

“Shhh little pet, I’ve got you now. I’ll take you under my wing! You don’t even have to thank me or anything.” His smile makes your spine tense with chills as he moves to stand in front of you.

Do you have another choice? You’re afraid of offending him and his scary friends if you decline.

Mahito continues, as if your acceptance is a given. “Let’s just get some things straight before—”

He’s interrupted by a large fist slamming into his jaw, knocking him right off his feet and onto his ass. Your hands tense around your tray, eyes wide as your gaze snaps to see who just punched Mahito into a limp, dream state.

It’s your pink haired cellmate, looking down at his victim while ringing out his fist like it’s just another Tuesday.

Fights must be common around here, because when you look around, no one seems surprised. Most of the men just mind their business and continue eating their food. Even the two guards are whistling, turning the other cheek.

You gulp. Mahito’s friends don’t even try to defend him, they just back away— like hyenas in the presence of a lion. You hear one of them mutter a name, ‘Sukuna.’

You wonder if anyone is even going to bring Mahito to the infirmary, but when Sukuna’s roaming gaze sweeps over you, all thoughts freeze in fear.

You hold his gaze a beat too long, unsure, until you see a flicker in his expression, a subtle tightening of the corner of his eyes. In a breath, you fold inward, chin dipping down to your chest in retreat.

He breaks the tension first, adjusting his neck as he turns away. He settles back into his seat with his meal, relaxed and borderline bored.

You have no clue what his intentions are, or what saving you signifies. Regardless, you’re relived to not sit with Mahito.

With no other option, you inch your way over to the only empty table where Sukuna sits. He remains focused on his food, ignoring your presence completely as you sit as far away as possible— on the literal side edge of the seat.

You cautiously take a bite, peeking at him defensively, but he remains indifferent.

__________________

Lights out, 9:10 pm.

You lay in your uncomfortable little bed, staring at the dirty ceiling. The cell door clanged shut at exactly 9 pm and when the guard made his final round, flashlight shining through the corridor— he passed by with a slow, deliberate glance followed by a wink that made you feel uncomfortable.

You can’t sleep, tossing and turning for 10 minutes. You shift on your side, unable to lay in one position for longer than two minutes due to this stone of a mattress.

“Quit. Moving.”

You freeze at the demand coming from your cellmate, who probably hasn’t been able to sleep with all of your loud movement.

“Sorry,” you chirp quietly, pressing your lips together between your teeth.

He exhales, deeply. You peek at him and he’s facing the opposite wall, naked back towards you.

You don’t know prison etiquette, are you meant to do something specific if someone saves you from a group of scary individuals like he did earlier? Maybe give him half of your lunch from now on or he’ll take you into the back and beat the teeth out of you?

“Um,” you whisper, practicing your ‘boy’ voice.

You feel the energy in the room shift, like when you were a child sharing a bunk with your sibling and you’d start spouting nonsense to each other after 3am.

“Thank you.”

You feel relief when a silent moment passes, maybe he’s asleep and didn’t hear you, because now that you’ve actually said it, you regret it. How stupid and naive could you be? You reckon gratitude like this may not apply in prison.

He grunts as he adjusts his position, and you cringe at the ceiling, subtly inching your thin blanket up to your chin. Oh. He definitely heard you.

You nod off after too many minutes of silence and you wake in the morning to the sound of the breakfast bell. You all but squeal opening your eyes to see your sweaty cellmate looming over your bed.

You quickly clear your throat, sitting up and glancing around at your surroundings. You kick your ‘boy’ voice up, trying to recover from your girly scream. “Morning.”

He throws a small towel over his shoulder and walks off, unbothered by the strangeness of standing over someone’s bed before they’ve even awoken.

Your breast wraps are still in tact when you peek down under your shirt, so you don’t think he saw anything he wasn’t supposed to.

Breakfast is uneventful, thankfully. Mahito, who has fresh dark bruises along his face, doesn’t even look your way. You sit alone at Sukuna’s table, the same acceptable distance as before.

Things are just okay, you think.

That is, apart from the whole using the bathroom thing. You’ve been putting it off. But, it’s unavoidable.

After breakfast, you peek into your cell where the shared toilet is, only to see Sukuna casually reading a scroll with one hand and doing one armed push ups with the other. The image of using the toilet in here makes your face sour. That’d be a type of humiliation you’d rather avoid, and that’s not even accounting for keeping your gender a secret.

Instead, you settle for the shared bathrooms connected to the showers in one large tiled, communal room.

Standing in front of the toilet stall, you curse Gojo’s entire family line. Because of course the stalls don’t have doors. Somewhere far away, Gojo suddenly feels shivers race down his spine in the middle of his little mochi date.

Apart from the unsettling experience of using the bathroom surrounded by large men shaving and brushing their teeth, you overheard interesting information as you did your business. You had to translate male prison gossip lingo, but apparently Sukuna and Mahito’s little altercation yesterday wasn’t random.

They have history. Something about ‘daring to touching his soul’ — whatever that means. You think soul is code for a drug supply, maybe.

Yesterday’s incident was a ‘checking’ as your fellow inmates say. Mahito was trying to force you, someone weak and new, into his group, which made him look strong among the lower ranks. But when Sukuna stepped in, punching his lights out in front of everyone, it was a show of power.

Mahito dominates people like you, small and submissive by nature, to stay on top, but Sukuna operates on a whole nother level. In that simple act, he showed everyone that you’re on the bottom, people like Mahito are in the middle, and Sukuna reigns on top.

You’re already cringing at your naivety thanking him last night, like he was some knight in shining armor.

Once you get back to your cell, Sukuna’s still reading, this time, sat on his bed all glistening with sweat having finished his workout.

You ignore your nerves walking past him to sit on your own bed with your back against the wall.

You’d scored a notebook and pen from the recreation room, and begin idly drawing the time away. Seeing how he’s the only thing there is to draw in this place, you start sketching Sukuna’s profile.

His nose is particularly a unique shape, reminiscent of the Greek God statues. You glance up for the millionth time to get the particular slope of his bridge committed to memory, and startle to see him looking back at you with a glare.

You slouch into yourself, your face growing hot having been caught staring and you force your eyes back down.

“You keep thinking you’re allowed to do that.”

Your heart rate kicks up at his scary gravelly tone, like a demon having come back to life in the form of his vocal cords. You naively thought he didn’t notice your glances, since he never even spared you a look.

“Sorry,” you mutter quietly.

“Look at me,” he demands in a way that you wouldn’t dare consider disobeying. Fuck. You were hoping he’d just let it be.

You clench your eyes shut for a brief moment, squeezing your pen in your palm before slowly sitting up and peering at him.

“Pitiful. Truly.” He scoffs, looking at your entire form with disgust. “Do you have no honor? Stand.”

You hesitate, gaze flicking, feeling like you’re playing a game of simon says.

“I said,” his tone rumbles as he moves to sit at the edge of his bed, chin resting on his fist, “stand.”

A passing inmate side eyes your open cell, but he minds his business as if it holds a sleeping monster within.

You gently toss your notebook to the side and your brows twitch as you push yourself up to stand, socked feet meeting the cold floor.

You aren’t even sure if you’re meant to be looking at him still, gaze uncertain.

“Now kneel.”

A flashback of how hard Sukuna’s fist met the bone of Mahito’s jaw makes you slowly bend and drop to your knees.

You spot a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes before a judgmental expression takes over, like your obedience is simultaneously sickening and mandatory to him.

“You hold your head quite high,” he hints at your lack of respect, and if putting your forehead on the dirty floor is all he makes you do for disrespectfully staring, you’d probably be lucky.

Your brows pinch in a pout, grossed out with the prospect of it but still, you inch your head down.

“Good,” he drawls the word out with a whispery rasp, “Go on. All the way down.”

Once you’re in a fully seated bow, like a servant in the old ages, he exhales slow and deep. Cathartically.

A long moment passes with his red eyes on the back of your head. The floor smells like dirt and a trace of bleach. You’re completely vulnerable in his position, with the back of your neck exposed and blinded.

Honestly, you’re wondering if Sukuna is still there. It’s so quiet, all you can hear is the subtle mumble of the others outside of the cell in the main area and the tick of the clock.

You prepare to speak by taking in a small breath, and that’s all it takes for Sukuna to snap at you.

“Did I say you could speak?”

You gulp.

“You’re new,” he complains, “The next time you disobey me, you won’t enjoy what I do.”

You hear the bed creak from him standing, but he doesn’t take a step in any direction. Just stands above you.

“Lick the floor.”

Your lips part in shock, blinking at the floor in confusion. You can’t even begin to imagine the disgusting things that line this floor after decades of men coming in and out. You’ve seen the guy who cleans the floors, he’s blind— literally. Humiliation is the only benefit to making someone do something like this, to knock them back into their place. You don’t have another choice.

“Show me,” he snaps, making you flinch. “Your tongue.”

Fuck this place, you obey. Slip your tongue out and slide it against the floor, eyes clenched shut to cope with the taste of everything horrible and bitter.

Pushing your palms to the floor, you lift your head, giving him the pathetic display of your twitching tongue.

The light above halo’s his pink head like a dark angel, and you see his lips curl into a diabolical smile. Pleased with your submission.

He squats, lining his mouth to your ear— not touching, but close enough to hear. “The hell are you looking at?”

Your eyes clench shut as fast as his words come out and you almost flinch when you feel the tip of his finger brush against your clavicle. Your breast wrap is right there—not impossibly close, but too close for comfort. It’s like he’s bringing attention to how frail your bones are, brushing the bone so lightly.

“Speak.”

“You— I’m sorry,” is all you know to spit out around the taste of the bitter floor in your mouth.

He tuts like your answer is just average, a boring C- at best. It seems to be all you know how to say, that and thank you.

“I don’t want trouble— I didn’t know I couldn’t look at you,” you stupidly explain.

“Have a little crush on me?”

You gulp, shaking your head. “N-No.”

He stands. “Why are you here?”

“Because you told me to—” your uncertain gaze flicks around his face but never connects to his eyes.

He interrupts you, repeating himself in a rougher tone, “Why are you here?”

You realize he’s asking why you were locked up.

“Speak. My impatience is not passive you’ll soon find out,” he snaps at you when you don’t immediately answer.

“I— I lost a bet. I needed money.” Technically not a lie, but you can see how your words imply that you robbed someone or something.

He uses a socked foot to nudge at your tummy, and you tense, praying he doesn’t lift it or lower it in either direction.

You’re bracing for a kick, a shove, something. Instead, he simply runs his foot down your abdomen until his toes brush the clothed skin above your pussy. You shiver in anticipated worry, looking up at him through your lashes like he’s a god given the right to deciding your fate.

Just when you think this is it, he’s going to push just an inch lower and notice your lack of dick— he loudly sniffles and walks out like nothing happened.

________________

Later, 11:25 am.

Your one reprieve after your humiliating morning is the library. Everyone has a job in prison— a 0.25$ paying job— but it’s better than nothing. You’d been lucky to land a job sorting books. Pushing a little cart around, organizing the collection of educational texts, self-help, religious, even things like the hunger games— it was nice.

That is, until your heart drops down to your ass when Sukuna pushes you against the shelf, chest pressing into your back.

You gasp, dropping the book in your grasp. Your mind immediately flicks to movies you’ve seen, involving a homemade shiv and a lot of blood, people who have nothing to lose and kill just for the hell of it. You’re an easy target too, smaller than the rest.

“You’re welcome,” he says casually into your ear. He’s not even pushing into you in an overtly sexual manner, just pinning you to the shelves.

You knew he was awake last night. But, he definitely didn’t intentionally protect you from Mahito, no, it had nothing to do with you. He’s taunting you.

You let out a shaky breath, daring to speak just above a whisper. “F—for what?”

“This is how it’s going to work,” he explains, hard hand gripping the back of your neck, “I’m going to fuck your ass, use you until that gratitude dries up and in return— no one will touch you.”

Oh shit. Your face pales. He’s explaining the concept of being a ‘bitch’ to you because it’s your first time in prison. Was it that obvious? (Yes.)

You let out a fearful whine under your breath, so quiet, but being so close, he hears it.

“What’s wrong? Thought you wanted to thank me,” he mocks you, hot breath fanning your ear. Maybe in another universe, you’d beg the domineering man fuck you— as you. But if you want your gender to remain a secret in here, you have no choice but to get out of this.

“I— but,” You grip the shelf harshly, thinking of any excuse, “I’m a virgin!”

A pause. Did that actually work? You’re not an actual virgin, but you’ve never done anal— technically not a lie.

Your bated breath halts when he lets out a boisterous laugh. “Oh?” he drawls like a king on a throne.

You can almost guarantee he feels your heart thumping through your fucking back.

“You’re just a hole. Meant for use. Doesn’t matter to me, I truly don’t care.”

“I— please, I can’t do that for you. I want to— I really want to! But I can’t,” you breathe, hoping you haven’t offended his ego— which you assume is larger than this building. You want to be able to say yes, just so that you don’t have a target on your back.

“Tch,” he clicks in distaste, “I won’t injure you. Is that enough to address your concerns?” You think he mutters a ‘loser’ under his breath but you aren’t sure.

The fact that he’s even trying to quell your fears is surprising, and gives you a spec of hope. It also allows you to consider the idea of what his protection in exchange would mean. Everyone clearly fears Sukuna, you’d get through this year untouched— aside from the obvious.

“Uh—uhm,” you gulp, side glancing back at him as much as his grip will allow. “I’m insecure about uh.. my dick.”

His brows lower into a furrow, looking at you with judgement. “Fine,” he rolls his eyes, “your little cock won’t come out of its confines. Satisfied?”

Are you actually going to do this? Can you even pull this off? The fact that this man even wants to fuck you in the first place is completely out of the blue. You knew things like this happened in here, but from this guy?

You shift. “Why do you want this— with me?”

“I’m not gay,” he scoffs, “Fool. I simply need a flesh light.”

“Oh, and,” he pushes his nose into your head, behind your ear, and sniffs, “you smell nice, like a woman.”

You shiver. It’s horrifying that he can actually smell that on you without knowing it.

“Deal?”

You clench your eyes shut and nod.

He finally pushes off of you and mutters a ‘good’ before walking away and out of the library.

___________

You’ve never been one for the concept of anal. You’d glare whenever a boyfriend would even bring it up. It’s always felt inconsiderate, like you’re just being used when a more pleasurable hole is right there. You’re kind of nervous, but part of you is relieved.

Since you made the deal, Sukuna has ‘claimed’ you. He makes you grab his meals for him, sit across from him in the cafeteria, visible signs of ownership. The other inmates avoid you completely; even a minor bump into your shoulder in passing earns an apology. You’re his now, and everyone knows it. Off limits.

As for your end of the deal, you aren’t sure when Sukuna is going to be in the mood to fuck. You’ve been stealing peeks at him, watching too closely, hoping for a signal, but Sukuna noticed. After that time you practically jumped when he stood up from his bed, he gave you a glare that made your knees weak. Instead, you’ve decided to just wait for him to tell you when he’s ready.

A few days after your library talk, Sukuna finally gives you the signal.

It’s morning, and you wake to see him hovering over your bed once again.

You startle, sitting up quickly as you rub your eyes. “Wh— what happened?”

He tosses you a little bag of chips, the type you can only get from the confectionery, and your brows furrow down at it.

“Um,” you glance at him, unsure, “thank you.” It sounds more like a question than a statement.

“Library, 12 pm. There’s a spot with no cameras in the back.”

Your eyes flicker in recognition, and your heart races as you nod. “Okay, I’ll— um— I’ll be there. That’s great. Sounds good.”

He deadpans at your pathetic attempt at speaking and walks off.

You can’t help but feel a weird affection placing the bag of chips under your bed, rolling your eyes at yourself. It’s a bag of chips, and you have more to worry about than catching feelings for this guy.

You have to prep.

The communal showers are sectioned by half walls and curtains. You’ve been able to shower, dry yourself, wrap your breasts, and get dressed all inside of the little shower section without anyone seeing your important body parts since you’ve been here. Still, you’d rather some privacy as you do what needs to be done today.

Thankfully, it’s empty when you check the showers while breakfast is taking place.

You stand there naked under the water, toes curling in nerves as you slowly bring the empty bottle up to fill it with water. A homemade douche. It’s mildly humiliating shooting water up your ass but it’s a necessary evil.

About a few hours later, you’re sorting books like your job entails, while anxiously glancing at the door and wall clock every two minutes with anticipation.

At 12:03 he pushes the door open, and you immediately turn your head back to face the shelves.

You hear him snap at the only person reading at a table, forcing them to leave. Your heart races when you hear him lock the entrance door behind them.

You stupidly pretend you’re deciding which shelf the book in your hands belongs on as his heavy footsteps close the distance between you.

He settles right beside you and you peek up at him.

“Come.” He nods his head, gesturing you to follow as he turns and leads you to the last isle, all the way to the back of the room.

“Right here?” You glance at the camera in the corner.

“Right here.”

You gasp when he grabs your hips and manhandles you over to the very corner of the isle, pressed into the shelf with your back to him. “It’s a blind spot.”

“Okay,” you lick your lips nervously, fumbling with the hem of your sweatpants. “I— how do we— should I just—?”

He squeezes his big hands over your shaky ones, stopping you. “Relax,” he snaps. “Ass fucking is not that difficult. It’ll be a lot easier for you than it is for women.”

You gulp at that, his (rude) reassurance means nothing considering the obvious.

He swats your hands away and you squeak when he pulls your sweatpants down enough to expose your ass to the chilly air.

You curiously glance back when you hear a click of a cap opening. He squirts an ungodly amount of lube into his palm and tosses it aside. (How did he even obtain lube in here?)

“Pretty fucking ass,” he says as if it’s an insult, using one hand to spread your cheek and slide a glob onto your hole with two fingers.

You cringe at the cold feeling of the gel as he rubs your hole, anticipating him shoving his finger in there.

“It’s gonna hurt,” you say wearily, “right?”

He rolls his eyes, using his middle finger to push at the resistance of the rim.

You gasp when it pops in. He slowly massages your insides in a manner to loosen the very edges, preparing the most taught of the muscles to stretch. It’s more weird than uncomfortable feeling something wiggling around in there.

“You’re lucky I’m doing this,” he rasps, “Virgin.”

“Thank you,” you squeak. He uses his free hand to shove your hips out a bit more.

He whispers as he pulls his finger out, “How’s it feel knowing you’re about to get fucked in the ass? Feel the shame yet?”

You gulp and clench your eyes shut when you catch a glimpse of his hefty cock being pulled out of his sweats. A large, scary winding vein catches your eye.

“Slow,” you chirp as he presses the tip to your ass, “please go slow.”

He notches his chin over your head, wrapping one arm around your tummy to push your back into his chest and grunts, “I will.”

His large body envelops you, like a hard hug. If it weren’t for his tip forcing your asshole to open up, you’d probably enjoy being held by a big man like this.

You hiss, unable to keep your hands from snapping back and digging your nails into his hips. The intrusion is uncomfortable, so odd and unnatural to have something this big pushing into your backside.

He doesn’t seem to mind your nails, undulating the tip around in circles within the very inside so you can get used to the feeling.

“That’s it,” he drawls, “open up.”

You let out a high-pitched whine and your ‘boy’ persona is thrown out of the window, completely irrelevant as he inches the rest of it in. He’s fully seated.

“Okay, okay,” you gasp, frantically tapping his hip and toned back, “don’t move yet.”

He exhales deeply, like he feels relaxed having finally mounted a warm hole. His warm huffs of breath calm you as they steadily fan the side of your head.

“Tick tock,” he hums after a minute of your hole pulsing around him in attempt to cope with the intrusion. “It will hurt less if I move.”

“Fuck,” you whimper, shaky hands moving to brace against the shelves. “Okay, fine.”

“Good.” He wraps one hand roughly around your mouth and his other arm holds your midsection taut to his front.

You squeal behind his hand when he pulls out and barrels back in with one hard rut. It hurts, but somehow, his large dick has reached your g-spot through your ass. You likely have a bulge in your tummy from the way his tip is angled to push down against your vaginal canal through the back door.

“Ahhh.” He tilts his head and rumbles an exhales right into your ear, like he’s dipping into a nice, warm hot-spring.

It doesn’t take long for him to set a rhythm, rocking his hips in short, hard thrusts. The contact of your cheeks meeting his hips creates a loud ‘plap,’ bouncing off the books in lewd repetition. His harsh breaths are the most you receive from him in terms of vocalized pleasure, but sometimes he offers a grunt.

Your feet shuffle with every hit, toes barely touching the ground as his strong hold keeps you up in the air like you’re just a human sized flesh light. He’s using you, and you can’t deny his incidental abuse of your g-spot feels good.

“You moan like a fuckin girl,” he hisses into your ear as he pounds your ass.

You can only moan under his palm, confirming his what he thinks is an insult. The jackhammering is short and mean, barely a few inches of his base exiting your puckering hole before stuffing it back inside.

“This ass is mine,” he grunts as your clit throbs with need, “Pathetic fuck. Letting a guy bend you over.”

Your legs shake as he grows frantic and mean, putting horrifying strength behind each thrust. You’re fucking like bunnies, your body frantically jostles up and down and you’d be embarrassed if it weren’t for how he’s completely dominating you. A few books fall right off of the shelf and clatter to the carpeted floor with the force of it all. You wonder if he’s fucking you this hard because he thinks you’re a man, that you can and should be able to handle it.

You exhale sharply out of your nose, eyes clenched shut as you take his last few slams.

“Fuck!” He grunts, throwing his head back as his grip on you grows so harsh you’ll have bruises on your waist later. You feel his dick pulse as he dumps his load as deep as he can go into your ass, keeping his hips still against your irritated asscheeks.

Finally he sighs as he slides out, making your hole clench shut the second the intrusion is gone.

You practically stumble for balance as he lets you go, knees buckling. Pussy dripping and confused while your ass aches.

You want to just collapse right here, take a much needed rest, but you can’t risk an accidental flash of your pussy. You pull your sweatpants up, out of breath.

He tucks his dick back in, glancing down at you with a glow of physical relief on his face. “You took me well,” he licks his top teeth, tilting his head. “Did you enjoy getting your cherry popped?”

That was almost a compliment. Your insides are still screaming for an orgasm and a break simultaneously. You feel your face rise in temp, pathetically, and you can’t help but tuck your chin to your chest.

“Just fucked you and you’re getting shy.” He snickers with a look of disgust. “I think i’ll play with you again and again until I tire of this.”

He doesn’t even give you a chance to respond before moseying out of the library, adjusting his dick in his pants as he goes.

Somehow, you’d gotten away with the first fucking without revealing your secret. Aside from not having a chance to finish the job and rub yourself to a much needed orgasm, you’re quite proud of yourself.

Sukuna doesn’t speak to you more than usual following the act, he’s just not the type. Does one speak to their flesh light between uses?

That night, you almost believe you’re dreaming when you wake up to Sukuna’s weight lying directly on top of you. You couldn’t sleep comfortably on your sore ass, so you’d had to sleep on your tummy, giving him a perfect opportunity.

“Again,” he rasps into your ear, grinding against your ass. You must have done well earlier if he’s already back for more, or he’s fond of how your asshole feels.

You tiredly whine and lower your groggy tone to say, “But the guards will hear— and the others.”

He ignores your concerns and crawls down your body, yanking your sweats down. You squeak, pushing a hand under yourself to keep your pants up at the front.

You glance over your shoulder. “What are you— oh!”

He spreads your ass and licks a stripe up your asshole, terrifyingly close to your pussy. So close your pussy clenches in anticipation, having a sweet mind of its own.

He pauses as he looks down at your hole with furrowed brows. It’s dark enough that he won’t be able to see the feminine parts of you, you hope.

He doesn’t say a word about his pause, just brings his face back down and pushes his tongue into your ass. He wriggles it around and you cringe, gripping the sheets as he stimulates your sore hole. You can’t even tell if it feels good to have your ass ate, or if it’s the concept of this man with his face in your ass, or the fact that you’re just fucking horny and begging for scraps.

After one last lick from your hole all the way up to your lower back, he crawls up to lay on you with his lips to your ear.

“Why the fuck is your ass sweet?” he asks as he lifts his hips to yank his cock out. Your brows raise, almost letting out a snicker. It must be due to your pussy leaking wetness down to your ass all day since the library.

“I— I don’t know,” you mumble as he holds one of your cheeks open and slides his tip against your hole.

“Just,” he grunts as he pops the tip in, not even waiting before pushing in to the hilt, “stay quiet and I’ll be done in a second.”

You whine under your breath, fisting the sheets as your toes curl. His legs surround the outsides of yours as his arms wrap around your neck in a loose headlock. You aren’t sure you can stay quiet if he pounds you like he did before without his hand covering your mouth. Getting caught with his dick in your ass doesn’t sound so great.

But fuck, you suddenly don’t care because his abs clench as he lifts his hips and slides back in, already gaining a stead rhythm. It’s slower than before, but hard. Your eyes roll back at how passionate it is, fingers pressing into his pulsing arms around your neck. You can’t remember the last time a man truly put his heart into fucking you.

You think you may be able to enjoy this little arrangement after all, considering his dick is big enough to pound into your g-spot with every hump. Maybe his claim on you, the free use of it all, is charming too.

But then, he begins to slide a hand down under you and you freeze.

He’s reaching for your nonexistent dick.

You snap your hand down to grip his wrist, stopping him, but you know that he could bypass your frail hold if he really wanted to.

“D-Don’t touch,” you breathily murmur through his continued thrusts.

“Tch,” he grunts in distaste, “Won’t see your ugly dick. You should be thanking the gods that I’d even try to touch you.”

You wish you could allow him to touch, rub your clit, finger you, fuck you the proper way. But no matter how horny you are, you have to have a clear head about this. If he knew you were a woman, he could tell the guards— or worse, tell the other inmates and let them have a turn with you. That’s just the tip of the iceberg of the horrible things that could happen to you if you’re exposed.

“I know, I know,” you gulp, lips parting as he manages a particularly nice thrust, “just— next time. Okay? Next time.”

He huffs, exasperated and gives up, moving his hand away and instead uses it to dig into your hip to get a better angle.

“Fuuck,” you breathe in a particularly girly way as he reaches deeper, and he hisses in your ear in obvious pleasure. He seems to enjoy the way you ‘moan like a woman.’

“Good,” he thrusts, “little,” thrust, “hole.”

He cums with a last few pitiful humps and rubs his hips against your ass in a circle as if to make sure his cum is deeep in there.

You feel utterly spent when he pulls out, two loads in your ass just from today and you’re clocking out.

He doesn’t even give you another look as he gets up and stretches with a yawn, wet dick still hanging about his thigh.

You pull your sweats up with a grimace at how sore your asshole feels. If you weren’t so horny, you might be annoyed how beat up your insides feel.

You exhale in relief when he passes out the second he flops down into bed like any average man does. You’re already thinking of some way to fool him into thinking you have a cock by the next time he wants to fuck.

_______

You’ve stolen a cucumber from the kitchen. It wasn’t easy, but you managed.

Sukuna has you up against the cell bars and has grown quite confident in his ability to fuck you within an inch of your life. He doesn’t seem like he’s all that invested in you, after all, he still thinks of you as some boy he’s using to get off. But you’re still enjoying it as much as any woman can reasonably enjoy anal.

He definitely seems to enjoy fucking you too, because you can feel his thighs shake as he pounds into you.

He kicks your feet wider and reaches around you to grab at your ‘dick.’ “Gonna let me touch it now?”

You gulp, peeking down at his hand that finds the cucumber and grips it.

“Jesus Christ, you’re fucking hard.”

You would laugh in his face if he wasn’t obliterating your insides with heavy humps.

He slowly begins to knead your ‘cock’ and the only way you know that, is because the tip of the cucumber incidentally rubs against your clit with every one of his strokes.

“Oh shit,” you breathe, brows raising and blinking into an eye roll of surprise pleasure. The stimulation to your clit and g-spot is like heaven after two days of being pent up.

“Don’t— don’t stop,” you beg, making his brow quirk.

The second you start fucking back into his cock, like an auto-masterbater, Sukuna’s eyes roll and his orgasm appears in the distance.

He sinks his teeth into your shoulder, indifferent to the pain he could be causing and meets your thrusts half way. There’s no way you’re not waking the entire cell block with the slapping sound bouncing off the concrete walls.

You sigh in disappointment when he lets go of your ‘dick’ and uses both hands to grip your hips, thrusting harder than ever.

He hisses an inhale like it hurts, a string of saliva connecting your shoulder to his teeth— and cums as his feet slightly shuffle.

“Phew,” he exhales, pulling out and tucking his dick back in. He crashes right into bed, just like before, and leaves you throbbing and needy. Again.

_____________

Sometime in the middle of the night, Your cell.

Sukuna has turned ravenous, he wants to fuck everyday, at least twice. It’s a bit much because you have to prep the same day before anal, and you’ve had to turn him down. Not without worries of how he’d take the rejection with little explanation, but thankfully, all he did is tsk and walk off.

One day of no sex, and he’s been staring at you through the entire day. When you wake up, in the cafeteria, on walks, while you draw on your bed. It’s frightening since you can’t read his expression that’s always resting in a threatening way. Would it be stupid to ask what he’s feeling?

Honestly, you just wanted him to wait until you could prep, and then he could have at it— but he didn’t get the message. And it’s not like you can just tell him, ‘Hey Sukuna, you can fuck my ass anytime now. Clock’s ticking!’ That’d mean you’re actively seeking anal, and that’s ridiculous. Right?

You shrug it off and decide to ignore his stare, focusing your attention on the book in your hands. He’s a big boy, if he needs something, he’ll ask for it.

And ask for it, he does.

You gasp when you’re suddenly pushed down flat to your bed, strong hands spreading your legs so Sukuna can rest between them as your book clatters to the floor. You hadn’t even heard his footsteps, or the creak of his bed as he stood.

“Jesus Christ,” you breathe, looking up at him with your heart racing out of your chest. “You scared me.”

His clothed bulge is hovering just above your pussy, but if he rested his weight down a few inches, you’re fucked. Maybe literally.

He must have just showered, his hair is damp and dark pink. He looks down at you hungry, like you’re not a person but a fucktoy with a timed lock on it that’s almost ready to use again, licking his bottom lip. “Does this fix your problem? Can I fuck you now, princess?”

Your brows furrow, an obvious question mark on your expression. You ignore the pet name meant to taunt you, because you’re not a man with toxic masculinity.

He rolls his eyes. “I’m not kissing you. Missionary is as romantic as I’ll get. Take it or leave it.”

What? He must have misinterpreted your rejection as a desire for more intimacy and affection when you have sex. The idea of missionary with Sukuna makes your tummy flutter— but you can’t.

You press your lips together, concealing a laugh. “Oh. Um— no,” you gently press against his chest, “I like how we usually do it.”

“You know,” he leans into your face, “I’m getting real tired of you bossing me around.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, recalling your excuse for keeping your dick out of sight, “I just feel— uh—insecure.”

“Fuck that,” he grunts, grabbing hold of the hem of your sweats, “Only way to get over that shit is to face it.”

You grasp his wrist, nervously. It’s not like you don’t want Sukuna to know you’re a woman so you can fuck the way you want to, it’s just too complicated and risky.

“I— really, let’s just do it against the wall, like we always do!” you attempt to convince him as he pulls against your hold.

He doesn’t say a word, just squints at you like he can smell bullshit in your words.

Suddenly, he yanks your pants all the way down until they fall to the floor and you immediately cup your sex, trying to hide from him. You twist your lower half to lie on your side, legs bent around his side so they can stay together.

He glances down at your lower half and grips your thigh. “Show me,” he snaps, more suspicious than warranted if he actually believed your lies of insecurity.

You shake your head stubbornly, clenching your eyes shut.

“Now,” he allows the word to reverberate against the walls of the cell, and you swear you can feel the vibrations in your chest.

That domineering tone is like a frequency that emits a wave of submission in timid people like you, like a lions roar to a cornered bunny.

Still, you don’t open your legs.

He scoffs a huff of air, like he’s in disbelief of your sudden ability to grow balls. Pun intended.

You peek your eyes open when you feel him shift to crawl down your body until his breath is fanning your hand covering your pussy and naked asshole.

You squeak when he slides his tongue against your fingers. “Open up,” he taunts, giving your asshole a little lick as well.

You whimper as he begins licking at your hand and your thighs, resolve dissolving with every warm, wet touch.

“I’m— I’m scared,” you admit with panic, though you’re being too vague for him to actually console you even if he wanted to.

He takes a big bite out of your thigh and you gasp, pussy clenching in need from the sting. Your wetness has made your hands slippery, and the second he takes another bite, this time a deep one on your fingers, your hand slips away with a sting and a hiss.

He takes the opportunity to yank your legs apart, spreading them over each of his thighs till you’re on full display in front of him. Like a plate.

Your wide eyes flick from your exposed pussy, to his red eyes trained down between your legs. You quickly reach to futilely cover yourself once again.

“Aht!” he scolds, pinning your wrists to the bed on either side of your body before they can cover your sex again. “Don’t fucking move,” he snaps, inches from your face.

You must have the expression of a small animal being prepped for slaughter as he closely eyes you because that’s exactly how you feel. You watch his face shift as he realizes your features aren’t just girly, you’re a fucking girl.

“Please.” You plead him, but for what exactly?

He exhales into you, ignoring you to observe your body. He lets go of one wrist to slowly raise the hem of your shirt up to your collarbones, revealing a tightly wrapped chest.

As if he needs to make sure, he rips it away and blinks at your bouncing tits. One last look at your pussy and he huffs harshly, gazing into your eyes like he just won the lottery.

“Holy shit.”

You’re mute, afraid and frozen in place as your legs clench around his hips, trying to close them around him even though it’s impossible.

“Why are you here?”

He watches you with equal parts curiosity and amused awe.

“I— I made a deal. A stupid fucking deal,” you breathe in your natural feminine voice. It’s not hard to assume the deal was money for time in prison.

He shakes his head, laughing airily like he can’t believe his eyes. “Now this is so very interesting. A woman in my cell.”

He leans into your ear, making your chest and tummy erupt in goosebumps. “I knew your little asshole was too good to be true.” He nips your ear and you whine.

“Don’t— please don’t tell anyone.”

Your quiet request makes him burst out laughing, head tossing back as he hovers over you territorially.

“Tell them?” A vein in his forehead pops as his gaze manically flicks back and forth from each of your eyes, “No, you foolish little thing. You’re all mine. You’d have to fucking kill me to share this pretty pussy.”

You aren’t sure if you should feel relived or scared. You’ve grown fond of Sukuna’s cock, but that look in his eye is downright diabolical.

“You’re,” you begin with a swallow, “not gonna hurt me?”

“Ohhh,” he breathes cathartically like he’s battling aggression seeing something so small and delicate beg not to be broken. “No, no. I’m not gonna hurt you. You’re safe with me.”

You aren’t so sure, if that glint in his eye and tone in his deep voice tells you anything. Like mouse encountering a perfect piece of cheese suspiciously sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor, begging to be eaten.

He leans in and lays a soft kiss to your cheek, making you blink.

“See?” he hums smiling, “I know exactly how to handle with care.”

He presses his nose to your neck and starts sniffing you loudly, like a dog— down to your breasts, your tummy, and finally he takes a good long sniff of your pussy.

You slap your hands to your face in embarrassment and he groans loudly on an exhale, jaw pinching as he clenches his teeth. “Fuuuck. Nothing quite like it. Your pussy smells very nice,” he trails off with a manic laugh, licking his lips.

His eye catches on your pinched brows once you hesitantly pull your hands away to grip the sheets and he leans into your face with a careful kiss to your jaw. “Deal still on, baby?”

You absolutely have no choice, you need his protection now more than before. Without this deal, there’s no telling what he’d do— no matter what he says. And even if he keeps his word, who’s to say no one else will find out your secret? It helps that he’s hauntingly sexy with a big dick he knows what to do with.

You gulp, nodding. “Yes, please.”

“Goood,” his lip curls as he drawls the word out, “That’s very good.”

He licks a wet stripe up the side of your face, making you grip his biceps.

“Are we going to have sex? My— You want my—”

He interrupts your stutter by humming against your cheek with amusement. “Oh yes. I want your pussy. I’m gonna take it over and over again.”

You exhale a sigh, eyes slightly rolling back, enjoying his words a little too much for the situation at hand.

“I’m not on birth control,” you warn him weakly as he begins to suck on your neck.

He hums nonchalantly, slowly sliding his hand down your tummy.

Your hips jerk when he cups your entire sex, long cold fingers pressing into your warm folds that are just begging for love.

“We don’t have condoms,” you add, biting your lip as he uses two middle fingers to carefully brush from your slippery hole up to your clit.

He chuckles against your neck, wickedly, like he’s enjoying every aspect of this conversation.

“No, we don’t,” he agrees with a smile you can literally hear on his voice.

Your jaw drops as he starts rubbing leisurely circles against your throbbing clit, back arching to press your abdomen into his hard abs.

“You have to pull out,” you whine in a broken moan.

“Okay,” he agrees with ease, moving to press his lips to yours.

You barely kiss him back, as his lips slide and suck on yours.

“I thought you said you didn’t want to kiss me,” you say, muffled as your legs tremble.

He moves his middle fingers down and slides one into your core, making you gasp into his mouth.

He abruptly shoves his tongue into your mouth, sliding and flicking against your tongue. He peeks the tip of his pointer finger in to join his middle inside you, and once your initial ring of resistance gives, he shoves it in like a glove.

“Oh,” you whine, brows pinching and toes curling. “Your fingers are so— fuck— they’re big.”

“Oho,” he breathes as he unhurriedly rocks them in and out, “You’ve been so unsatisfied, haven’t you? Getting ass fucked with not one touch to your pretty, crying little pussy.”

You nod erratically, “I was just so scared if you found ou— oh god.”

He gradually puts weight behind his thrusts, fingering you at an angle to abuse your g-spot.

“You thought I would want to hurt you,” he assumes with a pitying smile, “No, no. I just wanna fuck the shit out of you.”

You reach down and grip his wrist, but his hand in motion makes it difficult.

“Please make me cum,” you beg, “I’d be really— so grateful.”

“Yeah?” He presses a peck to your lips and crawls down to stuff his face between your legs. “Finally,” he sighs to your pussy.

He glances up at you and pecks your jumping clit. “Gonna eat your pussy. You want that?”

Your eyes roll back and you nod pathetically. “Oh my god, yes.”

He doesn’t waste time. He makes a pursing motion with his lips and basically sucks your clit into his mouth like a vacuum, gently suckling on it with his eyes blissfully closed. His free hand rests around your hip and flat against your lower tummy.

Your brain is fucking buzzing, toes curling in the air as you breathe short, pathetic breaths. You’re delightfully surprised he knows you need your clit stimulated to cum; a man in prison just isn’t the type you’d expected to know what most women need.

You use both hands to gently curl into his pink hair, watching his lips envelop your clit as the motion of his hand rocks into you.

“That feels good,” you affirm, voice shaky, making sure he knows he’s going a good job so he doesn’t feel motivated to stop.

He doesn’t answer you, just flicks his tongue against your clit with horrifying stamina, like his tongue is as trained as the rest of his body. You don’t feel a second of lag in his force behind his tongue and that yummy suction.

You melt when he transitions into thorough, flat tongued licks, the kind that nudges your clit in a way that’s not too overstimulating— but genuinely pleasurable in a sustainable way. You could actually cum like this. You rub his head like a masseuse, kneading the skin affectionately, making his brows and forehead slightly move with your massage.

He eats you like he hasn’t eaten his favorite meal in a long time, and considering the slop in the cafeteria, your delirious mind thinks it makes perfect sense that he’s probably soo hungry. It’s not his fault he’s so eager.

Your toes curl as your abdomen clenches inward, honing your focus to find an orgasm in the distance with every specifically pressurized slide of his tongue.

He tilts his head idly, side to side and the second he finds that perfect angle to the left, you gasp and yank his head impossibly closer.

“Right there, huh?” is the last thing he says before repeating the motion perfectly, over and over and over while his hand continues at ample speed. It’s about 27 licks in when the white blinds your sight and you give in to the ecstasy of an orgasm.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you— fuck!” you stupidly babble the one phrase you can’t seem to stop repeating to the man ever since you met him, voice strained and slurring as your brain short circuits and cuts off the connection between your motor skills and brain signals.

Even when you fall limp with fading euphoria, frailly whining, ‘no more,’ his big mouth attaches to your entire slit like a fucking milk pump, despite acknowledging your orgasm passing by discarding his wet fingers to join his other hand on your hip/tummy area.

It’s an interesting sight— your weak, spasming body jerking in overstimulation as he blissfully hallows his cheeks and enjoys your cunt with all kinds of tongue techniques. The type of techniques a stupidly rich man has learnt after so many wine tastings to get the full taste profile of every berry inside to layer over his every tastebud. Getting his full money’s worth of this favorite thing.

But fuck if it doesn’t feel good to be licked, even with the ultra sensitivity of an after glow.

“Sukuna— please,” you whimper, “Aren’t you gonna fuck me?”

That’s what makes him pause, flicking open his relaxed, heavily lidded gaze.

He unsuctions your warm folds, letting go in one popping motion and you exhale sharply when the cold air hits you.

He crawls up your body like a predator, more than twice your size. He slides his arms under your back to hold you flush to his body, hugging you in a possessive hold. One hand wraps around the back of your neck, fingers almost meeting at the front, and the other massages your lower back.

“Am I popping your pussy cherry too?” he hums, lips brushing yours as he speaks into your mouth.

“No,” you huff, “Is that a deal breaker?”

He nips your lower lip. “I’m gonna eat you whole,” he expresses how deeply he wants to fuck you— how small a concern like being a virgin would be to him.

You shiver, and maybe even start to consider why he’s in prison in the first place. Eat you.. whole..?

“Can we fuck first?”

He licks his teeth as his metaphorical tiger tail flicks behind him— like a bunny has triggered a tigers instinct to play while in the midst of a chase. If he could purr, he would be right about now.

Interrupting your little moment, the breakfast bell rings. Sukuna must have made his move an hour before six while you were reading the night away and neither of you noted the time. Sukuna had thought it’d be a 10 minute ass fuck, but now that he’s stumbled upon gold in the form of a woman, he’s gotten distracted.

You’re expecting Sukuna to be frustrated that you have to stop before you even reached the main event, but surprisingly, he just helps you get dressed and then stands lazily by the cell bars to cover you while you wrap your chest so no one eyes his plaything.

The guard just passes by boredly, doing morning checks, nodding at Sukuna in brief greeting.

Once the guard is out of sight, you huff in exhaustion and sit up on your bed. After all the fear of being exposed as a woman and having an orgasm like that, all you want is to sleep. You literally nod off as you sit there, listening to the ruffle of Sukuna throwing on some new clothes.

Two taps to your cheek makes you startle, slurping up some drool as you open your eyes. Sukuna squats in front of you, holding your knees.

“Breakfast,” he reminds you, “get up.”

You pout at his tone, having hoped he’d soften up to you after learning you’re a woman. A woman he desperately wants to fuck and protect and own.

“Can’t you bring it to me?”

He blinks at you, deadpanning. “The fuck did you just say?”

You flinch a bit, chin tucking into your chest. You grow even more alert as he stands and pushes over you, making you lean back in bed with your palms behind you, supporting your weight right beside his own larger ones.

“Does this pretty little thing want to be punished?”

You immediately bite your lip, smiling as he pushes his head into your neck to nip at it.

“Mhm, keep doing that,” you encourage his panty dropping neck kisses.

Oncoming footsteps leading closer and closer to your cell make your heart jolt, and suddenly he roughly pushes you down flat with a veiny hand tight around your throat.

“Begging for a beating so early in the morning are we, boy?” he rasps, menacingly, as the inmate walks past, peeking at your altercation briefly before scurrying off in fear of becoming involved in Sukuna’s business.

You smile.

Oh. This’ll be fun.

______

SORRY edged you there, didn’t I?

Also not sure if this counts as gender bend? Lmk if I should add it to the warnings!

Huge thanks to @specialgradefckr for giving me soo many ideas that I used for this fic— I love yew sm I wanna eat you. Please check out their page. They have delicious writing

[simjakedly]

the summer i got horny - s.jy

main masterlist

summary. nerdy sim jaeyun is sweating buckets when the baddie he's been crushing on sits in his lap on a two-hour road trip.

pairing. nerdy!jake x baddie!female reader

genre(s). oneshot, smut, big porn with a small plot

warnings. MDNI, jake is a professional yearner, jake is very shy and repressed (and a bit insecure), masturbation, pervert!jake, unprotected sex (pls don’t), subby switch!jake, top or bottom he's always a sub, reader is a bit mean, jake cries a lot and begs a lot, slight sunsunki if you squint, handjob, blowjob, nose-riding, jake eats her out as well, reverse cowgirl, cowgirl, missionary, BRO WHY IS IT NEVER-ENDING, but like it's messy, EDGING EDGING EDGINGGGG, reader calls him jaeyun, reader is jealous and possessive, implied aftercare, enhypen ensemble, hmm please let me know if i missed anything! not beta read we die like injang

word count. 14,807 words

note. oh boy! this used to be a veeeery old, 8k-word draft, my take on nerdy jake that i decided to polish and give life to. it is also a gift for my bestie and fellow jake's wife: dr. @twocupsofsuga 🫶🏼 congratulations on passing medschool! you're so smart mhm here's my lap dance for you 😏

Women make Sim Jaeyun nervous.

Especially someone as bold and confident like you.

There's something about the soft lilt of your voice that makes him feel ashamed to even speak in your presence. There's something about your enticing eyes that makes him stutter and stumble with his own words, his grammar-police persona flying out the window. There's something about the sure sway of your hips that makes him want to avert his gaze and look more all the same time; like something sinful he shouldn't want but crave for anyway.

You're the kind of woman that makes Sim Jaeyun nervous.

Park Jongseong's cousin from the States that always comes to visit for summer, with that bold show of your body that'll usually often get frowned upon in his neighbourhood, that honey tint of your skin that's far from the local society's beauty standard. You're upfront and so unapologetically you, something he admires and makes him overly conscious if his hair looks nice or not.

It's another summer and you're here again. You're always a welcome addition to their annual trip to Jay's beach house, a road trip that's usually joined by the other five plus you and him. But this year, Nishimura Riki had a last minute decision to cancel his flight to Japan and opted to spend the summer with them instead of with his family.

Which leaves all of you with no space for one person inside Jay's SUV.

"I call dibs on the rear seats," Heeseung says before anyone gets the chance to and disappears into the car. Riki opens his mouth, about to follow the eldest of the group, when Jungwon shoots him a sharp look and blocks his way with his hand.

"No, Riki. You're not getting a seat."

Riki's face morphs into horror. "What?! Am I excluded from this trip?"

"You cancelled your flight this morning. You were never included in the trip."

Seeing the look of hurt on his face, Sunoo actually takes pity on Riki. Peering inside, the blonde mumbles with a pout when he sees a small ice box sitting beside Heeseung. "Surely we can squeeze him into the rear seat, right…?"

"All of his six-feet-one ass? I'd like to see you try, Sunoo hyung." Jungwon shakes his head. He leans on the passenger door, already the assigned co-pilot of the car, in charge of Spotify playlist and Waze and moral support to his Jay hyung. "Either one of you sits in another's lap, or we can Uber Riki to the beach house."

Hearing that, Riki immediately throws his hands. "It's a two-hour drive, hyung, I might just be paying for the Uber's car loan! It's gonna be so expensive!"

"If you can afford cancelling your flight with no refunds, then I think you can afford an Uber to Sokcho."

Riki whips his head to his Sunoo and Jake hyung, jutting out his lips in a pout that's borderline pitiful. Jake mirrors his expression, not really having the power to go against Jungwon's verdict—as if anybody could. Jake pities him, really, but it's Yang Jungwon. There's a whole menace behind those cute dimples and boba eyes.

Beside him, Sunghoon lets out a long sigh. "Then one of us will have to sit in another's lap."

It's an option that has everybody darting their eyes around, afraid that any eye contact with Jungwon will make them become the sacrificial thighs for the two-hour road trip. They're all men packed with mass and muscles, a result of a gym routine that unexpectedly becomes a problem today. Each of them at least weighs one hundred-forty pounds. Jake's sure that if he was chosen, he'd lose his legs by the time they exit Seoul.

Just in time, a loud thud is heard from the car boot. You and Jay walk into the scene, just having finished loading all of their stuff into the car. Jake adjusts his glasses instinctively, unknowingly fixing his appearence when his eyes land on you.

You've abandoned your cardigan, now only wearing a yellow camisole top that only reaches your belly button and a pair of jeans shorts that ends at the bottom swell of your ass. Your outfit choice hides nothing about your figure—your perfect body that admittedly has always been on his mind.

Jake gulps and lets his eyes trail down to your legs. You're seriously one of the most beautiful and hottest girls he's ever seen, and unfortunately, he has a severe problem of having a crush on baddies who are completely out of his nerdy league. You're definitely one of them.

When he looks up, Jake almost faints when your gaze catches his eyes with an unreadable expression. He quickly averts his eyes, adjusting the thick black rims of his glasses that didn't need adjusting.

Did you notice him staring?

"Car seat problem?" Jay asks when he senses the tension among the boys, already foreseeing this issue the moment Riki told him that he was joining their road trip over the phone this morning. They hesitantly nod.

"So what's the solution?"

"Riki takes an Uber to Sokcho—"

"Which will cost him his tuition fees," Jay comments, ever the hyperbole-user.

"—Or someone has to sit in another's lap."

Judging from the expression on Jay's face, he, too, doesn't think it's a comfortable position to be sitting in on a two-hour road trip.

But apparently, someone thinks otherwise.

"Oh, then let's do that!" You pipe in, flashing them with your charming smile. "I don't mind doing it!"

There's an elephant silence that follows your statement. Upon seeing their gaped expression, your smile slowly dies down, unsure if you had said the right thing.

"…Or not."

"Or yes!" Riki interrupts, relief flooding his senses. His eyes lit up as he looks around at each one of his friends. "Guys, she's offered to sit in anyone's lap. We can do that, right?"

Jungwon narrows his eyes. "It's a two-hour drive."

Riki blinks nervously. "But noona wants it."

"Then let Y/N noona sit in your lap."

Now, there's a rosy blush blooming across Riki's cheeks. Jake frowns. Lucky bastard. "I-I mean—"

"Not him," you cut in, a small smile playing on your lips. Jake can feel the exact moment everyone holds their breath, as if the air pauses on its own accord and waits for the rest of your sentence. Either they're anticipating or dreading to be your exclusive seat in the car—he's not sure. He's certain that he's the former, but he's also certain you'd pick someone more your type—Sunghoon or Riki, who are loyal gym buddies that possess strong thighs for you to sit on—or even Heeseung who's abandoned his nap and is eavesdropping the conversation now.

He doesn't know why, but surely someone hot like you would pick someone just as hot, right? And hot in Sim Jaeyun's definition is someone who matches your confidence (not him), someone who has a good body and is not shy to show them (Jake thinks his body is nice, but he's also always wearing long-sleeves), or just anyone but him.

Jay pinches the bridge of his nose. "Then who?"

When your eyes meet Jake's, the brown-haired boy almost loses his breath.

A smile curves up your lips. Jake thinks he's hallucinating because there's no way you are smirking at him.

"With Jaeyun."

There's a ripple of gasps, disbelief and shock mixing with a hint of betrayal (no doubt from Riki). Jay's brow disappears behind his hair.

"Seriously, Y/N? You don't have to—Riki's rich enough to pay for the Uber."

Riki's protest is muffled when Jungwon pulls him into a chokehold and slaps a hand over his mouth. Jake wants to pity him, really, but this time he thinks he's the one who needs help because what do you mean? There's no way—

"I'm serious. Jaeyun-ah."

—Oh my fucking God. Jaeyun. Jaeyun. Who's Jaeyun? Who the fuck is Jaeyun?

Jake has a trouble hearing you over the loud roar of his blood, heart threatening to jump out of his throat. But he manages a small, airy, 'Hm?' when all eyes are on him.

You tilt your head slightly, eyes never letting go of his, holding him hostage in your gaze alone. This, paired with the way you call his government name—a name you prefer over Jake because 'it's cuter' (according to you, not him) when he first introduced himself to you four years ago, and Jake had let you because he could never say no to you—are the most perfect, never-before-seen formula to unravel the physics genius Sim Jaeyun.

Yeah. Jake is a goner. And will soon have a boner if no one stops you from picking him as today's sacrificial thighs.

"Can I sit with you, Jaeyunnie?"

Someone please say no. Someone please stop you. Someone please tell this Jaeyun to say no because—because why him? Is this some kind of a cliché ploy that popular girls do to play with men's feelings, especially a physics nerd like him? Because if it is, Jake hates to admit that he'd be a willing participant (even if it'd break his heart a little).

"Yes, sure," he squeaks, finally recognising that Jaeyun is his name. He's still trying to process that you chose him—not Sunghoon with his ridiculous broad shoulders, or Riki with his ridiculous long legs, or Heeseung with his ridiculous charm—but him, who's sweating buckets and dampening his armpits underneath his long-sleeved T-shirt. His glasses almost glide down his nose from how sticky it is.

"It's settled, then!" Sunoo claps once, already red and irritated from having to stand under the unforgiving sun for longer than necessary. "Jake hyung and Y/N will sit together. So I will be sitting with—"

"Me!"

"Me!"

Sunoo ignores Sunghoon and Riki, and walks straight to the rear seats. "With Heeseung hyung!"

Soon, there's shuffling and then everyone's already inside the car. Riki sits in the middle with a pout, a penalty for causing the minor disruption and losing rock-paper-scissors to Sunghoon and Jake. Sunghoon is happily humming to a song from the 80s, occassionally turning around to tease Sunoo who's been trying to join Heeseung in his mandatory road-trip nap. Jay and Jungwon have settled into their designated seats as the drivers of the day, already talking about the route they're taking and traffic condition. While Jake—well, he's preparing himself for the inevitable.

You're still standing by the door, overseeing the situation at hand, and Jake tries to ignore the way his cheeks burn under your weighted gaze.

"Can I sit now?" You softly ask. Jake hesitates a moment before nodding his head frantically.

"Y-Yes."

You, on the other hand, do not hesitate at all. Jake instinctively spreads his legs when you climb into the car, already aiming his lap as your throne for the next 120-minute of the ride. His senses heighten, overly aware of his friends' eyes watching his every move, and the soft scent of peach from your body wash that invades his nose when your weight finally settles on him.

In a split second, Jake goes from never daring to touch you to having you resting your ass comfortably on his clothed dick, thanks to a certain Japanese who's now queueing songs like he didn't just commit a fatal crime against his Aussie hyung.

His slightly longer thighs bracket your exposed ones in a hesitant cage, every point of your skin meeting his seems to burn through the fabric of his jeans. Your hair and neck are one breath away from his nose now, where he's inhaling lungfuls of peaches and creams and your vanilla-ish perfume, and Jake chooses to blink at the ceiling to avoid looking over your shoulders and possibly flashing himself with the swell of your chest under that thin camisole top. The already-cramped space feels even smaller, and Jake doesn't think he can breathe properly.

While at it, Jake hopes his prayers could break through the car roof and reach the heavens.

God, please have mercy on me and let my other head not have a brain of its own.

God answers him shortly in the form of you shifting around.

"You comfortable?" You ask innocently, adjusting yourself on his lap. Jake nearly inhales his tongue, feeling blood rush to his ears and south. A strangled noise escapes his throat instead.

"Mhm."

From the front, he can hear a snort coming from none other than Jay. "You sound constipated, dude."

'Try having a pretty girl sit on your dick then!', is what Jake wishes he could say to his friend, but he knows that this is more of a him-problem. Someone like Jay won't get flustered in this kind of situation—at least not as bad as he is, who doesn't even fucking know where to put his hands, hovering in the air like he's about to conduct a choral speaking.

So, Jake resorts to conveying his rage through the rearview mirror instead, hoping that his glare and frown are enough to make Jay feel bad. (They don't, Jay finds him cute instead).

Jungwon comes to save the day as he turns to the backseat. "Do you have everything with you?" All of them except Jake hum. He thinks he doesn't have his sanity anymore, but of course the younger boy pretends to ignore him.

Jungwon eyes each one of his friends, his gaze stopping longer at the sight of Jake gripping the leather seat, the white of his knuckles almost matching his face, and you smiling innocently at him. Jungwon badly wants to laugh.

Jake widens his eyes at Jungwon. Help me!

The younger boy gives him an indecipherable look before turning to face the front. "Alright. We're not turning back for you even if you forgot your PlayStation."

Jake wants to say that they might want to leave a certain Sim Jaeyun to save him from this misery, but all words are gone from his mind when the car starts forward with a sharp jolt. Your back meets his chest in a soft thud, punching air out of his lungs. Your ass pushes deeper into his lap and Jake nearly pierces the leather with his nails from how desperately hard he's gripping it.

"Oops, sorry!" Jay chimes from the driver seat, sounding far from sorry.

You straighten up and turn around, looking more sorry than your cousin. "You okay? Sorry about that, Jaeyunnie."

Oh, fuck. Please don't use that voice on him when he's one bump away from kissing your lips. You're so close it feels like you're breathing in the same air he exhales, so close he can see the faint, tiny freckles dusting your cheeks and the bridge of your nose.

"Yeah," he manages, voice hoarse like he's just swallowed a bucket of sand. "I'm okay."

There's a halt in your movement, like you're actually seeing him through the calm façade he's exuding. His breath catches when your eyes drop to his lips briefly, the bitten-red skin tingles under your heated gaze.

Then, after a moment, you smile at him so easily; as if the tension never existed, as if the pull was only one-sided.

"If you say so."

When he's met with your shiny hair again, Jake lets out a breath he unknowlingly held. Your voice fills up the space softly as you begin talking to Jungwon and Jay, all cheery and unrestrained while he's exerting mental training equivalent to physical labour of a building constructor to stop his dick from hardening every time you move.

He hears a snicker from his left and immediately meets with Riki's mischievous eyes. The younger boy mouths something that has Jake closing his eyes and leaning on the headrest in defeat.

'Don't get horny now, Jake hyung.'

Jake is worried that if it's not now, it'll be the next time Jay hits a bump.

Instead of a road bump, Jake's personal enemy turns out to be you.

Ten minutes in, everything is still going fine. Jake is still breathing, alive, and hasn't popped a boner that could traumatise you and get him banned from the car permanently. You also seem okay, still engrossed in a conversation with the cat-duo driving the car, talking about college and your winter trip to Japan.

For a moment, Jake selfishly thinks if his lap was that…sitable, seeing as you haven't shown any signs of discomfort yet. Or, to be fair, it has been barely ten minutes since they're en route, and though those minutes are enough to pull the others into a car nap, ten minutes feel like one round of orbit around the Sun when he has you sitting on his lap.

Jake can feel himself melt into the seat. Maybe this isn't so bad at all. Maybe he can make it to Sokcho without having to cut his dick off before anyone could see his hard-on. He just has to sit really quietly and will his mind to avoid teetering dangerous territory.

Yeap. Everything is fine.

Not until you decide to put your hands on his thighs.

Jake almost jolts at the contact, flexing his thighs instinctively when you place your perfectly manicured fingers on the surface of his jeans. It's a brief touch, one that can pass as accidental, but the lingering heat it leaves behind feels almost physical.

His eyes dart to the back of your head, trembling with nerves nearly frayed at the edges, gauging your reaction, and bites the bottom of his lips when you resume your conversation as if nothing happened. Or nothing really happened to you.

It's just a touch, for God's sake. Calm your dick down.

If a simple touch from you could unravel him this fast, what about other things? What if you hug him, or-or if you hold his hand, or—wait, is he wishing for other things to happen between you and him? (He does, but he knows that it won't happen.)

Jake gulps harshly and decides to enjoy the scenery instead. He stares hard out the window, so intense like he's memorising every species of the trees they pass by, mind lost in a whirlwind of horny thoughts clashing with rationality, when you do something again.

This time, it isn't an innocent touch on his thigh. It's an innocent move to hear Jungwon better. You lean forward, pushing your ass deeper into his lap simultaneously, offering your ear to Jungwon who seems to be sharing a secret about Jay. Jake's breath hitches and his hands almost come up to hold your waist, the friction sending heat through his body.

Fuck. He peels his eyes away from the window forcefully and follows down the dip of your spine to where your ass meets his crotch. Your position highlights the narrow of your waist and the width of your hips, all sinful curves that have him swallowing harder, something inside his pants threatening to stir alive. Jake closes his eyes.

Think of Jesus, Jake. Think of Layla. He absentmindedly fixes his glasses. Think of quantum physics. Think of—

"—Oh!" You squirm excitedly, round butt wiggling slightly against his cock. "Yes, I met her before!"

Jake hisses before he can stop himself, the sound serving like a knife cutting the conversation. You and Jungwon instantly turn to look at him, the latter wearing a mischievous expression when he sees the heat painting Jake's face red.

"Are you okay?" You prompt in concern, noticing how stiffly Jake is nodding at you.

"Y-Yeah. Good. I'm horgoony."

Freudian slip is gonna be the death of him.

Jay and Jungwon burst out laughing, catching the slip as fast as any dirty-minded man would. Jake's face turns a darker shade of red, avoiding your eyes whose brows now pinching in confusion.

"Horgoony?" You echo, pretty confident you have never heard of that strange word spoken before. Jake immediately shakes his head, panic creeping into his chest when Jungwon shows a sign of opening his mouth.

No! Do not let that orange cat speak! Jungwon only cares about his downfall!

"I feel horribly good! Yeah," Jake stammers, to hell with any logical reasoning. "Like, I feel good because we're on a road trip. But also kind of horrible because I get motion sickness sometimes."

Now that the string of the sentences has flowed out of his mouth, Jake thinks he is kind of making sense. Satisfaction blooms in his chest when you nod in understanding, because two conflicting emotions—feeling good and horrible—can exist simultaneously, right? Like the way he wants to push you from his lap and hide in the deepest part of the Sokcho forest forever but also craves to just grab your hips and pull you close and have his way with you—wait stop.

What a horrible, horny, nothing-good man you are, Sim Jaeyun.

"That does sound horrible." Jake snaps out of his thoughts when he registers your voice, nodding fervently to amplify the faux pity that he's just orchestrated.

You give him a sorry look, the one where it pulls the corners of your mouth down into a frown. Jake sighs in relief. You bought it. Thank God for his smart brain.

"Yeah. I think I'm just gonna take a nap," he adds, voice turning softer when you still look at him in concern. He feels a strange need to overexplain.

"Motion sickness happens because your eyes see one thing while your inner ears and muscles feel another. If I take a nap, it'll eliminate the visual stimuli that causes the conflict…" Jake trails off, catching himself before he could go on and on and on on why humans experience motion sickness, and possibly bore you to death. He shakes his head imperceptibly. "So—yeah. I should take a nap."

To his surprise, you only give him a warm smile. "I never knew that, Jaeyun. Then what's the correlation between motion sickness and playing your phone in a moving vehicle?"

Jake blinks behind his glasses, genuinely taken aback that you're actually listening instead of zoning out halfway through his rambling.

"Oh. Um." He clears his throat. "It's kind of the same concept. Your eyes are focused on something stationary—your phone—but your body still feels the movement of the car."

You hum softly, leaning back against him slightly, prompting him to continue. Jake immediately forgets how lungs work.

"S-So your brain gets confused because the signals don't match," he continues weakly. "Your eyes tell your brain you're sitting still, but your inner ears are like, 'No, we're moving.' It's like mixed signals, and our body doesn't like mixed signals."

His ears are warming up from how true the words are to the situation he's having with you.

"And right now you're seeing my stationary body while the car's moving," you continue with a subtle tilt of your mouth, "so you're nauseous and all dizzy now, right?"

Jake almost chokes to death. Did you know about his little problem? He blinks at you rapidly, hand itching to touch his glasses in a fit of nerves.

Oh my God. He's going to die. He's going to die and Jungwon will write 'Sim Jaeyun was a smart friend, died a horny man with a dick that never went down, a standing ovation to his contribution to Seoul National University' as his headstone epitaph. You know about it so Jake is going to die!

He stumbles with his own words. "I-I mean—It's actually—"

You give him a cheeky smile. "I'm just joking with you, Jaeyun. You're probably sick because you're having me on your lap like this."

You start digging into your front pocket, frowning when it's empty. Jake holds his breath when your hands move to your back pocket, looking for whatever it is that gets you so determined and his dick so excited whenever your finger brushes against his crotch. Jake is almost blue from not breathing.

He thinks this time he's really going to die.

"Found it!"

You offer your palm to him, where two mint candies sit idly on the soft surface. Jake's chest slowly feels lighter as air rushes in, no longer collapsing under the pressure of your searching hand accidentally brushing against him moments ago. He clears his throat.

You beam at him. "These will soothe your sickness, Jaeyunnie. Please take them."

Jake studies your face.

Do you know what you're doing to him? Was everything done on purpose, or are you really oblivious to everything?

He swallows and forces a nod, taking the candies from your palm, feeling a spark of electricity in his system when his fingers brush your skin.

"Thank you, Y/N."

You turn your back on him, resuming your conversation with Jungwon and Jay. All sweet and cotton candy, unaware of the turmoil he's going through. Jake stares at the candies in his hand, a mocking sign to his misery, and heaves out a quiet sigh. He glances at his wristwatch.

It feels like two world wars had happened but it's only been twenty minutes into the drive. An hour and forty minutes of horny torture remains for Sim Jaeyun to endure, and he's not sure if he's going to survive.

He slowly closes his eyes. Maybe sleep can help with horniness, too.

It does, but only for a moment, because Jake could swear he just blinked when you tap his shoulder a few times.

Jake blinks, half-groggy and half-alert. Did he have a wet dream of you and get hard in his unconsciousness? Is that why you woke him up?

But he's met with your apologetic face instead. "I'm sorry for waking you up," you whisper, trying not to wake other boys who are fast asleep. "But my back's sore. Can I lean on you for a moment?"

In a flash, all incoherent thoughts fly out the window. Guilt starts lodging in his chest as he realises—glancing at his watch—that you've been sitting straight for one hour. Before he knows it, Jake is already nodding at you, adjusting his seat to accommodate the new position.

"Y-Yes, you can."

God, he's such a loser. The word 'no' seems to disappear from his dictionary whenever you're around.

You reward him with an appreciative smile and waste no time to turn around and lean back softly on him. The moment your back touches his chest, Jake can feel his system kick start, a chemical reaction that he can never understand no matter how hard he studies Biology.

You physically relax into his chest. "This is so much better," you sigh, a dreamy smile on your face, resting your head in the crook of his neck. Then you tilt your head upwards to glance at him. "Is this okay for you?"

Jake hopes you can't feel how fast his heart is beating through the fabric of his shirt. The brown-haired boy nods wordlessly. "More than okay."

For a moment, you just stare at him, brilliant eyes holding his in a soft gaze. It's a silent minute full of everything unspoken, rendering him speechless and even more restless because no matter how smart he is, he could never decipher the meaning behind this look you're giving him. There's something you hide that he feels like he should know, like an open secret waiting for the right time for him to catch.

This time, Jake is even sure that you can hear his heartbeat.

Then, as if that moment never happened, you close your eyes and get comfortable.

"We should sleep, Jaeyun. Don't want you to get carsick again."

You nuzzle closer and Jake holds his breath, feeling the silky strands of your hair brushing against his jaw. His hands hover, not knowing where to land, though the pinch of your waist is where he wants to hold the most. Eventually, Jake settles on his thighs, watching the difference between his veiny hands and the smooth span of your thighs.

Is he still sleeping? Is he dreaming or are you really sleeping on his chest?

It seems that sitting in his lap really tired you out, because you're fast asleep in less than five minutes. The guilt in his chest amplifies at the sight of your closed eyes, breathing evening out as sleep overtakes your being. Jake bites his lips.

He's so shameless, napping to avoid getting turned on instead of caring for your being. He’s so horrible, worrying more about his hard-on than the fact that you’ve been uncomfortable for an hour. Jake wants to cry so bad.

Jake spends the rest of the ride watching you sleep. He fixes your hair when it falls over your face, tucking it behind your ear carefully, and then smiles to himself when he sees your pout. He blocks the sunlight with his hand when it's glaring on your skin through the window, not minding letting his hand redden from the harsh light. He instinctively holds your waist at a sharp turn, firm and secure, though he lets go just as fast as if it burns, afraid that it's not a touch you'd receive had you been conscious.

Other than the carnal desire he has suppressed for you, this road trip also makes him realise the depth of the feelings he actually harbours for you. He's so doomed. He's so doomed because in what universe would a hot, sweet, popular California girl like yourself, return back the feelings of a bland, studious, quiet Korean-Aussie boy like him?

In fictions. In another lifetime. But not in Sim Jaeyun's current universe right now.

However, the Sim Jaeyun in this universe also will never know peace.

Because just as he's getting comfortable with the you-watching routine that he just recently discovered, the road has another plan for him when Jay finally, and actually, hits a bump this time.

The first bump is a mild surprise. Jake gathers it's a small bump, one that Jay overlooks while getting excited over Bon Jovi playing on the rodeo. But the aftermath brings you settling deeper into him, pressing on him in a way that has his breath hitching. Jake holds your waist on instinct.

"Oh my God, I didn't see that," Jay mutters from the front.

Jake tries to steady his breath. That's…a shock. One that shatters the soft atmosphere he created while watching you, now replaced with the same tension he's been fighting the last hour.

Jake lets go of your waist when he assumes that it's just a one-time thing. But then the bump happens again, and instead of a solid, big one—it's shaky, like they're sliding through endless, tiny jagged rocks.

"Damn bro, this road needs fixing," Jay makes another commentary. He glances at the rearview mirror. "You good, Jake?"

Jake doesn't know what to answer. "I think I am," he mumbles, voice clipped.

Is it good that you're practically bouncing in his lap, adding more pressure with almost no interval for him to recover mentally? He thinks not. But Jay doesn't have to know that.

"We're almost there," Jungwon chimes in, navigating the map. There's a shakiness in his voice that comes from the vibration caused by the bumps. "Fifteen minutes at most. We found a shorter route just now and traffic was smooth."

Fifteen minutes.

Jake thinks he might actually die in fifteen minutes.

Another bump sends your body rocking against him softly, your sleeping face scrunching for a brief second before relaxing. His grip tightens.

Fuck.

If Jay doesn't stop the car and fix this damn road himself then he's definitely going to pop a boner soon.

Jake squeezes his eyes shut when another bump rattles through the car, and then again, and again, and again until Jake can barely separate one sensation from another anymore. Until he doesn't know where he starts and where you end anymore. You shift unconsciously, settling heavier against his chest before Jay hits another bump.

This time, Jake makes a mistake of looking down at you.

He didn't notice it before, too lost in his sappy, romantic feelings for you. But right now, it's actually so damn obvious that the angle from where he sits taller than you and you lean against him, he can easily see your cleavage past the neckline of your camisole.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

The road doesn't stop shaking beneath the tires, and so does his pulse as he watches your breasts bounce with every bump that comes their way. Jake averts his eyes, so stiff and so strained, but can't help letting his gaze drift back to watch the soft mounds shake.

This is bad. This is very, very bad, and Jake is nothing but a bad fucking pervert.

A particularly rough patch of road sends the entire car jolting. Your body bounces against him harder this time, more pressure and more friction that Jake almost whimpers. He tips his head back, gulping harshly as the line of his long neck glistens with a sheen of sweat.

Inside his jeans, he can feel his cock kick.

Oh, fuck—he's definitely hard now.

Oh my fucking God.

"This is the last one, promise!"

Jake doesn't even register Jay's words, or the way your head hits his jaw from impact, because his internal system is flooded with horny-filled panic. He can feel it: his dick twitching and getting semi-hard from the continuous stimulation from your bouncing. He doesn't even realise that he's now clawing at his own thighs, seeking strength that could neutralise his blooming lust, or that you are finally awake.

"Are we almost there?" You ask groggily, blissfully unaware of the raging boner forming under your ass. You sit up when the coastal view greets your blurry vision, mouth gaping in awe.

"Oh, wow!" You gasp, always excited to visit Sokcho no matter how many times you've been there. "It's beautiful as always!"

The road is smooth now, but Jake's final torture arrives in the form of you bouncing, excitedly and consciously, in his lap. You wiggle in enthusiasm, urging Jungwon to pass your phone that's been charging at the front to take some pictures and send it to the family groupchat.

"Jungwon, Jaeyun, look at those seagulls!"

Jake is seeing no seagulls. He's only seeing white hot, painful pleasure as you move in his lap, his brain dissolving into useless static. His fingers twitch, itching to grab your waist and force you to stay still, but you're so excited that he almost didn't have the heart to do it.

"Did you see that?" You lean to the window, and then shift happily when you spot kites in the sky. "We should do that too! Hey, Jay, do you think you can—"

Jake finally has had enough.

The restraint that he's been holding onto finally breaks like a taut wire getting cut. His hands snap to your waist, pulling you flush against his chest, hips almost bucking up from the delicious friction alone. His lips drop to the shell of your ears, hot, ragged breath brushing the sensitive skin as his voice lowers an octave.

"Y/N," Jake licks his dry lips, the tip of his tongue peeking through. He watches with dark eyes as the hair on your neck stands straight under his unforgiving proximity.

"Stop fucking moving."

And that's the moment you feel it.

A bulge, hard and rigid and big, poking your ass from where you rest in his lap.

Oh my fucking God.

Sim Jaeyun is hard.

You freeze, breath hitching.

Neither of you dare to move. Not even your excitement of being back to your uncle's beach house, or Jay's questioning look from where you cut your sentence, can bring you to move. No.

You couldn't, not when Jake's hard dick is nudging at you right now, so tangible and unmistakably his.

The brown-haired boy is still panting in your ear, shooting tingles through your system. His grip on your waist is almost bruising, like he's trying very, very hard to hold back from overstepping lines that shouldn't be overstepped.

You hadn't meant for this to happen. Sure, Jake is fun to tease. That boy is all broken words and nervous glances whenever you're in his proximity, and it can't be helped when he blushes prettily too.

You just can't stop yourself from seeking his attention in your own way, because aside from being a pretty boy, Jake is also such a sweetheart and so, so smart. And in an age where intellligence is a scarcity, you absolutely adore smart guys.

Especially the one who isn't condescending and is actually eager to help people like him.

So, really—you hadn't meant for this to happen. Offering to become the one without a seat is a decision you made when you consider yourself to be lighter than most of the guys, but offering to sit in Jake's lap is definitely a decision born from personal bias. You kind of knew what it would cause—seeing how stiff and awkward Jake had been—but you let it go halfway through when the soreness in your back outweighs your desire to tease.

Which has now brought you to this situation.

The car's still moving like nothing happened, and the boys are slowly stirring to life one by one. Everything is normal, except for the nails digging into your waist and the deep timbre in your ear.

You swallow harshly, not daring to move. Jake is so close, so close that you can feel every movement of his chest. You sit still in his hold, trying not to wince from how hard he's gripping your hips, and how hot you find the situation is.

His dick, despite no movement is being made, only hardens further. Jake gasps almost imperceptibly, almost matching the way your breath leaves your mouth when you notice, again, just how big he is.

Fuck. Fuck, that's so hot. Sim Jaeyun is so hot and you can feel yourself slowly getting turned on.

Without any warning, as if driven by an invisible force that urges to look at him, you finally turn around.

And Jake looks absolutely wrecked.

Beads of sweat dot on his forehead, the furrow of his eyebrows showing restraint and constraint. His lips are red from how hard he's biting them, and his previously clean, smooth glasses are now fogged up and hazy. His eyes, glazed over with tamed lust, lock into yours, half-lidded and dark.

A breath catches in your throat.

This is not the Jaeyun you know.

Or, more accurately, this is not the Jaeyun he usually shows.

This is another side of him, like seeing Jake wearing short-sleeves and showing his arms for the first time. Gone are his round, puppy eyes, now replaced with this narrowed, slit gaze that makes you shiver under his heated stare. He used to be so nervous around you, and you can feel that he's nervous now, too, but his pent-up sexual frustration seems to outweigh any rational daily-Jake thoughts.

This is still Sim Jaeyun. Just a different, never-before-seen side of Sim Jaeyun.

"Are we finally there?" Riki, the last one to awaken, stretches beside the two of you. You don't even notice that the car has pulled up into the driveway of Jay's ridiculously huge beach house from how piercing Jake's gaze is holding your eyes captive now.

Jake bites his lips, the fog in his head slowly clearing up now that the car has stopped. As if snapping out of a daze, he quickly maneuvers you into Riki's lap instead, showcasing his strength that he often hides. The latter yelps at the sudden weight and grabs your waist on instinct, before Jake darts out of the car without looking back.

"Sim Jaeyun! Bring your own fucking luggage!" Jay shouts from the car boot, but the brown-haired boy has already disappeared behind the door.

You sit, stunned in silence, still frozen and unable to speak. Not until Riki nudges at you, Heeseung and Sunoo impatiently asking the both of you to move so that they can get out.

"Are you okay, noona? Is hyung okay?"

You nod. You give the youngest a strained smile as you slowly move out of his lap and out of the car, careful not to start another war of hormones.

"We're okay."

The lie tastes bitter on your tongue.

Jake is avoiding you.

It's a foreseeable aftermath. It's inevitable. But it pains you regardless.

It gets to the point where he straight up refuses sitting next to you at dinner, which raises some eyebrows and teasing from the boys. But you know better.

He is deliberately avoiding you.

It frustrates you, really. Because every summer, it is your thing with Jake to sit in silence in the morning and read at the porch, enjoying the sunrise over wordless, comfortable silence. But now he purposely sleeps in, waking up later than usual, leaving you alone in the cold of dawn, your paperback copy of The Inheritance Games left untouched on your thighs.

At movie nights, he'll be the last one to join, just to see where you sit first to avoid being near you. He'll become extra quiet when you speak, acting like the floor is more interesting than your face, not even sparing you a glance.

And your patience is wearing thin. Almost thinner than the bikini you're wearing right now.

Fine. He can ignore you all he wants, act like he didn't just pop a boner after letting you sit in his lap. He can pretend like you never affected him, pretend like nothing happened, but one thing you know is that Jake could never betray his attraction for you.

So, be fucking it. You don't care if it's petty to pick the skimpiest bikini you own today, the one in hot pink that always contours the line of your cleavage, perfectly bunching up your tits and making them look rounder. The one that you know will drive Jake crazy from how bouncy your ass looks, basically confirmed when his eyes can't seem to stop trailing after you even after you dive into the pool.

You come to the surface with a gaping mouth, letting the water slide down the lines on your body, and make no show of hiding yourself from looking straight at Jake.

That coward has the nerves to look away after staring at you like a touch-deprived teenager.

"Is Sim Jaeyun single?"

The reason why you always agree to join the all-boys road trip is because it's not exactly all-boys. There are girls who live nearby. Girls you're acquainted with from how often you follow your cousin to his beach house every summer. Spoiled rich girls whose parents come from the same tax bracket as your and Jay's family.

And one of those girls is shamelessly checking Jake out now, hungry eyes drinking in the way his wet, long-sleeved shirt sticks to his torso, outlining the faint lines of his abdomen that he never shows. She's sitting on the edge of the pool, feet-dipping while you take a break from your swim.

You narrow your eyes, an ugly spark of jealousy blooming in your chest. You don't like the implication of the question, and you absolutely hate the way she's looking at him now.

"Don't even think about it."

Your neighbour only shrugs and continues her eye-fucking. "He's so my type. So nerdy, so smart. I wonder how he'll look like without the glasses?"

You will poke her eyes before she gets the chance to. "Use your own imagination," you hiss, almost bitter when you realise that you also have barely seen him without his glasses.

Jake has sensitive eyes that react badly to contact lenses, which explains his preference for thick glasses than going out without them. Even now, when everyone is fooling around Jay's enormous pool, his thick, black-rimmed glasses perch on the bridge of his tall nose—the nose you hope you can put into good use one day.

The girl only hums, half-listening to you. She sighs dreamily. "I can't believe that I have his number."

At this point, the jealousy has turned so ugly you're actually seeing green. Or red. Or whatever that Cortis song sounds like. "You have his number?"

She finally pays attention to you. "Yeap! I asked him yesterday. I don't know what I should say to start the conversation though," she pouts, glancing back at Jake who's now sitting on the side with Sunghoon, sipping on coconut water. "Should I ask him if I can join dinner at your house tonight?"

Jake gave his number to her?

You grit your teeth. The hurt has materialised into a knife, twisting in your chest in a sharp pain disguised in jealousy. So, while Jake's been avoiding you like a fucking plague, he's been spending his time giving away his number to any curious girl? He's been talking with other girls while leaving you with radio silence, one that you didn't deserve because it was him who popped that boner?!

You are the one who's supposed to ignore him—not the other way around!

What a fucking loser.

You can't stop the bitterness from leaking through your voice when you finally speak.

"It's me and Jay that you should ask—not Sim Jaeyun. And no, you cannot join dinner at my house tonight."

You leave her dumbfounded by the pool, seething in anger that the water on your skin could steam from the heat alone. You march to the slide doors, giving Jake and Sunghoon the nastiest side-eye you could ever give when the latter calls out to you, and slam the door behind.

Whatever. Or not whatever. Sim Jaeyun is a fucking pervert and a jerk and a coward, and stupidly hot while being so oblivious to how hot he actually is. Whatever! You don't care.

You don't care that he barely speaks a word to you. You don't care that he leaves any room you walk into. You don't care that he's flirting with other girls and giving away his number willingly when you had his on default for being Jay's younger cousin, and from Jay himself at that.

The corner of your eyes burn.

You wish you didn't care.

You're ignoring Jake.

Jake knows this the moment you no longer come to the porch to read. Instead, every morning is now spent in the garden with Jungwon, tending to Jay's mom's flowers. After, you'll brew some hibiscus tea that you pluck from the garden and share it with Sunoo and Riki.

And when he walks into the kitchen to get some food, you no longer meet his eyes, or save that apple that he knows you know he likes to eat for breakfast. You let Heeseung eat all of them! It's so—so unfair, because he likes apples and you know it!

It sends Jake to the end of a cliff. Why are you suddenly being like this?

His sanity is stretching thin as he tries to work his brain. Why the sudden change? Is it because of his silence? But he's just embarrassed to face you! Or—did you find out about it?

Genuine horror floods his mind when he thinks, oh no, you must've realised how disgusting he truly is. How dirty-minded and perverted he is, that every day he has to take cold showers three times a day whenever he catches a glimpse of you.

You in your sleepwear. You in your casual shirt. You in shorts.

You in bikini.

Jake has fallen out of any point of salvation, because God, could any man get this horny just from a mere look? In the back of his mind, he knows it's the image of you sitting in his lap that ignited the beginning of his undoing, but the continuous hard-on he gets whenever he's around you is definitely, entirely on him.

And Jake, oh so sweet Jake, doesn't dare touch himself to the thought of you. No. He'd rather leave his balls blue, take cold showers every morning, every evening, and every night, and let his dick go from standing tall like a national anthem was being played to becoming flaccid under the cold water without any action. He doesn't even have the guts to touch his own fucking dick, the guilt blocking him from doing anything to relieve himself.

So—did you find out about it? Because if you did, then Jake could understand the cold shoulders you're giving him.

But Jake is a mere man—maybe a bit perverted, and a bit too horny despite his image, so he couldn't stop himself from getting hard the moment he sees you walking into the living room in nothing but an oversized white tee that falls off your shoulder. He grabs the nearest cushion and places it on top of his crotch, blood already rushing south when he sees the strap of your black bra.

This is why he has to go to church sometimes; to balance everything out. Because Einstein never talked about the solution or formula to cure men's (Jake's) sexual desires that seem endless. And sexual desires that come from seeing a strap of a bra alone.

Whatever it is, Jake's soul has almost left his body, already tuning out of his surroundings. He doesn't even realise that Jay and Riki are wrestling for the TV remote, and accidentally sending said remote flying onto the floor just a few feet away from him.

He only comes to when you stand in front of him, back facing him, and bend over to pick up the remote.

You. Bend. Over. In. Front. Of. Him.

In a second, Jake has a full view of your ass. The shirt rides up slightly, revealing white shorts that stretches across the round flesh as you bend over to reach the remote and Jake feels like he's brought back to the car when he was fighting demons as you unintentionally ground his crotch with every movement.

His grip on the cushion tightens, head dizzy from the way you practically shove your butt in his face.

Jake releases a shaky exhale.

He can see the outline of your panties and wonders if it matches your black bra.

And he can see the outline of his doomed future if he stays in the living room any longer.

"Whose turn is it to pick the movie?" You casually ask, now straightening up as if you just didn't flash Jake with your perky ass.

"Jake hyung," Jungwon replies from the center of the long couch, carding his hand through Sunoo's silky hair, the blonde who's now laying down his head on his lap. "It's his turn."

Your face remains expressionless as you turn to the glasses boy. But instead of taking the remote from your hand, Jake stands up, avoiding eye contact and clutching the cushion tight over his crotch.

"I-I suddenly feel sick! Gonna skip tonight's movie, bye!"

Then he flees the living room, leaving behind six confused men and one very angry, very upset girl.

Jake thinks he deserves a medal for surviving the living room.

Or perhaps an exorcism.

The moment his bedroom door clicks shut behind him, Jake drops the cushion onto the floor and drags both hands down his face with a groan. His glasses nearly fall off his nose in the process.

What the fuck is wrong with him?

He paces once across the room, then twice.

Outside, he can still hear the muffled sounds of the movie downstairs—Riki yelling dramatically at a character, Sunoo complaining about spoilers, Jay laughing too loudly. Normal sounds. Normal people.

Meanwhile Jake feels like he's one accidental glimpse of your shoulder away from committing a crime.

His eyes squeeze shut.

That white shirt.

The black bra strap.

The way you bent over in front of him so casually, completely unaware that Jake nearly ascended right there on Jay's living room couch.

"Fuck," he whispers weakly to himself.

Jake drops onto the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees.

Maybe he should take another cold shower. That would make four today.

"I should sleep," he mutters to himself, breath shaky. "S-Sleep can help with motion sickness and horniness."

With a newfound resolution, he turns off the lamp and settles under the blanket. His movement is stiff and awkward, overly aware of the tent straining his shorts. Once he pulls the blanket over his chest, Jake closes his eyes, forcing sleep into his system.

Only, the image of you swimming in your hot pink bikini flashes behind his eyelids.

"No, stop. Not that," he whispers, brows scrunching in protest. He shakes his head, as if physically removing the image away, and tries again.

This time, the image of you in his lap comes back, stripped down to heated skin and soft breaths, your body moving against his in ways that make his stomach twist.

His eyes fly open. The image is so clear and vivid, thanks to his photographic memory and insane imagination—the very thing that's been saving him in the academic department now serving as the tool that brings him to his downfall.

His cock twitches involuntarily.

"N-No," he pants, chest moving rapidly. He grips the edge of the blanket, knuckles turning white. "I—Stop—"

Then he remembers just now: you bent over, giving him a delicious access to his ass-shaped sufferings, and Jake almost whimpers from the flashback alone.

The room rises in temperature, the air conditioner doing nothing to tone down the feverish lust spreading through his body. Jake finally relents and discards the blanket, glasses all fogged up as he stares at the bulge under his shorts.

"I'm sorry," he whimpers, slipping off his shorts and boxers until they bunch up around his knees. "I'm so fucking sorry."

His cock springs free, standing tall in the dimness of his room. The tip glistens, already drooling with precum that shows no sign of stopping. With shaky hands, hesitance still edging around his lust, Jake finaly touches himself.

He has to bite down hard on his lips to muffle the sound threatening to escape. His hand stutters, the feeling of finally rubbing some relief after days of holding back comes crashing down on him. His head spins from how heavy his cock is in his hold, veins protuding like they're going to combust.

He slowly starts moving his hand, lathering up precum to ease the glide. His head tips back, a strangled sound catches behind his throat.

"Oh, God," his head spins, sparks of lust bursting at the tip of his fingers. "Oh, fuck—"

Through his hazy gaze of the blurry lenses, Jake tightens his grip slightly. A moan escapes his lips at the force, his cock only getting heavier in his hand. He plays with the mushroom tip of his dick, thumbing the slit and hissing when it sends pleasure up his spine.

"Ngh—" his eyes squeeze shut, brain putting up pieces of his memory of you. His body jerks when the rough pad of his thumb touches the underside of his cock, and as if on cue, the image of your jiggly breasts inside the car flashes behind his closed eyes.

"Fuck—Y/N," Jake sobs, picking up his pace. His wrist turns and flicks, biceps flexing hard at the speed he's going. Guilt starts accumulating inside his chest the more he thinks of you, of your voice, of your gaze, of your scent—but guilt isn't enough to stop Jake from chasing his own release.

"'So sorry," he chokes, letting go of his bottom lip, bitten-red and swollen. He imagines it was your hand instead of his, smaller and softer, with those manicured nails that he loves so much. How tiny your hand would look around his hard dick, trying to grip his length in its fully erect state.

Jake isn't inexpereinced. He's had his own fair share of sexcapades with a few people, and he's always been told that he's bigger than average. The big dick that he hides under his pants, further concealed by his nervous persona that only certain girls find cute.

But seeing his state right now, Jake thinks he's the furthest thing from cute.

He's pathetic.

Pathetic and gross and disgusting, feeling bad for jerking off to the thoughts of you but still unable to retract his hand and stop. The sound of his cries that he fails to hide fills up the space, and for the first time in days he's very glad that he won paper-rock-scissors during room assignment.

"Oh, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N," he chants, mouth gaping open when he can feel himself close. His wrist is already tired and numb from the relentless pace he's set, the slick sound of his sinful act matching the roar of his blood rushing in his ears.

"Please, please, 'm gonna cum," he sobs, tears prickling at the corner of his eyes. His hips lift off the mattress. "Please—"

"Do not fucking cum, Sim Jaeyun."

Jake's entire body locks up.

His wrist stills immediately, pleasure crashing into horror so fast it makes his stomach twist. For a second, he genuinely thinks his heart stops beating.

The room goes dead silent except for his ragged breathing.

Through fogged-up lenses and teary eyes, Jake stares at you standing by the door, unable to process the fact that you're actually here.

That you heard him.

That you saw him.

Oh my fucking God.

His hand jerks away from himself like he’s been burned, chest heaving violently as he scrambles to sit up straighter. The blanket tangles around his legs from how abruptly he moves.

"I—"

Nothing comes out.

Jake has never felt this level of humiliation before.

Not when he failed his chemistry olympiad in tenth grade. Not when he tripped in front of his entire lecture hall. Not even when Jungwon found his hidden Pokémon card collection at nineteen.

This is worse. So much worse.

Because it's you.

You, standing there in that oversized white shirt slipping off your shoulder again, eyes dark and unreadable as you look at him sprawled across the bed like something shameful.

Jake feels sick. His face burns so hot he thinks he might actually pass out.

"S-Sorry," he chokes out instinctively, because apologising is the only thing his brain knows how to do right now. "I didn't—I wasn't—I—"

His voice cracks miserably.

Jake is going to cry.

What should he even say in this situation? Sorry that you caught him jerking off to you? Sorry that he's such a nerd, such a loser that the only time he could talk smoothly with you was when he was defining what motion sickness was, but never had the courage to tell you how much he likes you and how much you affect me? Sorry that he's such a pervert that he thinks of you in positions way too inappropriate to be just friends?

The weight of his arousal sits heavy against his thigh, a testament to a newfound, lifelong embarrassment that he'll carry to his grave.

Jake squirms under your heated gaze, and quickly covers his crotch with his blanket when you slip into his bedroom wordlessly. The door clicks shut, the sound amplified by the heavy silence hanging in the air. His body tenses up.

Oh my God—he messed up, didn't he? Jake hangs his head low in shame, tears gathering along his lashlines.

"I'm sorry—I didn't mean to…"

His vision turns blurry. Fuck, you must hate him now.

"I-It's wrong—I know that—I'm sorry—ah!"

Jake looks up in surprise when your bold hand cups his erection. There's angry lines in your forehead, a sneer on your mouth, but the nasty look you're giving him does nothing to soothe down his arousal.

If anything, twisted as it is—it turns him on even more.

"Couldn't even look me in the eye downstairs," you begin, "but you here you are, jerking off to me like I wouldn't find out?"

The venom in your voice hurts him. You're being mean with your words, and it hurts his feelings but Jake couldn't care less. His mind is a messy jumbles of guilt and pleasure and shame, so all he does is cry and shake his head.

"I-I'm sorry, Y/N—"

"Are you really sorry?" you tighten your grip on his cock, one knee dipping into the mattress. "Your dick doesn't seem sorry though."

Jake wants to cry—oh, he's already crying. His hand curls into the sheets beneath him, unable to form coherent words when you start rocking the heel of your palm on his hard-on. The friction from the blanket and the pressure from your hand only spark electric pleasure through his system.

Within seconds, Jake is all hard again—even harder than before.

"Tell me, Jaeyunnie. Did all of this happen because I sat in your lap?"

Jake whimpers pathetically. You knew. Of course you knew. You're not only hot and pretty and kind, you're also smart like him, so in tune with your surroundings. You're a little mean right now, but it's okay because Jake believes that he deserves this after avoiding you without any explanation.

"Answer me, Sim Jaeyun."

"Yes," he croaks, shame burning his face red. His eyes screw shut. The admission sets his being on fire, skin flushed from embarrassment. "O-Oh, God, y-yes."

He cracks one eye open when you don't reply. Instead, he's met with your fiery gaze. The edges have softened with lust, like you're also affected by this, but you're good at keeping your control.

Unlike him, who's unraveling like a loose thread under your touch alone.

Jake almost whines when you retract your hand, but the sound is muffled with a gasp when you yank the blanket open. He instinctively closes his crotch area with his hands, but you're fast to slap his wrists away.

"I'm so pissed off, Jaeyun," you mutter, swinging your leg over his thighs so now you're straddling him. You fix him with your sharp eyes, hand finding his dick again.

"You've been acting like we're strangers and it hurts me so bad."

Jake's mouth hangs open as you gather his precum and start working your wrist around his cock. His brain barely registers your words, too lost in a cloud of lust, but when he finally processes it, he desperately shakes his head.

He wants to apologise again and again and again, because he is truly sorry—he didn't know how affected you were. How could he not, when you're always described as everything out of his league, but he's always described as everything that doesn't fit your type?

"I'm sorry, I was just—fuck—just ashamed—" he gasps, hips bucking into your touch. "Didn't mean to—t-to hurt y—ngh, Y/N, faster please."

You coo at him, feigning sympathy as you set a ruthless pace on his cock. Jake is big—something that isn't a surprise anymore since that day you sat in his lap—but the sheer size of him is enough to make your mouth water and your panties damp.

Damn these nerdy boys. Acting all shy and innocent when they have this monstrousity hiding behind those ugly glasses.

"Faster? You wanna cum, Jaeyunnie?" you tilt your head. Jake nods frantically. "I don't think you deserve it, though. Why not ask from those girls you gave your number to?"

Something sharp twists in his stomach. Jake's eyes fly open, almost cowering when you give him a distasteful look. He grabs your arms desperately and shakes his head.

"N-No! She asked me first—" you put more pressure and Jake damn near loses his mind. "—said she needs—help—w-with Physi—cs—"

You roll your eyes. It's that easy to fool him? Can't he see the way those girls fuck him with their eyes? Without waiting for his sentence to finish, you sink down and take him in your mouth.

"Oh, fuck!" Jake screams, accidentally thrusting up his hips. He bites his lips, glasses crooked on the bridge of his nose as you take him deeper, tracing the line of his veins with your sinful tongue. "Oh, Y/N—please."

You hum around his length, tongue swirling as you hollow your cheeks to deepen the suction. Jake nearly busts from that alone, mind melting into a puddle of your name, the wet heat of your mouth serving as a better pleasure than his own hand.

You start bobbing your head up and down, marveling in the way the weight of his dick sits on your tongue. He's so big that you're so close to choking, but you don't care. You need to remind Jake how stupid he's been acting and how stupid he is if he thinks that you were not just as attracted toward him.

Jake sobs into his hands, hips jerking with every touch of his tip hitting the back of your throat. His head is getting dizzier, he can feel the coil in his stomach getting tighter and he knows that anytime soon, he will come undone on your skillful tongue.

But just as he's about to reach that high, you let go of him with a pop.

"No!" Jake whines, tears sliding down his cheeks. You're so mean. "P-Please let me cum."

"Not yet, nerdy boy." You mutter, red lips slick with saliva and precum. Jake can only sob, dick throbbing in need and desperation.

This is the punishment he deserves for being a jerk. He knows that, but he can't seem to stop crying. God, he's so pathetic.

Then he feels movement on his thighs. He blinks through the foggy lenses and lets out a breathless moan when you lift up your shirt and shorts and discard them away, leaving you in nothing but a pair of bra and panties. His mouth starts salivating at the display of your beautiful body, and Jake swears he almost cums when he sees that you're indeed wearing black panties.

Oh, fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. Just as he imagined—God, you're so perfect he wants to kiss you.

But instead of a kiss, you push his at his chest instead. "Lie down."

And like the obedient puppy that he is, Jake follows your word, carefully descending his back onto the mattress. He's still sniffling from the previous denial, but now it's mixed with anticipation of what's to come when you hover above him.

You trace a gentle finger along the tall bridge of his nose, a barely-there touch that makes him shiver. With a slow tap on the tip of his nose, you finally speak.

"Did anyone ever ride your nose, Jaeyunnie?"

H-His nose?

Girls always compliment his nose, but he's never given it many thoughts as to why they did that. "N-No. Never."

There's a wicked smile on your face as you stand on your knees. Jake watches with a mouth gaping open as you make a show of shimmying down your panties, painfully and traitorously slowly that he almost rips it with his hand.

"Ah, what a shame," you sigh dreamily. "Guess I have to be the first one then."

Once your panties are out of the picture, Jake is instanly hit with a wave of your arousal. Your pussy glistens under the moonlight, soaked with slick and dripping with need. Jake inhales shakily, stopping himself from darting out his tongue to get a taste.

Fuck. He's sure he has actually died in the car and this is heaven because not even in his wildest dream did he get to have you like this.

Too lost in his reverie, Jake belatedly notices that you have removed his glasses. Despite your mean words and your mean actions, the caresses of your thumb on his cheeks are so gentle that he thinks he's hallucinating.

"You're so handsome, Jaeyun," you murmur. "But I bet you'll look better buried between my thighs."

You give him no time to recover from your crude words when you slowly move to straddle his head. Then, with a hand in his hair, you descend, letting the tip of his nose nudge at your clit.

And oh my fucking God—you smell so divine.

"Ah, Jaeyunnie," you moan, rocking your hips slowly to test the waters. "Your nose feels so good."

You sound even more divine. Jake's eyes roll to the back, savouring the way your sinful moans fall on his ears as you use his nose to get off. The bridge of his nose slides through your folds—wet and sticky and so sweet that he can't get enough of it.

Jake wraps his arms around your thighs to give you support, and another moan escapes your lips upon seeing his veiny arms around your supple skin. He stares at you through half-lidded eyes, groaning despite your cunt suffocating him, the vibration sending jolts of pleasure to your system.

"Ngh—Jaeyun—"

He can't breathe, and he can't hear properly from how hard you're clamping his head with your legs, but he can't deny that this is the best way to die. Being suffocated by your leaking pussy sounds like a dream death compared to dying in Jay's old SUV.

You keep your rhythm, rocking your hips back and forth, grinding your clit on his nose and dragging your folds on the tall bridge until the sharp tip of his nose catches at your hole. The grip you have in his hair hurts his scalp, but everything is worth the pain when Jake can watch you fall apart on his face, his own cock pulsing with a trembling need to cum.

"Ah—ah—Jaeyun oppa—"

Fuck. Fuck that sacred nickname.

The dynamics between you two often makes Jake forget the fact that he is indeed older than you. Coming from the States, it's uncommon for you to address people with such honorifics.

But right now, using that very honorific against him ignites something inside him; a carnal desire that's been thrumming low in his guts, waiting to be unleashed.

This time, Jake barely stops himself from stealing a taste. He darts out his tongue, prodding your hole with the tip, and hums in satisfaction when your stance falters slightly.

"Don't," you hiss, but there's no heat in it. Jake takes it as a sign to continue, licking more into your weeping cunt until your pace turns sloppy.

He doesn't care. You're probably gonna be so mad at him and punish him more, but whatever it is you have prepared can wait. Right now, Jake is having the best pussy of his life—barely breathing but still eating so, so fucking well.

"Jaeyun—stop—"

"No," Jake protests when you try to get up, pulling you down until the full weight of your body rests on his face.

Oh God, choking on pussy has never felt so good.

"Sim Jaeyun!" You squirm, feeling the stirring inside your belly getting wilder. Despite your weak attempts, your hips keeps grinding on his nose, showing no signs of stopping. You throw your head back.

You knew his nose would be the best thing to ride on, but hearing the slurps of your slick and his saliva—the sinful noises of him feasting on your cunt—makes you almost regret not letting him eat you out first.

"Ngh—Jaeyun—I'm close—"

Jake pulls your hips harder, letting you grind your clit on the tip of his nose as his tongue pushes into your hole mercilessly. You let out a high-pitched scream, muscles pulling tight at his ministrations. The double stimulations are fast pushing you over the edge.

Soon, white hot pleasure crashes into you, your vision turning black momentarily. It's so blurry and messy that you haven't realised that you've been screaming his name raw, hips unrelenting to chase the high. Jake swallows every drop of your sweet nectar, moaning into your spasming hole as he licks it clean.

Fuck. He's already desperate to have another round.

When you come down from your orgasm, hair matted to your forehead, you look down at him furiously.

"Let me go! I told you not to do it!" You attempt to sit up, but Jake doesn't let go, shaking his head with a pout. His nose and chin are drenched with your release, it's so sinful and filthy and you can't lie that you like seeing him so wrecked and fucked over like this.

"Can I have more? Please," he begs, kissing your inner thigh unhurriedly. He's already so addicted to the taste of you, Jake thinks he's gonna die if he doesn't have another fill. "I'll be so good to you, Y/N. Wanna eat you out so bad."

You grit your teeth, pushing away the temptation to save your pride. "No. Get up, Jaeyun."

But Jake is stubborn. He's so desperate to have more of you that he doesn't mind if he's leaving his own cock neglected and balls blue. "Please, I need it bad," he nudges at your pussy with his finger, pupils blown wide at the strings of sticky cum decorating your folds. "Fuck, please, Y/N, I want to eat you out."

"I said get up, Jaeyun."

"Y/N—"

"Jake."

The sharpness in your voice cuts through the haze instantly.

Jake stills immediately.

The desperation in his eyes flickers into something softer, more uncertain, like a scolded puppy finally realising he’s crossed a line. His grip on your thighs loosens at once, chest rising and falling hard beneath you.

The sound of his English name on your tongue feels foreign and almost painful, because it lacks the usual warmth and intimacy that your 'Jaeyun' usually holds. Yet, something inside him pulses harder, liking the change more than he'd like to admit.

“S-Sorry,” he whispers automatically, voice rough. “I just…”

He doesn’t even know how to explain it. How could he? That hearing you moan his name made him lose every coherent thought in his brain? That he’s spent days trying to stay away from you only to end up here, beneath you, completely ruined anyway?

You study him for a long moment before finally shifting off his face.

“Sit up.”

Jake obeys instantly.

The movement is clumsy and needy. His hair is a mess, lips swollen, face still flushed from lack of oxygen and desire. Without his glasses, his eyes look unbearably open like this—too honest, too vulnerable.

You cup his jaw gently, the touch losing its cruelty. Jake melts into it.

"There he is," you murmur softly, fixing his bangs that are obscuring his eyesight.

Jake can feel his heart stutter traitorously. This version of you—tender and sweet—a glimpse of the usual-you, is always more dangerous than any teasing.

Wordlessly, you tug at his shirt, and Jake obediently holds up his arms to let you peel away the fabric. Your eyes flick downward, amusement tugging at your lips.

"You know," you start, fingers trailing slowly down his sculpted chest, "for someone who acted terrified of touching me in the car…"

He groans softly, already embarrassed.

"…You were pretty damn desperate down there, Jaeyun."

His face burns hotter. Fine, he's just a touch-starved man, desperate for you in every way possible. But how could he not? Have you even looked at yourself?

"I-I can't help it…" His eyes drop to your lips. "You tasted so good."

A breathy chuckle escapes you, quiet and fond. But to Jake's ears, he's already hearing the wedding bells chime.

And suddenly the humiliation twisting in his chest eases into something warmer when you climb into his lap again, turning slowly until your back presses against his chest.

The exact same position. That fucking position in the car that has his mind on an endless frenzy that he thinks he was genuinely getting crazy.

Jake goes completely still beneath you.

“Oh,” you whisper, settling against him deliberately. “Now you’re quiet again?”

His hands hover uncertainly near your hips, like he still can’t believe he’s allowed to touch you.

“You’re mean,” he mumbles weakly against your shoulder. You laugh, one hand patting his hair as the other one aligning his neglected cock on your entrance.

"But I know you like it, Jaeyunnie."

At the same time you presses on the nickname, you sink onto his cock slowly, letting the bulbous head of his length spear you open.

The both of you moan simultaneously. Jake's hands find puchase on your waist, trying his best to stop from manhandling you to just fucking bounce on his dick and letting you adjust. You, on the other hand, let the stretch burn, your walls spasming to accommodate his length.

"S-So big," you stutter, taking him inch by inch. Jake drops his head on your shoulder, his own breathing ragged. "So—full—"

When he finally fits inside you to the brim, you let out a long, drawn-out moan. He fills you up so good that you can feel every vein against your walls, every pulse kissing your insides. It's a dizzying experience that prompts you to start moving your hips.

Jake’s fingers dig into your waist, trembling.

Not because he wants to stop you.

Because he’s trying so hard not to lose himself completely.

The position alone is enough to send him spiraling—your back against his chest, your body in his lap exactly like the car ride, except now there’s no seatbelt digging into his side, no boys teasing from the front seat, no restraint left between the two of you.

Just you and him.

And the devastating realisation that you wanted him too.

Jake lets out a broken sound against your shoulder when you move again, his forehead falling against your skin. His entire body feels feverish, overwhelmed by too much sensation and too many emotions crashing into him at once.

"Wasn't this what got you so hard, Jaeyunnie?" You pant between breathless moans. "Me in your lap, bouncing on your cock like this?"

"Ngh—" A strangled noise escapes his throat. Jake watches with bated breath as your hands find the clasp of your bra and finally let the two soft mounds free. Now, he badly wants you to turn around, eager to relive the scene of your bouncy breasts in Jay's car.

"Did you not—ah—crave this?"

You arch your back, pleasure tingling every nerves as his cock drags against your walls. Jake feels his dick throb inside your hole, the same position that ruined him now had him completely at your mercy.

"S-So tight," he whimpers, mouth falling open at the way you clench around his cock and roll your hips. "S-So fucking tight, Y/N, fuck."

Jake clings onto you desperately, bucking his hips to chase your movement. But you hold down a firm hand on his thigh, completely in charge.

"Don't," you warn, grinding down on him in a way that makes your ass ripple. "Or I'll get up and leave."

Jake freezes instantly.

The warning slices straight through him, sharp and effective. His hands tighten on your waist, but he forces his hips back against the mattress despite every instinct screaming at him to chase you harder.

“O-Okay,” he breathes quickly. “Okay. Sorry.”

God, he sounds wrecked.

You can feel the way his thighs tremble beneath yours, the strain in his breathing every time you move your hips slowly against him. Jake drops his forehead between your shoulder blades with a weak groan, like simply holding himself back is physically painful.

"I'm still mad at you," you murmur. You roll your hips again, faster this time, and Jake nearly whimpers into your shoulder. His jaw clenches so hard he might pop a vessel.

"Are you sure you're not the one—" you moan, your thighs burning from how fast you're exerting yourself. The wet sound of skin hitting skin starts getting louder the harder you slam down your hips. "The one who's being—mean?"

Jake sobs into your skin, half-regretting, half-dizzy. The tight heat of your cunt pulses and flutters around his dick and he genuinely feels horrible for only thinking using his other head now.

Even so, he still manages to apologise again. "I'm s-sorry—"

You clench around him on purpose. Jake digs his nails deeper. "Fuck—"

"Stop fucking apologising," you seethe, voice trembling as you feel your release getting near. "Delete her number or I'll sit in Sunghoon's lap when we get back to Seoul."

There's no bite in your threat. It's just a spur-of-the-moment kind of things, one that you say just to rile him up.

But Jake takes your words like a verdict. He snakes an arm around your waist, lips worshipping your skin in desperate, wet kisses.

"I'm sorry, Y/N, darling," he begs, tears clinging to his lashes. He bites his lips in an attempt to stop himself from moaning because he's so, so close. "I will block her. Fuck—I will delete her number. P-Please don't sit with S-Sunghoon—"

His speech is interrupted by a high-pitched whine. Jake hasn't come all night, he's nothing more than a thread waiting to snap. The moment you bounce harder and faster, the supple skin of your butt jiggling wilder, Jake can feel that he's about to come.

"Y/N—ah—p-puh—lease—" he whimpers, voice scratching at his throat. "'M close, 'm g-gonna cum—"

But he should've known that you're so, so mean.

The moment you lift off his cock, Jake genuinely sobs out loud, thrashing under you.

"No! No, please—" he chokes, hiding his crying face behind his hands, too shattered when his orgasm being denied again. "Please, no—I wanna cum, please."

You turn around and the sight of him—red-faced, wet cheeks, lips trembling—it softens your heart. You quickly pull his wrists and rest his hands on your hips, your own cupping his cheeks.

"I'm sorry, baby," you shush him, blowing kisses to the tip of his nose as you take him again. Jake whimpers quietly. "I'm so sorry—I'll let you cum this time, hm?"

Jake weakly nods, then lets out a soft moan at the familiar feeling of your walls enveloping him. You move again, already sore, but you no longer have it in you to torture your poor, poor Jaeyun. This time, you immediately begin with a fast pace, giving him a show of your tits bouncing with every thrust.

"Ah—fuck—Jaeyunnie—" you bite your lips, expression so erotic that it has the brown-haired boy drooling. "Glasses—like you better with glasses."

Jake is too dazed to register your words, so you pick the glasses on your own and put them on him. And there he is—your sweet, sweet boy, your Jaeyunnie that you adore so much, your Jaeyun that thinks it's bad for wanting you this much.

"S-So—handsome, Jaeyunnie," you roll your hips, chest arching into his face. "My nerdy boy, you're mine, hm?"

Jake physically cannot take it anymore. The sight of you on top of him, bouncing on his cock like your life depends on it, putting on his glasses and calling him yours—it's too much for Sim Jaeyun who's never been given this kind of attention and affection.

Especially from you.

His lips move, but you can barely hear him.

"Hm? What did you say?"

"I said I'm sorry, Y/N," his nails dig into your waist. "I'm so fucking sorry, please don't be mad at me."

Your brows furrow in confusion, but before you know it, Jake is already flipping you around, changing your position in one swift movement. You have half a second to gain your breath before the boy hovering over you pulls you closer by your ankles and throws your legs over his shoulders.

"I'm s-sorry," Jake stutters, slipping his dick back into your cunt and starts thrusting fast. "I-I can't hold it anymore."

Despite the showcase of his strength, Jake looks absolutely ruined. There's a flicker of guilt in his eyes, but from the pace he's railing you, you know that his lust ovverrides whatever little guilt he has.

Soon enough, the air smells so thickly of sex. The sound of his balls slapping your ass, accompanied by your high-pitched moans and his groans are the only one filling up the space, to the point that you're sure one of the boys must've heard you.

It's so hot and filthy that Jake's glasses are all fogged up again. His grip on your waist is now leaving bruises, but you don't care because all you can think of is Jake, Jake's big cock, Jake's stupid glasses and just Jake, Jake, Jake.

"F-f-f-fuck," he exhales shakily, splitting you open with his cock. "I-I'm so—close—"

You thrash around, fisting the sheets until it tears from the force of your nails. "Jaeyun—" you gasp when he keeps abusing that spot that has you seeing stars. "Oh, fuck—Jaeyun—harder—"

Jake leans forward, straining his arms on either side of your head. His glasses slide down his slick nose slightly when he bends down to capture your lips in his thick ones. You both moan into the kiss, finally getting the taste of each other, tongues already clashing for more.

Jake licks into your mouth, hips never faltering, and sucks on your bottom lip. You whimper, the sensation becoming too much until you're just breathing against his lips, all heat and teeth and saliva. Jake groans.

"I-I'm gonna—cum—" he gasps against your mouth, face scrunching in pleasure when you clench around him. "O-Oh my fucking God, Y/N, fuck—please let me cum inside."

His hands find your waist again, thrusting harder than before. His head drops to your shoulder as he begs, again and again.

"P-Please let me cum inside, please," he whimpers, voice needy and whiny. "Please—I'm gonna—I wanna—"

"Just cum," you moan when his teeth scrape against your skin. "Jae—Jaeyunnie—"

Jake groans. With last few, deliberate thrusts, he finally cums—a full-body orgasm that has him shuddering, his cock spurting out rope after thick rope of his release, painting your walls white.

You follow him just a second after, vision blurring for a moment as your second orgasm rips through your body. Your mouth falls open on a silent scream, eyes rolling back from how delicious your climax is.

Jake takes a long moment breathing into your ear, grinding his hips slowly before he's finally pulling out. He hisses as he drags out his cock, careful not to overstimulate you, and watches in awe as white fluid flowing out of your pulsing cunt.

"Oh my fucking God."

You breathe out a laugh, sounding breathless and disbelieving. Seeing Jake sitting still by your legs, you open your arms toward him.

"C'mere, Jaeyunnie. Let's cuddle for a moment before washing up—I'm too sore to walk."

Jake perks up at that. Gone is the hungry, lust-driven boy a few moments ago, now replaced with the shy, kicked puppy holding his tail between his legs.

"Cuddle?" he echoes, unsure. "Are you not mad at me?"

"I could never be mad at you for too long," you reply, giving him a reassuring smile.

It gives Jake a flicker of hope. He scoots closer, still cautious and observing, like approaching a scared animal.

"But I avoided you…"

You drop your arms and pretend to think, making a show of tapping your chin with a finger.

"You're right. You were mean for that. Why don't you carry me to the bathroom and clean me up so we can cuddle afterwards?"

Hearing that, Jake finally relaxes, his tight muscles loosening. With an eager smile, he scoops an arm under your knees and your back, and then lifts you up easily as if you weigh nothing.

"Your wish is my command, my princess."

The next morning, you receive knowing looks from the boys. There are lingering stares on your neck from where Jake was mauling your skin last night, but you have no problem showing them off.

Jake, on the other hand, is on the edge of another breakdown.

"So, Jake," Jay starts, already planning a mischievous teasing inside his head. "How did it feel like to get railed—"

"I did not get railed!" he squeaks, ears blushing red. "I-I was the one who railed her! Right, Y/N?"

There's a laugh bubbling inside your chest as you watch Jake squirm under the relentless teasing of his friends. It felt good to be the one in charge, but after that display of strength and the way he manhandled you last night?

You don't mind having him on top of you.

But the both of you know who's truly in charge.

And if you choose to sit in his lap again, this time grinding and shifting on purpose that he gets hard until the car reaches Seoul, nobody has to know that.

Well, maybe Riki knows. But who cares.

wow okay

permanent taglist: @kristynaaah @seungiesdoll @in-somnias-world @rikismists @loviseamms @ikeupop @k3nza @heezeunx @ot7archives @petulapetula

dividers from: @/diviniyae

[wintrbears]

Irreconcilable Differences | JJK & KNJ (1/2)

Summary: You broke up with Jungkook almost a year ago, but have to see him again for the first time at a mutual friend's wedding. He's sharing a hotel room with his best friend, and just when you happen to step inside it, the hotel goes on lockdown, leaving you no choice but to stay with the two of them for the next twenty-four hours.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader x Namjoon

Genre: Slice of Life AU, Threesome, Exes to Lovers?, Angst, Fluff, Smut, Crack (if you squint)

Word Count: 16.3k

Warnings: crying, wedding, beach/ocean, drinking, thunderstorm, fighting, the subway, a breakup, mention of police, involuntary confinement, gas leak, hotel, ex-boyfriend, heartbreak. SMUT: threesome, kissing, penetrative sex, double penetration, anal sex, oral sex (both receiving), unprotected sex (references to bc), cream pie, cum eating, facial, titty sucking, hand job (m receiving), brief rim job, cum swallowing, face riding/fucking dick riding, spit roasting/eiffel tower, aftercare, neck kisses, choking, hair pulling, alrighty I think that's everything hehe.

Author's Note: say it with me now everyone: two bad bitches AT. THE. SAME. DAMN. TIME. guys I am so excited for this one omg! I hope y’all love this namkook filth as much as I do lol. it’s my first time writing a threesome and I wanted to do a good job for my two best boys!! this fic is like 60% smut and 40% plot 🥵 and also surprise! I decided to give them a part 2 bc I felt like I needed to tell more of this couple’s story, so that will be coming soon!! ilysm and enjoyyy :)

You claim it’s irreconcilable differences. Jungkook calls it you being unreasonable. You end things. Five beautiful years spent learning about one another, falling in love, and eventually finding an apartment to share, all for the castle to come crumbling down on one terrible, godforsaken, stormy evening. 

Jungkook runs after you into the rain upon your theatrical exit from the apartment, because of course he does, and following a ten minute screaming match practically louder than the thunderstorm itself, he manages to drag you back inside. Like the weak woman you are, you assist him in stripping the drenched clothes from your bodies before letting him make love to you one last time on the very couch you chose together years prior. 

By sunrise, you and your essentials are gone and a handwritten note is left on the coffee table stating you’ll come back for the rest of your belongings another time. 

Strangers look at you sympathetically because of your loud weeping on the subway ride to your best friend’s place. You suppose it’s better than them judging you, given that you must look insane with the multiple haphazardly packed bags strewn across your body and evident hickies dusting your neck and shoulders. 

Jungkook calls at least a hundred times, leaving voicemail after voicemail until your phone no longer allows him to leave any more. Before the clock strikes noon, you hear a jarring, repetitive banging on Yuna’s door followed by his agonized voice begging to see you. 

Per her instructions, you sequester yourself in her room and sob into her pillow while she pounds her fist right back and tells him to get lost before she calls the cops. 

That’s the last time you heard his voice.

Until now, that is, because while standing at the reception desk of a Taiwanese hotel which will be your accommodation for the next four days, you hear the familiar, gentle timbre coming from behind you.

“Joon, please tell me you have your passport,” he sighs.

“It was one time, Kook,” Namjoon groans in response.

The phrase is so mundane and yet it completely paralyzes your mind and stops you dead in your tracks. You wish you could lie to yourself and say it isn’t him, but the illustrious nickname prevents you from doing so.

Thankfully, the receptionist finishes checking you in and you’re able to scurry away with your bags before he notices you. You don’t dare to peek over your shoulder and confirm the sighting because seeing him would be far more debilitating than merely hearing him. 

The first anniversary of that horrific night is only a couple days away, but the passage of time isn’t as helpful as people say it is.

You should’ve expected him to be here since you know he’s friends with Hoseok, too. Why didn’t you consider the possibility before sending in your RSVP? Maybe you can still prevent a confrontation by leaving this very instant. You know Hoseok would understand given the circumstances. 

But no, that’s not fair to you or your friend and realistically, you'll only be in the same location during the rehearsal dinner and wedding, so avoiding him elsewhere shouldn’t be too difficult.

Those become your famous last words, because when you exit your room to grab ice a couple hours later, you see Namjoon keying into their room no more than ten doors away. Yelping as you unceremoniously swan dive into a hidden cove, you hold your breath while waiting for his footsteps to retreat before peeling yourself off the wall and sprinting back to your room. 

You naively thought you may never have to see him again, which was honestly your only hope because you know the second you do, you'll fold. It's undeniable that he's the one who got away and you know your self control is far too flimsy to resist him both physically and mentally.

There are no wedding festivities tonight, so you can take this time to prepare your head and heart for the inevitable battle which will take place once you come face to face with him. Although, any preparation you do will be useless because your head will simply command you to run as far away as humanly possible while your heart pleads with you to jump straight into his arms. There’s another area of your body which will beg for something else entirely, but you refuse to give it a dog in the fight.

Hoseok immediately foils those plans by posting on the wedding Facebook page about a welcome party down at the beach later tonight.

If you could look into the camera like you're a character on The Office, you would. Sighing in exasperation, you overdramatically flop on your bed and flail your limbs around like a petulant child. 

Once you're done throwing a temper tantrum, you get ready in the spacious hotel bathroom while repeating encouraging mantras to yourself in the mirror, but you already know mere words won’t save you.

Your dress is definitely too skimpy to be seen by your ex-boyfriend, but there's no choice when everything else in your suitcase is reserved for the following days. It’s a thigh length, deep purple, satin slip that would honestly be perfect for any other occasion, but purple is Jungkook’s favorite color, and the last thing you want is for him to think you dressed up for his sake. In fact, you were almost desperate enough to drop a couple hundred bucks at the gift shop downstairs to avoid wearing it altogether. 

As you descend the egregious amount of steps leading to the beach, you see Hoseok and his beautiful bride, Lia, standing at the bottom. Your friend smiles using his signature heart-shaped lips and enthusiastically waves with both hands while Lia does an adorable princess wave with her left hand.

“I’m so fucking happy you’re here!” He shouts before you even reach the final step.

Hoseok pulls you in for a crushing bear hug and you laugh while returning the embrace. 

“Thanks for having me,” you say once he releases you. 

Lia hugs you afterwards and you compliment her on how beautiful she looks in her white midi dress. 

The pair met in college just like you and Jungkook, which makes the whole affair just slightly soul crushing for you. It doesn't take away from the happiness you feel for them, but it's hard not to compare their relationship flourishing with yours which crashed and burned.

“I could never get married without you,” Hoseok says. 

“Or someone else, for that matter?”

Your friend frowns and a look of guilt sweeps over his features.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve warned you.”

“It’s alright, Hobi,” you tell him. “It was a long time ago now.” Lie. Big fat fucking lie. It still feels like yesterday. “I’ll let you guys greet your other guests.”

The bar is your first stop while you mingle with old college friends also in attendance. Unlike most weddings, the guests pool isn’t entirely made up of couples which eases your mind just a smidge. Even better, Jungkook is here with Namjoon rather than a real date, unless he and his best friend finally turned their bromance into something more. 

Speak of the devil and he shall appear, just as you’re tipping the bartender for your margarita, you turn to see two familiar silhouettes strolling down the steps side by side. 

As if the universe itself is trying to spite you, Jungkook looks even more handsome than you when you last saw him. He’s wearing a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal his tattooed right arm in all its glory and black slacks that grip his thick thighs for dear life with every step he takes. His hair is shorter and pushed away from his forehead, but the few pieces framing his face delicately curl down over his eyebrow. Even though his physique is outstanding, it’s the big brown eyes you adore that leave you breathless, although there’s a somberness to them which wasn’t present before.

You don't know whether you want to cry into your sugary drink or throw yourself in the nearby sea and let the current carry you far away from here. 

To make matters worse, Namjoon looks equally amazing. He’s always been good looking, and you still remember being flabbergasted when you met him and realized both your boyfriend and his best friend are insanely attractive. His attire is similar to Jungkook’s, although he’s wearing a navy blazer over his blue dress shirt and matching slacks. He’s grown out his black hair to the point it falls into his eyes, but it only makes him look more allusive. 

Every woman on the beach, single or not, is downright gawking at the two of them as they greet Hoseok and Lia with warm hugs and stand beside the couple to chat. It takes everything in you to avert your gaze before Jungkook can see you doing the same.

You thought it might take a couple hours for Jungkook to finally find you, but it’s less than ten minutes after his arrival that you hear his voice again.

“Jagiya?”

There’s no reason to turn around since that moniker no longer applies to you. Instead, you languidly sip your drink with your elbows resting on one of the high-tops facing the vast ocean.

“Babe.”

Rolling your eyes until they nearly get stuck in your skull, you glare at him over your shoulder.

“I’m sorry, are you talking to me?”

“Who else would I be talking to?”

Seeing Jungkook up close is so much worse. There better be a defibrillator somewhere on this beach because you’re going to need one very soon. 

“Well, that’s not my name, so I wasn’t sure.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes with a half-hearted scoff.

“I’ve never called you by your name.”

“Because you were my boyfriend,” you argue. “Which you no longer are, so my name should do just fine, thank you very much.”

He makes a second agitated noise before joining you at the table and mirroring your stance so your elbows touch. As if the skin on skin contact burns, you automatically jolt away from him, bringing a frown to his face as his eyes glisten with rejection.

“Can’t we at least catch up?” 

“No.”

Your attempt to escape in the opposite direction is cut short when you barrel into Namjoon’s firm chest. He clutches your arm to keep you from falling and a brilliant smile appears as you lock eyes. 

“Hey, Y/N,” he cheerfully greets you.

“Hi, Joonie,” you sigh. “How have you been?”

“Good.” He looks at Jungkook before releasing your limb and slipping his hands into his pockets. “What about you?”

“Never better."

You make a break for it a millisecond later, running away as fast as the sand will allow to refill your drink and disappear from their sight, possibly even from earth. Fishing your phone from your purse, you find a secluded area and dial the number of your personal SOS.

The phone rings twice before Yuna’s voice comes through the receiver. 

“Everything alright?”

“No,” you whimper.

“Honey, what’s wrong?”

“He’s here."

“Who?”

“Googie!”

“Jungkook?” You fall backwards into the sand with a thump as you pull your knees to your chest. “Oh, honey.”

“He fucking called me jagiya like it was nothing. I mean, who does that?”

“Do you need me to hop on a flight? Or send a hitman?”

Her tone reveals she’s fifty percent trying to cheer you up and fifty percent serious. 

“No. If anyone’s killing him, it’s gonna be me.” Staring up at the night sky, you imagine having similar encounters with him over the upcoming days. “I have to tell Hoseok I can’t stay. I won’t last four days here!”

“No, no,” Yuna chants. “He doesn’t get to win, okay? You’re there for your friend and you deserve to have a good time!”

“How am I supposed to have a good time like this?”

She sighs and clicks her tongue in defeat.

“I don’t know, but if I know that dumbass ex of yours, he’ll just come after you if you hop on a flight right now.”

“Fuck, I hate that you’re right,” you groan.

“Listen, this is what you’re going to do,” she starts. “After the welcome party, go to his room and lay everything on the table. Tell him you’re not here to play catch up or rekindle anything and to leave you the hell alone for the rest of the weekend and you’ll do the same.”

“I’m sorry, you want me to go to his room?” You ask incredulously. “A secluded location with a bed? Something he has a stupidly amazing track record of getting me into!”

“You’re not going to sleep with him, you’re stronger than that,” she states.

“I think you vastly overestimate me, Yunes.”

“Is he there alone?”

“No, he’s here with Namjoon.”

“Well, there you go!” She cheers. “He’s not going to fuck you in front of Namjoon.”

“I think you vastly underestimate Jungkook.”

She leaves you with a few more words of encouragement, but you decide to forgo thinking about him altogether so you can actually enjoy the party. 

The remainder of the evening is spent nursing margaritas and listening to Lia and her bridesmaids energetically discuss the wedding. By the time you leave the beach, Jungkook and Namjoon are long gone, but the notion only brings momentary relief. You know a conversation needs to happen, but you aren’t sure if you have the strength to confront Jungkook. Just being around him hurts like hell and you can only imagine how difficult being alone with him will be.

You mindlessly traverse the hotel while gathering courage and also partially sobering up. Speaking with Jungkook with alcohol still in your veins is maybe the worst idea of all. When you finally knock on their door, it takes less than a minute for Namjoon to greet you with evident surprise on his face. 

He’s clearly gotten comfortable since leaving the beach, standing before you with his shirt unbuttoned to reveal the white t-shirt beneath and his belt undone but still strung through the loops of his slacks.

“Hey,” he says as if it’s a question. 

“Is he here?”

“Who… Kook?” You nod instead of answering because your lip is caught between your teeth as you anxiously bite the skin raw. “Yeah, yeah, hold on.”

Namjoon calls for his friend before opening the door so you can see more of the hotel room. Jungkook comes stumbling out from the bathroom still zipping his pants up and when his eyes land on you, they joyfully light up.

“Baby?” His voice goes up an octave out of pure excitement. “What are you doing here?”

“Don’t call me that,” you blankly state.

His expression falters with utter despair, but you can tell from his flush cheeks that he’s been drinking and is clearly overreacting due to the alcohol swimming in his veins. 

“What am I supposed to call you, then?”

“I told you, Jungkook. My name!” You groan and tip your head back to refrain from throttling him. “Can I come in, please?”

He nods until getting dizzy from the repetitive motion and stumbles back a couple inches. Namjoon gestures with his arm and you thank him before crossing the threshold as he closes the door behind you. He excuses himself to the bathroom while you walk towards the center of the suite and pretend to admire the architecture.

“Why are you here?” Jungkook immediately regrets his word choice and starts shaking his head like a wet dog. “Sorry, that came out wrong. I want you here, I just didn’t think you did, so I’m surprised.”

“I don’t want to be here,” you concur. “But we need to talk.”

“About what?”

“What do you think?” Your tone is too harsh, but you can’t help the emotions crawling up your throat and choking the kindness from your voice. “I’m here to support my friend, same as you, and I would appreciate it if we could steer clear of each other for the weekend.”

“Are you serious?” Jungkook sounds stone cold sober when he replies. “I don’t see you for a year and you come here to tell me to fuck off?”

“Yes, Jungkook, because that’s what exes do,” you explain.

“Nah, fuck that, babe,” he snaps. “I don’t give a damn what other exes do.” There’s a poignant step taken in your direction, but you match his gait to hold the distance between you. Jungkook frowns, his brow creasing in discontent. “You really don’t want to see or talk to me? At all?”

“No! Why would I?” You exasperatedly ask. “Seeing you is fucking hard, Jungkook. Is it not hard for you?”

“No,” Jungkook replies without missing a beat. “Seeing you is as easy as breathing. Being away from you is what’s hard. It’s goddamn torture, jagi.”

“Stop calling me that, Jungkook!”

“Stop calling me Jungkook. You never fucking call me that!”

“Because we were dating! What do you expect me to call you?”

“Anything but my fucking name, please,” he begs as his voice strains with emotion. “It doesn’t even sound right coming out of your mouth.”

“Does asshole sound better?”

Jungkook chuckles humorlessly while running his hand through the front of his hair. He opens his mouth to respond, but is stopped by a chime blaring overhead.

“Please excuse the disruption, loyal guests, but we have an urgent announcement to make. As of this moment, the entire hotel is on lockdown due to a gas leak on one of the lower floors. For the safety of all guests, your rooms will remain locked from the outside and key card access will be entirely revoked. Please stay where you are until we safely clear the gas and allow you to roam the hotel freely again. We estimate it will take no longer than twenty four hours. Thank you and please call the front desk with any questions or concerns.”

As soon as the message ends with another annoying chime, the room goes eerily silent and your blood runs cold. Namjoon exits the bathroom with wide, worrisome eyes, matching the expression on both your faces. 

“No. No, no, no,” you shout while running towards the exit. “No, this isn’t happening!” 

You violently yank on the doorknob even though it doesn’t budge an inch, grunting with effort as if that will somehow help. A tattooed hand gently removes your fingers from the handle to stop your incessant attempts.

“Stop, jagiya, it isn’t going to work,” Jungkook calmly says. 

It's unfair how much comfort his touch alone brings, but you ignore the feeling to helplessly pound your fist on the wood despite already knowing it’s useless. 

“It’ll be okay, I’m sure it won’t actually take them that long,” Namjoon comments. 

“Another second in here is one too long, Joonie.”

You hear Jungkook tsk in annoyance. 

“So, he gets Joonie and I’m still just Jungkook, huh?”

Your dread quickly becomes unadulterated anger as you turn on your heel to face him. 

“How many fucking times —”

“Hey, cut it out!” Namjoon interrupts by standing between you. “If we’re really stuck here you two need to stop acting like fucking children.”

“Me?”

“I’m not —”

“Yes, you fucking are,” Namjoon argues, his voice stern. “Y/N, there’s a pull out bed beneath the couch and I can give you some extra clothes to change into.”

“She’s not wearing your clothes, Joon.” 

Jungkook’s gaze is undeniably intense when he makes eye contact with his friend. 

“Well, I’m sure as hell not wearing yours,” you retort.

Namjoon sighs in defeat and runs his hands down his face. 

“This is what I mean!”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you avoid their eyes and sulk towards the couch on the opposite side of the room. If Namjoon thinks you’re behaving like a child, then you just won’t speak anymore. Simple. Great minds must think alike because Jungkook stomps over to the bed and sits with an overdramatic huff. Namjoon rolls his eyes, but ignores your shared antics by surveying the mini fridge. He’s clearly choosing the sensible route given that it’s your only source of food until the hotel reopens. 

The first hour of imprisonment happens in stark silence, besides the sound of Namjoon moseying about as he passes you both a water bottle before taking a seat in the armchair beside the bed. You all absentmindedly scroll on your phones and pretend you aren’t suffocating from the thick tension permeating the space. 

You immediately text Yuna about the situation, anxiously awaiting her reply with your thumbnail between your teeth as you parse through your many thoughts. When she does respond, her text contains an immeasurable amount of expletives and various emojis. She leaves you with a single instruction at the end of her message: “do not fucking sleep with him, Y/N!”

It’s easier said than done.

Namjoon is the first to slice through the awkward silence via an obviously fake cough. You and Jungkook both look at him expectantly and he responds with a dashing smile while leaning forward in his chair.

“Y/N, you said you came here to talk, so I think you guys should do just that,” he kindly suggests. “I can chill in the bathroom for a while, if you want.”

A sweet smile frames your face as you shake your head.

“That’s alright, Joonie. I don’t have anything to talk about with him,” you respond.

“You don’t? After a whole year you don’t have any questions or things you want to get off your chest?”

“Jungkook made it very clear when we broke up that he doesn’t want to marry me. That’s the only answer I need.”

Jungkook scoffs in response, cracking his neck as though it could release all his pent-up frustration. 

“That’s not true,” he states.

“No? Did I misunderstand something that night?”

“Yes. I never said I don’t want to marry you. I said I wasn’t ready, there’s a big difference."

Now it’s your turn to scoff with an accompanying eye roll.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think there’s that much of a difference when after five fucking years together you still aren’t ready. Sounds like just a cowardly excuse to me,” you retort.

“Cowardly? Is that what you think I am?”

“Yes, actually —”

“Hold on, that's not what I meant by talk,” Namjoon interrupts.

“What do you expect, Joon?” Jungkook asks angrily. “She’s unreasonable!”

“Don’t you dare call me that again,” you sneer, the night in question appearing like a vision in your mind. 

Jungkook’s eyes completely soften when he realizes his mistake, not ever wanting to hurt you despite the predicament you find yourselves in. 

He opens his mouth to speak, but you end any and all conversation by strutting across the carpet and barricading yourself in the bathroom. Once you’re alone, you quietly whimper and slide down the frosted glass until your butt meets the cold tile. 

This will just be your solution for the remaining hours; to stay locked away from the piercing gaze of your ex and the well intentioned efforts of his best friend. You simply lack the wherewithal to look at his handsome face or listen to his calming voice any longer. The cold persona you’ve been maintaining all night is cracking with every word and you refuse to let him see how utterly broken you are underneath. 

Although, it's no use once you start sobbing into your hands because of all the overwhelming emotions. You’re certain he hears your brutal cries even as you muffle the sound in your palms, eventually crying yourself to sleep on the bathroom floor. 

A loud banging on the glass door startles you awake. 

“Y/N,” Namjoon calls for you.

“Use the sink,” you groan while sitting up.

“I’m not knocking for that.” There’s a heavy sigh from outside. “Can I come in?”

A weighted moment passes as your mind deciphers possible reasons not to let him inside, but when there aren’t any obvious choices, you twist the doorknob while scooting away so he can enter. 

When he does, he effortlessly slips in and turns the lock before sitting across from you and pulling his knees to his chest. 

“Hey.”

“Hi,” you murmur.

“I’m not trying to play matchmaker, I hope you know that. It’s just that we’re stuck here for possibly twenty more hours, and I don’t think you’re very comfortable lying on the bathroom floor in a cocktail dress,” he explains.

You nod in agreement as a small grin forms on your lips.

“Yeah, my ass is killing me.”

Namjoon laughs, deep dimples appearing on his cheeks as the lighthearted sound fills the air.

“He fell asleep, too, but maybe you can go bug him and actually sort some shit out?” There's hope present in his brown eyes. “Just because getting back together isn’t on the table, doesn’t mean you can’t at least be on good terms. You two have a lot of mutual friends so this definitely isn’t going to be the last time you see each other.”

“He makes it pretty hard, Joonie,” you argue.

“I know he does. It’s only because he…” Namjoon sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. “It’s only because he’s still so in love with you.”

You appreciate him saying it out loud even though it's painfully obvious that's the case.

“I know,” you quietly admit. “I don’t know if it’s even possible for either of us to ever stop loving the other one.”

Namjoon reaches out to rest his hand on your knee, empathetically running his thumb across the fabric of your dress. He doesn't seem surprised by your inferred confession, which you suppose makes sense given how observant he is.

“If there is that much love still between you, that’s all the more reason to mend things as best you can.”

He leaves you alone again so you can decide for yourself what your next move will be.  

It takes you a couple hours to come to the proper conclusion and return to the suite so you can speak with your ex-boyfriend. When you do, you find him and Namjoon haphazardly sprawled across the mattress still half-dressed in their evening wear.

Jungkook's facial features are serene as quiet snores pass through his lips. This must be the millionth time you’ve witnessed him in this state, but your heart still flutters all the same. You resist the urge to wake him as you once did, by combing his hair back and pressing featherlight kisses to his face. Instead, you nudge his leg where it’s hanging off the mattress and wait for his eyes to blink open.

“Jagiya?” He groggily asks. “Is everything alright, my love?”

Oh, he must still be half asleep. It’s one thing to throw a pet name around, but the infamous epithet exclusively used for you is a step too far.

“Wake up, Jungkook,” you order him.

“I am.”

You ignore the possibility of him purposefully calling you that so you can focus on your mission. 

“We need to talk.”

Jungkook sits up and methodically runs his hands through his hair a couple times before patting the space beside him.

Following his wordless request, you occupy the spot to his right, albeit a bit farther away from where his hand hit the mattress. When he notices the sizeable distance, his disappointment sets a crease in his brow. 

“You wanna talk like we did earlier or the way we used to?”

His question makes you replay your various conversations from today in your head.

“I’m sorry for being such a bitch tonight. I’m just trying to… protect myself,” you explain. 

Jungkook shakes his head. 

“You’re not being a bitch,” he assures you. “I’m sorry, too. I promise I’m not trying to make this any harder on you, I just missed you so fucking much, jagi.”

It's too dangerous to repeat the phrase back to him, despite it being true, so you ignore the comment altogether.

“I know that we need to have a conversation, but I’m not sure where to even start. It feels like we’re beating a dead horse at this point,” you admit.

“I’m not exactly sure, either, but I’ll answer any questions you have or re-explain whatever you need me to.”

There's been one single question occupying your mind for the last year, but you never expected being able to ask it.

“Why wasn’t I enough for you, Jungkook?”

His doe eyes widen and his hands naturally move to caress your face so he can comfort you, assure you of how wrong you are, but he seemingly changes his mind and lets them fall. 

“Not enough for me?” He shakes his head in complete disbelief at the idea. “Oh, baby, me not proposing has nothing to do with you and everything to do with me.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. We spent half a decade together, if you’re not ready for marriage after that then it’s obviously me,” you argue. 

“No, it isn’t,” he states. “Growing up, I watched my parents go from lovesick to arch enemies in a matter of years. So, in my mind, marriage can make even the most perfect couple hate each other. Which means it could do that to us, too.”

“We’re not your parents, Jungkook.”

His parent’s broken relationship has always deeply affected him and it’s something you tried helping him heal from during your time together.

“I know, but from my perspective getting married could easily turn us into them. I thought staying boyfriend and girlfriend would make losing you impossible, but it did the exact opposite.”

“I told you that,” you groan. “The night we broke up, I said you only have one option to keep me with you, and sure, there’s always a risk of things going south, but if you didn’t propose it would happen a helluva lot sooner than if marriage tears us apart.” Without thinking of the consequences, your hands encompass his. “Jungkook, it’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.”

His hands squeeze yours as if he’s double checking that you’re real. 

“I know that now,” he whispers.

“What… what do you mean?”

“I was wrong, jagiya. That night, letting my parents' relationship dictate our own, I made the biggest mistake of my life,” he tells you. “If I could turn back time, I would get down on one knee right there in our living room.”

You feel a familiar pressure from tears collecting in your waterline. It would be wonderful to reverse the hands of time and prevent your breakup from ever happening, but it’s impossible, and no amount of time travel can fix your broken heart.

Jungkook tries brushing the stray tears away once they finally fall, but you turn your head when his fingertips graze your cheekbone.

“Please tell me how to fix this, baby,” he begs.

“You can’t –”

“I don’t mean us. Well, I do, but I know you don’t want that.” He couldn’t be more wrong. “So how do we leave here as friends, at least.” 

Being friends is a terrible decision given how much your heart still absolutely belongs to him, but you also can’t resist having him in your life. So, you extend your hand across the space between you. 

“Friends?”

Jungkook smiles affectionately and shakes your outstretched hand. 

“That was easy,” he comments.

The tension in the room gradually dissipates as you chuckle and drop his hand.

Although, your truce allows for a different, more potent aura to surround you instead. It seems pretending to despise each other was your only protection from the inherent desire you feel, because in the otherwise silent room, the crackling heat between you is palpable. 

The first time you ever laid eyes on each other, Jungkook promptly shoved you into a dive bar bathroom and fucked you against the sink. In fact, you’re positive the two of you have never been near a fuckable surface without partaking in the act. If Namjoon wasn’t lying smack dab in the middle of the bed, you’d probably already be rolling around in the sheets together. 

Namjoon wakes up with a confused grunt before either of you can make such a mistake. He examines the unfamiliar surroundings while cracking his neck and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Hey, lovebirds,” he mumbles.

“Hey, Joon.”

“Ew.”

Jungkook chuckles at your expense and you retaliate by playfully shoving his shoulder. Per his usual antics, he grunts while falling backwards, his upper body hitting the mattress with a soft thump. The melodramatic action makes you giggle without realizing, and you can see Jungkook smiling from his position on the bed. 

Namjoon notices the positive shift in atmospheric pressure and smiles to himself as he stands to stretch his long limbs. 

“So, what are we using this ample amount of time together to do?” He asks while grabbing a snack from the kitchen. 

It’s a logical question given the circumstances, since there isn't much in the room to keep you entertained besides the TV, and who knows what selection of shows and movies the hotel offers. 

While you contemplate an answer, Jungkook sits up and gestures for Namjoon to toss him a treat, which he catches with ease once his best friend complies. Rather than opening the package, he hands it to you before repeating the motion for himself. You avert your eyes so he doesn’t see the pink blush forming on your cheeks. 

“Well, what’s your year been like, Joonie?”

Namjoon smiles at your question even as he’s chewing the granola bar he just took a bite of. He answers after swallowing his food.

“It’s been good, I got promoted to head curator at the museum,” he announces.

“No way, that’s amazing!” You cheer. “I’ll have to swing by sometime.”

“You should, we’ve got some amazing new pieces from this French historian I found,” he explains. 

“Any women in your life?”

You pop some trail mix into your mouth.

“Nah, I’m shit outta luck in that department.” He briefly glances at Jungkook before continuing. “How about you?”

“Nope. No luck with the ladies for me, either.”

Jungkook giggles beside you. 

“Seriously, though, how have you been?” Namjoon asks.

You wish you could answer truthfully, but despite the recent agreement between you and Jungkook, you still want to hold your real feelings close to your chest. For instance, you don’t want him to know the feeling of someone else’s lips makes your stomach twist in disgust. Something you only became aware of after attempting to kiss a stranger at a bar some months ago. The encounter only lasted approximately three seconds before you stopped the man’s advances and spent the remainder of the night sobbing in the bathroom.

“I’ve been good, too,” you say, keeping it simple. “What about you?”

Jungkook’s eyes widen when you point your attention to him. 

“Oh, fine, I guess,” he answers solemnly. “No promotions or… you know.”

You hum in acknowledgement and finish the rest of your trail mix to avoid answering any further questions.

“So, that took up approximately five minutes of the next nineteen hours,” Namjoon states matter-of-factly.

“Hm, let’s play kid games like never have I ever or some shit,” Jungkook excitedly suggests.

“Kook,” Namjoon laughs. “Be for real.”

“Hyung, we have hours to kill here.” Jungkook points to you. “Tiebreaker vote.”

“Uh.” Your head tilts as your mind contemplates the possible consequences. “I mean, why the hell not? It’s not like I don’t know everything about you anyway, Jungkook.”

“You don't know what I got up to in the last year,” he retorts. 

“Fine, but we need drinks,” Namjoon says as he hands out beers before taking a seat on the nearby couch. “I’ll go first?” You and Jungkook both nod and the older man giggles when he decides on his first prompt. “Never have I ever slept with someone in this room.”

Twin indignant glares are sent his way as you and Jungkook sip your drinks.

“That’s fucked up,” Jungkook comments. 

“Your turn, Y/N.”

Similar to Namjoon, you look between the two boys and chuckle to yourself.

“Never have I ever had a penis.” Jungkook stares you down while Namjoon merely shakes his head and sips his beer. “Your turn.” You tap Jungkook’s chest with the bottle.

“Hmm, never have I ever not been named Jungkook.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“You’re a bozo.”

You and Namjoon drink simultaneously. 

“Alright, no more fucking around, we die like men,” Namjoon states while placing his elbows on his knees. “Never have I ever had sex in a public place.” There’s an incredibly awkward silence before you and Jungkook slowly bring the bottles to your lips. “No shit? I didn’t think I’d actually get you guys with that one.”

“Multiple times, in fact,” Jungkook says after drinking. 

“In very public places,” you add.

“Freaks,” Namjoon jokes. 

“Okay, never have I ever gone skinny dipping,” you say.

Only Namjoon drinks and it scratches an itch in your brain knowing Jungkook hasn't completed one of your bucket list items without you. 

“There’s an ocean right outside, ya know,” Jungkook comments with a smirk. You respond by elbowing his ribs. “Ow, understood.” He thinks for a minute before a more sinister smile appears. “Never have I ever had a threesome.”

No one drinks, which only causes Jungkook’s expression to morph into one of satisfaction.

“I’m sorry, did you only ask because you want to know if I’ve had one since we broke up?”

“Yes,” Jungkook shamelessly admits. “You’ve always wanted one and it’s the only opportunity I’ll have to ask.” 

“You wanna try a threesome, Y/N?” Namjoon asks with an eyebrow quirked. 

“Mmhm, but my boyfriend was always too jealous to indulge me,” you state while side-eyeing Jungkook. 

Your ex scoffs with a shake of his head. 

“Why don’t you tell Namjoon why I said no, babe.” You suddenly look like a deer in headlights. “That’s what I thought.”

“Wait, wait." Namjoon scoots to the edge of his chair. “Spill.”

“Oh, no,” you reply.

“C’mon, jagi, tell him,” Jungkook goads. A threatening glance is sent his way, but he ignores your agitation and menacingly tilts his head as if to taunt you. All hope is lost when he turns to face his best friend. “She wanted us to have a threesome with you.”

Namjoon chokes on air.

“Huh?”

“Oh yeah, she begged me on multiple occasions.”

“Jungkook!” 

His poor friend’s face is glowing with a bright red blush as he processes the confession.

“What… why me?”

“I mean, it’s not everyday your handsome and buff boyfriend has an equally handsome and buff best friend,” you explain. “What’s a girl to do?”

“It’s not everyday you’re stuck in a hotel room with them, either,” Jungkook notes while calmly drinking his beer. 

You and Namjoon whip your heads in his direction with equally large eyes. Jungkook merely chuckles at the joint reaction and leans back on his hands like he didn’t just plant a ticking time bomb in the center of the room. 

“Sorry, are you —”

“Suggesting we all sleep together?” He turns to you with a gleam in his eye. “Yes, jagiya, I am.”

“But why now when you always said no before?”

“Because as you made it very clear earlier this evening, I’m no longer your boyfriend. I have no problem sharing what isn’t mine to begin with,” he explains. 

Something about his statement shatters your heart in a way you refuse to admit.

Namjoon clears his throat to garner everyone’s attention.

“Uh, is this something we’re genuinely considering? Because I’m totally down.”

“Babe?”

Jungkook has nothing but hope brimming in his eyes while you maim your lower lip with your teeth. There are multiple contrasting emotions battling in your head, but the overall winner is excitement as the feeling flows through your veins and becomes your answer. 

“As long as you stop calling me that.” There’s a brief pause before you remember to cover all your bases. “In either language, Jungkook.” 

The man in question’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead as a charming smile grows. 

“Deal.”

Your heart skips a couple beats when he shuts his eyes and leans in with pursed lips. As if it’s second nature, Jungkook’s hand rises to hold the back of your head, but you keep him in place with a gentle touch to his chest. 

“Give me a minute.”

The mattress bounces when you stand to run away into the safety of the bathroom again. Oxygen fills your lungs for the first time in minutes upon entering the secluded space. Moving towards the counter, your hands grip the marble as you turn the faucet and splash cold water on your face. 

Your best friend appears like an apparition in your mind, reminding you of your sworn duty not to sleep with your ex-boyfriend. Technically, you're only half sleeping with him, since someone else will be there. Yeah, you’re certain Yuna will accept that bullshit explanation without biting your head off. 

She’ll just have to forgive you, because you’ve imagined this threesome countless times over the years and nothing is going to prevent it from becoming a reality now. Sure, you never pictured it happening because you got trapped in hotel with your gorgeous ex and his equally attractive best friend, but here you are.

After spending some time calming your racing heartbeat, you stare yourself down in the mirror and share an affirming glance with your reflection before exiting. 

When you do, Jungkook is standing just beyond the door with desire in his dark irises. Namjoon isn’t far away, sitting on the corner of the bed with his legs spread while he intently watches the two of you.

“You ready?” Jungkook asks in a low tone.

Heaven help you.

“Do your worst.”

Jungkook doesn’t waste a single second and slams his lips on yours while his large hands encapsulate your head. The sudden movement causes an involuntary moan, his warm lips already turning your mind to mush as you clutch his shirt to keep your knees from giving out.

Heaven can’t help you now, because the feeling of Jungkook kissing you again is far above its paygrade. 

His mouth coaxes yours open and you grant him unlimited access without another thought, allowing him to slip his tongue inside so it can tangle with your own. The familiar motions transport you to a world where your breakup never occurred and Namjoon isn’t a couple feet away. It honestly feels as though you’re the only two people in existence when he molds his mouth to yours and grips your hair between his fingers like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. 

“Fuck,” Jungkook whispers against your lips. 

He gives you a final peck before kissing across the lower half of your face and down your neck. You indiscriminately moan as his soft, wet lips repeatedly meet the most sensitive areas of your skin. Your hand rakes through his styled hair when he licks across your jugular and takes a delicate bite. He gives your collarbone, sternum, stomach, and abdomen chaste kisses while rapidly descending to his knees. The sight of his lustful eyes peering up at you from the vulnerable position makes your core clench. 

Your eyes are silently pleading him to touch you and it brings a devilish smirk to Jungkook’s face. His hands sneak beneath the hem of your dress to touch your bare skin while kissing the fabric resting on your thighs. When you whine for more, he pacifies you by bunching the dress up to reveal the lace underwear covering your cunt. He groans in satisfaction and starts kissing your mound through the material, causing you to hold onto his black strands for dear life. 

“Jungkook, please,” you breathlessly beg. 

“Use your words,” he orders while making out with your panties. 

Jungkook’s always demanded you spell your wants and needs out for him in bed, so you should’ve expected his response. 

“Need your mouth on me,” you pant.

He hums affirmatively and tugs your underwear to the floor before languidly licking your pussy from bottom to top. A combination between a broken gasp and pleasurable cry comes from you in response. The sensation of his tongue moving through your folds is earth shattering even if you’ve experienced it a million times and the feeling must be mutual because Jungkook is enthusiastically moaning into your cunt while lapping up the leaking essence from your hole with precise flicks of his tongue. 

“Goddamn, you taste so fucking good,” he grunts before diving back in. 

His fingers hold you in place by the meat of your thighs as he eats you out like you’re his final meal on earth. Jungkook’s always been an expert at eating pussy, and his innate skill is only highlighted by the fact that you haven’t been touched by another human in a year. Between his hands gripping your flesh and his mouth slurping your juices, your mental fortitude doesn’t stand a chance.

Jungkook continues kissing and licking your pussy for a torturous amount of time before finally granting you solace and moving upwards to pleasure your clit. When you jump from the sensation of him kitten licking you, he growls and his fingertips bite into your supple thighs.

“Don’t fucking move.” He flattens his tongue on your pearl and moves his face side to side to create friction. Your head falls against the glass as you helplessly moan. “You have no fucking idea how much I missed this pussy.”

The deep timbre of his voice sends vibrations through you as he maintains the mind blowing tempo. He halts the efforts of his tongue to suck your swollen clit into his mouth, causing your eyes to roll deep into your skull. In the same breath, he purposely allows drool to drip from his lips onto your pussy, as if you aren’t gushing cum already. The extra wetness creates a seamless glide of his mouth on your skin and you can barely keep your body upright from how amazing it feels.

“Goo — Jungkook,” you whine. 

He ignores your call of his name, although you think he caught the near slip up because his low chuckle tickles your wet skin and sends shivers down your spine. 

“Fuck, Joon, you gotta taste her.” He moves away from your cunt and you automatically whimper, your hand clutching his hair to keep him close. “Best pussy in the entire fucking world.”

When you glance at the man in question after taking multiple deep breaths, you notice him sporting a cheshire grin while his dragon eyes dangerously call to you.

“Is that so?” Namjoon tilts his head as he holds the seductive eye contact. “May I?”

The only action you can muster is a weak nod, your head barely holding itself up from how high up in the clouds you are. 

Jungkook catches your attention by placing a final kiss to your clit before rising and tucking a piece of stray hair behind your ear.

“Be good,” he instructs. 

There’s an urge within you to fight back and tell him it’s no longer his place to command anything from you, but the lustful haze veiling your consciousness prevents you from speaking altogether.

Before you realize, you’re nose to nose with Namjoon and the miniscule distance between you makes your heart stop.

“We’re gonna have so much fun with you, Y/N,” he taunts.

He drops to his knees the very next moment, firmly gripping one of your thighs as he maneuvers it to rest on his shoulder. 

It’s been more than six years since anyone beside Jungkook touched you, and although you want this, the feeling of someone else holding you inadvertently causes a negative reaction. Your hands begin to shake and your eyes snap shut as unease washes over you and settles in your stomach. 

Jungkook must notice the energy shift, because you feel his lips caressing your shoulder as he gently kisses your skin. 

“It’s alright,” he whispers between smooches. “Just enjoy it, beautiful.”

Namjoon’s plush lips are kissing and sucking on your inner thighs as his face ascends towards your center. It’s easier said than done, but you eventually acclimate to the foreign touch and manage to calm your body and mind. 

When his mouth reaches your cunt, he tastes you for the first time with a tentative, featherlight lick, but after slowly swiping his wet muscle through your folds a couple times, he amorously hums while gripping your thighs tighter. He forces your pussy down onto his face and you yelp, a desperate hand grasping his spare shoulder for support. 

“Fuck, Joonie” you whine.

The younger man is still painting your neck with sloppy kisses as Namjoon does the same to your cunt. 

His mouth feels completely different in comparison to Jungkook, but still just as pleasurable. While your ex eats you out as if he simply can’t get enough, Namjoon seems to be savoring every single bite. 

Despite the delicate pressure of his tongue gliding along your slit, you feel pure greed behind his actions. He’s holding you firmly in place while bobbing his head to lick every inch of your cunt and his wanton noises sound like he just wants more, more, and more. Then his tongue pushes into your hole and licks long your inner walls as his buttery lips absolutely devour you and the feeling is jaw dropping. 

“Jesus, you weren’t kidding,” he comments under his breath. Namjoon looks up to ensure you’re watching his tongue take a single, long lick of your pussy before curling your juices into his mouth. “You’re fucking delicious, baby.”

You pathetically moan over his praises.

“Make her come, Joon,” Jungkook says. “She looks so pretty when she finishes.”

Namjoon hears your ex loud and clear, keeping his eyes on you when he switches gears and starts mouthing at your clit. 

Gone is the gentle giant as he religiously flicks his tongue over your nerve endings before teasing you by moving the muscle in slow circles instead. He seems to enjoy your response to his actions, an airy chuckle meeting your core where his lips have begun sucking on your nub. Of course your eyes are rolling as you pant and sink your fingertips into his shoulder muscles, he’s pleasuring your most sensitive spot as if he’s done it countless times. 

He reclaims your pussy to drink the weeping essence collecting there, but his nose nuzzles your clit so you’re still being stimulated in both areas. The perfect combination makes your mind blank and your senses malfunction until all they recognize are him. 

You don’t just fall over the edge, you’re forcefully pushed off the precipice by his extraordinary movements.

“Oh, holy shit,” you cry.

The gorgeous man on his knees for you groans in delight as you come on his face, swallowing every ounce of cum you give him. If he wasn’t still balancing your leg on his shoulder, the convulsing your body does in reaction to the climax would send you toppling. 

Jungkook ardently watches you as the high simmers, observing your every twitch and noise with heat in his eyes. Meanwhile, Namjoon is still slurping away beneath you like he could continue for hours without complaint.

You shove at his shoulder when the oversensitivity becomes too great, needing to focus on your trembling breaths so your body can return to baseline. 

“How was that?” Namjoon asks as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

A dry chuckle leaves your lips.

“What a stupid fucking question.”

Both men laugh as Namjoon stands and Jungkook sits on the bed. 

“So, who are you sucking off first, beautiful?” 

Jungkook’s lopsided smirk is too attractive for his own good, and you know it’s only present because he found a clever loophole to your sole condition for this entanglement. 

“Well, since you let Namjoon do your dirty work, I think you should finish what you started while I thank him for doing such a wonderful job,” you explain. “Whaddaya think?”

He doesn’t respond other than by pulling you into his lap by your thighs while simultaneously lying back so you’re straddling him. 

“Hop on your favorite seat, then.”

Your eyebrows lift for a silent confirmation of his request and he winks as an answer. The anticipation of having him again creates childlike giddiness within you as you maneuver yourself above his head. At the same time, Namjoon strolls to the opposite side and pulls his belt through the loops to remove it. Once his slacks are kicked into a pile on the carpet, he stands directly in front of you where you’re kneeling over Jungkook’s face. 

“You know, Kook’s bragged about your mouth on multiple occasions, so your reputation precedes you,” Namjoon states.

“Oh, I assure you, I’ll exceed your expectations, Joonie,” you confidently reply.

Before you can continue the conversation, Jungkook is tugging your thighs down until your bare pussy is smothering his mouth. You moan as your head falls back upon feeling his searing hot tongue on you again. He parrots the noise into your folds, accompanied by the erotic sound of him repeatedly bringing your cum into his mouth.

When your attention returns to Namjoon as Jungkook continues his diligence on your cunt, you see his eyes reverently staring at the scene while he palms his covered cock. You reach for him, dipping your fingers beneath the fabric resting on his hips to pull him closer. He stumbles forward with a deep laugh and aides you in pushing the garment down his thick thighs to reveal his cock. 

To state it plainly, the man is well fucking endowed. He’s slightly longer than Jungkook, although if memory serves correctly, not as thick as him. Comparisons aside, his dick is genuinely mouth watering and all of your emotions are instantly superseded by the innate desire to taste him. 

“Like what you see?”

“Mmhm,” you say with a slow nod.

His cock is achingly hard and twitches in his hand as he strokes himself without breaking eye contact with you. Your tongue slowly traces your lips as you imagine how he’ll taste, the bead of precum forming on his head practically calling your name. Seeing him in all his glory is the perfect reminder of why you begged Jungkook for this so many times. There’s no doubt you’re about to have the time of your life being sandwiched between them all night.

Your warm hand replaces his own as you begin languidly stroking him and running your thumb across his slit to gather the precum and work it down his shaft. He groans as his head lulls, giving you the sexiest view of his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. 

“You’re so big,” you tell him aimlessly. 

He doesn’t respond, clearly too preoccupied with relishing the feeling of your small hand wrapping around his thick cock. 

Meanwhile, Jungkook is still fervently licking your pussy like rent is due tomorrow. His hands remain on your hips after creeping upwards from your thighs and he uses the leverage to move your cunt back and forth across his face, causing his big nose to catch on your clit and effectively nullify your senses. 

Despite the debilitating pleasure you're receiving, you focus on the man before you and bend over to lick his cockhead, making Namjoon instinctively clutch your hair. You dutifully swipe your tongue across his velvet skin to get acquired with his masculine taste. When you tease him by circling the sensitive ridge of his head with just the tip of your tongue before flattening the muscle once you reach his tip, Namjoon forcefully groans. 

“Fuck, baby,” he curses under his breath. 

His reaction encourages you to finally take him between your wet lips, suckling on his head as your hand continues working him in smooth strokes. 

“You’re so sexy, Joonie,” you mewl after leaving the pretty tip of his cock covered in drool. 

“Keep putting your mouth on me then,” he chuckles. 

Namjoon’s always been peaceful and practical, but you can hear the sharp edge in his tone born from your teasing. 

Following his orders, you fully wrap your lips around him and bob your head with your tongue out to soak the remaining length of his cock. Your hand falls away and joins your other on the mattress to keep yourself steady. You swallow his dick inch by inch as you bring him deeper into your mouth with each glide. Your actions turn him noisy above you, endlessly whining and groaning as his fingers tug on the hair caught between them.

Jungkook’s just as loud as he lazily drinks your essence and moans into your cunt. He’s going slower than normal so he can prolong your pleasure while you take care of his friend, but the andante rhythm of his mouth doesn’t make his movements any less punishing. His tongue is constantly alternating between long sweeps of your pussy from bottom to top and tauntingly circling your clit. 

“Holy fuck,” Namjoon breathes. “So fucking good, baby.”

His nonsensical praises are totally understandable, since you’re using all the tricks in the book to energetically suck him off. Your tongue makes loops around his cock every time you move your head closer to his pubic bone. When you pull back, you press the muscle firmly along the underside of his shaft and flick it against his tip before doing it all over again. It takes a decent amount of time to fully sheath him in your throat due to his size, but once your nose is buried in his pubic hair, you hold the position so he can savor the feeling. He certainly seems appreciative, given that he practically growls like a wild animal and yanks on your hair. 

The next time you descend and his tip sinks deep into your throat, you swallow so he can feel the way your muscles constrict around his dick. That nearly makes him lose his marbles, his nails harshly scratching at your scalp as you blow his mind along with his cock. 

“Mother of God, Y/N.”

A giggle escapes as you take a momentary reprieve and flatten your tongue on his head, lapping up the precum pooling over his slit. 

“Told you,” Jungkook proudly states from beneath you. “She got you close yet, Joon?”

His voice is partially muffled by your thighs around his head, but his friend still hears the question. 

“Fuck yes, about to blow any second,” Namjoon breathlessly replies. 

It’s quite obvious he’s telling the truth by the way his cock deliciously throbs inside your mouth. Upon hearing his answer, you suction your lips around him and vigorously bob your head to finish him off. Your fingers even join the fray to fondle his heavy sack that’s full of all the cum you’re about to swallow. 

Jungkook kicks his own motions into high gear so you two come simultaneously, forcing your cunt down on his mouth and spitting into your folds so he can wreak havoc on your hole. 

His unexpected ministrations make you yelp and Namjoon gasps in response to the vibrations around his cock. You continuously moan as you work upon realizing the effect on him, and within seconds his balls tighten in your hand and you sink down completely so his cum shoots straight down your throat. 

“Oh shit,” he grunts.

Tasting his warm seed before it paints your esophagus white is downright sinful, but feels oh so good. It’s been far too long since you’ve had the pleasure of breaking a man off and letting him empty his balls in your mouth. 

The movements of your mouth never cease while swallowing every drop he provides, allowing your tongue to collect the essence that spreads along his shaft. Although you’re focusing on Namjoon, Jungkook is dangerously close to bringing you an orgasm by rapidly fucking his tongue into your pussy. 

When you do come, your sharp cries force Namjoon’s cock from your mouth as your body shakes with the unbelievable strength of your second orgasm. 

“Ah, Jungkook!”

Namjoon’s hand is still in your hair and he attentively combs through the strands as pleasurable tears prick your eyes. Jungkook is groaning underneath you as he eats the cum spilling from your pussy and soaking his face. He doesn’t stop tormenting your sensitive folds until you finally roll off him and collapse on the bed. 

All three of you are erratically panting from the intense pleasure and effort. 

You clock the massive tent in Jungkook’s slacks and immediately feel the urge to satiate him before you’ve even caught your breath. 

“Jungkook, strip.” He subconsciously nods and starts unbuttoning his shirt to remove it from his torso. His slacks and boxers come off in one go, revealing the familiar sight of his gorgeous cock to you. It takes every ounce of your strength to resist moaning out loud. “Namjoon, have you ever been to Paris?” 

Your other companion is still delirious from his overwhelming climax and your doe-eyed, curious expression doesn’t aid him in the slightest, but he shakes his head as an answer nonetheless. 

Upon seeing his response, you maneuver to all fours with your ass facing him and your head towards Jungkook. Your ex is standing beside the bed and watching you like a hawk as you get into position. 

“You sure about this, doesn’t your jaw hurt?” Jungkook questions. 

“C’mon, Jungkook, you know how much I love the pain,” you respond. 

His only reaction is an irritatingly sexy, smug grin as he comes to stand right in front of you, his hard cock standing at attention only an inch away from your awaiting lips. 

“I get to fuck you?” Namjoon asks from behind you. 

His hands are traversing your waist, hips, and thighs and when he flips your dress up to reveal your bare ass and soaking pussy, he hums delightfully. 

“Of course you do,” you respond, seductively looking over your shoulder at him. “You better do it right, Joonie, or we’re gonna have a problem.”

He clicks his tongue. 

“You don’t need to worry about that, baby.”

Returning your attention to Jungkook, your eyes travel from his v-line up his sculpted torso, but before they reach his face, an unfamiliar artwork catches your attention. 

“Did you… did you get a new tattoo?” 

Jungkook glances towards his right shoulder where the new, colorful ink is etched into his skin. The shoulder piece partially covers his old tattoo and stretches across his collarbone. You can’t help but gawk at the pretty art on his honey skin, honestly shocked that he finally added to his sleeve.

“You like it?” 

He looks far too cocky about your reaction for your taste, but you do in fact like it. You’ve told him many times just how hot a tattoo in that location would look, and it seems he took your advice long after you were gone.

“Ye — yeah,” you answer. 

The confident expression only grows when you unfortunately fail at responding like a normal human, far too distracted by the ink to think properly. 

Rather than teasing you as usual, Jungkook gently pets your hair before resting his hand on your jaw. He uses the controlling grip to pull your face closer to his cock and you automatically push your tongue out to lick the precum off the tip. Jungkook smiles at your instinctual reaction, as if pleasuring him is something written in your DNA.

“Why don’t you show me just how much you like it?” 

His tone is dripping with desire to the point his voice shakes, his eagerness to have your lips around him evident in his phrasing. 

You obediently press your tongue to his skin again, this time leisurely dragging the muscle along his head. The hand on your jaw rescinds to your hair and pulls the strands away from your face so he can see you kitten licking his cock.

“Good girl,” he praises, his eyes never once leaving your face.

Meanwhile, Namjoon begins running his dick through your folds, lubricating himself with your cum so he can slide into your pussy with ease. 

“Go on, Joon,” Jungkook instructs. “Let’s fuck her dumb on both ends, shall we?”

When Namjoon pushes in without another word, the feeling of his tip pressing into your hole makes you keen and desperately grip the sheets beneath your fingers. 

“Would you like that, baby?” Namjoon asks to patronize you. “Do you want us to stretch your holes with our big cocks?’

When you only nod in response, Jungkook tugs on your hair in retaliation. 

“Yes,” you whimper. “Please, ruin me.”

Namjoon enters you one inch at a time so you feel every ridge and curve as he descends into your pussy. You’re still licking Jungkook’s head and shaft, sufficiently coating his cock in saliva before taking him between your lips, but it’s nearly impossible to focus on the man in front when the one behind you is using his dick to spear you. An enthusiastic moan breaches the air once he’s fully inside you, and the men share a demeaning laugh at your current predicament. 

It’s honestly nasty how much you crave the feeling of them stuffing you. 

As soon as Namjoon pulls back for the first time, you suck Jungkook’s cock into your mouth. They both pornagraphically moan because of the pleasure your cunt and mouth simultaneously provide them. 

“Shit, you’re so fucking tight,” Namjoon grits through his teeth. 

“Oh, fuck,” Jungkook whines.

Namjoon takes control via a fierce grasp on your hips, giving him the ideal leverage to thrust into you. Similarly, Jungkook clutches your hair like reins between his fingers in preparation for you deepthroating his cock.

The initial stroke into your pussy sends you forward until you’re swallowing about half of Jungkook’s cock, forcing an erotic gasp from him. Namjoon’s movements create the perfect bobbing motion for your head, making this eiffel tower position somewhat easier than merely sucking dick. The strength of his thrusts allows you to take more of Jungkook into your mouth with each one, so your only job becomes keeping your tongue out and tightening your lips around him, occasionally moaning, gagging, or swallowing when he tickles your throat.

“She’s a fucking dream, isn’t she?” Jungkook says with strained vocal chords.

“That’s a fucking understatement,” Namjoon instantly replies.

The feeling of Namjoon fucking you is obviously foreign, but earth shattering nonetheless. He magically knows the perfect angle for his cock to consistently hit your g-spot, driving himself deep inside you while maintaining a steady pace to prevent from hindering your work. The push and pull of his hips creates mind blowing friction and stimulation as the thick veins running along his shaft rub against your inner walls.

He’s certainly fulfilling his promise as he effortlessly rearranges your guts, his dick reaching parts of you long forgotten prior to this.

You’re clearly excelling, too, because Jungkook is incoherently cursing and panting like a dog above you. Namjoon’s diligence from behind means your sole focus can remain on the actions of your mouth, lips, and tongue. Despite your familiarity with sucking Jungkook’s cock, there’s still an adjustment period due to his size, but once his tip meets your esophagus, you purposely gag around him, allowing your drool to coat his skin. 

Jungkook’s got quite the ego, which you’ve always found unbelievably sexy, and seeing your lips stretched to the limit while you willingly choke on his cock is hands down his favorite sight in the world. 

“Fuck, no one sucks my cock like you do,” he claims. “God fucking damn.”

Although he’s complimenting you, his statement makes your eyebrows pinch together. You’re unsure if he means it rhetorically or if he’s actually comparing your skills to someone else, namely someone he may have been with in the last year. The thought makes your heart sink into your stomach, but you shove the anguish away so you can continue focusing on this moment.

“God, your pussy is fucking insane, baby,” Namjoon states.

You’d thank him if it wasn’t for the large cock in your mouth.

Alas, you’re slightly preoccupied with being penetrated on both ends like a pig on a spit, not that you mind, since the incredible sensation is driving you hog wild, anyway. 

Namjoon’s length fills you up entirely and your pussy reacts by tightening around him every time he pistons into you. Meanwhile, Jungkook is positively abusing your throat, the saliva pooling in the corners of your mouth dripping down his balls and turning them shiny. If you could lift a hand without falling over, you’d massage them so he’ll spill his seed faster. 

Although, that ends up being unnecessary, because Jungkook nearly chokes when you suction your lips around him while he’s stuffed in your mouth.

“Can I paint your face, beautiful?” He desperately asks.

Nodding as you peer up with siren eyes, you maneuver your tongue in circles around his shaft to send him reeling. 

Jungkook removes himself from your warmth and fists his cock until spurts of hot cum begin shooting from his tip. You open your mouth wide and close your eyes, giving him full control over the picture of sin he’s going to draw on your face with his semen. His cum mostly lands in your mouth, which you joyfully swallow, while the rest covers your cheeks and chin in a creamy, white liquid. 

“Ah fuck, that’s right. Take it all, gorgeous,” Jungkook gasps.

After he firmly squeezes the head of his cock to ensure he’s given you every last drop, he bends over to kiss you, holding your face with both hands as his cum smears across his own face. 

Namjoon doesn’t stop his deep strokes into your cunt, causing you and Jungkook to moan into one another’s mouths as his actions force your faces closer to the beat of his dick entering you. 

“Jungkook,” you whisper once he pulls away. 

“So good… always so good for me.”

He licks a glob of warm seed from your cheek, giving you multiple chaste kisses afterwards as his friend begins to slow his assault on your pussy. You whine when Namjoon’s cock leaves you empty, but he placates you by spanking your ass and then massaging over the reddened skin. 

“You could’ve come in me, Joonie,” you tell him.

Jungkook continues kissing and licking your skin to wash away the remnants of his pleasure. 

“Shit, no I couldn’t. I wanted to, believe me, but I’m still empty from you sucking my fucking soul outta me earlier.” You chuckle proudly at the same time Jungkook stands to his full height. “Kook, why don’t you fuck her while I watch? Let me ramp back up.”

“That alright with you or do you need a break?” Jungkook asks as he tucks your sweaty hair behind your ear.

“Have I ever needed a break, Jungkook?”

Your reply makes him smirk in satisfaction.

“C’mere, then,” he whispers while leaning down to kiss you again, sending you both tumbling backwards as he hovers above you.

His hands rake across your thighs until they catch your dress so he can pull it over your head, forcing your lips apart for a mere second before they collide again. With you now naked beneath him, Jungkook touches you everywhere he possibly can, letting his fingers map your outline as if he doesn’t already have you memorized ten times over.

“No bra?”

He eagerly kisses across your jaw and down your neck, one hand stopping the excursion to hold your head still so he can suck on your sensitive skin before licking over the mark he leaves. 

“You know me,” you breathe.

“Yeah, I do,” he whispers into your skin and then takes a possessive bite with his canines. 

In one smooth motion, you wrap your thighs around his hips and flip him so you can rest your bare cunt over his length. He makes a surprised noise at the momentary act of dominance, an adorable laugh coming from his lungs as he affectionately holds your hips. Scraping his toned pecs with your nails, you admire the vision of him beneath you and absentmindedly trace his new tattoo with your pointer finger. 

“You wanna ride me, beautiful?” He asks with a squeeze of his digits into your sides. When you nod, he smiles graciously and leans up to kiss your collarbones. “Say it.”

“I wanna ride you, Jungkook.” Your nails create thin, red marks in his skin so you can hear him moan. “I need to feel your big cock filling me up.”

“Fucking hell,” he groans.

Jungkook brings you to your knees while your hand slithers between your bodies to stroke him until he’s fully erect and twitching in your palm. When you sit on his thighs and he penetrates you again after what feels like an eternity, your head falls back in irrevocable ecstasy. He takes on a similar pose, his head pressing into the pillows surrounding him as his fingers leave brutal indents on your hips.

“Oh, God,” you whimper.

The recognizable sensation is otherworldly and every nerve ending in your body seems to come alive at the feeling of Jungkook coming home. His dick is white-hot and pulsing within you and it’s impossible for your senses to comprehend anything but him and his cock. You’re not certain you even want to move from this position, perhaps you’ll just remain still and cockwarm him while appreciating everything you lost. 

Jungkook clearly has other ideas, because he uses his leverage to start bouncing you up and down, letting everything but his tip leave your walls before forcing his entire cock into you again at the perfect pace.

“Shit, you feel s’fucking good,” he tells you. 

You only manage a broken whine in response because his engorged head is consistently kissing your g-spot while your clit grinds against his pelvis. 

Namjoon is staring at the erotic scene from the chair beside the bed, obviously mesmerized by your tits bouncing in time with your hips. You momentarily catch his eye, winking at him as he licks his lips and slowly strokes himself, but your attention is stolen when Jungkook pulls you down for a breathtaking kiss.

Twin moans tangle in the air around your faces as Jungkook seamlessly slips his tongue into your mouth and you grab his face so you can continue messily devouring each other without restraint. 

“I imagined this so many fucking times,” Jungkook confesses.

In an act of complete betrayal to your consciousness, you reply without missing a beat.

“Me, too.”

He forces your lips apart to fill your mouth with his tongue, allowing the muscle to sloppily explore and dance with your own. His teeth sink into your swollen lower lip and you whimper, causing Jungkook to possessively swallow the noise as he returns to kissing you. 

Meanwhile, you steal control and force Jungkook into the backseat, fucking yourself on his big cock and riding him like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do. Jungkook growls in response and his hands crawl up your spine until he’s able to grasp your hair between his fingers. As you speed up and force your thighs down harder, his dick expands your hole and creates harsh friction along your gummy walls. Each time your pubic bones meet, the fullness he provides steals your breath away. Although you’re honestly too busy kissing him to bring oxygen into your lungs, anyway. 

When you finally do inhale, purely for your own survival, Jungkook seizes the opportunity to greedily kiss across your tits, coating your flesh in his shiny saliva. 

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he mumbles into your skin before taking a nipple into his mouth.

His teeth scratch the pebbled skin to make you whimper before flicking his tongue a couple times, giving the same treatment to your other boob, only with his fingers. He suckles the nub with a satisfied groan while you attempt to maintain your rhythm, which isn’t easy when your brain is short circuiting. 

“Jun – Jungkook, holy shit, you’re so fucking big.” you nonsensically praise him.  

You feel the vibrations from his happy chuckle against your other breast now that he’s switched sides to smear more spit on you.  

The energetic cadence is making your legs go numb, but you can’t imagine stopping even with the ache in your thighs. This moment is far too heavenly, and you’ll willingly lose all feeling in your limbs before letting it go. Thankfully, Jungkook can tell by your faltering hips that you need assistance, so he plants his feet and fucks up into your cunt like a madman.

“Oh, my God!” You screech.

Holding onto his chest in desperation, you involuntarily give him full control because there’s no way you can match his monstrous pace. He’s sending his cock so deep inside you that you worry about the survival of your guts. He fills you up and fucks you so good it feels like you’re choking on him despite his length being far from your throat. 

“Come for me, gorgeous,” he begs. “Please, I’ve been dreaming about feeling you squeeze my cock again.”

“I’m so close.”

Jungkook uses your confirmation as fuel to shift into overdrive on your already battered pussy, utilizing all his energy to bring you the most euphoric high. Your third orgasm of the night takes the fucking cake, a shrill scream coming from you as you soak his dick with cum. He animalistically growls at the feeling of your cunt tightening around him like a vice, the pulsing of your walls sending his eyes into his skull.

You collapse on his chest, panting and whining as the aftershocks course through you. He slows the thrusting of his hips, but doesn’t stop completely so he can still gently fuck you through the high. 

“Feel good?”

All you can do is nod against his sweaty skin, far too deep into subspace to verbally reply. 

“Want you to come, too,” you whisper while looking up at him.

He smiles down at you and plays with your hair where it rests on his collarbone.

“I will, beautiful, just not yet,” he softly replies.

The two of you separate your sticky bodies and turn to Namjoon, who looks supremely satisfied with your passionate display. 

Once your eyes are on him, he removes his shirt to join his pants on the floor, revealing his chiseled torso. It’s borderline unfair that these two absolute specimens wound up as best friends. Although, you suppose that’s true for everyone other than you, since you’re currently reaping the benefits of their friendship.  

“What’s next?” He questions while standing and moving towards the bed.

“I believe that’s up to the lady.”

“Well, I have two holes for a reason,” you respond automatically.

The sensual gleam in their eyes when they smirk at each other lights a fire in your belly. 

“Who do you want where?” Jungkook asks.

You stand to examine the large mattress while pondering his question, looking between the two men as you imagine the different possibilities. Without another word, you grab Namjoon by the arm and guide him to lay on his back in the center of the bed. Jungkook stands without being told, curiously watching you complete the mental puzzle. You catch his gaze over your shoulder with a smirk of your own when you come to your final conclusion.

“I’ll ride Joonie while you fuck my ass,” you nonchalantly answer like it isn’t the filthiest thing to ever leave your mouth. 

You and Jungkook have had anal sex a couple dozen times over the years, so it seems reasonable for him to take that position rather than introduce someone new to your tight hole.

Namjoon laughs cheerfully from his place on the bed, tucking his hands behind his head with a content smile.

“That sounds fucking perfect to me.” He nods towards Jungkook. “You good with that?”

Jungkook clicks his tongue while tilting his head.

“What was it you said earlier?” He points to you. “What a stupid fucking question?” 

Namjoon rolls his eyes at the sarcastic response, but they share a laugh, anyway.

The air is still with heavy anticipation before the three of you begin maneuvering into the right positions. Jungkook steadies you by holding your waist as you straddle Namjoon’s hips, following closely behind and planting his knees on either side of his friend’s thighs. His hand massages your shoulders and spine as you spit on Namjoon’s cock and stroke him into the perfect seat for you. The older man groans when he feels your hand working him again, but the sound becomes a gasp as you slowly sink down and bring his thick length into your pussy.

“Ah, shit,” he curses. 

His hands find your hips as his eyes focus on the spot where your bodies connect. 

“That feel good, Joonie?” 

You bat your eyelashes at him in total faux innocence.

“Oh, baby, you’ve got no fucking clue. You’re so fucking wet and tight that you could drive a man crazy with this cunt,” he answers. 

“She has,” Jungkook notes.

A deep blush paints across your chest, neck, and cheeks at their compliments. 

When your hips instinctively rise, Jungkook squeezes your shoulder in protest.

“Don’t move yet,” he instructs behind you. 

He bends your upper body towards Namjoon with a hand between your shoulder blades, giving him access to your asshole. You hear him spit before his wet thumb meets your rim as he works your puckered hole open. The feeling of him playing with you while Namjoon’s cock throbs inside your pussy is catastrophic, and Jungkook only furthers your torment by opening his palm in front of your mouth.

“Spit.”

When you immediately comply, his chest rumbles with laughter against your back before you hear the sound of him lubricating his cock with your saliva. After he fucks his fist a couple times, his soaked tip replaces his digit and gently nudges your hole.

“I’m alright,” you assure him when he doesn’t push in. 

There’s a tender kiss placed on your shoulder as Jungkook moves his hips forward and you feel the unmistakable stretch of him entering your ass. The penetration feels significantly tighter than times prior, partially because it’s been a while, but mostly because your pussy is already full from Namjoon. Their dicks are buried inside your holes with only a thin wall of muscles between them, creating an immense pressure in your core that is inexplicably greater than any sensation you’ve felt in the past. 

You feel outrageously stuffed by the two large cocks and there’s been no movement yet, so you can only imagine how tantalizing it will feel when they tandemly fuck you open. 

“Goddamn.” Jungkook’s forehead meets your shoulder as he takes deep breaths. If the feeling is this tight for you, it must be unbelievable for them. “This is fucking incredible.”

“You’re telling me,” Namjoon replies from beneath you. 

Jungkook’s sweaty chest is pressing on your back while you’re leaning over Namjoon and vehemently gripping his pecs. In fact, you’re in the perfect position for him to have ideal access to your breasts as they swing just above his chin. 

“Everyone ready?” Namjoon nods assuredly as you maintain eye contact with him. You check with Jungkook over your shoulder and he gives you the same response. “Well, please don’t break me, I guess.”

The mischievous laughter surrounding you leads you to believe they will not be heeding said warning. 

“On three?” Jungkook asks.

“One… two… three,” Namjoon counts as your nervous system drowns in anticipation. 

They move seamlessly and simultaneously; Namjoon lifts your hips while Jungkook rears away from your ass, leaving only the head of their cocks inside you before they push in together. You scream so loud you worry the entire floor will hear, and Jungkook must agree because his hand clasps over your mouth to muffle the bloodcurdling noise. 

Hot tears of pleasure are already rolling down your cheeks as they harmoniously leave you empty only to return again at a devilish pace. The two of them have impeccable teamwork, their cocks nearly working as one to fuck you stupid. It’s incomparable to anything you’ve ever experienced before, the double penetration sending your entire being into an abyss of ecstasy. 

Jungkook’s free hand wraps around your waist to hold you against him as he watches your asshole stretch around his length. Namjoon continues moving your hips for you to bring himself deep inside your pussy with each bounce. It seems your sole responsibility is to merely take the sensual abuse of your holes while screaming and crying into Jungkook’s palm. 

“Jesus, this feels fucking phenomenal,” Namjoon moans.

Jungkook doesn’t verbally concur, but you feel him nod in agreement behind you. His grunts of pleasure are happening right against your ear and the sound is pure, sinful music to your ears. 

You think your muted screams do a sufficient job at capturing the sensation of their cocks pistoning into you together, but if you attempt to use words, the only comparison would be drowning and burning at the same time. Jungkook’s presence in your ass lights your entire system ablaze, each pulse sending ripple upon ripple of fire through you. While Namjoon continuously hitting your cervix with his cock brings tsunami size waves crashing over you. Their bodies feel like two halves of a whole, the jaw dropping motions complimenting each other as though they were meant to be experienced as one. 

Namjoon begins kissing your breasts and even relinquishes his hold on your hips to play with the fatty flesh, bringing stimulation to every erogenous zone at once. 

“Joon, can you feel me the way I can feel you?”

“Mmhm.” 

His reply is quiet due to his face being stuffed between your tits. 

“Fuck, I’m losing my mind,” Jungkook notes.

You certainly understand the sentiment. It feels as though their cocks are right up against each other inside you, so you imagine the sensation is mutual even though they’re in separate spaces. Their minds seem to sync up as well, because they amp up their speed and force at the same moment, causing you to accidentally bite down on Jungkook’s hand due to the sheer intensity of the change. 

He hisses in response, his hand venturing down to wrap around your throat instead. His fingers apply light pressure to the sides of your neck and he eventually starts kissing the skin just above his hand. The gentle affection of his lips in comparison to his dick splitting you apart makes your head spin. You reach back to hold his head in place, lacing your fingers into his soft hair and pulling on the strands until he groans into your skin, meaning the hand still resting on Namjoon is the only thing keeping you upright.

Namjoon is kissing and sucking on your boobs while Jungkook continues caressing your neck with his mouth. Couple that with the large hand choking you and the two cocks inside you and you’re heading straight for the milky way.

“You two… oh… holy fuck…” 

It would be inconceivable to produce a full sentence at the moment, and the weak, stuttering curses you manage are practically incoherent. 

Jungkook laughs into your skin, leaving you with a final peck. 

“Yeah? It feels that good, beautiful?”

You have no clue how he can speak clearly when all his energy is being utilized by his hips ramming into your ass. 

“Yes,” you meekly answer.

His lips come to your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine as his tongue licks along your earlobe.

“This tight little hole is still mine, isn’t it? Your pussy, too. Bet no one’s touched you like I have,” he whispers. A mindless nod is all you grant him, but his grip around your throat tightens when you don’t answer him. “I want you to tell me yourself.”

“No one,” you gasp. The hand in his hair returns to Namjoon’s chest so you can steady yourself. “I haven’t let anyone touch me since you, Jungkook.”

A satisfied growl vibrates against your ear.

“More.”

“My pussy, my ass, my whole body is yours,” you state, despite your best interest. “It has always been.”

“And always will be?”

At the same time he speaks, he demonically thrusts into your ass and you cry out as your head falls to his shoulder. 

“Yes, yes, yes, always!”

“There’s my girl,” he affirms with a sharp bite to your cartilage. 

Namjoon is still tweaking your nipples either with his hands or mouth, alternating every couple minutes to give them equal attention. He laps at them with his moist tongue before going in slow circles and scraping his teeth over the skin, effectively making your nipples oversensitive, which only heightens the pleasure you feel as he plays with them. His mouth is comfortingly warm and you adore the feeling of him licking across your tits as he fucks you. 

The twitching cocks you feel in both your pussy and ass is evidence enough that the two men are close to finishing, their heavy balls slapping against your skin in time with their thrusts providing further proof. Your own climax is peering just around the corner and you start fucking yourself on their shafts at the same cadence as them to bring your end closer.

All three of your voices fill the space with nonsensical moans as your orgasms race towards the finish line together. 

“Can I come inside you, baby?” Namjoon asks. 

His dick feels so perfect within your cunt that you can’t imagine telling him no and not allowing him to paint your insides white.

“Please,” you answer.

You want Jungkook to blow his load inside you, too, hoping he’ll fill your ass up so much it drips out and soaks your thighs in his seed. 

“Shit, you ready to make a fucking mess of her, Joon?” Jungkook asks across staccato grunts.

“Never been more ready in my goddamn life.”

Jungkook reaches around to play with your clit after Namjoon’s confirmation so you all come at once and it only takes another minute of your bodies working in tandem for the three of you to reach an unexplainable high together. 

“Jesus, fuck –” Namjoon chokes.

“Holy fucking shit,” Jungkook gasps. 

It’s astonishing to think you could feel any more full, but once the seed spills from their cocks into your respective holes, you truly believe they’ll rip you apart right down the middle. 

Namjoon is fucking his cum into your pussy with deep, deliberate strokes and sending his semen so far into your womb you feel thankful for birth control. Similarly, Jungkook continues forcing his hot seed into your ass even once it begins leaking out and drenching his dick. 

“Oh, oh fuck,” you whine as your own orgasm makes your cunt pulse around them. 

It’s easily the messiest thing you’ve ever experienced, with the fusion of all three essences endlessly spilling out and pooling in your conjoined laps. 

“Damn,” Jungkook curses while falling limp against your back.

You’re all breathless by the time their movements cease. Your body is keeping their softening cocks warm during the come down and you wonder what being empty will feel like after being stretched so wide.

“Fucking insane,” Namjoon comments, making you and Jungkook chuckle weakly.

Jungkook is the first to move and even though he carefully pulls out, more of his cum drips from your ass and soils the sheets. Once he’s free from the dogpile, you gradually move to a kneeling position before flopping onto the mattress beside Namjoon while Jungkook occupies his opposite side. 

“I gotta thank whoever leaked gas in this fucking hotel,” Jungkook states. 

“I’ll be right there with you,” Namjoon adds. 

You're positive you would laugh at their comments if you weren't the most tired you've ever been in your life.

“C’mon, let’s get you into something comfortable,” Jungkook announces.

After four orgasms and both your holes being jackhammered open, you don’t know if anything but a nice, warm bath will bring you comfort. Although, Jungkook bringing a large shirt over your head and pulling your hair out from where it’s trapped beneath the hem is definitely close. 

“Thank you,” you murmur as your head falls forward until it meets his abdomen. 

His fingers gently comb through your hair and your eyes shut with a content hum, the familiar, soothing motions nearly putting you to sleep. You feel the bed dip when Namjoon stands and the sudden movement makes you pull back and survey your surroundings.

“Are you okay?” 

You meet his concerned gaze and nod.

“I’m fine, Jungkook, just still coming back to earth,” you explain. 

“Let me clean you up,” he says.

You don't reject his assistance even though you absolutely should. Instead, you lay back again and appreciate the feeling of Jungkook delicately cleaning up between your legs and down your thighs.

There's movement going on behind your eyelids, and you figure it's because Namjoon is setting up the pull out bed, which you hear him lay down on with a groan afterwards.

“As long as you’re okay with it, we can share the bed,” Jungkook offers.

You’re too tired to worry about the implications of sleeping in the same bed together. So, you nod and reach your arms up, letting him pull you up bridal style so he can tuck you in before joining you a fair amount away, which you appreciate given the circumstances.

Sleep welcomes you into her embrace before you even have the chance to overthink anything.

Their voices pull you from slumber some hours later and your eyes struggle to open as light shines in through the large windows.

If the original prediction of twenty four hours is still correct, you must have at least another twelve to go based on the sun’s position in the sky. 

“Morning, sleeping beauty,” Namjoon says when he notices you’re awake. 

“Hi,” you croak. All your screaming and moaning from the night prior clearly took a toll on you. “How are you guys doing?”

“Us?” Jungkook laughs.

You involuntarily smile at the sound of his happiness. 

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to walk, to be honest,” you respond. 

To prove your point, you attempt to stand and the ache between your legs nearly sends you toppling backwards into the mattress. Both men giggle at your baby deer stance and you shoot them a menacing glare.

“Need help?” Jungkook asks with a sly grin. 

It would be far too embarrassing to accept, so you just take small, measured steps to the bathroom to freshen up. Jungkook lets you borrow a pair of sweatpants and the three of you eat from the mini fridge as a pseudo breakfast before chatting about current events and pop culture as the hours steadily tick by. 

As it turns out, the lockdown does end early, with the total time being about eighteen hours. It leaves you with plenty of time to get ready for the rehearsal dinner tonight, which Hoseok confirms is still happening via a Facebook post.

Jungkook offers to walk you back and even though your room is only ten doors down, you say yes without much deliberation. He also refuses to accept his clothes and orders you only return them once they've been washed, his obvious attempt at ensuring you see each other again after the wedding.

You thank Namjoon for his services and he reciprocates the gratitude before you and Jungkook leave side by side. The short walk happens in comfortable silence and when your hands accidentally brush, you don’t question Jungkook’s actions as he catches your hand and laces his fingers with yours. 

Once you reach the hotel room, you drop his hand and turn to say goodbye, but Jungkook beats you to the punch.

“Are you gonna save a dance for me tomorrow?” He asks with a saccharine grin.

The eye roll is instantaneous.

“I’ll think about it,” you respond. 

Before you’re able to key inside, Jungkook grabs your face and kisses you with enough force to push you into the wooden door. Your surprised screech turns into a soft moan as you allow his tongue to dance with yours in your mouth. Your hands subconsciously rise to hold his jaw as you shamelessly make out in the hallway, neither of you caring about the possibility of other guests seeing you.

Jungkook is chasing your mouth like he could do it forever and you have zero complaints, feeling nothing but content as your lips move in lackadaisical circles together. His thumbs caress your cheekbones as you kiss and with your eyes closed, you can almost imagine you’re back home in your shared apartment. 

When your mind finally catches up to reality, you pull back and push at his shoulder to create some space between your heads.

“What was that?”

Your ex looks the happiest you've seen him all weekend.

“Just wanted to give you something to think about,” he replies. 

Your eyes roll again, but this time there’s affection for the man before you written all over your face. You tap your keycard to open the door and slip inside without another word, but turn around at the last minute with a smile.

“See you later, Googie.”

“Bye,” Jungkook waves. 

It’s only once the lock clicks that Jungkook realizes what you called him, and as soon as he does, he pumps his fist in a silent victory cheer. He starts laughing to himself like a total maniac outside your door and he even does a heel-click jump out of pure excitement while walking back to his room.

You don’t witness any of his celebrations, but the sentiment is shared between you nonetheless. 

-> Harmonious Agreement

taglist: @lovingkoalaface @joonlover1207 @goldenko-97

[1nthedarknessofthenight]

﴾ got what you need

pairing: yang jeongin x f!reader

genre: one-shot, idol au, smut

word count: 10,9K

warnings: dom!jeongin & sub!reader ⋆ biting! ⋆ marking! ⋆ hand! & mouth!kink ⋆ hair!pulling ⋆ choking! ⋆ finger!sucking ⋆ katoptronophilia! (arousal of doing sexual activities in front of a mirror) ⋆ almost getting caught ⋆ small!manipulation, gaslighting and corruption ⋆ dirty talk ⋆ clit!play ⋆ overstimulation ⋆ squirting! ⋆ fingering (f.receiving)

summary: you always noticed them — his hands, big, fingers long and slender, so veiny, that you could feel every single one of them pressing against your skin…you tried so hard not to act on your own inner desires, but as more things started to happen, your control over your body began to waver — and you weren’t the only one

main masterlist

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He doesn’t even know what he is doing to you. Your lips fall apart, your own fingers grazing over your lips, face, trailing lower and lower, imagining they were his instead. With every simple move of his hand — gripping, holding, touching or even just extending — with every look, every fleeting glance, your whole body shakes from the inside, mind turning to mush. You tried to stop, feeling so awful after every single thought of his hands, but nothing was enough to keep you from denying yourself the small pleasure of even trailing your eyes trail over them. His hands — so big, so strong, fingers long and thin, veins pressing against his skin every time he so much as grazes over something, rings glimmering at you teasingly. You can’t stop yourself — not now, when you have finally, just barely, started to feel them pressing against you.

Jeongin…when you first met him, he was shy — always wearing a sweet smile on his face that deepened into the cutest dimples. That is how you remember him and that is what you thought he is always like. You still remember how your own anxiety radiated off you at the thought of meeting your best friend’s friends. However Felix, being his bubbly self, did everything he could to make feel comfortable — comfortable enough that you eventually started coming to their practice from time to time. At first, you didn’t want to get to know them, mostly of the fear that they might not like you, but that fear faded quickly, forgotten the first day you ever spent with them.

Like Felix, they all were nice to you. Some more quiet than the others, but they always intended to make you comfortable and included — from Chan, making you feel included in every conversation, to Minho making sure your plate is always full, to Changbin always putting smile on your face with his stupid jokes, to Hyunjin who you share your love for art with, to Han who secretly shares his sweets with you, to Seungmin whose bickering and nagging keeps you occupied most of the time, but with his and all of your new friends’ doings, it still couldn’t make your attention even a little waver away from him.

He is all the same — quiet, but after some time you have realized that maybe it is just you. With the others he is open, he is more himself and you? You keep your eyes on him. The beginnings were difficult for everyone — always careful with their words and actions, till they finally saw the small weight on your shoulders fall off. You didn’t even realize how truly you were nervous around them, but they actually were just acting careful around you, so they wouldn’t scare you off. Even him, but with him, you have never truly got close enough.

You were staring, awfully so and you wonder how the others didn’t picked up on it yet or even him. Maybe somehow they did, maybe they just didn’t want to embarrass you, or maybe they were just clueless. He was nothing, but kind to you, walking around you slowly like in waiting, but you always did nothing, but stare. He also, not like the others, didn’t touch you — not even a slight push nor a hug. You do know about his small dislike of someone touching him and you do respect it, keeping your hands to yourself, while also imagining what it would feel like to have his on your skin.

You wonder if he maybe did notice your eyes on him, nonmoving, glaring, but after some time you started to notice the small changes between you two. You don’t remember, when it was the first time you truly noticed them, but you do remember the time, when he got you a drink you have requested. You remember how his fingers wrapped around the cold can, leaving small imprints — you remember, when you went to take it, your own fingers didn’t even reach where his once were. Even just this lingering memory makes you shake, air getting stuck in your throat. Such a small gesture — simple, but it meant so much more for you. It also fully started your little obsession, with his hands.

You have never touched them, not even that time, too careful and trying to be respectful and with that you never truly appreciated, how nice his hands are. You for quite a while didn’t even realize yourself how much time you have spent looking at them. You always liked hands, you even had a particular picture of perfect pair of hands and he had them. It is almost one of the first things you notice on a person and not just in a certain way — how they hold a pen, phone or even how they squeeze at you, when you go shake your hand with theirs. However there was also a one way you like them the most — how they would hold you, grip at you or even pinch you. You didn’t want to think about him and his hands in that way, because you thought it was wrong, even pinching yourself every time it crossed your mind. Your skin was tender at the end of the day and even the slight sting couldn’t stop you and at one particular night, when you were on the brink of sleep, you decided to not hold yourself off any longer.

Your mind was already fuzzy, exhausted. You could feel the world around you turning into black spots before your very eyes, but you knew that it mostly wasn’t from the need for sleep. You couldn’t close your eyes, mind swirling, thoughts a mess, before every black spot before you formed into one solid picture. Him — right on top of you, caging you, body pressed against yours. His hands — trailing over your body, gripping, pinching your skin between his fingers. Your breathing has turned into quiet gasps as you followed his imaginary movements with your own hands. Oh, how would they feel running through your hair. How his fingers would pinch lightly at your peeks. How would he use them on you — pushing, scissoring, moving so fast, curling just right, till they reach the one delicious spot inside you and you just know it would be so good. He would know perfectly what to do to you — you would let him do anything and everything to you…You would let him wrap his hands around you, till your skin would turn tender. You would let him wrap them around your neck, your hips, your thighs, everything. You would let him fuck you onto his fingers, cunt leaking all over him, squeezing tightly, because you knew it would be too delicious to stop…You are a mess and a one thing that didn’t help was that he had finally started to feel comfortable around you.

You felt so dirty, yet you couldn’t stop, not when the thought of your hands replaced by his brought you to such ecstasy that it made your eyes roll back into your head. When he for the first time touched you — shivers of delight ran down your spine, world around you swirling. It was so simple again, but it being him was everything, but that. Shock — sparks alighting on the spot and you did nothing, but stare dumply at him, yet again he didn’t seem to notice.

One day, when you were outside in a small garden, it had happened. That night was warm, small wind blowing through your hair as you so desperately tried to put them behind your ear to take a small bite of Minho’s amazing cooking. You were frustrated, huffing lightly as your hand came to wrap around the small strand of hair, that kept getting inside your mouth every time you would try to take a bite. You were almost ready to rip it out of your head, till you felt a small graze of fingers against your temple and like your body knew, you froze. Standing before you, looking down at you, was Jeongin and for a split second you caught his gaze — staring, he was staring right at you…your lips. The food in your spoon almost fell off, watching him slowly and precisely put your stubborn hair behind your ear, before turning back around to the conversion he was having with Hyunjin, like nothing had happened.

Like he didn’t just touch — like he didn’t do something so intimate, right in front of the others, like he didn’t just stare at your lips….

Your appetite didn’t return, it just turned into something way more different. The first time he ever laid his hands on you…Maybe you were thinking too much, but you never have felt such a rush, when Felix did it for example. So simple, yet not. For the rest of that night, like every other, you couldn’t stop looking, thinking, dreaming about those hands. Everything he did with them was something so mesmerizing and you were absolutely smitten. That night is treasured deeply in your heart and how much you didn’t expect him to do it again and again.

You tried to keep your distance, even if it didn’t mean much since you kept looking at how his fingers moved — so elegantly that you truly couldn’t do anything about your staring, but he…he seemed to only move closer and closer to you since than. When he first sat beside you, your body almost froze, like you were certain a small move would make him move away. Maybe you did want that in some way, because his whole presence made your mind shut off — mumbling, muscles spasming yet frozen and you truly wonder how you could even press down on the buttons of the controller you were holding. The game you were playing with Felix was quickly forgotten, his whining and shouting, nothing but a background noice, but one sentence ringed in the air.

“Let me try.”

Your head didn’t turn to him, body so still you didn’t know if you should just fall over so the ground could swallow you whole. He never truly spoke to you and you have to wonder again how is it that he has you wrapped around his finger this much…that’s right his finger, the one touching yours. Your eyes stared down on the controller in your hands as he came to grab it from your grasp, hands momentarily wrapping around yours. His hands — so big and warm were almost galloping yours and you couldn’t fight against the small sigh leaving you. His touch was again so brief that you thought it was just your wild imagination, but it did happened and you did find the last bits of strength to look up at him.

He was smiling, dimples showing seemingly sweet, but something in his eyes flickered briefly, when he trailed his gaze over your features before looking away. You were a mess, truly a mess and there is no other word better to describe yourself. Since than he did so many things with his hands, when he was near you — hands running through his hair, till you got a whiff of his lingering shampoo, his fingers tugging at the zipper of his hoodie, tapping against the glass of his drink, fingers pressing against his lips, when he was deep in thought and every time you looked — every time you noticed how his head would slightly tilt into your direction and every time you looked away in shame. Every time your eyes met his, you naively thought he was only glancing your way, only looking at his new friend — but, oh…how wrong you were.

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Sweat — rolling down their flushed skin, chests rising in deep, rigid breaths, that you mirror lightly in your own way. You can see the exhaustion dripping off them, heads rolling back, muscles jumping, joints shaking as they slump down to the ground. You don’t know for how long you have been here, how long you have been lost in thought, but it was enough for them to feel their bodies screaming for relief. You tried to helped them the best you could, but you yourself didn’t see why you were even needed here in the practice room. Felix and the others, thought of you as a thing to lean on, a support and what kind be friend would you be not to stay…Even if you were just sitting on the couch watching — watching him.

Your best friend startles you a little, pulling you out of your thoughts as he flops down next to you, huffing, stretching. “Man, I am so tired–“ Felix whines to no one particular. However you do smile a little, when he turns to you to jokingly pout, before his lips part again to blow out puffs of air.

“We should take a break.” Says Chan, nodding at everyone, seemingly exhausted as well. The new comeback was a weight on everyone’s shoulders right now — nonstop practicing, trying to get perfect their dances that were already flawless. You had thought that maybe your presence might distract them somehow. However to them you were a calm presence, a shoulder to lean on. What they didn’t seem to realize, though, is that it was quite the opposite for you. It felt like torture in a sense…watching sweat drip down his face, trailing down his neck, pulling at his thin t-shirt in attempt to cool down a little, hearing the heavy breaths escape him between takes, the deep frown of concentration etched on his face as he danced.

You are more quiet than usual, fidgeting with your own hands, as your eyes travel from him to the others — no use whatsoever, because you still found yourself looking at him as he goes to sit down on the floor. “Want something to eat, before we continue?” Asks Chan, voice breathy and his question is already being answered by series of agreements.

You don’t know what time it is now, but you do feel small specks of exhaustion settling over you too. Still, as always, your mind and heart ignore the rest of your body, too occupied with the view infront of you. Jeongin had you mesmerized by his smooth movements, hair now slightly damp from the hours of practice and you couldn’t help, but wonder how much time had passed to get him like this — body sprawled over the floor, elbows holding his upper body up as he leaned back into the couch. Every time he would take a breath, his dark t-shirt would cling onto his chest. His head is rolled back, giving you a view of his long neck, your eyes following the prominent vein peaking from beneath the thin skin, Adam’s apple bobbing, looking good enough to bite and his hands…they keep twitching, like tapping into the rhythm of the music that already had stopped playing minute ago. You are distracted again, so much you don’t feel or hear the others moving around the room.

“Innie-ah, you coming?” Asks Hyunjin and that makes you turn away from him to the others, who look at their dark haired friend, who is still sitting on the floor. You don’t even realize, that they already moved to go get some food, your eyes meeting Felix’s and you do know he could see the way yours widened at the next words.

“No–“ Says Jeongin and you already feel a lump forming in your throat at the answer as he doesn’t even take a move to go with them. “Just buy me whatever.” He waves his hand lightly, your eyes flickering over the room back to him and you almost crumble, when he meets you in the middle.

You can feel the others now looking at you too in a silent question, which should be simple to answer in a sense, but you can’t help but almost stutter. You will be alone…alone with him, if you don’t go and you don’t know if you want that. No, you feel like your body needs that — feeling his and his presence only caging you in and the thought makes your seemingly exhausted body wake up from any kind of slumber it was in. Your body and heart speaks for you, but your mind screams at your answer.

“I don’t want anything — I will just wait here.“

Everything was said so fast and collected, but your gaze didn’t waver from his, because you physically couldn’t look away. You watch his eyes narrow a little, fingers twitching again and like a fly you follow the movement, almost blacking out at that, because he just saw you. He was you definitely looking and if you hadn’t turned away as if the sight of his hands physically burned you, it might have not look so obvious. You curse at yourself silently in your mind, glancing at the others, who nod at you in acknowledgment, before taking their leave and just as their presence started to fade, you feel his grow heavier — expanding, filling the space around you.

You are choking, thoughts a mess and for the first time you don’t think about anything and you just feel. You don’t hear, but feel the doors closing, the distancing footsteps, the way his breathing levels, the way his muscles stretch, when he goes to take a sip of his water. The way his fingers scrunch up the water bottle…You want to cry, scream, anything, because you don’t even recognize yourself anymore. You have never been so smitten, so mesmerized by someone and the worst part is that he might never know…

Jeongin swallows the last bits of water, before looking at you. Your legs are pushed up to your chest, sitting in the far corner of the couch, like you wanted to make yourself as small as possible. The dimmed light highlights the small frown on your face, watching silently, how you fumble with your fingers. It was quiet, nothing, but the small rustles of fabric from him, when he moves to stretch a little and the small hum of the air conditioning in the room. The small cold breeze does nothing for your heated skin, eyes looking down at nothing in particular, silently counting the seconds. You are pathetic — finally you have him alone with you and you can’t even do anything about it. You don’t even know what would you say…you don’t even know, if you are even capable of ever voicing your words out loud.

You don’t know if it is just you again, who feels the tension in the room, but you do feel how he suddenly turns his attention to you. You don’t move, his stare piercing through your body in a way that it is almost impossible for you to look back at him. You have no shield, no excuse — you can look at him, you are just not sure if you are capable of normally, without your emotions reflecting in your eyes. However you do see him from the corner of your eye stand up, pushing down his sweatpants that had ridden up his long legs. “Want some?” His voice cuts through the thick air and you can’t do anything, but nervously look up at him to know what he is asking.

In his hand is his now empty water bottle, fingers digging into the plastic little deeper than it is necessary. Your eyes meet his only, because he moves his occupied hand to his face to lightly flick off a small drop of sweat running down his jaw. At that you notice how your closed up throat is screaming in thirst, nodding slowly in plea, too scared to even open your mouth to speak. Jeongin mimicks you, before walking up to the small table in the corner of the room. You wonder why you both not just ignore each other, scrolling away on your phones before everyone gets back — you soak in each other’s presence.

You follow his every move, suddenly so confident with his back turned to you, watching muscles rip under his thin t-shirt. Everything goes slow around you, yet too quick at the same time, body twisting a little, when he turns back to you to give you your water. Your muscles spasm, legs falling down the couch in a sound way too loud in the silence of the room and you can’t help, but cringe at everything you are doing right now. You feel exposed under his eyes, even if he is just looking, even if his stare is always seemingly so nerve racking.

Jeongin stops right in front of you, making your frown disappear from your face so quickly you almost have a whiplash. Right before you is your water bottle, his hand wrapped around it — you go grab it slowly and unsurely. You keep your face straight as best as you can, but how can you, when your hand touches his…the reason you are so miserable. His skin is cold, kissed by the dripping water and you follow it, till it falls off the tip of his finger. You don’t know if you are moving so slow just to not crumble, hand lingering on his second too long that it seems intentional. However his touch — before you can melt into the leather couch any further is gone as his hand falls back to his side.

You feel your heart shatter not just from that, but also because you notice how your hands shake a little as you go to take a sip. The cold water though does nothing too ease your inner thirst, not when he is still standing before you…You swallow a little too hard, carefully glancing at him from beneath your lashes and your lips are left parted at the sight of him towering over you. He was always a bit taller than you, but from this angle you are even more intimidated. When did he move so close? You almost feel the material of his sweatpants grazing over you and you don’t move away from it nor into it — you are completely still, staring at him and he does notice the inner battle reflecting in your eyes. There is no use, you don’t have the strength to fight your emotions right now.

“Something wrong?” He asks you, voice smooth as ever, loud around you. You are completely drowning in his presence alone. Your lips go to press against each other, but your mouth is left open again, when you catch him following the movement. Goosebumps rise on your skin, words getting caught in your throat again, so you just decide to just shake your head, even if you are lying. Everything is wrong — with you and your obsession, kink, to the way he stands before you, talks, moves. How does he do it?

Your eyes travel away from him, just for a second to atleast blink, because it seems you can’t even do that, but then shock fills you. The move so quick and smooth you feel your mouth drying again, when he suddenly takes the water from you. Pathetically you want to chase the feel of his skin again, but you only look up at him in bewilderment. The way his fingers grazed over yours leaves a permanent burning sensation, that sends your stomach spinning. It seemed like he used your disbelief of such act to move closer, because your knee touches his leg briefly, but that isn’t the thing that makes you almost fall into unconsciousness.

It is the way he puts the rim of the bottle against his own lips, tongue sticking out for a moment and you visibly shiver at the thought of it being your lips instead. He takes a long sip of water, some of it rolling down to his chin, neck bobbing again. The way he makes everything look so good, should be illegal. Your mind shatter again, because he is drinking from the same bottle as you — he could have take a new one for himself. You knew how he is, when people get close to him, how he slightly pulls away from an unexpected hug, even if there is a smile on his face. He is definitely not smiling now…he is watching you from behind your water, small breath falling from him as he goes to wipe away the spilled water from his pink lips. “Sorry, thirsty–“ He shrugged, like that move didn’t just make you form into a puddle.

“It’s okay.” You mumble so quietly you don’t even hear yourself. You watch him relax his arms by his sides, also noticing, how he holds to bottle just with his fingers. You don’t know where to look right now, small silence between you two, before he so suddenly smiles down at you, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, nor it does last long as he tilts his head at you.

It was a silent question and you answer it by another wave of silence, not really sure what to do — if you want him to leave or let him get even closer to you. The quiet makes it hard for you to breathe, his presence and stare only intensifying it. You can see his own unspoken words circling in his eyes, yours nonblinking so you wouldn’t seem like a bigger mess than you already are. With his head tilted down at you, the move making your heart skip a beat, his lips form into a small frown. “You are always so quiet, when I am around…Did I do something?” Jeongin sounds sad, eyebrows furrowing lightly and you do nothing, but panic a little.

“No!” You say, voice a little too loud, making heat rush to your cheeks. With your now wide eyes you watch his frown deepen even more and you curse yourself for being like this around him.

“Really?“ He says, pausing a little, features softening, but his eyes hardening. “Then why do you keep looking at me?” You pause, breathing becoming short as you stammer to answer. He is only meaning now — not every day, every moment…You are again lying to yourself, but you have to, otherwise you would probably die on the spot. However the way he said it…no.

“I don’t look at you.” That is the most vile lie you have ever said and you are still looking at him, while you said it. You feel the world closing on to you at the thought of him noticing your nonstop staring — that’s it, you are only allowed to look at him from afar. Admire him, thing you will propably never have, but in some way you do wanted him to notice. In some twisted way, you want him to punish you for it…

Jeongin only hums lowly at your answer, gaze leaving yours, like in deep thought, before he twists his body a little to put the bottle onto the table behind him. Why does it feel like he is waiting? Maybe to see if you will crack? What if he did notice and now he thinks you hate him or something? Your mind is running wild, so distracted that you see him moving in the mirrors surrounding you, way before you feel him.

He humms lowly again, before he goes to sit right next to you, body so close to yours you do a double take to make sure you are seeing right. In the mirror you see him looking at you, feeling the hard glare on the side of your face, but you don’t meet it. You are baffled by everything he did so far — so out of character, so different from the smiley Innie you knew. For a moment think you think, that are dreaming. That you are only imagining his side touching yours, feeling every breath he takes. The small spasm of muscle, when he twists his body to face you a little more. However you see it and feel it, everything is happening so fast you can’t do anything about it yet again. His reflection — the smell of his sweat mixed with his perfume sends you into overdrive and when you see him move his right hand to you…you are left speechless again.

You let him, really you can’t even fight it, because you have been thinking about his hands, his touch every night and every day and now…now his hand comes to put your hair behind your ear. It is the same as before, but now his touch seems to hold a meaning, hand lingering on the side of your face. You let him trace his fingers over your jaw, all the way down to your chin, but he doesn’t make you look at him. You only watch him through the mirror, like you are not ready to face this reality of him touching you so intensely. His hair hides his gaze on your lips, but you do feel it, lips parting in silent gasp as he moves his hand back to your hair. Goosebumps rise on your skin, shivering, when he presses over the skin behind your ear, before you see him leaning closer, hot breath fanning over your ear.

“I know.”

That word…that word makes you freeze in your spot, panic, fear and something more striking you, head snapping to face him. He is close — his nose almost touches yours if you wouldn’t back away in on an instinct. Jeongin’s face is calm, hint of a smile on his lips at your state as your mouth keeps closing and opening. “What-“ You are in denial somehow, only to calm yourself down, but is it even possible with him being so close to you? You watch him remove his hand, with watchful eyes and with that his smile only widens, while you feel a lump forming in your throat. His leg is pressed against yours, reminding you of how close he still is to you and you almost whimper at the confident look you are given — he knows.

“You think, I didn’t notice?” His tone isn’t sharp, but it still does make shame and embarrassment reach you, because you have been caught. Jeongin doesn’t seem to be angry nor disappointed and that makes it all too worst, because he must already know the answer to why exactly you have been watching him. “You stare at me every time I turn away — hoping I won’t catch you, but I always do. So tell me…why and what is it you are looking at?”

You are ashamed. He already knows, but he still wants you to say it. His face is so close to yours, hand on the back of the couch and you know that if you would try to move away he will catch you — there is no way out of this. Though you don’t have the strength to admit yourself yet. “Nothing…” You whisper, head low, while he tilts his again.

“Nothing?” He repeats and now you hear a small hint of dissatisfaction.

“I…I am just looking nothing more, I swear-“ Liar — you are a horrible liar.

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”

You have never heard such tone leaving his lips before and you wonder if he is turning angry only because you won’t say it. How can you? You have been caught, but it is not like you were subtle about your actions to begin with. You are embarrassed to be acting like that — so desperate and pathetic, but you can’t control your needs and desires. You feel almost on the brink of tears just from how ashamed you are and you want nothing more than to run and hide, so you do. However you are only quick enough to sit up, hands immediately finding you, pressing you back into the couch and you do gasp out loud at that.

He doesn’t remove his hands from your upper arms, hold strong enough for you to see there is no use trying to escape. His fingers dig into you hard, but it is everything, but painful. You are forced to meet his gaze again and you quiver at the glare he sends you. “Talk, Y/N — can you even do that?” Jeongin leans closer to you, making your back press into the cushion, while he almost hovers over your body.

You don’t know what to do — cry, scream? In embarrassment, pain, but mainly relief, because seeing him like this leaning over your body sends shivers down your spine. “I am sorry–“ You whisper, gasping lightly, when he suddenly releases you from one of his hands to press against the spot next to your head, leather squeaking under his weight.

“Sorry for what exactly?” You almost shake your head, because you don’t particularly know the answer. You are sorry for everything, yet not, because your actions leaded to this. You don’t take your eyes off each other, chests rising so wildly they almost meet. Something then flickers in his eyes, features softening just for you to notice the change. “Sorry, that you don’t talk to me like you do to others?” You blink at the change of tone a little, his words striking small confusion, but you are no fool — he is being manipulative and it is working.

“I was trying to be…respectful.” That word sits heavy on your tongue.

“Respectful…” He repeats after you again. You let him turn you into nothing by a mess beneath his hands, melting at the way his hand travels up your arm. “You and I both know there is nothing respectful between us–“ Your state — wide eyes, lips parted, skin heated — your state makes him melt a little too.

“Us?”

Jeongin is shaking on the inside, because he knew — he wanted you to say it so bad, his grip tightens over your collarbones, thumb pressing into the bone. “Tell me, Y/N. Why are ypu acting so different around me — and don’t tell me you were only looking. I can see you mouthing the words…what do you want?“ It’s a demand, perhaps a plea for you to stop acting innocent.

“I don’t–“

He tsks at you, frown falling over his face, growing frustrated. “Why are you so scared…Did I do something to upset you?” Jeongin says, quietly, sounding so sincere, you stutter.

“No!” It comes out broken, ending in a pathetic whine. You can’t breathe, because it would make you breathe him in too. You realize your state at that…You can’t hide any longer, there was no use even at the start of this. “It’s me…” You confess, not fully, but he sees the way the invisible shield before you crack enough for him to press against you more.

Your legs are pushing against each other, his hand griping on to the cushion next to your head, while the other slides over your arm back again. You watch his eyes turn dark, making you tremble beneath him. Jeongin’s breath mixes with yours, gaze piercing through yours, till it suddenly drifts to your mouth. “Then tell — tell me, what you want and I will give it to you.” His words are like honey, but you hear something, that makes you choke…desperation.

“I can’t–“ You can’t move, breathe, but you do feel him and it is becoming absolutely intoxicating.

“But you do want to–“ His eyes meet yours again, small silence falling between you after that. You don’t answer, because it is so obvious — you need it, want it, you are just not sure if you can handle it. Your body battles with your mind as his hand comes to caress the side of your neck. You whimper, the sound so loud in the silence and so raw you have to close your eyes. His fingers tickle you and your breath turns into gasp, when you feel him blowing air on to the thin skin of your neck. That sound sends sparks of pleasure up his spine. You are too into everything to notice the slight shake in his movements, while his next words bounce off your skin. “Do you want me is that it? Or do you just want my hands?”

You don’t recognize him, he is completely dripping in sin and you are eating every last bit of it. With his lips so close to your skin, your eyes flew back open, staring behind him at the reflection of you two. “I…I want–“ You are speechless, watching him pull away a little to meet your gaze again, heart hammering against your chest as he puts his hands around your back to pull you closer. “I want everything.”

“Then take it.”

You pull your hands away from your chest to press them against his instead, gasping lightly when you feel his heart. “Please–“ Your hands grasp at his t-shirt, making it slide down his chest a little and your simple plea makes him snap.

Jeongin knew — he knew from the beginning. How your lips fell apart every time he would look at you. How your body stilled, every time he was near you and how you stared at his hands and everything he does with them. He firstly thought he was imagining it, thinking maybe, that you are too shy to approach someone new to talk to them, but he quickly realized it — you didn’t want to just talk, you wanted something more, him. The idea corrupted him, the idea of his friend’s best friend being so smitten by him to the point you would fall down to your knees the second he would touch you. Like now — pulling you closer to his heated body, eyes falling to your lips, that were always so delicious to look at. He couldn’t take it anymore, he had to grasp the opportunity to finally talk to you, to feel you. He finally has you, where he wants and he wonders, what would Felix think about the way you are acting like now. So desperate, so his…

The racing thought, the realization that maybe somebody might walk in and caught you two in the act is something he never knew he wanted. His tongue swipes across his lips, mouth so close to yours now, that you feel it grazing you, your small gasp for air being then swallowed by his hungry mouth. It’s hard, all so knowingly desperate and he drinks your small sighs of pleasure with greediness. The feel of his lips finally on yours makes you delirious, letting your body fall onto his, lips pushing harshly against his. It is all spit, tongue and teeth, everything, but sweet, making your mixed drool roll down your chins. His hands roam then, sliding up your back, then down to your hips, before one of them tangles in your hair.

You cry out sharply, when you feel him tug at your roots, head rolling back, the new exposed flesh being immediately warmed by his mouth. Jeongin doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow down, running his lips over you — licking, sucking, nibbling and you let him take it all. “Finally you have said it–“ He mumbles across your skin, groaning into you. “If only you had said it sooner.”

“Jeongin–“ You yelp, when he suddenly bites the side of your neck, the pain quickly melting into pleasure. You panic, suddenly realizing your position and situation — the others can be back at any given moment, you know nothing about how far away they are and also their is a possibility of someone roaming around the building, even at this late hour. If someone wrong sees you, it would get you two into big trouble. However his kisses, touches quickly pull you out of your racing thoughts.

You trust him maybe more than you should, considering that you can feel the slight sting at the side of your neck. The small appearing mark doesn’t seem to stop him, it is completely the opposite. His hand finds the back of your neck, too weak to fight him, making him twist you to his liking. Jeongin licks a long straight line up your neck, before blowing cold air, sending shivers down your spine. You are already shaking, legs pushing against each other a little harder, smearing your already leaking juices. The action is not missed, hands falling to your thighs, pinching at your flesh. You are hot — sweat dripping down the side of your face, breathing fast. His mouth then meets yours again, in a kiss so sweet you can’t help, but whimper.

“Been thinking about your mouth for so long.” The confession makes you fist his t-shirt harder, almost ripping it. You feel yourself clenching over nothing, legs pressing against each other, his hands only increasing the pleasure.

Jeongin pokes his cheek with his tongue, breathing heavily through his nose as he leans away to look at you. Just your look — just your slick, puffy lips and glossy eyes make his cock twitch. The thought of you being so open for him like this, so trusting, is something that maybe he wants to show off. You are a problem…sweet, delicious, addicting, making him act like this, but it seems you are too drunk to even notice the effect you have on him. His fingers tug lightly at the material of your sweatpants, feeling the heat of your skin even through the layers of clothing. He watched you too — he thought about you and how you would look…Under him, on top of him, gasping, whimpering, pleading for more and more, till you are left crying in pleasure and overstimulation. He wondered how you would taste like. How you would sound like, when he would suck at your clit just right — he thought about your mouth and how it would be like to kiss you. How you would wrap your lips around his skin, his cock…His eyes then flicker to the closed doors briefly. He wanted you — all of you, but not right now. However he will give you exactly, what you want and need.

You are left puzzled for a moment, when he suddenly pulls away from you, feet hitting the floor. He sits back, lifting his lower half a little and at that you notice the outline of his cock pressing against his sweats. You bite your lip at the prominent outline of him, watching him spread his legs wider, before he lightly taps his thighs. “Come here–“ He says, leaning back onto the couch. Your desperation makes you not skip a beat, all shame leaving the room from seeing him worked up just like you are. You sit up, crawling your way up to him, but before you can sit, his hands find your hips. “No, like this.” His strength surprises you, letting him turn you around so your back faces him, lifting you up to sit you on his lap. You feel it — his chest rising under you, his breath on the side of your neck as he pushes your hair to the side, his cock pressing right against your ass as you come to sit between his open thighs. His lips find your skin straight away, hands running over your legs and you gasp lightly, when you suddenly lift your gaze to the mirrors infront of you, only finding him watching you the whole time. “I want you to see–“ Jeongin watches your eyes trace over his hands that lightly tweak at your thighs. “What exactly were you imagining?”

He wants you to say it, even if he knows it, even if he feels you shaking under his hands. Your eyes briefly close to savor the feeling, twitching on his lap, making you press your backside harder to his cock. You feel him chasing the feeling, hips lifting you up a little to make you bounce one more time. It makes you gush even more, legs opening and closing, trying to ease the ache between your legs. You are in haze, completely drunk of him and you don’t care about anything but his touch anymore. “Your hands on me…” You say, the confession making his hands stop at the waistband of your sweatpants, fingers grazing over your exposed skin.

His lips press against your skin, biting down a little, making you feel the smile on his face, before you even see it. The sight is so dirty — so everything, captivated by how his hand extends over your lower stomach. “Where?” Jeongin is teasing, getting off your frustration, watching a sweet frown fall on your face .

“Please, just–“ You move around on his lap, the another graze of your bottom half across his cock, making him hiss lightly, before you see him putting one of his hands back in your hair.

Jeongin tugs lightly, your head tilting to your shoulder, meeting his wild gaze in the mirror. “I can give you what you want, you just have to ask nicely.” You whine at that, few tears gathering in the corners of your eyes, glimmering in the soft light in the room.

You are done fighting against the last bits of your self respect, cunt clenching again, when his fingers on you travel lower, till you feel them dipping under your sweats. “Jeongin — I want your fingers, please–“ There is no time to waste if he wants to give you what you want and your sweet voice echoes around him like a siren.

He turns to look down at you, tugging your head so it faces his and he curses at the pout you give him. Your lashes are wet, bottom lip quivering and that action makes his eyes roll into the back of his head. “Fuck–“ He kisses you again, briefly yet messily, moaning with you as his tongue rolls against yours, before he pushes away again, small string of saliva connecting you two. Both of his hands find your waist again, rolling the soft material between his fingers, tugging a little. “Take these off.” Your skips a beat at his words, shaking hands finding his.

You pull your sweatpants off, with his help, lifting yourself up a little and as you kick them off your legs, sitting back again, the feel of his cock is much more intense than before. You gasp as he moves a little so he is right between your cheeks, eyes opening wide at the sheer size of him. Your eyes then meet his again, but now in the mirror, following his line of sight to the dark, wet spot on your underwear. “Look–“ You already are — watching him and his hands traveling down your legs, the feeling making you press against him even more.

His hands are hot and heavy, gripping at the meat of your thighs, when you just a little bit close them at the sight of your juices coating your skin. Your smell is intoxicating, the feel of you trembling just as his finger dips lightly inside your thighs is addicting. Jeongin is staring straight on the wet spot infront of your black panties, low light hitting your slick skin just right. You jerk at the first ever touch of his fingers — they press against you, right over your puffy clit, the small move more than enough to make you moan. “Fuck, you are dripping–“ You whimper in response, looking down at how his fingers are getting coated with your juices.

“More–“ You say, already loosing your mind at how his fingers just keep pressing and not moving. Your hole clenches at the thought his fingers dipping into you. Even though if your tone is whiny, borderline desperate he takes it in a way that makes him snap a little.

“Yeah? Want me to fuck you, with my fingers?” You are still having a whiplash from his sudden change of behavior, but you only lean more into it. You nod wildly, head turning to look at him, but his gaze doesn’t meet yours, because you suddenly feel him tugging at the flimsy material of your underwear. He pulls them to the side, making them snap a little when he releases them. Cold air kisses your slick cunt then, you shivering lightly, shaking, when his fingers just barely graze over you. You don’t even have time too look down, mind to hazy from the quick touch. You don’t even look, when one of his hands come to grip at the side of your neck — not when his other, coated with your juices comes to press against your lips.

“Open.”

Your lips fall apart in a gasp, making it for him all too easier to shove his two fingers inside your mouth, pressing them down at your tongue. Your mouth wraps around his digits instantly, sucking lightly the taste of your sweetness inside your mouth. But then you look — you see how his own eyes gloss over, mouth opening as you lightly bite down at the tips of his fingers. The look you give him makes his other hand travel to the front of your throat, making a loud sound escape you, when he suddenly rips his hand away from your lips, maneuvering your head back to face your reflection as he finally moves to touch you.

His already used hand comes to cup you, his palm digging into you, smearing your wetness all over your skin and his hand. “Soaked–“ Jeongin groans with you, hand on your throat squeezing a little and he can feel how that action makes your clit twitch under his fingers. Small, precise circles are made, him expertly moving the hood of your clit away to touch you more deeply — it is even better than you imagined. He is so mean about it too…Pressing you against his chest, with his hand on your throat, making you watch yourself in the mirror, while he plays with you. His rolls your bud between his fingers, pinching it lightly, the small pain just a low, addicting buzz. Your stomach twists, body burning and jerking over his cock, that he keeps pushing into you.

Your breathing is fast, matching his, eyes on yours reflection instead of looking down and the sight makes your stomach flip. It almost feels forbidden — you feel more exposed. Jeongin swipes his fingers over you, extending them to get every inch of you touched. He traces over your slit, each time his fingers dipping lower and lower, watching you clench over nothing. You feel blood rushing to your face, little bit self conscious of being in such exposing position and him still being clothed, while you are spread wide open, but everything is way too good to say anything about it. “So wet, that I could slide right in–“ You gasp when his ring and middle finger slide lower.

“Please — I want it–“ You keep repeating it, head rolling back to rest on his shoulder, but you only receive a tight squeeze to your throat.

“Then look.” You do — him helping you look back at your reflection, just as his fingers dig deeper into you. There is no resistance, you are so wet you can feel yourself dripping down on the couch. You twitch a little at the sensation, mind swirling. His long fingers slide inside you quick, too quick for you to breathe through it. However only your body knows its limits and you are not even surprised that you only suck them right in.

Jeongin is losing his mind over, how your velvety walls keep closing onto him — so soft and slippery. The thought of him sliding inside you instead is great, hips lifting both of your bodies in hopes he would get closer to your cunt, only making his fingers go deeper in you. You whimper, eyes almost closing at the way the tips of his fingers reach your cervix, palm of his hand grazing over your clit. His other fingers then hook around you, wrist twisting, before he starts to scissor his fingers inside you, searching. “You have touched yourself to this?” He mumbles lowly, lips against your neck. “You wanted this for so long, that you imagined it every time I would just barely touch you–“ No question — he knows.

“Wonder if I can make you squirt–“

A cry leaves you, when he suddenly at that curls his fingers inside you, palm moving against your clit. The idea of you doing that is unfamiliar. You have never done that, you have never even been close to it, but the way his fingers reach so easily to the one gummy spot inside you, tells you he might be able to do it way to easily. “Don’t stop — Jeongin-“ You moan his name, when he starts to trust his fingers inside you, curling them up each time they slide into you.

“You are…so–“ He is a little lost for words. The way your body reacts to his touch — hips lifting to chase his touch, your nails digging into his hand still holding your throat, though not clawing at it for him to stop — your other holding his, that keeps thrusting into you…He is drooling. Wet, nasty sounds fill the room, his fingers increasing on speed, but now more pushing against you so his palms keeps hitting your clit. You are moaning, gasping, music to his ears, however even if he knows that no one can hear you inside this room, he also knows that when you would go close enough to the door you could probably hear the filthy noises coming from you both.

Jeongin’s hand on your throat leaves you, making you gulp in air, but your mouth is only able to take in few breaths, before his hands clasps it. “Shhhh— you don’t want them to hear, right?” Your eyes widen at that, loud moans of pleasure turning into whimpers as you wildly shake your head. “Huh…still I bet you would like that–“ His words makes you clench down on his fingers, tips of them now just curling inside you, palm moving against you.

You are way too easy — you already feel you lower tummy rumbling in the way too familiar pleasure, moaning against his hand as he moves his other to push his thumb against you. You are starting be aware of everything around you — from the way he keeps whispering sweet, nasty nothings into your ear, hot air blowing against your skin. How he moans every time your hips press against his, how you both look like nothing, but sin in the mirror — where are you and what are you doing right now, knowing your friends might be back any minute. Your wildest dreams coming true — him fucking you with his delicious fingers, feeling every vein pressing against you…is all too much for your body to handle.

Then with one particular push of his thumb against your clit, fingers not losing any rhythm, scissoring, curling, you slide a little down on the couch. Your leaking cunt and sweat is making it too easy for you to slide off, but then his hand on your mouth comes to catch you before you could run away from the immense pleasure. He tsks again at your doings, small breath, like a laugh, leaving him, hand grasping your thigh, before hooking it around his. That only makes his fingers go deeper into you, hitting your cervix each time. You are huffing, choking to get air back inside your lungs as you start to shake around him.

Jeongin notices your change way too quickly, turning his head from your reflection to your tear stained face. “Gonna cum, baby?” The nickname makes you whimper pathetically, eyes barely open, but they don’t leave the mirror in fear he would stop. “You don’t even know, how much better I can fuck you, with my cock–“ Your breath hitches, pleading for him not to stop talking, his words just pushing you more and more to the edge. You have never knew, only dreamed about him talking to you like this — the words, even so unexpected, making you run hot, seemingly coming off way more natural than you would have thought.

You are shaking harshly, feeling heat washing over you, mewling at the way he keeps the delicious pace. Your head rolls to the side, teary eyes meeting his and he almost coos at the way you are having such a hard time to keep them open. Your legs keep closing, but he doesn’t let you move away, hand digging into your thigh so deep you know it will mark — and he does want to mark you with purpose, even though he decided that he would probably never let anyone get close enough to see it…though the mark on your neck says otherwise. You feel it — the burn inside you, the way your body keeps chasing the pleasure, face screwing up, mouth open and slick, droll running down your face.

“Fuck – I’m gonna–“ You start to breathe in series of gasps, gaze shooting back to the mirror and then back to him again.

With your sharp moan, Jeongin kisses you again, deep groan leaving the deepest part of his chest as he feels your body stilling. Your vision turns white, your ears ring, head rolling back in ecstasy as your hands fly to grasps his arm to ground your self. The orgasm is so strong it leaves you voiceless, silent scream leaving you, but then…it doesn’t stop — he doesn’t stop. His hand moves, but only so it doesn’t touch your twitching clit, only to start trusting his fingers inside you again with a movement so fast your cry rings in the room. “What are you – Oh, fuck!” You can’t see, your vision is blurry, eyes though still being capable to follow his line of sight.

Jeongin is breathing harshly, tongue poking out of his mouth, watching his fingers disappear inside you. He holds you down the best he can, moaning when he suddenly hears the wet sounds coming from your cunt. Your juices start to splash, your still hot cum leaking out of you and drooling down the couch and you panic at the foreign feeling bubbling inside you. It is too fast, too much — you try to warn him, run away from the intense feeling, but you are too weak to do anything other than tremble on top of him. You are overwhelmed, overstimulation high and you scream as the feeling comes over you. “Come on, just one more — do it, soak my fucking hand–” He silences you for your own good, fingers pushing inside your mouth again to quiet down the loud cry, as the feeling you were trying so hard to hold back wins over.

Before your eyes close, you see yourself squirt around his hand, your juices reaching all the way to the ground and table before you, making you scream in small horror and euphoria. You have never felt something so intense, something so pleasurable that it made you cry. Your body arches off his and Jeongin in his state of awe lets your legs fall shut, his hand still working you up. Everything is a blur for while for you, shaking and quivering, feeling your slick pooling on the couch under you. “Oh, my-“ His hand stills at your small whimper of overstimulation, fingers slowly sliding out of you and he has to push your legs apart to even free his hand.

Jeongin is marveled by the sight before him, eyes drifting over your reflection to you. You are covered in thin sheen of sweat, skin blooming under his touch and he has to stop himself from not going back to give you more. You are spent — done, you almost can’t even move, body slumped weakly against his. His eyes then drift back between your legs, that are finally moving apart, muscles spasming in your legs and exposed tummy. You have soaked everything — your legs, the couch, even the table before you and Jeongin has to bite back a groan at that. He watches you breathe through it, small whimpers still reaching his also ringing ears, however he then decides to lift you off his lap.

You moan in small protest, blinking away your now dried tears, while he stands to grasp the small box of tissues off the marked table. “Here-“ Still a gentleman, even after turning you into a complete mush. He is gentle now, atleast when he goes to wipe away your juices from your body for you, seeing you are too weak to even do it yourself. Your eyes trail over him, watching his eyes clear a little, but there is still that spark, still the reminder of what he did to you just now. You then look down to his still covered cock — he must have adjusted himself, when you weren’t looking, because you can only see just a small imprint of him. The tissues are little too harsh on your sensitive skin, jumping a little at the sensation, but his hand, now softly laying on your naked thigh, calms you.

You are sticky all over, the room hot from the thing you have done, but there is no shame now. Something about the way he cleans you so softly, touch so featherely, eyes bright, you realize that maybe there is something more about to it, then just lust. Though you could not think about it too long, because the silence between you is interrupted, when a loud sound of nearby voices is heard flowing down the hall. “Shit-“ Your eyes widened, scrambling away from him, just as he puts your underwear back over you and you do ignore how it stick to you like a second skin. You don’t look at him, too occupied of grabbing your sweatpants off the floor to notice his lingering stare. You push them up, just as you hear the voices of your friends right outside the door, eyes widening then, when you look to the wet spot next to you. No time to think — your hands push down your wild, messed up hair, pulling them forward, fingers grazing over the sensitive spot on the side of your neck, wiping away the loose spit coating your mouth, before the door opens.

“Hey.” You say, voice scratchy, coughing instantly and you can’t help, but cringe.

The others fill the room, each carrying bags of food that hopefully hides the smell of sex in the room. Your eyes meet Felix’s, who stumbles in last, whose smile still sits on his face, but then gives you a small look of confusion at your tone. “Hey? We brought you something–“ He beams a little as he nears you, while the others come to put the food on the table that thankfully wasn’t the one before you.

The wet spot is hot beside you, a burning reminder of a still fresh memory and you really have hard time to meet the eyes of your best friend at that. “Oh…that’s nice.” You say, eyes drifting away a little, when he suddenly comes to stand before you, eyes full of worry, while yours full of shame and you feel you sick of lying to him.

“Everything good?” He asks you like the sweet friend he is, but his close proximity makes you quiver a little, but you do try to keep the smile on your face, even though you still feel the ghost of his friend’s inside you.

“Yeah-“

“Hey, why is there–“

Your heart stops, head snapping to Hyunjin, who points to the spot next to you, before drifting all the way to the floor and table, while the others come to stand around him. Your mouth opens like a fish, mind crashing to scramble to answer atleast something, when everyone turns to look, but then a voice cuts in to safe you. “Oh, I just spilled some water.” Says Jeongin and no one other than you hears the small tone at the end of his sentence.

Everyone thankfully doesn’t say anything else, but you still don’t meet their eyes, heart beating fast, when you lean over to grab the box of tissues, eyes immediately falling on the rolled up ball of used ones, sitting right on top of the still wet, glass table. “I will clean it.” You say, immediately pulling out multiple of tissues to press them against the wet spot next to you. The light and your shadow thankfully hides the true substance of the liquid and how it slides over the leather.

“Okay, we will just eat on the floor, I guess.” Says someone, you don’t even care who, you only care that Felix and the others go away a little to let you drown in your own embarrassment. You will probably never let anyone sit on the spot ever again — in a twisted, sick way you have now marked it as yours. The rooms fills with chatter and laughter again, plastic bags rustling in the silent panic you are experiencing, before pair of piercing eyes, makes you look up.

Jeongin stares at you, with a teasing glint in his eyes, that only you catch. And then — right then, he puts the exact same fingers that have been inside you into his mouth, tongue swiping across his digits, before he bites down on the tips of his fingers — a move that only highlights the crazed smile grazing his lips and by that, you already know you are in for a wild ride.

[hyungszn]

rained out | feat. skz

sex might be the only “sport” where rain is acceptable, maybe even encouraged.

— rating; e for explicit

— pairing(s); stray kids x reader

— author’s note; happy late birthday to me!!! sorry to anyone who reads this, it is HIGHLY self indulgent! don’t ask me how long this is because i have no idea and wrote it in drafts like a crazy bitch. tagging @hanjibug since she liked the snippet so much LOL

— warnings; unprotected sex, creampie (duh!), multiple partners, polyamory, ot8 shenanigans, squirting, banter, dirty talk, daddy kink, copious amounts of body fluids, bukkake (yeeeaaahhh), male x male implications, humiliation, degradation, praise, uhm. i don’t even remember all the shit i’m supposed to be tagging.

“hah! mmmm,” comes your choked noises, obnoxiously loud in the otherwise mostly silent room.

you can barely keep your eyes open, onslaught of pleasure making you go nearly crosseyed. if you were anymore coherent you’d be shying away from the thick cock that’s plunging in and out of your cunt, but you’re very much not. instead, you writhe and cant your hips up, offering up the soppy, warm channel of your pussy to the man above you. he fills you up well, stretching your walls out nicely, the friction against your insides so mind-numbing that you forget their are seven other men watching you and your little pussy get wrecked.

“ooohh, fuck,” someone coos, causing your cunt to clench up tightly, “listen to that.”

as if to make a point, the wet, papping sounds of chan’s thrusts get a little louder. they’re wetter sounding, your slick webbing between your puffy cunt and chan’s pelvis. above you, chan laughs, nosing up the column of your throat as he thrusts faster, releasing a coo of his own when you whimper.

“hyung, it’s my turn. c’mon,” jisung whines, eyes glued to where chan’s dick reappears from your cunt — hard, leaking, and covered in cream.

“no, no, no,” you gasp, thighs shaking on either side of his hips. “daddy, d-don’t go,” you whine, hands locking onto his wrists where they sit beside your head.

“awh,” chan croons, kissing your mouth once as he shakes free of your grip easily, “i’ll be back, baby.”

you’re left with your mouth fixed in a watery pout, though it doesn’t last long, view quickly filled with shaggy hair and honeyed skin. jisung smiles, a bit out of breath as he bounces on his toes. you want to smile back but he’s kissing you quickly before dragging you across the bed, fixing you sideways.

an eager mouth descends upon you again, working over your lips, down your neck, and across your sweaty skin. it’s quite the change from the fast-paced, deep fucking chan had chosen to bestow upon you. you welcome jisung’s efforts with quiet hums and deep sighs, legs twitching where they’re drawn up beside his head. they only begin to shake more the closer he draws to the apex of your thighs, where your abused, little cunt awaits.

“jisung,” you whimper, squeezing his puffy cheeks between your plush thighs.

“hi, my baby,” he giggles, high pitched laughter trailing into a guttural groan. jisung hugs your thighs to his face, inhaling hungrily. it’s embarrassing to say the least, but he’s sucking the pudge of your clit into his mouth before you have the chance to say anything.

“oh, o-oh,” you sigh, lacing your fingers through his hair. “sungie,” you drawl when his tongues laves over your clit, tracing circles over and around it. “fuck, your m-mouth!”

“mm,” he hums, mouth full of pussy, slurping up your slick and his own spit as he goes. “so fuckin’ good.”

“please, please,” you whine, head turning over to the side, “wanna come, need t’come.”

you don’t know who you’re begging to and you’re not quite sure who to focus on. jisung’s tongue works magic between your thighs, but there are seven other men also orchestrating your demise. you know they take pride in it, watching your chest heave and your tits bounce with all of your squirming. of course, the second your eyes roll back, someone decides you’ve had enough. jisung’s whine is even louder than yours, neck bent awkwardly as minho pulls him away by his hair.

“that’s enough for you, jisungie,” minho teases, leaning down to taste your cunt from jisung’s lips. you pussy throbs and aches, watching their tongues tangle together.

minho pulls away and pats the younger male’s cheek patronizing, “don’t pout,” he croons, “hyung wants a go now.”

“no,” you gasp and sob, pushing your hips up and against nothing, “you’re m-mean, min. sungie, daddy, help —,” you try, cut off short when someone lands a stinging slap to the inside of your thigh.

“awh,” the aforementioned man tuts, clucking his tongue. despite your protests you let him manhandle you back to the center of the bed easily, positioning you just the way he wants.

“you think i’m mean, huh?”

“y-yes,” you stammer, jolting when you feel the length of his cock slide along your wet folds.

“mm,” he hums, head tilting thoughtfully. you watch — suspended in time — as minho taps the bud of your clit with the head of his cock, the sticky noises flowing out into the room.

you can’t help but shudder, body relaxing against your better judgement, turning watery eyes up to minho’s menacing gaze. he circles your opening once, flicking his fringe from his eyes. there is a smile, soft yet not, before you’re speared open, full of several inches far far too quickly. he laughs at your squeal, hands pressing the backs of your thighs back and down to spread you open for him.

“and to think i w-was gonna let you come,” he pouts, tone breathy as he fucks into you brutally, hips slapping against your skin.

the room erupts in laughter and you can do nothing but furrow your eyebrows and squeal, mouth stuck open in silent screams as minho fucks you within an inch of your life. his thrusts are quick and short, strokes mean as they pummel your insides to a pulp. still you are a good girl, hands ripping at the sheets instead of batting him away, eager to swallow up whatever minho deems you worthy of.

“christ, it’s fucking talking,” jeongin groans, squeezing his own dick. “pussy’s always so loud when you fuck it.”

“t-that’s cause it loves me,” minho gripes back, grinning, “ain’t that right, kitty?”

“uuuunnnhh,” you moan, incapable of answering any questions.

somewhere off yonder you can hear chan chastising minho for being so rough, but even your hazy, fucked-dumb brain knows there’s no really heat behind it. you’re leaking tears at this point, all sniffly as minho slips out and away from you, leaving you teetering on the precipice of orgasm yet again. there’s someone turning you, flipping your body over onto your tummy, tucking your legs underneath you to give your some support but also to present your puffy cunt to yet another leaking cock.

the position leaves you facing seven pairs of eyes, displaying your teary vulnerability in a way that makes you feel shameful. of course, this is not allowed, so when you sob and try to tuck your face away and into the mattress, hyunjin’s long fingers are tugging at your hair to hoist your head back up.

“don’t look at away, baby,” he coos, face pink and lips looking extremely kissable. “wanna see that adorable face when—“

“bin-NIE!” you shout, cutting hyunjin off.

“yah! how’d you know?” he pouts, thick hands making a home for themselves amongst the fat of your hips, using his grip as leverage to keep pulling you back onto his cock.

“you literally put her into doggy every chance you get,” seungmin groans, but you’re not sure if it’s in disdain at changbin’s predictability or because your drooly, little face is beginning to look dumber and dumber every thrust.

“yeah, bin,” minho laughs, “not even i do that, and i’m the certified ass man of the group.”

“c-can’t help it,” changbin grunts, reaching one hand around to press against your pelvis and tilt it the slightest bit. “love this fuckin’ ass,” he says, grinding right into the little patch of swollen flesh that makes you choke on air.

“yeah, fuck,” he grins, still grinding through your twitches, “there it is!”

the ‘it’ being the steady stream of liquid that’s being fucked out of your cunt. you’re locked up tight, eyes crossed and tongue lolling out stupidly. but that’s why changbin loves getting you in doggy, even though he’s not getting to watch your face. the way his cock is shaped, you never fail to squirt on his cock— especially like this, especially when he’s not the one to go first.

your brain doesn’t even come back online before you’re empty again, eagerly being pulled back onto someone’s awaiting tongue. plump lips suck and lick at your swollen cunt, slurping up slick and liquid like they’re getting paid to do it. you slap at the mattress a few times, moans sounding wrecked to shit. you wiggle, grinding your pussy down onto soft lips and a hard chin, chasing the remnants of your orgasm.

“you’re fuckin’ nasty, bro,” jisung cheers on. “that pussy’s good, ain’t it, ‘lix?”

“mhm,” felix rumbles slurping at your pussy so hard that your labia stretches out from your pussy with the movement. “love sloppy seconds.”

you’d be embarrassed, even offended, if you didn’t know the truth of it. felix loves when you’ve been thoroughly used, loves eating your cunt when its soft and wet, when you’re incoherent and uninhibited, able to rut that pretty, abused pussy all over his eager tongue. between him and jisung, your pussy gets kissed plenty, and that’s not even accounting for the way your daddy eats it to the fucking bone when he has the time.

“oh, god, oh, god,” you groan, cunt throbbing. “pl-please, please!”

“here,” a swift slap to your ass has you reeling, “gotchu something to whine about.”

it’s jeongin and the slide of his cock into your weeping hole is so glorious that you do, in fact, whine, throwing your ass back to swallow up his cock inside your greedy, little cunt. jeongin slaps at your ass again, large hands getting greedy as he squeezes and pulls at your plump flesh. he’s so big, your little, baby boy, and he fucks like a train. you can’t say you don’t like it, wouldn’t even if you could.

“innie, innie,” you babble, reaching back to pat at his abs with one hand. “s’good!”

“yeah, i know,” he snorts, holding your hand flat to his stomach, while the other holds steady to your ass. “we know how to fuck this slutty pussy, don’t we?”

“y-yeah, yeah,” you sigh, falling into a secure lull. in this, you press yourself down against the mattress, popping your ass up towards the man behind you.

which, unfortunately, is your first mistake. naturally, jeongin takes the opening like the opportunist he is, sliding a calloused thumb across your vulnerable and exposed asshole. the shocked moan that trickles out of you as he presses against it, shocks them all. you feel jeongin’s cock twitch inside you, swear you can feel the heat of his precum dripping against your walls.

“fuck,” minho groans, balls feeling heavy. “gonna let us fuck that hole next time, yeah?”

“uh huh,” you pant, upset again when jeongin, too, slides away, just like the others. “all my holes’re yours.”

“good,” seungmin pipes up. “as it should be.”

you’re being turned again, once again flopped onto your back. you mumble a thanks, stretching out while you can. inevitably someone will squish you up again, folding you into positions that you think are mean and unjust but that will ultimately have your pussy gushing and creaming anyway. the thing about seungmin is that you never know what you’re going to get with him. he can be cruel like minho but he can also but kind and giving; he gives you whiplash in a way that no one else can sometimes.

“don’t look at me like that,” he tuts, pulling your legs so that the backs of them are flat against his chest and stomach, circling his lithe arms around your knees. “i’m not gonna be mean to you,” he tells you watching as you relax, “this time.”

someone guides his dick into your pussy and the hand lingers, sliding its fingers between your sodden folds to rub softly at your clit. your eyes roll around in your head as the seungmin works you up again on his dick. you sigh and huff, clenching your walls around the length of seungmin’s dick like you’re trying to pull him over the edge too. too enraptured in making sure he doesn’t topple you over the edge, he just shakes his head and laughs, giving you a few hard, deep thrusts as warning as well.

“m-minnie, ‘m close again,” you breathe, trembling in seungmin’s hold.

“okay,” he acquiesces, much easier than he would any other time. “one more to go, puppy.”

“saved the best for last,” hyunjin says, earning several boos from the others.

he’s not entirely wrong though, if you’re being honest. your second orgasm always takes a little longer, which is typically why hyunjin goes last. his cock’s sensitive and your pussy kinda does him in when it’s gooey and wet from all the use. bright side to that is, hyunjin fucks like a dream when he’s done-in, and you both know that this was orchestrated perfectly for that very reason. you’ll be squirting again in no time.

“sheesh,” hyunjin whines, finding a home between your legs. his dick slips and slides a few times, missing your hole enough times that you let out a tiny sound of frustration, reaching between the two of you to help him find his way inside.

“oh, oh,” you sigh, nodding out your pleasure as he slides in, long cock feeling like it’s knocking into your diaphragm.

“f-fuck, you’re so wet, baby,” he tells you, hooking your knees over the crooks of his elbows. “cunt so good.”

you preen at the compliment, basking in its filth. with hands resting on your tummy, you press inward on the spaces you swear you can feel hyunjin’s length wrecking havoc. it tightens you up, makes the tall man shudder and whine, dark eyes with blown out pupils fixed on yours. hyunjin’s move from fluid rolls to somehow even deeper strokes, making your jaw positively ache with how quickly it drops open to release your moans.

“k-kiss me,” he says, leaning down into your space and fucking that impossibly long dick into places that hurt as much as they feel good. “c’mon, gimme’a kiss.”

you try your best, let him blanket you to the point that he’s driving himself further, pretty much bruising your cervix. he gets his kiss, soft, bitten lips caressing your own until you’re suddenly batting at his shoulders, cunt gushing again.

“fuck!” you squeak when the stream doesn’t stop, hyunjin being more than what to keep fucking it out of you. “okay, okay, jinnie! no m-more!”

you think he listens, because you get a second of reprieve, but you’re sorely mistaken. your sore cunt is being split, once again, open on chan’s cock. you’re not sure when that switch happened, but you’re quickly thrusting both of your hands out towards chan’s abs, pressing at them and writhing in an attempt to get away.

“n-no, no, no!”

“told you i’d be back,” he gleams, pulling you by your hips into the cradle of his own.

you get drilled. that’s the only way to describe it. and chan gets exactly what he wants from you, constant spurts of liquid that splatter across your body and his. watching you jerk around like a livewire provides entertainment for everyone, a sultry visual for them all to jerk their cocks to. and they do, crowding around you as the moments pass, raining down on you the same way you’ve rained on them. your body is soon covered in the cum of nine separate people, the ultimate claim.

“happy birthday, little one,” chan rasps, smiling tiredly. he truly feels like the top dog here; he’s the only one who’s gotten to cream your cunt this go around.

you don’t respond, silent and blinking tiredly at the ceiling.

“i think we finally broke her,” jisung says worriedly, tapping gently at your cheek.

“yeah,” jeongin snorts, “broke her in, you mean.”

there’s someone swiping at your skin. you assume it’s to clean the cum off of you, but can’t bring yourself to ask or even grunt. your brain needs at least five to seven business days to come back online for real.

“so, can we still eat her pussy when she’s like that?” felix asks, zero shame in his game.

“dude, you are so nasty,” jisung giggles, but minho recognizes that mischievous glint in his irises.

“as if you’re not dying to help him.”

“mind your business!” jisung shrieks at the elder, nonetheless sinking to his knees alongside his friend.

point proven, you think. happy birthday to you, indeed.

© hyungszn 2023; please do not copy, steal, repost, modify, translate, or recommend on any other platform without my permission!

[enhaflixer]

CUMMING OF AGE

bsfs brother!Heeseung x f!reader - when you ask him to teach you how to masturbate. (pure porn with plot. MDNI 18+, explicit, masturbation, cunnilingus, phone sex, ANGST, fluff too so its fine.) “If she’s not cumming, she’s not listening to her pussy.” “And if she won’t listen…” “I’ll make her.”

You’ve always had a hate-hate relationship with masturbation.

Not the “haha I don’t know what I’m doing” kind. Not the shy, innocent kind. The kind where you tried, over and over again, and every time it ended in that same aching, pathetic way—panties soaked, fingers numb, pussy throbbing, and absolutely nothing to show for it.

No finish. No orgasm. Not even a fucking twitch of satisfaction.

You rubbed and rubbed, like everyone said to. You found your clit. You circled it. Pressed it. Flicked it. Tried soft and slow, then fast and desperate. Tried with spit, with lotion, with fucking coconut oil once. But nothing ever felt right. Just this frustrating hum of almost. Like your body was teetering on the edge of something big and just… refused to jump.

You’d end up sore. Agitated. Your legs would shake, but not the good kind. Your pussy would swell, throbbing like she was mocking you for trying.

It made you feel broken. Or worse—boring. Like your body was wired wrong. Like you’d missed the most basic feminine skill everyone else seemed to be born with.

Girls talked about cumming like it was breathing. Like they could do it in five minutes flat with one hand and a good imagination. You’d hear them talk about shaking through the sheets, arching off the bed, seeing stars—and you’d smile and nod and laugh along, pretending like you got it, like you knew what it was like to get wrecked by your own hand.

You’d never even come close.

You tried toys. You bought a vibrator and nearly cried when it did nothing but make your arms go numb. You tried grinding on pillows until the friction made you raw. You tried porn. You even tried watching yourself once in the mirror like some kind of twisted self-help therapy. Nothing worked.

You’d touch and touch and chase and beg for it in your head—please, just this once, just let me finish, please—and still end up breathless, sticky, empty.

You’d cry sometimes. Just a little. From the frustration of it. From the absolute humiliation of being so fucking horny and not being able to do anything about it.

You hated that about yourself. Hated the way your body seemed to enjoy the build and not the release. Hated the way your clit would throb for attention and then get overwhelmed the second you gave her any. Hated the need. The noise. The mess with no reward.

But the worst part—the actual worst part—was how much you still wanted it. How much you still tried. Like a dog chasing its own tail. Like some needy little loser who couldn’t leave it alone.

You were eighteen, for fuck’s sake. You were supposed to know your body by now. You were supposed to be able to make yourself cum. You were supposed to own your pleasure.

Instead, you were stuck with a pussy that got wet at the idea of being touched and then shut down the second you did.

It made you feel fucking insane.

So you gave up. Mostly. You still touched yourself when you needed to—when it built up too much and made your thighs ache. But it wasn’t about cumming anymore. It was maintenance. A reset button. A pressure valve. You did it in the dark, quietly, quickly, just to shut your body up.

You didn’t even think about pleasure anymore.

You didn’t dare.

-

Evie—Heejoo, but you only ever called her that when you wanted to piss her off—was your best friend in the world. Ride-or-die since ninth grade, bonded over a shared hatred of your chem teacher and the fact that neither of you fit into your school’s carefully manicured social circles.

Where you were sharp and quick with your mouth, she was soft-spoken and wide-eyed, just sweet enough to disarm anyone who got too close. You balanced each other out. She calmed your storm. You stirred hers.

You were over at her house so often it barely felt like visiting anymore. You knew the code to their garage door. You had your own toothbrush in her bathroom. Her mom kept your favorite cereal in the pantry like clockwork. You even had a drawer in her room, mostly old hoodies and stolen pajama shorts that smelled like her perfume.

It wasn’t unusual for you to spend the weekend there, or three nights in a row, or an entire spring break. Her parents didn’t mind. They liked knowing where you both were—liked having an extra body in the house, even if they never said it out loud.

And then there was Heeseung.

Her older brother. Four years up. Barely a presence.

When you were younger, he was just the older guy who sulked in his room and stole her chargers. Sometimes he’d give you a ride when Evie asked, sometimes he’d walk past you in the kitchen and grunt a greeting, but that was about it. He was there, and then he wasn’t—off to college, off to god knows where, vanishing from your life as quickly as he’d drifted through it.

You had a tiny crush on him once, freshman year. The kind that sparked quick and stupid, fed by his lazy smirk and the way he wore his backwards cap while fixing his car in the driveway. It died fast—suffocated by time and distance and his complete disinterest in acknowledging your existence beyond a nod or a side-eye.

By the time he moved back home post-grad, you barely noticed. He was older now, busier, always in his room with the door closed, voice low behind it, like he was on constant phone calls or late-night games or… something.

You didn’t think about him much. He was just Evie’s brother. Part of the background. White noise.

Your focus was always Evie.

She was the one who held your hair when you puked. The one who lent you a dress before every shitty date. The one who knocked on the bathroom door when you were taking too long and said, “You better not be edge-cumming again, bitch,” like it was the most normal sentence in the world.

She talked about sex like it was just part of the air. Blunt. Effortless. She could make herself cum in three minutes flat. She said it with confidence, like breathing.

You hated how easily it came to her. You loved her anyway.

You always felt safe in her house. Safe in her bed, tangled up under a shared blanket, legs overlapping like twins born too far apart. Her room smelled like vanilla and lip gloss and safety. It felt like yours.

-

The house settled around you like it always did—quiet, gentle, familiar in a way that made your muscles loosen and your brain drift. Even the silence felt padded here. The hum of the fridge downstairs, the occasional pop of cooling pipes, the subtle click of the thermostat shifting—background noise you’d grown so used to, it almost felt like home.

Evie was out cold beside you, one arm thrown carelessly across your stomach, her breath hot against your ribs. She always slept fast after wine. She always slept on you, too—like her body never quite understood boundaries even after all these years. You didn’t mind. It was comforting, the weight of her. Like a grounding wire for the anxious, electric static building low in your belly.

Sleep wasn’t coming for you, though.

You’d been lying there in the dark for the better part of an hour, phone dimmed to nearly unreadable brightness, eyes burning from the glow. Nothing on your feed caught your attention. You’d scrolled past the same content three times already, thumb swiping out of pure muscle memory.

Something restless twisted beneath your skin, persistent and irritating. Not quite horniness, not quite insomnia—just that same pulsing tension that had been sitting heavy between your legs all night. Like your body was trying to tell you something without using words. You shifted under the blanket, trying not to disturb Evie, thighs pressing tighter together to relieve the dull ache. It only made it worse.

The urge to do something about it had been growing for hours.

You’d thought about sneaking off to the bathroom. You’d done it before—quiet, quick, businesslike. Just enough friction to take the edge off before falling asleep, still unsatisfied but too tired to care. The idea barely tempted you anymore. You already knew how it would end: the usual mess of spit-slick fingers, your clit swollen and sore, pussy wet and pulsing and still refusing to give you anything real.

Just the thought of trying again made you clench your jaw.

It was pathetic, the way your body teased you. Wet for no reason. Needy without payout. Over and over again, like clockwork. Like punishment.

You turned your phone off with a quiet sigh and let the screen go black.

For a moment, all you could hear was the creak of the floorboards expanding under the weight of a settling house. A branch tapping against the window. The subtle drag of Evie’s breathing. You stared at the ceiling, tired but tense, willing yourself to shut down the frustration building behind your ribs.

A man’s voice, deep and casual, barely audible through the cracked bedroom doors. Not enough to make out words. Not yet. Just the soft cadence of speech, rising and falling like a secret being shared too close to the edge of the world.

Heeseung’s door was open. Or cracked. Just enough to let a sliver of sound spill out. You hadn’t even realized he was home tonight.

Your body stilled, like it always did when you felt watched—except this time, you were the one doing the watching. Listening, technically. Just barely.

There was a pause, then a laugh. Not his. Another voice. Someone else. Male. Maybe one of his friends from school, the ones who came and went without warning. You couldn’t place the sound, and you didn’t care.

Your focus sharpened the second Heeseung spoke again.

“It’s not that hard. Girls make it harder than it is."

“If she’s not cumming, she’s not listening to her pussy.”

The sentence dropped like a stone in the middle of your chest.

Not whispered. Not dirty. Just… stated. Like a law. Like fact.

Your fingers flexed unconsciously against the blanket. Heat flushed your neck and settled low in your belly, familiar and unwelcome. You didn’t move. Couldn’t.

There was something about the way he said it. Not performative. Not like he was trying to sound cool. Just calm. Confident. Like the kind of guy who got women off without effort and never thought twice about why.

Every hair on your arm lifted. He didn’t stop there.

“And if she won’t listen…I’ll make her.”

No laughter followed that. No teasing. Just a quiet moment where it hung in the air, unchallenged.

You lay frozen in the dark, heart thudding, mouth slightly open. Your legs ached under the blanket, thighs tense and pressed together. You weren’t just turned on—you were caught. Cornered by something you weren’t supposed to hear and couldn’t let go of.

Something clicked. Not like a revelation, not some dramatic internal monologue, just… a shift. A tilt in the floor beneath your feet. A door opening in a room you didn’t realize you were trapped in.

You didn’t even know what you wanted in that moment.

But for the first time in your life, you wondered—really wondered—what your body would feel like under instructions that weren’t your own.

-

You tried not to think about it for the rest of the day. Swore you wouldn’t spiral.

You kept the overheard words tucked somewhere tight in your chest, smothered under fake laughter and half-listened stories while Evie walked you through her latest dating app disasters. You made it through brunch, through an entire Target run, through two face masks and one trashy Netflix documentary—and you almost convinced yourself you were over it.

But when the house quieted again that night—when Evie fell asleep curled up on the far side of the bed with her arm draped over a pillow instead of you—you gave in.

You waited a while. Just in case she wasn’t fully out. The kind of sleep that could crack open with the creak of floorboards.

And when her breathing evened out, soft and deep and oblivious, you slid out from under the blanket, grabbed your phone, and slipped into the hallway.

The bathroom door closed with a soft click behind you.

You didn’t turn the light on right away. Just stood there for a second in the dark, breathing.

The air was cooler here. The tiles cold against your feet. The smell of Evie’s shampoo still clung to the room—vanilla and something floral, sticky-sweet. You stared at your reflection in the mirror above the sink, barely visible in the silver sliver of hallway light. Your face looked flushed. Too open. Like something had already been peeled back.

You sat on the closed toilet lid, tugged your hoodie over your thighs, and pulled your phone into your lap.

No buildup. No browsing. You knew what you were looking for.

The video you always came back to. The closest thing you’d ever found to what worked. A deep voice. Slow instructions. Just audio—nothing to watch, nothing to focus on but sound.

It wasn’t him, but it didn’t have to be. Not yet.

Your underwear stuck to the heat between your thighs as you slid it down. Still wet from the tension that had been building since that morning. From the second you saw Heeseung in the kitchen and felt your legs press together automatically.

The wetness should’ve been a good sign.

But you already knew how this would go.

You played the video. Turned the volume down low. Closed your eyes.

Your fingers found your clit easily. Rubbed gentle circles, the way the voice said. You tried to breathe through it, tried to slow down, to listen.

There was too much pressure too soon. Your skin twitched with every touch. The angle was wrong. The rhythm never quite synced. Your body jerked between feeling almost there and feeling absolutely nothing.

You tried harder.

Tried picturing something—someone. His voice. His mouth. The way he looked at you this morning like you weren’t just Evie’s friend, like he saw something else.

That made your fingers move faster. Your hips twitch up from the seat, trying to find something—anything—that would tip you over.

But it never came.

Just heat. Just sweat. Just the same stinging tension in your thighs and the wave that built up, crested, and refused to break.

Your hand dropped. Your chest heaved with a breath that sounded too much like a sob.

You sat there for a full minute in silence, pussy swollen, twitching, soaking your hand—and still nothing. You hadn’t cum. Not even close.

Not even fucking close.

Your palm dragged across your inner thigh as you reached for toilet paper, the wet slick of your own arousal catching against your skin, obscene and bitter and useless. You wiped your hand clean, flushed, washed it under the tap in a daze.

Your reflection stared back at you in the mirror, flushed cheeks, wild eyes, bottom lip bitten raw.

This wasn’t working.

You couldn’t do this by yourself. Not anymore.

The shame didn’t even hit you until you opened the door, stepped back into the hall, and looked toward Heeseung’s room.

You didn’t remember walking from the bathroom to his door. Not really. Your body moved on instinct, fingers still damp with failure, breath shallow and uneven like you’d been running—not down a hallway, but in circles inside your own skin. Everything felt hot and wrong, like you were standing too close to something dangerous and still leaning closer.

The light from under his door was soft, pale blue. The kind of glow that came from a computer screen and sleepless hours. It made the hallway feel colder. Your skin felt clammy beneath your hoodie, thighs still tacky with your own arousal, pulse thudding hard behind your ears. You didn’t even try to calm yourself before raising your hand. There wasn’t enough time. There wasn’t enough anything left.

You knocked.

Soft, quick. Regretted it immediately.

Nothing.

The silence on the other side stretched just long enough to make you feel stupid. You should’ve gone back to Evie’s room. Should’ve locked the bathroom door and buried your face in your hands like you always did. Should’ve swallowed the shame and left it to rot where it always did: at the bottom of your throat.

Your hand was already dropping when the doorknob turned.

Heeseung opened the door halfway, leaning into the frame, and for a second you couldn’t speak. You weren’t expecting him to look like that—hoodie sleeves pushed up to his forearms, collar askew, hair a damp mess like he’d run his hands through it one too many times. His sweatshorts hung low on his hips, legs bare, skin flushed warm like he’d just come out of the shower… or just come. You had no way of knowing which. And it made your brain short-circuit either way.

He didn’t look surprised to see you. Just confused.

His eyes dragged down your body with a slow kind of calculation, and you swore you saw the moment they caught on the way your thighs were pressed together, your bare legs twitching under the hem of your hoodie. The way your breath hitched in your throat. The way your fingers—still wet, still trembling—curled tighter at your side.

He blinked once, brows pulling in slightly.

“You good?”

The question was simple, quiet. But it hit like an echo in a room with no furniture. You were not good. Not even close.

Your voice came out before you could soften it. Flat, direct. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

He blinked again. Caught off guard this time.

“…What?”

“I just need to know,” you said quickly, words tumbling over each other. “Before I say anything. It matters.”

He stared at you for a beat, mouth twitching like he wasn’t sure if he should be amused or suspicious.

“No. I don’t.”

You exhaled like someone had untied a knot inside your chest.

“Fuck.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “What?”

“If you said yes,” you muttered, eyes darting to the floor, “I would’ve had an excuse not to ask you.”

That made him pause.

He shifted his weight, crossed his arms over his chest, leaned into the doorframe like he was settling in. His voice was a little lower when he asked, “Ask me what?”

Your whole body burned. There was no easy way to say it. No casual phrasing. No safe distance between you and the truth anymore. You didn’t have the energy to dance around it.

“You said something last night,” you started, forcing yourself to look at him. “About girls who can’t finish. About how they’re not listening to their bodies.”

He watched you carefully. No expression, just the slow, measured study of a man waiting for the rest.

“I heard it,” you added. “By accident. But it’s been stuck in my head. And I thought—I don’t know, I thought maybe you were right.”

Still nothing. Just his gaze crawling over your face, down to your knees, like he was trying to see where this was going before letting himself speak.

You swallowed, the taste of failure still thick in your throat. “I tried again tonight. Bathroom. Just now. I’ve been trying for years, and it’s always the same. Nothing works. I can’t finish. I touch myself, and it just—goes nowhere.”

Your cheeks burned. You didn’t even know why you were telling him all this. You barely knew the guy. The last time you’d had a real conversation was probably three birthdays ago when he offered you a ride and you said no because he smelled like weed and fuckboy cologne.

But here you were. Standing in front of him like some half-dressed, sweat-slick confession, spilling everything.

And he still hadn’t said a word.

Your next breath shook as it left you.

“I don’t want you to touch me,” you said, quieter now. “I just want to ask… if you’d tell me what to do.”

That got something out of him. A small breath through his nose, not quite a laugh, not quite disbelief. His eyes dropped—lower this time—to your legs again, to the edge of your hoodie, to the bare skin flushed and prickling under the hallway air.

He nodded once toward you, chin tilting. “Your hand’s still wet.”

You froze.

His voice was low, unreadable. “You tried that hard, huh?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t.

He stepped back.

Just a few inches. Just enough to open the door wider. The light from inside poured out around him, cool and soft and full of static.

He held your gaze.

 “Come in. Close the door behind you.”

The door shuts with a soft click behind you, and just like that, the house disappears. Evie’s room, the hallway, your entire carefully contained world—it all drops away. There’s only the low glow of his monitor casting pale blue light across the carpet and the quiet hum of something electric in the corner, like the room itself is holding its breath.

You hover near the door for a second, not sure what to do with your hands, your legs, your shame.

Heeseung’s already sitting, legs wide in his desk chair, turned toward you like he was waiting the whole night for this. He shifts, pushes himself up slightly, and drags the chair forward—lazily, unbothered—until it sits right in front of the bed. Close enough that if you spread your legs, he’d have a front-row seat.

Then he flips the chair around, straddling it backwards like some cocky delinquent in detention, arms crossed over the backrest, chin resting casually on top. His expression doesn’t change. He just watches you.

“Go ahead,” he says, voice calm and low, like this is just another Tuesday night. “Sit.”

You make your way to the bed, legs tense, breath shallow, and perch at the edge like it might bite. Your thighs clench on instinct, hoodie pulled low, trying to shield what you already know he’s seen. You’re still warm from the bathroom. Still soaked. Still aching.

His eyes drift down. Slow. Lazy. No shame.

You fidget.

Heeseung doesn’t move. “Don’t get shy on me now. You came in here asking for a masturbation lesson, not a bedtime story.”

Your lips twitch. You almost laugh. Almost.

He lifts his chin. “Tell me what you usually do.”

The question lands harder than it should. Not because it’s dirty, but because it’s so simple.

You blink. “Like… where I touch?”

“Yeah.”

You hesitate. “I usually just go straight to my clit.”

“Figures.” He doesn’t miss a beat. “And then what? Rub the fuck out of it ‘til it gets sore and wonder why it doesn’t work?”

Your mouth falls open in a small gasp. “Excuse me?”

He shrugs one shoulder, unbothered. “Don’t take it personal. That’s what most girls do. It’s not your fault you think the goal is speed over sense.”

You don’t respond, but your silence is answer enough.

He leans in a little, forearms resting on the chair back, gaze glued to your bare thighs. There’s no hunger in it—not yet. Just observation. Like he’s assessing you.

“If your pussy had a voice,” he says smoothly, “she’d be screaming at you to chill the fuck out.”

You’re quiet for a long second. Because the worst part is… he’s not wrong.

He watches you squirm, and something like amusement passes over his features. Not cruel, but smug.

“Take your time,” he says, gentler now. “You rush her, she locks up. Doesn’t matter how wet you are.”

“…She?” you murmur, lifting a brow.

Heeseung shrugs again, like it’s obvious. “Yeah. She.” His eyes flick to yours. “You don’t gotta name her or write poetry about her, but you should probably stop treating her like a vending machine.”

Your laugh breaks before you can stop it. Quick and sharp, nerves bleeding out of your throat. “You’re so annoying.”

“And yet, you’re still here,” he says with a smirk, eyes dark. “Go on. Show me how you start.”

Everything tightens. You feel the weight of his voice low in your belly.

You don’t move right away.

He raises a brow. “You said you didn’t want me to touch you. That’s cool. But I need to see what you’re doing wrong.”

Your breath hitches.

Your hand moves on instinct—slow, shaky—and dips beneath the hem of your hoodie, then under the band of your panties. You’re already wet. Embarrassingly wet. And when your fingers graze over your clit, you flinch. It’s too sensitive. Too much. Your hips jerk a little, and you pretend not to notice the way his eyes follow the motion.

You rub. Once. Twice. It’s not bad. It’s what you always do.

But still—nothing clicks.

Heeseung tilts his head. “You’re too stiff.”

“I’m nervous,” you admit quietly.

“Don’t be.” His voice drops half an octave. “You look hot.”

The way he says it—it doesn’t sound like a compliment. Just a fact. Like he’s telling you what time it is. Like your soaked fingers and clenched thighs are something he’s been picturing all night.

“You’re thinking too much,” he adds. “Trying to force it instead of feel it.”

Your hand stills.

He leans forward slightly, his voice quieter now, more intimate. “Try this. Press your hand flat. Just hold her. No rubbing. No tapping. Just… feel her.”

You hesitate, then obey.

The flat of your hand settles between your legs, heat blooming up your arm from the contact. Your whole body clenches around it.

“Feel that?”

You nod. Barely.

“That’s what she likes,” he murmurs. “You’ve been poking at her like she’s a fucking keyboard. No wonder she’s not putting out.”

You let out a breathy laugh—half scandalized, half aroused. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re soaking through your panties,” he says, deadpan.

Your breath catches. Heeseung doesn’t laugh. Doesn’t look away.

He sits there like he’s got all the time in the world. Like he’s doing you a favor. Like he’s enjoying this. You’re not even sure he’s hard yet—but he will be. You can feel it building. Between you. In you.

He lets the moment hang.

Then: “Now—slow circles. Don’t speed up unless she tells you to.”

“She doesn’t talk,” you whisper, teasing without confidence.

His gaze is heavy. Steady.

“She does,” he says, voice like heat sliding under your skin. “You just haven’t been listening.”

The room feels hotter now.

Not just the air—your skin, your mouth, your thighs. Sweat clings to the backs of your knees, damp beneath the bunched-up hoodie, and your panties are so wet they’re practically glued to one thigh. Your hips keep twitching without your permission, rolling up slightly with every pass of your fingers. It’s not graceful. It’s not some porn fantasy. It’s messy and uneven and real, and Heeseung is watching every second of it like it’s the only thing worth watching.

You keep thinking you should feel embarrassed. Ashamed. You’re spread open on his bed, hand stuffed between your legs, whining softly every time you stroke a little too hard and have to ease back again—but you’re too far gone now to stop. Your cheeks are flushed, lashes wet, lips parted, and you can’t look away from him.

He hasn’t blinked once.

Heeseung is still straddling the backward chair, elbows resting on the top, chin on one hand like this is casual. Normal. Like you’re just some half-naked girl jerking off in front of him for practice and he’s your substitute teacher for the night.

The only thing that’s changed is his posture.

His knees are spread wider than before. His forearms are tense. One hand grips the edge of the chair a little tighter every time your body jerks, and you don’t miss the way his jaw flexes every time your breath stutters or your voice cracks.

You’re doing this to him.

But not enough.

Not enough to make it stop hurting. Not enough to make the ache go away. Not enough to finish.

You’re trying. God, you’re trying.

Your fingers rub in slow circles, not too fast now. You’re listening. You are. But your body keeps tensing at the edge, like it’s scared to fall off the cliff it’s been building for years. Your hand’s cramping. Your clit throbs. Your stomach clenches like you’re close—and then it dips, again and again.

It’s good. So good.

But it’s not enough.

You choke on a frustrated sound, somewhere between a sob and a moan, and your free hand fists the blanket beneath you like it’s the only thing keeping you grounded.

Heeseung speaks, finally, voice low and steady. “Still rushing her.”

“I’m not,” you whisper.

“You are. I can see it.”

You shake your head, breath stuttering. “I’m not trying to—I swear, I’m—” You gasp. “It’s just—it’s not—”

You stop. Words catch in your throat. Your hips are rocking now, involuntarily, chasing a sensation that keeps pulling away the second you get close. Your fingers are wet, your pussy’s pulsing, and it still feels like you’re just rubbing up against a wall.

“It’s not enough,” you breathe out, broken. “I—I can’t—fuck—she’s not listening.”

Heeseung leans forward slightly, something sharp flashing in his eyes.

“Oh, she’s listening,” he says. “You’re just not talking to her the right way.”

You whimper. “Then tell me what to say.”

That makes his mouth twitch—just barely. Like he’s been waiting for that.

“Tell me what she’s feeling first.”

“I—” Your voice cracks. “She’s tight. Warm. I feel her—pulsing. Like she wants something but—she’s not opening.”

He tilts his head slightly, gaze dark. “She wants to be filled.”

You nod.

“No,” he says. “Say it.”

Your chest heaves. Your hand hasn’t stopped moving, rubbing slow, desperate circles around your clit. “She wants to be filled.”

“Say it like you mean it.”

“She wants to be fucking filled,” you whine. “She’s throbbing—she’s soaking—fuck, I can feel her squeezing nothing.”

Heeseung exhales slowly, eyes flicking down between your legs again.

“There you go,” he murmurs. “Now she’s talking.”

Your fingers glide lower, catching more slick and sliding back up. Everything’s soaked. You’re dripping down onto the sheets, and your thighs are trembling from the strain of keeping your hips lifted just right.

“She needs more,” you pant. “She’s clenching—she’s starving—”

Heeseung’s hand flexes around the edge of the chair again. His voice drops, almost to a growl. “So feed her.”

You moan—high and breathy—and press harder, circling your clit faster now, the way your body wants. Your lips are wet, your fingers slipping, but it doesn’t matter. Everything is slick and hot and alive.

“You’re soaked,” he mutters, eyes burning into you. “Look at your fucking fingers.”

You do. It’s obscene. Your hand shines in the light, your fingers coated in slick. You barely recognize your own body like this. Ruined. Responsive.

“She’s begging,” he says softly. “And you’re finally listening.”

You whine, eyes squeezing shut. Your free hand presses against your lower belly, trying to hold the heat in. Your pussy twitches at the pressure.

“She’s so fucking greedy,” you gasp. “She won’t stop pulling—I can’t—I can’t keep up—”

“You don’t have to,” he says. “She knows what she’s doing. Let her take it.”

You don’t even realize how loud you’ve gotten until you hear yourself moan again—shameless, cracked open, shaking from the inside out.

Your legs spread wider. You’re not trying to hide anymore. Not from him. Not from yourself.

You’re right there.

You’re going to break.

He’s just watching. Like it’s his favorite thing he’s ever seen.

You’re right on the edge, and this time it’s not teasing.

It’s sharp. Fast. Inevitable.

Your legs are trembling now, hips jerking with every motion, and your fingers are soaked—slipping against your clit, coating your inner thighs, dripping down the crease of your ass like your body’s trying to fuck itself open. Every stroke sends another wave of tension through you, and there’s no holding it anymore. Your body is begging. Your pussy’s leaking, twitching, clenching around nothing—and Heeseung watches like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

You don’t even realize you’re moaning until you hear it echo back at you in the small room. High-pitched. Desperate. Wet.

The sound of your pussy is louder now too. Sticky and obscene, each rub slicker than the last. You can hear it every time you roll your hips into your palm.

Heeseung doesn’t say a word for a second too long.

You lift your head, eyes glazed over, panting.

His eyes are darker now. Half-lidded. Focused on your pussy like he’s reading it better than your face.

He shifts in his chair. Spreads his knees wider. His hand dips into the front of his sweatshorts, slow and casual, like he can’t ignore it anymore. You catch a glimpse of his fingers wrapping around himself—and your breath catches so hard your vision blurs.

He’s so hard.

His voice comes out deeper. Filthy. Measured like it’s the only thing anchoring him in the room.

“Look at that messy little cunt.”

Your body jerks at the word. You’ve never heard it said like that. Never felt it hit like that.

Heeseung strokes himself once, slow and firm under the fabric.

“She’s drooling all over your fingers. So fucking hungry. Bet she’s never been this loud for you before.”

“She hasn’t,” you breathe. “She never—she never—”

“You’ve been starving her,” he says, still jerking himself lazily. “Touching her like she’s a problem instead of a fucking meal.”

Your hand speeds up, and he sees it. Hears the slap of slick. You’re humping into your fingers now, sloppy and desperate and so close you could scream.

Heeseung leans forward, one elbow braced against the back of the chair.

“You wanna cum, baby?”

You nod frantically, but it’s not enough.

“Use your words.”

Your voice comes out cracked. “Yes. Please—I wanna cum—I need it—”

“Need what?” he pushes.

“I need her to fucking break,” you sob. “She’s clenching—she’s begging—she needs to cum, she needs it—”

“Then let her,” he growls. “Don’t fucking hold it. Let her make a mess.”

You whimper, fingers frantic, back arching off the bed.

And that’s when he says it—low and hot and foul.

“Let her fuck your fingers, slut.”

You snap.

Your body locks up, then shatters. You cum so hard your legs shake, hips jerking forward, thighs squeezing around your own hand as your pussy gushes over your fingers in sticky, messy waves. The moan that rips from your throat is broken, cracked, half-wet from tears.

It doesn’t hit you right away.

At first, there’s just white. Blinding. A full-body seizure of pleasure as your cunt clenches around nothing, soaking your own fingers, mouth open in a moan that doesn’t even sound like you.

It crashes over you fast. Wet. Messy.

You cum harder than you ever have in your life—harder than you thought was even possible—and your body just keeps going, hips jerking, slick dripping past your knuckles, your voice cracking on every gasp.

Heeseung is still there.

You know he is. You can feel his eyes on you, feel his breath in the space between your bodies, but you can’t look at him. Not right now. Not like this.

And then it fades.

That warm, bright static in your brain flickers out. Your thighs twitch. Your hand finally drops, fingers soaked, wrist aching, clit too sensitive to touch again.

What’s left is the sound of your breathing. The slick, wet mess beneath your hips. The embarrassment flooding in all at once like a second wave.

Reality slams back into you hard.

You’re laid out across his bed—sweaty, flushed, thighs spread wide and soaked all the way down to the crease of your ass. Your pussy’s still twitching, swollen and glistening, your panties bunched at one knee, hoodie halfway pushed up your stomach.

Your fingers shine in the low light. Still wet. Still shaking.

You sit up fast, panic sweeping over your skin like ice water. “Shit—fuck.”

Your hand fumbles to pull your hoodie down, yanking it over your thighs, shoving your panties back into place even though they’re absolutely soaked through. The fabric clings wetly to your pussy and only makes the mess feel worse.

Heeseung hasn’t moved.

Still in the chair. Still one hand inside his shorts. He looks completely unbothered. Calm. Like you didn’t just cum your entire soul out in front of him.

You can’t meet his eyes.

He watches you fuss with the hem of your hoodie, your hands still trembling slightly as you try to make yourself look decent.

“Didn’t say stop,” he says mildly.

You glare at him, cheeks burning. “I came. Pretty sure that’s the goal, right?”

He shrugs one shoulder. “Just surprised you’re acting all shy now. That pussy was practically talking thirty seconds ago.”

“Jesus—” you squeeze your eyes shut, bury your face in your hands.

Heeseung grins. Not mean. Not mocking. Just amused.

“You do realize how loud you were, right?” he adds. “I thought the bed was gonna snap in half.”

“Please stop talking,” you groan, voice muffled.

“You were crying,” he says like it’s a compliment, hand still lazily palming himself under his shorts. “That shit was beautiful.”

You peek at him through your fingers. He’s still hard. Still watching you with that same steady calm, like this is fine. Like this is normal.

He doesn’t even seem fazed.

That somehow makes the ache between your legs flare again. Weak, overstimulated, but greedy.

You clear your throat. “I didn’t realize I—um. That I could… do that.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Cum?”

You shoot him a look.

Heeseung laughs, finally letting go of himself. “You’ve been fighting her for years. All I did was give you directions.”

You tuck your knees up into your chest, arms wrapped around them. You feel like you just stripped naked in front of someone who stayed fully clothed—and now he’s just lounging there like you didn’t just show him the most private part of yourself.

You sit in that awkward silence for a few seconds longer.

Heeseung stretches, chair creaking slightly. “So,” he says, tone casual. “Lesson two tomorrow?”

You blink.

“…There’s a second lesson?”

He smiles slow, eyes dropping to your thighs again. “You think she’s done learning?”

Your pussy twitches beneath your soaked panties.

-

Your legs are still weak from the first night when you leave.

Just a few days back home. Just a quick visit. You didn’t think it would matter—but the second you cross the county line, your pussy starts aching like she knows she’s been abandoned. Like she misses his voice already.

You think about texting him before you even unpack your overnight bag.

 It starts that fast—barely through the front door, barely through dinner with your parents, barely through pretending to care about someone’s new side hustle or whatever cousin just had a baby, and already your mind is slipping. 

Already you’re restless. Already your body feels too awake. You can still feel the slick sticking to the inside of your thighs from last night, from the way he sat in that chair like he was doing you a favor while you touched yourself for the first time like it meant something. It hasn’t gone away. The ache stayed with you. 

That trembling throb between your legs that didn’t fade after one orgasm—or two—or three. And now, here you are. Sitting in your childhood bedroom like you didn’t just learn how to listen to your pussy in someone else’s bed with someone else’s voice in your ear.

You last all of twelve hours. Maybe thirteen if you count sleep, but that’s cheating. You keep checking your phone like a freak. Not even for a message—just to see his name.

 You scroll through the notifications like maybe he’ll magically show up. You open his contact. Stare at the little circle icon. You type a text. Delete it. 

Type again. Delete. Pace the room. Pull your hair up. Let it fall. Lie on the bed. Toss the blanket off. Roll onto your stomach, then your back, then sit up again because your body’s too hot and your thoughts won’t stop dragging back to the sound of his voice saying “Good girl. She’s listening now.”

You try to distract yourself. Put music on. Stare at the ceiling. Scroll through reels. But the tension is building and it’s not casual. It’s deep. It’s mean. 

Like your pussy’s crawling up your spine and whispering call him over and over again. And finally, like a fucking addict, you give in.

You don’t try to be subtle. Your fingers tremble as you type the message—“Can I call you?”—and hit send before you can regret it. Your breath catches in your throat. Heart pounding. Shame twisting in your gut like you’ve already crossed a line and he hasn’t even replied. But then your phone buzzes. Two texts in a row. You click without thinking.

No. I’ll call you.

Speaker on. Hands ready. Nothing else.

You don’t even get a second to prepare. The call comes in instantly, and you fumble to answer it, press speaker, toss the phone onto your pillow and sit back, legs shaking under your blanket. You’re wearing nothing but a big t-shirt—no bra, no panties. Like your body already knew what was coming.

His voice is in your ear the second the line connects.

Low. Thick. Wrecked.

“You waited all day just to fuck yourself to my voice, didn’t you?”

The sound alone makes your thighs clamp together. You can’t answer. You don’t know what to say. You feel called out, ruined, exposed, and he hasn’t even seen you.

“You’re pathetic,” he breathes, and it’s not cruel—it’s reverent. Like he’s turned on by the depth of your desperation. “You left for less than twenty-four hours and she’s already starving.”

Your breath comes out shaky. “She hasn’t shut up.”

“I bet. That little pussy’s been crying for attention, hasn’t she? Soaking your panties, throbbing for no reason. Did you even try to touch her?”

Your hand slides down your stomach. Shame floods your chest. “I tried last night.”

“And?”

Your fingers drift over your mound, soft and slow.

“…Didn’t work.”

“Of course it didn’t.” He doesn’t miss a beat. “Because she’s not trained to your fingers. She’s trained to my voice.”

You nearly choke.

“Take the blanket off.”

You do.

“T-shirt stays. I want you messy under it. Like a filthy little secret.”

You obey, chest rising. The air hits your bare skin and your nipples pebble instantly under the thin cotton. You slide your hand under the hem and find yourself dripping already—your folds slippery and warm, your clit throbbing at the first brush.

“Fuck. You’re already wet.”

You don’t answer.

“Don’t ignore me. Say it.”

You whimper. “I’m wet.”

“Where?”

Your hand slides lower. “Everywhere.”

“Let me hear it.”

You drag your fingers through your folds, then lift them to the mic.

Squish. Slick. Wet.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathes. “She’s fucking leaking for me.”

“She won’t stop,” you pant. “She’s been clenching—she’s needy. I can’t—I can’t even think straight.”

“She doesn’t need you to think. She needs you to listen.”

You nod like he can see you.

“You touching your clit yet?”

“No,” you whisper. “Just teasing.”

“Don’t tease her. Feed her.”

You obey. Your fingers find your clit and press slow, warm circles into the swollen skin. Your hips twitch immediately. Your body jolts with relief. Like it’s been waiting for this.

“Fuck. That’s it. Let her roll her hips. Let her grind on your fingers.”

You do.

And you moan. Loud. Wet. Pathetic.

“You sound like you’re crying.”

“I might be,” you choke out. “I’m—I’ve been on edge all day. She’s screaming—”

“Then shut her up.”

Your fingers move faster. Your breath turns ragged. The slick is everywhere now—coating your palm, sliding down your ass, soaking the sheets beneath you. You can hear it—slap, slap, slap—and you know he can too.

“God, listen to her,” he says. “She’s fucking talking again. Slapping wet, loud as hell, crying to be filled.”

Your thighs start to shake.

“Don’t you dare stop.”

“Heeseung—fuck, I’m close—”

“She wants to cum. So let her.”

You cum hard, back arching, legs tensed, voice cracking open around a sob as your pussy convulses around nothing—just your fingers, just your shame, just his voice dragging it out of you with nothing but command.

“Again,” he growls. “Don’t you dare take your hand off her. You begged for this. You waited all fucking day for it.”

You keep going. Because you can’t stop. Because this is his now.

-

You don’t get a break.

Heeseung doesn’t let you.

After that first call—the one where you came so hard you swore you saw stars—you thought maybe the tension would ease up. Maybe you’d get to breathe. But you don’t. Because the second you wake up the next morning, there’s already a text waiting for you.

Morning. She hungry?

Your pussy clenches on reflex.

You bite your lip, cheeks flushing under the covers.

Yes.

His reply is instant.

Good. edge yourself until you’re shaking. No cumming. No cheating. You’ll send me a pic of your fingers when you’re done.

That’s it. No teasing. No sweet talk. Just commands. Direct. Cruel. And of course—you obey.

You finger yourself that morning with shaking hands, grinding into your palm in the silence of your old bedroom with one hand over your mouth to muffle your cries. You stop just short of release three times. Your panties are soaked. The sheets beneath you are ruined.

You send the photo.

Two slick fingers, gleaming. One droplet hanging from your wrist like a taunt.

He doesn’t reply until hours later.

Beautiful. Don’t clean her up. Let her stick to your skin. I want her to haunt you all day.

That’s how it starts.

Sometimes it’s a call. Sometimes it’s just a photo prompt. Sometimes it’s voice notes—low, slow, whispered filth that you replay in the bathroom on full volume with your thighs clenched so tight you can barely breathe.

Another day: make a mess on your favorite pair of panties. Send proof. Don’t wash them. Fold them and put them in your drawer like a secret. Like she remembers.

When you can’t call—family dinners, company in the house, a wedding event—he doesn’t complain. He just adapts.

He sends you three voice notes in a row, each one filthier than the last.

“Are you wearing panties right now?”

“She’s wet just from this, isn’t she?”

“Put your phone between your legs. Let my voice buzz against her while you grind.”

You do. In the middle of the day. On the edge of your childhood bed. With the door locked and your hand clamped over your mouth to muffle the sound of you cumming on command.

Every time you text him, he knows what you need before you say it.

On your knees. Two fingers. Say my name when you finish. That’s all.

You cum like a trained animal.

By the end of the fourth day, you’re overstimulated and aching. Your cunt stays warm. Your clit stays swollen. You can’t think straight without hearing his voice. You can’t fall asleep without a pillow between your legs and your phone under your ear, replaying the way he said your name like it tasted good.

He doesn’t let you get comfortable.

I want her ruined by the time you get back. Wet stains on your thighs. Bruised from your own fingers. No excuses. You belong to me now, yeah?

-

You’re at the dinner table when the text comes in.

There’s a bowl of pasta in front of you. Your uncle’s talking about traffic. Your mom’s pouring more wine. And your phone buzzes in your lap—one tiny, harmless vibration you almost ignore until you see the name on your lockscreen.

Heeseung.

Your chest tightens immediately. A hot ripple runs down your spine. You unlock it under the table, heart already picking up speed, thighs pressed tight together like that’s gonna help anything.

You expect a voice note. Maybe an instruction. Instead, it’s just a single message.

Don’t open this here. I’m serious.

You excuse yourself. Bathroom. You try to walk casually, but your legs feel unstable, like your body knows what’s coming and is bracing for it. You shut the door. Lock it. Sit down on the closed toilet seat. And then you open the message.

It’s not a photo. Not a voice note. Just a block of text.

And it destroys you.

I want you dripping. Right now. I want your thighs sticky. I want your pussy hot and twitching and swollen like she’s just been edged for an hour and she’s still not allowed to cum. I want her pulsing around nothing. Squeezing air. Leaking like she misses my cock even though she’s never had it. That’s how good I want her trained. That she misses me even though I’ve never fucked her. I want you to slide your hand into your panties and feel her spit for me. Feel how filthy she’s gotten just from reading my words. Not even hearing my voice. Just letters on a screen and she’s frothing like a brainless little thing. I want her throbbing. Sore. Pink. Aching. I want you to pull your panties to the side and look at what I’ve done to you. How she opens for nothing. How she clenches for nothing. How she cries, fucking cries, when she doesn’t get touched. I want her messy. Slutty. Wet enough to embarrass you. Wet enough you can’t clean it up with one tissue. Wet enough that if someone walked into that bathroom right now, they’d smell her. No fingers. Not yet. Just pressure. Palm down. Let her hump. Let her grind. Let her get yourself dirty. She knows what to do. She doesn’t need permission anymore. You’re gonna leak down your leg just reading this, aren’t you? She’s already twitching. Already soaking. She knows what she is now. A thing that exists to be used. To be made wet. To be trained.

You stare at your screen. Eyes wide. Chest heaving.

And you feel it—that slow, steady drip.

You slide your hand down between your legs and whimper when your fingers meet your panties—soaked through. Hot and sticky, your folds puffy and swollen, everything throbbing with need.

You spread your legs wider. There’s no stopping it. You have to.

You push your panties aside, just like he said, and when you look down, your cunt is shining. Slick lips parted, clit swollen and begging, a string of wet clinging between your folds when you breathe too hard.

You cup her with your whole palm and rock once.

You grind again. Harder. The heel of your hand pressing directly on your clit. Your hips move faster, panting now, forehead pressed against your bent knee as your pussy humps your own hand like she’s starved.

You’re fucking yourself with no fingers. Just pressure. Just filth. Just his words rotting your brain and your pussy loving it.

You don’t stop until your legs lock, jaw clenched tight to muffle the moan that rips through your throat. Your pussy convulses, grinding down hard, cumming in waves against your own palm until you’re crying silently, thighs soaked, panties a mess, body twitching from the force of it.

When it’s over, you’re wrecked. You sit there in silence. Breathing heavy. Panties still pulled to the side, hand drenched, cunt gaping and twitching like she’s still looking for him.

You snap a photo.

Not of your face. Just your hand. Soaked. Ruined. Slick covering your wrist, dripping down your knuckles.

You send it. No caption. A minute later, his reply lights up your screen.

That’s how she’s supposed to look. Every day until you get home.

-

You don’t even knock.

You could, but what’s the point? He told you to come over as soon as you got back. No texts. No warning. Just a short message yesterday night:

You better show up dripping.

And you are.

The shorts you wore are damp at the crotch, your hoodie clinging to the sweat on your lower back. Every shift of your thighs against the car seat on the drive over made you squirm. By the time you’re standing in front of his door, your cunt is throbbing. Empty. Trained. Starving.

He opens it like he already knew you were there.

Barefoot. Hoodie. Nothing underneath.

He stares at you for a second, quiet. His eyes drop to your legs, to the way you’re fidgeting, clenching, trying not to press your thighs together. He doesn’t smile. He doesn’t speak.

Just opens the door wider and lets you in.

You step past him. Silent. Heat prickling under your skin. His presence is loud, even without words. You can feel the pressure building already—your pussy knows. She’s aware. Aware of the air, of the scent of him, of how close he is now after five days of only hearing him through a speaker.

He closes the door behind you. And waits.

You turn to him, hands still curled into your sleeves. “I did everything.”

He lifts a brow. “Yeah?”

You nod. Swallow hard. “Every day.”

Heeseung steps forward slowly. Stops in front of you. His eyes flick down, over your body, like he’s looking for confirmation.

“You leaking?”

Your breath catches. “Yes.”

“Prove it.”

Your heart slams against your ribs. But you don’t hesitate.

Your fingers hook into the waistband of your shorts and tug them down in one smooth motion. They hit the floor and you step out of them, bare underneath, thighs sticky and glistening. Your hoodie barely covers your hips now. One inch higher and he’d see everything.

He doesn’t touch you.

“Show me,” he says, voice low.

Your breath hitches again—but you drop to your knees. Not because he asked. Because your body knows what to do now.

You kneel between his feet on the hardwood floor, hands moving to part your thighs so he can see. You pull the hoodie up to your waist and slide two fingers between your folds—dripping. It spreads so easily. Glossy. Viscous. Your pussy folds open for your own touch like it’s nothing new. Like she’s been practicing all week.

You keep your eyes on him the whole time.

And when your fingers come back up, soaked and glistening, you hold them out. Heeseung watches you in silence.

Then leans forward, slow and deliberate. He takes your fingers into his mouth and sucks—deep, slow, tongue curling around them like it’s a reward.

Your hips jerk slightly. Your cunt clenches hard. He pulls off with a wet pop and stares down at you.

“She tastes trained.”

You nod.

“She beg yet?”

You exhale. “She never shut up.”

He clicks his tongue. “Yeah?”

Then he grabs your jaw. Fingers firm but not rough, tilting your face up to his.

“You want her filled?”

You nod again. “Please.”

“Not yet,” he says. “She’s not ready.”

“I’m ready—she’s so ready, I’ve been—”

“I don’t care what you think. You’re not here to make decisions. You’re here to do what I say.” He lets go of your face. “You wanna get fed? Earn it. Lay down. Show me how she begs.”

You scramble onto the bed.

Flat on your back. Legs spread. Cunt on display. Dripping.

You’re already on your back, knees drawn up, thighs spread and trembling, cunt pulsing with heat that’s been building all week. You don’t try to hide it. You can’t. Your pussy’s wet. Loud. Lips glossy and parted, folds flushed and twitching like she knows the moment has finally come. She’s been teased. Trained. Denied. You’ve been filling her with fingers and pressure and your own voice, but never this. Never him. And now he’s standing at the edge of the bed, staring down at you like he’s finally ready to eat.

But he doesn’t touch you first.

He picks your shorts up off the floor, turns them inside out—and finds your soaked panties tangled in the legs. He peels them out slowly, sticky with your slick, the thin fabric darkened and clinging to itself. You watch, breath caught, legs still open, burning with shame as he brings them up to his face.

And sniffs.

Deep.

He inhales like it’s a fucking ritual. Eyes half-lidded. Thumb pressing into the crotch to smear the wetness around before dragging it across his lip. His tongue flicks out—tastes it.

“Jesus fuck,” he mutters under his breath. “She’s been marinating in this.”

Your body jolts. Your hands fist the sheets.

“She’s loud, too.” His voice drops lower. “I haven’t even touched her and she’s already talking. Look at her. Fucking twitching. Dripping. Spreading herself open like she knows who she belongs to.”

“Heeseung—” You whimper.

“Shut up.”

He tosses your panties to the side and climbs onto the bed, slow and smooth, eyes never leaving your cunt. He settles between your legs and just kneels there for a moment. Breathing her in. Hands on your thighs. Pushing them wider. Spreading you so open you can feel the air hit your slick.

You’re soaked. You know it. You can feel it, the slick sliding down into the dip of your ass, the way your folds part with every breath, your clit poking out, hot and swollen.

He just stares.

“You fucking trained her like this,” he mutters, almost to himself. “You really did it. Came like a good little slut every night just to keep her hungry.”

“She’s starving,” you whisper, voice shaking.

“I can see that.”

His thumbs press into the crease of your thighs, holding you open. His face lowers. Inches away. His breath hits your folds and your hips twitch violently.

He doesn’t lick you.

Not yet.

He just hovers. His nose skims your inner thigh. Then up. Right up the slick slit, dragging his breath across your folds until your body shudders. He breathes her in again—this time slower. Longer. Right at the source.

“God,” he mutters. “She fucking smells like obedience.”

You sob.

And then he spits.

Right on your pussy.

Hot. Heavy. Messy.

It splashes over your clit, drips between your folds, mixes with your slick and makes everything worse.

Your hips roll. You can’t stop it.

“Don’t you fucking move,” he growls. “She’s getting attention. She better stay still.”

And finally—finally—his tongue drags up your slit. A long, slow lick from hole to clit that ends with his mouth wrapped around it, sucking hard.

Your hands fly to his hair. Your spine arches off the bed.

But he pins you with one forearm across your stomach and doesn’t stop.

He eats you like a man starved. Like you’ve been feeding her for him. Keeping her ready. Keeping her needy. His mouth is everywhere—tongue licking up everything you’ve been saving, spit and slick and mess pooling under your ass while he moans into you.

“That’s it,” he groans against your clit. “Let me taste five fucking days of begging.”

You cry out, thighs clenching.

But he slaps your pussy with his hand—sharp, wet, punishing.

“Open.”

You go limp. You can’t fight it. You don’t want to.

He eats you like it’s personal. Tongue flat. Licking. Circling. Spitting again. Your clit’s too swollen, too sensitive, but he doesn’t care. He mumbles into you—filth you can barely understand because he’s too focused on devouring.

“She’s so fucking loud. She won’t shut up. You hear that?”

You do.

Your pussy makes noise with every lick—squelching, wet, obscene.

“I didn’t even fuck her yet,” he growls. “And she’s already creaming.”

You try to cum. You try.

But he pulls back just as your thighs start to shake, just as your stomach seizes.

“Nope. She’s not getting fed all the way until I’ve felt her on my cock.”

You nod frantically, fingers gripping the sheets, desperate.

Heeseung leans back, licking his lips, chin soaked, eyes wild.

“She’s ready,” he says. “She’s starving.”

He’s already got two fingers hooked inside you when he tells you to open your mouth.

Not to kiss him. Not to speak. Just to take it.

He shoves his fingers past your lips—soaked in your own slick, the same fingers he’s been curling deep inside your cunt, dragging against that spot that makes your eyes roll back. You gag around them, moaning as the taste floods your tongue—salty, sour, yours. He pushes them down onto your tongue, presses hard until your spit leaks out around them and drips down your chin.

“Swallow it,” he mutters, eyes locked on your face. “That’s what obedience tastes like.”

You do. Of course you do.

Because you’d do anything he says.

And he knows it.

He wipes the slick from your lips with his thumb, drags it down your throat, then shifts forward—kneeling between your trembling thighs, lining himself up with your soaked entrance like he’s been waiting years for this moment.

You stare down at his cock, thick and flushed and leaking at the tip, and your whole body tenses. You’re already open, already dripping, already fucked dumb—but none of it’s going to prepare you for this.

“Look at her,” he mutters under his breath, dragging the head of his cock through your folds, smearing pre-cum across your clit. “She’s fucking begging.”

“She wants it,” you pant, voice shaking. “Please—”

He doesn’t give you time to finish.

He presses in—slow, deep, cruel.

The stretch hits you all at once. Your back arches. Your breath leaves you in a choked gasp, and your pussy clenches hardaround him, sucking him in inch by inch like she never wants to let him go.

“Ohhh, fuck,” he groans. “She’s trained alright.”

You moan. Loud. Desperate. Writhing beneath him as he bottoms out, his hips flush against your ass, his cock buried all the way to the base.

She’s full.

Finally fucking full.

Your cunt grips him tight, fluttering around his cock like she’s been starving for it—and she has. Every inch of him hits something you didn’t know existed. Your body shakes under the pressure. You’re soaked. Stuffed. Used. And you want more.

“Say it,” he growls. “Say what she is.”

“She’s yours,” you gasp. “She’s a hole—your hole—she’s been waiting for this—”

He pulls out halfway, then slams back in.

You scream.

“You’re goddamn right she’s mine,” he snarls. “You trained her just to take my cock.”

You nod frantically, crying now, pleasure too thick in your throat to hold back.

He starts to fuck you in earnest—hard, relentless, loud. Skin slapping skin. His cock slick from your wetness, dragging through every twitch and squeeze, pressing deep, deeper, forcing your body to stay open for him. You feel it in your stomach. Your spine. Your fucking brain.

Every thrust knocks your thoughts loose. And you want to thank him. You want to feel him. You want to taste him.

So you lift your head—try to kiss him.

You lean up, lips parting, mouth open and begging.

He pulls back.

His hand grabs your throat, presses you flat into the mattress. You gasp, eyes wide, blinking up at him in confusion. He smiles. Cruel. Mocking.

“No,” he says coldly. “You don’t deserve to be kissed.”

Your breath shatters.

“Kisses are for good girls,” he spits. “You’re just a trained little hole.”

Your pussy clenches around him so violently he groans.

“That’s all you are now, isn’t it?” he sneers. “A stupid little cunt that opens on command. You get used, not kissed.”

Tears spill over your cheeks.

And you cum. Just like that.

From the words. From the shame. From the humiliation.

Your pussy spasms around his cock, soaking both of you as you scream into his hand still wrapped around your throat. Your hips jerk. Your vision goes white. But he doesn’t stop.

He fucks you through it, hips pounding, cock punching into your oversensitive cunt like he’s trying to reprogram you from the inside out.

“That’s it,” he pants. “Let her milk me. Let her show me how much she needed this.”

You’re sobbing. Gasping. Too wrecked to speak.

“Fucking knew it,” he groans. “You were never gonna be satisfied until you got split open.”

He leans down, mouth right by your ear.

“But don’t ever reach for a kiss again. Sluts like you don’t get kissed.”

You’re already limp when he flips you.

Your body gives out so easily—shoulders pressed into the mattress, arms numb, legs trembling, hips cocked up on instinct the second he yanks you onto your stomach. His hands drag you by the waist like a ragdoll. Like something boneless, brainless, ruined. Your face is buried in the pillow. Your cheek sticks to the fabric. You’re crying, still, but there’s no shame left. Just the raw ache of your cunt pulsing around nothing—because he pulled out.

You whine, pathetic and wordless, hips rolling back into the air, leaking down your thighs.

“Still hungry?” he mutters behind you.

You nod into the pillow.

“Say it.”

“She’s empty,” you whimper. “She’s twitching—she wants you back in—she’s not done—she’s never done—”

You gasp when the head of his cock slides back in. Just the tip.

He doesn’t give you the rest.

You wiggle. Cry. Press your ass back against him and moan when your folds stretch again, split open all over his length.

“You trained her to take it,” he says. “Now you’re gonna train her to keep it.”

He presses forward.

His cock buries to the hilt in one brutal thrust, and your whole body spasms. Your hands claw at the sheets. Your cunt clenches so violently it forces a sob out of your chest, high-pitched and broken. You’re still sensitive. Still throbbing from the last orgasm. But he doesn’t care.

He starts fucking you again like he owns you.

The slap of skin echoes in the room, wet and obscene, his cock pounding into your raw pussy like she’s just a hole to conquer. You don’t even try to move anymore. Your body takes it. Open, obedient, used.

“You like that?” he pants. “You like being my little fucktoy?”

“Yeah, you do. You’re trained now. A good little cocksleeve who comes when she’s told. Cries when she’s full. Cums from being humiliated.”

“I do,” you choke out. “I’m yours—I’m your toy—just your fucktoy—use me—use her—”

“That’s it,” he growls. “That’s what she wanted, isn’t it? Not kindness. Not kisses. Just cock. Just someone to shove it in and remind her she’s nothing but a messy, wet little pussy.”

He thrusts harder. You scream into the sheets.

“She’s so loud,” he snarls. “So fucking wet. She’s gushing. Every time I pull out she cries.”

You don’t even recognize your own voice when you cum again.

It’s raw. Ugly. Loud.

You scream—clawing at the sheets, nails ripping fabric, your body wracked with spasms as you squirt all over his cock, wet exploding out of you in waves, soaking the bed, your stomach, your thighs. You can’t stop it. You don’t want to.

He fucks you through it—harder.

“Let her break,” he growls. “Let her fucking split.”

And when your body finally collapses, hips falling, spine trembling, Heeseung doesn’t even slow down.

He grabs your hips, hauls you up, and drives in deep one more time—and stays there. His cock pulses inside you. Thick. Hot. Flooding you.

You feel it. You feel his cum shoot deep, thick ropes filling your already ruined pussy until your belly aches with it.

He stays inside. Keeps you cockwarmed, plugged full, hands rubbing down your spine like this is the aftercare.

Not words. Not love. Just being kept full. Like you should be.

You barely breathe. Your eyes are glassy. Your mouth’s open. You feel him lean over you. Feel the slow drag of his lips against your ear.

“You’re not starved anymore,” he whispers. “She’s fed now. Finally.”

You nod. Barely. Weak. Fucked out. His cock twitches.

“She’s still twitching,” he murmurs. “She wants to sleep like this.”

-

You wake up to the burn in your thighs.

The stretch. The ache. That slick-dried, too-sensitive sting between your legs from being filled for hours without a break. Your skin’s flushed. Clammy. You shift slightly under the covers, still half-asleep, and you feel it—him.

Still there. Still inside you.

You blink. Breathe. Try to make sense of your body—but the pressure between your legs is still warm. Your cunt clenches instinctively, and his cock twitches in response.

A slow, deep ache spreads in your gut.

His arm is draped over your waist. His chest is pressed against your back. He’s asleep—soft breaths on your shoulder, jaw resting against the side of your head. And his cock is still buried to the base in your pussy. Warm. Heavy. Plugging you full like it belongs there.

But something else creeps in too.

You lie there for a moment. Silent. Still. Pussy fluttering, heartbeat slowing, and that awful little ache growing in your chest. The one that started the second he pulled away last night. The one that settled into your ribs when you reached for him and he said “You don’t deserve to be kissed.”

You swallow. You whisper it before you even think about it.

“Are you really not gonna kiss me?”

It’s soft. Not needy. Just… there.

His breath shifts against your skin. His arm tightens slightly around your waist.

You almost regret asking.

Until he exhales through his nose and mutters, voice rough and low and real, “I’m still fucking inside you, you brat. You think I’m gonna spend the whole night cockwarming my favorite pussy and not kiss her in the morning?”

You twist under him, face flushed, and turn your head over your shoulder—and his mouth is already there.

No hesitation. He kisses you hard.

Mouth slanting over yours, tongue sliding in with no patience, lips full and hot and filthy with morning breath and spit. You moan into it, deep and broken, cunt clenching around his cock again like she’s reacting to the kiss like it’s touch.

His hand grips your jaw, thumb dragging over your cheek as he devours your mouth. He licks into you like he means it—like you’ve earned it—like he’s been wanting to do it since before he ever called you a slut.

You’re whimpering into his mouth when it happens.

Your lips slide against his, sticky with spit, your breath still uneven from how long you spent crying into the pillow, your cunt still fluttering weakly around his cock. He hasn’t pulled out. He’s still inside you. Still twitching, half-hard again already, thick and warm, stretching your still-leaking pussy while your body curls back into him, needy and clingy and soft in a way you didn’t get to be last night.

His hand cups your jaw now. Gentle. Finally. His thumb drags along your lower lip, slow and possessive, like he’s re-learning your mouth after denying it. His tongue pushes into you with unhurried filth, and your hips shift just barely, like your cunt’s trying to pull more of him in. Like she doesn’t even know how to be empty anymore.

And then you hear it.

“Heeseung?”

It’s distant. Not loud. Sleepy. But your blood freezes.

“Hey—have you seen Y/N?”

Evie. She’s awake. The breath dies in your throat.

Your eyes fly open. Heeseung’s hand freezes on your jaw. Your whole body locks. His cock is still deep inside you, softening now, but still heavy. Still leaking. You can feel him dripping down your inner thighs as your brain flips inside out with panic.

“Shit,” you mouth, barely audible.

Heeseung exhales through his nose, calm, but his arm is already tightening around your waist like he’s trying to figure out his next move in real time.

“Y/N?” she calls again. “Where’d you go?”

You scramble out of the bed like you’ve been shot. Legs wobbly. Pussy sore. You trip over the blanket as you reach for your discarded clothes, yanking your hoodie on over your head, trying not to scream as your shorts catch on your ankle. You’re still soaked, your panties still twisted around your thigh from where he shoved them earlier, and you can feel his cum still inside you, wet and hot and fucking obvious.

Heeseung’s already sitting up, dragging his hoodie on, running a hand through his hair to make it look like he just woke up.

You’re panicking. “Do I go back to her room? What do I do—what if she’s in the hallway—?”

Heeseung stands up, grabs your shoulders, kisses your forehead once—quick, mocking, cocky—like this is funny to him.

“Bathroom. Now.”

You sprint for it. Just as he opens his door.

His voice is casual. Sleep-rough.

“Yo.”

“You seen Y/N? I woke up and she wasn’t in bed. Her stuff’s still there though.”

Heeseung stretches in the doorway, voice smooth as fucking silk.

“Nah, haven’t seen her. She probably went to the bathroom.”

“She didn’t text me.”

“She probably didn’t want to wake you.”

You’re crouched in the bathroom, hands over your mouth, hoodie soaked at the hem, thighs still trembling. You glance down and see a smear of his cum on your leg, glistening in the morning light like a neon sign of guilt.

“Whatever. Tell her I’m making pancakes.”

“Will do.”

Door shuts. Heeseung turns, leans into the bathroom, finds you crouched by the sink.

“You owe me.”

You punch his chest.

He grabs your wrist. Kisses it.

“Don’t worry,” he whispers, voice low. “You’ll pay me back tonight."

-

It’s early.

Evie’s downstairs making coffee. You can hear the clinking of mugs, the stupid hum of whatever playlist she plays when she’s in a good mood.

You’re in Heeseung’s lap. Hoodie on. No underwear. His back’s against the headboard, his cock deep inside you, and you’re grinding slowly—hips circling, cunt fluttering, hands pressed to his chest to keep yourself upright.

You’re not allowed to bounce. Not allowed to moan.

Just slow, controlled rolls—like you’re milking him without giving yourself away.

“You sound like you want her to know,” he whispers against your throat.

You shake your head. Breathe through your nose. Keep moving.

“Then be quiet, baby. Or I’ll hold your mouth and your hips still, and you won’t cum at all.”

You almost cry. He grabs your ass. Tilts your hips just right.

“If she walks in, you better keep her name off your lips while I fill you up.”

You do. Barely.

You cum with your hand clamped over your mouth, twitching around his cock like you were made for it—and Heeseung cums seconds later, low and quiet, mouth on your collarbone.

Downstairs?

Evie sings along to the chorus.

-

It’s disgusting.

There’s no other word for it.

You’re on all fours, face buried in Heeseung’s mattress, drooling, moaning, thighs trembling with every wet squelch of his fingers plunging into you from behind. His mouth is glued to your cunt, spit running down his chin, tongue working your clit in slow, sloppy laps while one hand spreads you open—and the other, lower, slick with your cum, is rubbing tight circles around your asshole.

You’re whining his name. Filthy. Wordless. Brain-melted.

“Fuck, she’s drooling for it,” he mutters into your pussy. “She wants both. She’s ready. One in her ass, two in her cunt—you wanna be stretched like a proper little hole, huh?”

Your face is soaked. Your body’s trembling. Your pussy flutters around his fingers, slick squelching with every slow drag in and out. Your rim clenches, raw and wet from the friction. You try to answer, but all that comes out is a pathetic sob.

“Say it,” he growls. “Say what she wants.”

“I want it,” you gasp, voice cracking. “I want you to open my ass—wanna be full, wanna cum like a fucktoy—please—please—”

And then—

“Y/N?”

You hear your name like it’s being spoken through a tunnel.

You freeze.

Every muscle in your body locks.

Heeseung doesn’t move.

You can feel his tongue hovering right at your clit. His finger is still circling your asshole.

And then you both look up.

In the doorway. Mouth open. Eyes wide. Chest heaving.

Evie.

Her face doesn’t go red. It goes white. Like her blood just dropped to her feet.

She stares at your body—at your back arched, knees wide, your ass open, Heeseung’s hand buried between your cheeks, your best friend’s brother with his mouth on you and your spit in his beard.

And then she gags. Audibly. Violently.

Her whole body jolts forward like she’s about to puke right there in the hallway.

“Oh my—fucking—god—” she chokes. “What the—what the FUCK—”

She turns. Presses her palm to the wall. Leans into it. Her other hand clamps over her mouth and you see her shoulders jerk. Once. Twice. A horrible, broken sound crawls out of her throat.

“No—no—no—no, no, no—”

She’s panicking.

Can’t breathe. Her body is shaking so hard you think she might collapse.

“Evie—” you start, voice already wet. “Evie, please—please just listen—”

“DON’T.”

The scream hits like a slap.

“Don’t talk to me. Don’t—don’t even say my fucking name—”

You’re sobbing now. Reaching for the blanket. Falling off the bed. Barely able to pull your hoodie down over your sticky, twitching body.

Heeseung moves. Not fast enough. Still shirtless. Still hard. His fingers still glistening.

“Heejoo—”

“DON’T. CALL ME THAT.” Her voice is shrill, raw, wrecked. “You’re my fucking brother.”

She looks at you. Like she doesn’t even know you.

And then her expression cracks completely.

Her face contorts—pain, betrayal, disgust, hatred—all in one devastating collapse.

“You were inside her,” she whispers, and her voice breaks. “You had your—your—you were licking her while you were fingering her ass—”

“You’re both fucking insane.”

You crawl toward her. Not thinking. Just begging. Your knees burn. Your hands shake.

“Evie—please—please just let me explain—”

She flinches.

Flinches.

Like your voice touched her skin. Then she goes still. Her breathing slows. Her hands drop to her sides.

She looks empty.

“Don’t come near me.”

Her voice is flat now. Robotic.

“Don’t talk to me. Don’t look at me. Don’t even fucking breathe in my direction.”

You can’t speak. Can’t move. She steps back.

Looks at Heeseung. Then at you.

“You’re both dead to me.”

-

​​You don’t remember the walk home.

You don’t remember grabbing your phone, or leaving the house, or what the weather was like. You don’t remember how long you cried, or how many people stared, or how fucking long it took for the heat between your legs to fade into something cold and ugly. You just remember sitting on your bedroom floor—hoodie still wet between your thighs, your underwear balled up in your pocket—and trying to breathe without choking on it.

Because it doesn’t stop. The image. Her face.

Evie, hand over her mouth. Evie, gagging. Evie, stepping back like you were something dirty.

She meant it. Every word.

“Don’t talk to me. Don’t look at me. Don’t fucking breathe in my direction.”

She meant it.

You try to text her that night. You don’t even know what to say. There are three different messages in your drafts: one with just her name. One that says “I’m sorry.” One that says nothing at all.

They don’t send. You’ve been blocked.

He doesn’t text either. You don’t even know if he can.

The silence is so big it feels like a second death. You lie in bed every night with your phone face-up on your pillow, waiting for it to light up with anything. A call. A voice note. Just a name.

It never comes.

But you still feel him. In your body. In your bones.

Every time you try to sleep, your body curls like it’s expecting to be filled.

Some nights you wake up sweating—panting, pussy twitching—because you dreamed of his voice again.

You still miss him. Even after all of it. Even after how it ended.

Even after Evie’s face broke in half at the sight of you—wet, spread open, her brother’s finger sliding into your ass while you begged for more.

You still miss him. And that’s the part that makes you sick.

-

It’s been nearly two weeks since you watched Evie recoil in that doorway, hand clamped over her mouth like she was actually going to vomit.

You can’t erase the memory of her face—how disgust bled into betrayal, how her gaze slid right past you like you didn’t exist, then landed on Heeseung as if he were some twisted stranger in her own home. You tried to bury the image, tried to make it small and unimportant, but it lives in your chest now, swelling every time you breathe.

You haven’t talked to either of them since. Not one word to her, not a single text to him.

It’s as if the world paused on that moment: her voice ripping through the room, your body half-naked, his spit drying on your thighs, your stomach churning with guilt.

Now the doorbell rings, and somehow you already know who’s on the other side.

You open it slowly, hesitation weighing on every movement of your hand.

Heeseung stands there in a wrinkled hoodie, dark circles stamped beneath his eyes. He looks thinner—like the shape of him has caved in from the inside out. His hair is unstyled, his shoulders hunched, and the way he stares at you feels desperate.

Neither of you speak for a few seconds, the silence pressing into your lungs.

Then you break it, because you can’t handle him looking at you like that. “Why are you here?” Your voice comes out flat, echoing the numbness you’ve been living in.

Heeseung swallows, gaze skittering between your face and the ground.

“I had to see you.”

The words feel like they’re meant to fix something, but all they do is twist the knife. You give a hollow laugh, but there’s no humor in it.

“You already saw enough.”

He exhales shakily, bringing a hand up to scrub at the back of his neck.

“I’m not asking you to forgive me,” he says, eyes flicking up to meet yours. “I know that’s not—there’s nothing I can—” He trails off, struggling, guilt carved into every line of his face. When he finally speaks again, his voice strains.

“You think we haven’t replayed it a hundred fucking times?” he asks. “The door. The blanket. You moaning. Me—God—we were still fucking with each other right there, even when she—”

“Stop.” Your voice cracks. “Don’t say it.”

“We saw her face,” his voice keeps going, low and fast and pained. “We saw it, and we still didn’t stop, like fucking animals. I see it every time I close my eyes. I hear her say my name like I was never hers, like you were never her friend.”

You speak,

“I can’t look at you without hearing her gag.”

The confession slashes the air, and his lips part like you’ve slapped him.

“I can’t hear your name without remembering what it felt like to be in her house, in her family, doing… that, while she thought I was asleep down the hall.”

For a moment, neither of you breathe. Then he forces himself to speak, voice cracking.

“I know. I fucking know, and I hate that we didn’t let go even when we heard her. I hate that she looked at us like we were monsters. I hate that part of me still wanted to stay inside you, and part of you still wanted me there, when we should’ve both stopped.”

You close your eyes, replaying Evie’s strangled gasp in your head, recalling the numb disbelief that followed when she told you not to speak, not to look, not to fucking breathe in her direction.

“I can’t talk to you,” you whisper, voice trembling despite your best efforts. “I can’t even hear your name without feeling sick.”

He swallows and nods, like he’s been waiting for those exact words. “I’m sorry,” he says, and he sounds like he’s about to shatter. “I won’t—if you never want to see me again, I understand.” He drags in a breath that rattles in his chest. “I just needed to know you were… alive.”

For a moment, you want to ask him if he’s okay too, if he’s been eating or sleeping, if he wakes up sweating like you do. But you lock it down, because you can’t afford to care right now.

“Well,” you say, and your voice is colder than you intend, “now you’ve seen me. Congratulations.”

A faint tremor passes through him, and he nods once. There’s nothing else. No lecture, no pleading. He just steps back, shoulders slumped, and turns away.

-

It happens in the grocery store, of all places. You’re pushing a half-empty cart down the cereal aisle, trying not to think about how much quieter life has been since you lost your best friend and the boy you broke her heart with. You’re scanning the shelves for something to distract you when you catch sight of a familiar figure at the other end of the row. 

Your heart lurches, your fingers tightening on the cart handle as your stomach flips. 

Because there, frowning at the boxes of cereal, is Evie—or Heejoo, or however she wants to be called now. You don’t have time to decide whether you should turn and run or force a hollow smile. She glances up, and your eyes meet. Neither of you moves.

 The aisle feels too narrow. Her cart sits between you, an invisible barrier.

She looks different—her hair is shorter or maybe just pulled back in a careless ponytail, dark smudges under her eyes, shoulders tense. She seems hollowed out in the same way you feel. 

Some part of you wants to say hey or I miss you or please talk to me, but the words dissolve in your throat. She’s the one who steps forward first, letting her cart roll behind her. Her heels click on the tile, echoing your every heartbeat.

“Having fun?” she asks, and it doesn’t sound like a question so much as a thinly-veiled jab.

You grip the handle of your cart, mouth suddenly too dry to speak.

“Evie—”

“Don’t call me that,” she snaps, eyes flicking away like the name itself stings. “You don’t get to pretend we’re okay. You don’t get to act like we’re still friends.”

Her arms fold across her chest, nostrils flaring with each breath, and you feel your own pulse jump in your neck. “I—I’m sorry,” you manage, voice trembling. It’s not enough, you know that.

She scoffs, a breathy, humorless sound. “That’s it? You’re sorry? You think that magically fixes everything?” She gestures sharply, and you notice how tightly she’s clenching her fists. “You screwed around with my brother like it was nothing, and I walked in on—” Her voice breaks, face twisting as she fights off the memory. “I was just the idiot friend who never saw it coming, right?”

Shame flares in your cheeks. You hold your ground, though it hurts to meet her eyes. “I know I betrayed you,” you say. “We—God, I don’t even have the words for how messed up it was. We both knew better. We both let it happen.”

Her hand lifts to cut you off, shaking with the effort. “You think it’s just that you hurt me?” Her voice wobbles between anger and heartbreak. “You hurt him too, you realize that? He was my brother, you were my best friend, and you both blew yourselves up in front of me. Like you had no idea what it would cost.”

Your stomach knots in a way you haven’t felt before. She’s right. It wasn’t just her—it wasn’t just you. It was all three of you, tangling and twisting until it snapped. “I know,” you say more quietly. “And we’re all paying for it. He’s… he’s not okay. I’m not okay. And you’re definitely not okay. There’s no part of this that isn’t broken.”

She lets out a short, bitter laugh. “Do you think that helps? Hearing you say it’s broken doesn’t change the fact that I can’t even look at either of you without wanting to scream.”

You bow your head, voice almost inaudible. “I wish I could take it back.”

She swallows, and for a fraction of a second, the hostility in her eyes flickers with pain. “Well, you can’t.” Her grip tightens on the cart handle until her knuckles whiten, and she exhales shakily. 

“I want my brother back, you know. I want my friend back. But I don’t get either of those things, because you two decided to… to destroy what we had.”

Your throat closes up, tears pricking at your eyes. “I’m sorry.”

She stares for another few seconds, jaw clenched as she holds herself together. Then she moves around you, snatching her cart by the handle, the wheels squeaking in protest. 

“Enjoy the produce,” she mutters under her breath, voice dripping with bitterness as she passes.

-

It doesn’t happen overnight.

 There’s no single conversation that wipes the slate clean, no perfect gesture that makes Evie’s betrayal vanish, no magic wand that repairs the gaping wound in your chest. 

But over time—slow, grudging, step by hesitant step—you all begin to realize that staying in this darkness is killing you. Staying strangers, orbiting the same guilt without looking one another in the eye, is worse than facing the truth. And that truth is messy, fragile, and riddled with scars.

It begins with Evie texting you, late at night, a week after the grocery store encounter. 

Just three words: We need to talk.

You stare at the screen for a solid minute, heart pounding like it’s trying to break out of your chest. 

Your hands shake as you reply, Yeah, okay. 

That’s all. No apology, no second-guessing, just acceptance. You wait for her to say when or where, but she doesn’t text back until the next afternoon, telling you to meet her at the park near her house. 

And then she clarifies: Just you.

You show up after sunset, nerves jangling in every limb, expecting hostility, or silence, or both. 

Instead, you find Evie sitting on a faded wooden bench under a flickering streetlight. She looks smaller than you remember, knees drawn up under her chin, arms hugging herself for warmth. As you approach, you open your mouth to say something—anything—but she holds up a hand, shaking her head.

“Don’t,” she says, voice tight. “Not yet.”

You stand there, awkward and guilty, waiting for her permission to speak.

She lowers her hand and sighs, staring at a patch of dead grass near her feet. “I asked you here because… this is killing me,” she mutters. “Being this angry all the time. Hating you. Hating him. I can’t keep up with it. It’s turning me into someone I don’t recognize.”

Her words break something inside your chest, and your throat goes thick. You sit down on the far edge of the bench, leaving a wide space between you, unsure if you’re allowed to be any closer. “I… I know,” you manage, voice unsteady. “I feel it too. It’s like I’m rotting on the inside.”

She nods once, gaze flicking to you before sliding away again. “I’m not saying I forgive you,” she warns, and you nod, heart pounding. “I’m just saying I don’t want this to be my life anymore. This—rage. It’s not me.”

She exhales, shoulders curling inward. “And I loved you. You were my best friend. And he… he’s my brother, and I loved him too. So how did we all end up here?”

Silence lingers. You fight back tears that threaten to spill. 

“We messed up,” you whisper, voice cracking. “We both did. Me and him. We used your house, your trust, your everything for our own messed-up… needs, and it was stupid and selfish and we ended up shattering everything.” You swallow a lump in your throat. “I know none of that fixes it. But I swear to you, we never wanted to hurt you.”

Evie laughs bitterly, a hollow sound. “Well, you did. And I can’t pretend you didn’t.” 

Her gaze shifts to the distance, to the halo of light under the streetlamp. “But I don’t know if I can keep hating you. Or him.” 

She hesitates, words coming out slow. “I saw him last week. He looked—God, I hardly recognized him. Like a ghost of himself.”

You nod, biting back the urge to defend him or to ask a dozen questions. “He’s… not doing great,” you say simply, remembering his hollow cheeks, the way his voice cracked when he said he couldn’t sleep.

She wraps her arms tighter around herself, rocking slightly. “Neither are we,” she points out. “None of us are okay. And I guess that’s what I’m realizing. That we’re all stuck in the same crater, staring at the same wreckage. Maybe we shouldn’t be trying to fix it on our own.”

Your eyes burn with unshed tears. “What do you want to do?” you ask, feeling the weight of her words press into your chest.

She’s quiet for a long moment. Then she looks directly at you, tears shimmering at the edges of her eyes. “I want us to talk,” she says. “All three of us. In one place. I want us to put it all on the table, no hiding, no running out. Because if there’s any chance of moving forward—together or apart—we have to face it."

“I’ll text him,” she says, voice ragged. “Don’t expect miracles. But I can’t do this alone.”

A teardrop escapes your lashes and slips down your cheek. “Neither can I,” you whisper. “Thank you.”

She doesn’t respond, just stands up and motions for you to follow. 

-

Evie’s living room is dimly lit, and the air feels thicker than it should—as if everything you’ve said to each other in the last hour is still hovering in the space between. Outside, it’s already dark, the muffled hum of passing cars bleeding in through the windows. You’re all drained—physically, emotionally—yet no one moves to leave. Not yet. It’s not finished.

Evie is perched on the armchair, knees drawn close to her chest. You’re on one end of the couch, Heeseung on the other, and there’s still a gulf of guilt and confusion separating you. But you can feel the conversation building toward something bigger than apologies or confessions of regret.

Evie tugs at the sleeves of her sweater. She glances between you and her brother, mouth pinched tight, but her voice is gentler than before.

“I’m not pretending this is easy,” she begins, clearing her throat. “We’ve all hurt each other. I just want to know what you… what you both actually feel.” Her gaze settles on you, question clear in her eyes. “Do you two even care about each other beyond… beyond whatever it was you were doing?”

You swallow, your mouth dry. This is the moment you’ve been pushing down for weeks, refusing to think about. The reason you woke up gasping sometimes, alone in your bed, missing a warmth you never should have craved in the first place. You take a shaky breath, feeling your pulse hammer in your temples.

“I—” you begin, then stop. Your voice wavers, but you force yourself to speak. “I’m in love with him.”

It comes out bare, unpolished, stripped of excuses. You feel the words echo in your chest, leaving you vulnerable. Across the room, Evie’s eyes widen for half a second, and you can see her guard tighten, just a bit.

Heeseung exhales sharply, his head snapping up. You can’t bring yourself to meet his gaze. Instead, you focus on the floor, heart pounding.

“I know,” you continue, voice trembling, “that he might not feel the same way. I know we started this all wrong, that I messed up your trust, that I hurt you”—you glance at Evie—“and maybe I don’t deserve a happy ending. But I can’t keep pretending I don’t love him just because I’m ashamed of how we got here.”

Evie inhales like she’s bracing for another blow, her arms tightening around her knees.

“You’re saying you love him, even if he doesn’t love you back?” she asks, carefully, like she’s afraid of the answer.

You let out a breath that feels like it’s been caged in your ribs for months.

“Yes. It’s not… it’s not his responsibility. If it’s one-sided, that’s on me.” You glance fleetingly at Heeseung, face flushing. “I don’t expect anything from him, or from you. I just—” Your voice cracks. “I needed to say it out loud.”

Silence envelops the room, charged with tension. Heeseung is staring at you, eyes wide and glossy, like you’ve knocked the air from his lungs. Evie shifts, chewing on the inside of her lip.

Heeseung finally speaks, voice rough.

“You… love me?”

You manage a small, trembling nod. “I do,” you say, meeting his gaze at last. “And if you don’t love me back, that’s okay. I know how messed up this is. I’m ready to… to accept that.”

He looks startled, as if no part of him expected you to be okay with that possibility. His hands flex on his knees, knuckles blanching. Then he breathes out, shoulders sagging.

“God,” he murmurs, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievably stupid.”

You flinch, heart jolting—though there’s no real malice in his tone, only a shaky awe and raw disbelief that seems to be tying him in knots. He forces himself to meet Evie’s eyes for a flicker of a second, as if silently asking for permission to go on.

“Don’t call her that,” Evie snaps, voice quivering at the edges. She fixes him with a sharp glare, arms folded tight across her chest. “I don’t care how you meant it—she’s not stupid, and you don’t get to insult her in front of me.”

“Shut the fuck up Evie, one second,” He turns to you, “Because you think I’m not in love with you? That I’d leave you hanging with all this guilt?”

Your heart stutters, the floor tilting under you. “Heeseung…”

“I’m in love with you too,” he says, and the words hang in the air with tangible weight. “I can’t believe you’d be ready to walk away, believing it was one-sided. That you’d… accept it. God, do you have any idea how much it hurts to see you in so much pain, thinking I don’t feel the same?”

A soft sound escapes your throat—some blend of relief and shock—and tears gather at the edges of your vision. Across the room, Evie exhales shakily, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment. You can see the swirl of emotions crossing her features: anger, hurt, jealousy, and underneath it all, a lingering care for you both.

Heeseung scrubs a hand over his face, then looks to Evie, voice trembling.

“I love her. I know I messed up. We messed up. We never should’ve lied. But I can’t take back how I feel.”

Evie drags in a deep breath. She pushes herself up from the armchair, pacing a short line across the living room. Her head is down, hands in her hair. When she finally looks at you both, there’s pain in her eyes, but not the same raw fury as before.

“Jesus,” she mutters. “You two…” She chews the inside of her cheek. “I hate what you did. I hate how you did it. But if you love each other—really love each other—I can’t tell you not to.”

 Her shoulders slump. “I want to be angry forever, but… seeing you like this, I—” She presses her lips together, tears brimming, then sets her jaw. “I guess I just want us to find a way to exist without destroying each other.”

A thick silence fills the space. Your chest feels ready to burst from conflicting emotions—gratitude, guilt, longing, terror. You look at Evie and see the ghost of the best friend you once knew, who might be willing to stand beside you again one day, even if it won’t ever be the same.

You open your mouth.

“I know it won’t be easy,” you say softly. “I don’t expect you to forgive everything in one night. But maybe… maybe we can start moving forward?”

Evie dashes a tear off her cheek and gives a tiny nod.

“Yeah,” she whispers. “Maybe.”

Heeseung watches her, watches you, then rises from the couch. He hesitates, like he’s not sure if he’s allowed to touch you. You stand up, heart pounding, and drift closer. Neither of you quite meets in the middle, leaving a careful gap where all your remorse hangs. But it’s less than before.

Evie clears her throat, hugging herself.

“I can’t stay down here with you two being… whatever you are. I need time, okay?”

You nod quickly.

“Of course.”

Heeseung nods as well, voice soft.

“Anything you need.”

She steps back, wiping her eyes, and there’s a hint of a weary smile ghosting across her face, like she’s relieved but not sure how to show it.

“You two can talk, or… or go, or do whatever. I just…” Her breath catches. “I’m gonna go upstairs. That’s all I can handle right now.”

You don’t stop her.

Then you turn to him, tears slipping down your cheeks, a tremulous hope fluttering in your chest. He lifts a hand—tentative, like he’s scared to break you—and cups your cheek, thumb brushing your damp skin.

He exhales shakily.

“I love you,” he murmurs, the words raw with emotion. “I’m sorry for everything.”

You nod, voice catching in your throat as you rest your hand over his.

“I’m sorry too,” you whisper. “But I love you, and maybe… that’s something we can start with.”

His eyes close in something like relief, and he presses a soft, uncertain kiss to your temple. It isn’t a triumphant moment, not the kind of romantic victory you might’ve once imagined. It’s tender, laced with guilt and fear. But it’s also real—genuine and fragile, the only piece of warmth you’ve had in a long time.

-

Things shift slowly, almost imperceptibly at first. You and Heeseung start keeping your distance whenever Evie’s around—no subtle hand-holding, no lingering touches, certainly no sneaking off to lock yourselves behind the nearest door. 

It’s not that you’re ashamed of each other; it’s that you can’t stand the thought of rubbing your relationship in her face. You both know you’re lucky she’s even letting you in the same room without storming out.

So you dial it back. You let your bodies stop running the show. 

It’s harder than you expect—he still sets your nerves on fire by simply looking at you—but you remind yourself that Evie’s feelings matter, that you owe her more than just half-hearted consideration. You give her space, which means giving yourselves space too. 

No sex. No heavy make-out sessions. No pressed-up-against-a-wall confessions. Just… time and gentle contact.

Heeseung seems as restless as you. 

Sometimes, when it’s late and you’re on a phone call—whispering so Evie won’t hear through the walls—he sounds downright desperate. 

You can hear his breath catch when you say you miss him, can practically feel the tension radiating through the receiver. 

Yet both of you agree: this is how it has to be for now. If you want Evie to believe that what you have is more than just an addiction to each other’s bodies, you need to show her you can exist outside a bed.

So you go on dates. Real dates. Movie theaters, yes, but also bookstore trips, late-night drives to nowhere, strolling through a local fair when it rolls into town. 

You hold hands only if you’re well away from Evie’s neighborhood—fearful that any small sign of affection might break the thin thread of tolerance she’s extended. 

The first time you walk along the riverside in the evening, sipping cheap coffee from a convenience store, it hits you that you’ve never really done this part before: the tentative, day-to-day romance of building a real relationship. It’s both comforting and nerve-wracking. 

You can feel the charge sparking under your skin every time he smiles at you, like you’re seconds away from losing your careful resolve. 

But you don’t. Neither of you wants to risk undoing the fragile progress with Evie.

And that progress is slow, but present. 

She doesn’t cringe as much when you and Heeseung enter a room together. 

She no longer flinches if you happen to stand on the same side of the kitchen.

 Maybe sometimes she rolls her eyes, but she doesn’t snap. You see the tension in her shoulders when you’re all in the same space, though—like she’s bracing for some new betrayal. 

You can’t blame her. You still offer to leave the moment you sense her discomfort rising. Surprisingly, she’s started telling you to stay.

But the real sign that things might be healing comes one weekend night when Evie texts you, out of the blue:

Girls’ night?

She doesn’t dress it up with a cute emoji or an explanation; it’s bare bones, almost clinical. And you stare at your phone with your heart hammering, wondering if this is a test, or maybe a begrudging olive branch. 

You answer with a shaky yes, and spend the next few hours trying not to read too much into it. You tell Heeseung you’ll be hanging out with Evie, and he just smiles—wide and genuine, telling you to have fun, to text him if you need anything.

Evie’s room hasn’t changed much since the night you snuck out of it to see Heeseung. The layout is the same, the posters the same, the bedspread the same. It all feels loaded with history. 

She sits cross-legged on her bed, handing you a soda—no alcohol tonight, no false bravado. You sense she wants you both stone-cold sober for whatever might be said. 

There’s an awkward pause, and then she gestures for you to sit, too.

For a while, conversation comes in bursts: updates about random classmates, stories from her day at work, small talk about the show you both used to binge-watch together. It’s stiff, but not hostile. 

She picks at her blanket, and you notice how she won’t hold your gaze for too long. Yet each minute that passes without snapping or bitterness feels like a victory.

Eventually, she slides a bag of nail polish across the bed toward you. “You, um… you still like doing this, right? It’s been a while,” she mumbles, glancing at your nails. 

It’s such a small gesture, but it makes your throat tighten. You nod, and she exhales something that might be relief. 

For a solid hour, the two of you paint and chatter, as if practicing how to be friends again. Her shoulders are less rigid. You’re careful not to misstep. Neither of you mentions Heeseung.

At least not directly. But you feel his presence in the air, the unspoken pivot point around which your every interaction revolves. It’s only when Evie finally fixes you with a long, assessing look, half-concern and half-uncertainty, that the moment arrives.

“Are you two, like… okay?” she asks. Her voice is laced with discomfort, but there’s no hatred in it. “You said no more sneaking around. But are you—happy?”

You swallow hard, carefully blowing on your newly painted nails. “We’re… doing our best,” you say. “Trying to be good for each other. Not just physically.”

She nods, lips twisting like she’s turning over your words in her mind. “I guess… that’s what I wanted to know,” she admits softly. “It still weirds me out sometimes, but I’d rather it matter to you than be some… fling.”

A wave of gratitude surges in your chest, making it hard to speak. You nod. “It matters,” you whisper. “I swear.”

She blinks a few times, then sets her nail polish aside. The tension in her shoulders relaxes just enough that her spine curves against the headboard, more comfortable than you’ve seen her in weeks. “Good,” she murmurs, tone stilted but earnest. “Don’t… don’t make me regret trying to rebuild this, okay?”

Your own shoulders slump in relief. “I won’t,” you promise. Your voice shakes with the weight of it. “And if I ever do, you can—and should—kick my ass.”

That draws a small, genuine laugh from her—a sound you haven’t heard in what feels like ages. She nods, letting the humor fill the space that was once suffocating with tension. “Deal,” she says.

You stay up later than expected—talking about nonsense, painting your nails in mismatched colors, occasionally lapsing into awkward silences. 

But each time, one of you breaks it before the air can go stale. By the time midnight rolls around, you’ve settled into a strange new normal: not quite what you were before the betrayal, but not strangers anymore. Something between you is mending, fragile but real.

When you leave, she walks you to the front door. It’s still weird, stepping out into the hallway where so much damage happened. 

But Evie’s behind you, not in front, and you can’t help feeling that the dynamic has changed in a way that actually might last. You glance back at her, and though she still looks tired, she doesn’t look hostile or betrayed. Maybe just… cautious. It’s enough.

“Night,” she says, one hand resting on the doorknob.

“Night,” you reply, voice quiet. “Thanks, again.”

She nods and closes the door gently behind you—no slamming, no huffing. Just a simple, private goodbye.

 As you slip into the night, you realize you’re smiling, mind already whirring with what you’ll tell Heeseung when you see him next. You catch yourself wondering if you’ll meet up for another date soon. Or if you’ll just call him on the way home, excitedly spilling the details of your slow but tangible progress with Evie.

-

The new place is barely furnished. A couch that’s still covered in plastic. A mattress on the floor. Takeout containers littering the kitchen counter. The floorboards creak with every step. The windows are wide open, and there are no curtains yet. It’s not home—not really—but it’s his. 

And most importantly, it’s finally, blessedly, fucking private.

When he opens the door and lets you in, he doesn’t kiss you right away. He just watches you step inside like you’re something he’s trying to memorize. His hands stay in the pocket of his hoodie. His jaw’s tight. His eyes flicker to the bag in your hand, then to your shoes, then up your legs so slowly it makes you feel exposed even though you’re still fully dressed.

You don’t say anything at first. You set the wine down on the counter. You take in the space—empty and echoing—but your skin’s already buzzing. You hear the door close behind you with a soft click, and something shifts.

He clears his throat.

“I haven’t kissed you yet,” he says, voice low. “Not really.”

You turn to look at him. “No.”

There’s a beat.

“Can I?”

You nod.

And that’s it. That’s all it takes.

His hands are on your face before you can blink, warm and rough and needing. The kiss starts soft, but only for a breath. Then it turns—hungry, desperate, filthy. Your back hits the counter with a thud, his tongue already in your mouth, his body pressing into yours like he’s trying to crawl inside you through your lips.

You moan into him, and he groans, deep in his throat, like the sound broke whatever shred of self-control he was hanging onto.

“You have no idea,” he pants, mouth hot against your jaw, “how long I’ve wanted to ruin you in peace.”

Your shirt’s pulled up before you can answer, his mouth already sucking marks down your neck. His hands are everywhere—gripping your tits through your bra, unbuttoning your jeans, fingers slipping into your waistband like he owns the place. Like he owns you.

You gasp as his hand slides between your legs, cupping you through your underwear, his breath catching when he feels the heat there.

“Already wet?” he mutters, voice ragged. “Fucking knew it.”

He yanks your jeans down to your ankles, then sinks to his knees on the kitchen tile without another word. His hands push your legs apart, pulling one up to rest over his shoulder. And when his mouth presses to the soaked fabric of your panties, you cry out—sharp, helpless, needy.

“You wore these knowing I’d take them off with my teeth, didn’t you?” he growls, dragging the fabric aside with his nose, his tongue already lapping through your folds like he’s been waiting for this for months.

You can barely breathe. One hand flies to the counter for balance, the other fists in his hair. He licks you with obscene, wet sounds, groaning into your pussy like the taste is sending him over the edge. You grind against his face shamelessly, whining when he flattens his tongue and drags it up through your slit, over and over again.

“Fuck, Heeseung—please—”

He pulls back just enough to spit directly on your clit. “What do you need, baby?” he pants, thumb spreading it around with tight, deliberate pressure. “You want me to make you cum with my mouth like a good little whore? Is that it?”

You nod frantically, hips rocking against his hand.

“I missed this pussy,” he mutters, diving back in. “Missed how fucking loud she is.”

And she is. Your pussy’s wet, sloppy, noisy, every flick of his tongue echoing off the bare walls. You cum hard, legs shaking around his shoulders, crying out his name as your vision blurs.

But he’s not done.

He stands, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, then grabs you by the waist and turns you around, bending you over the counter.

“No more pretending,” he growls in your ear. “No more quiet. You’re gonna scream for me this time.”

He pulls your panties down and spreads you open, groaning like a man unhinged.

“God, you’re dripping. You fucking missed this too, didn’t you?”

You try to answer, but he’s already stroking his cock against your folds, rubbing the head through the mess between your legs, smearing it everywhere.

“Say it,” he demands.

“Yes—yes, I missed it—fuck, Heeseung, I missed your cock—”

He sinks into you in one sharp, brutal thrust, and you wail.

No condom. No pause. Just the stretch of him filling you up in one smooth, devastating stroke.

“Oh my God,” he groans. “You’re fucking swallowing me.”

You’re moaning, writhing, drooling onto the counter. He doesn’t start slow. He doesn’t give you time. He fucks you—relentless, pounding, like he’s been waiting to do this since the moment you first touched him.

Your ass slaps against his thighs with every thrust. Your pussy is loud, the kind of wet, messy squelch that would embarrass you if you could think.

He slaps your ass hard, making you jolt forward. “Listen to her,” he growls. “She’s been crying for me.”

You don’t stop him. You beg for more.

He grabs your arms and pulls you back onto him, using your own body to fuck you harder.

“Keep taking it,” he snarls. “Be my good little cumrag, just like you used to be.”

You scream. You scream for him.

You cum again, sobbing into the crook of your arm, your entire body trembling.

He pulls out and flips you around, lifts you up onto the counter again, and kisses you like he’s devouring you from the inside out. Your legs are trembling so hard you can barely hold them up, but he spreads them open and spits straight onto your cunt, rubbing it in with two fingers, moaning when you jolt at the sensitivity.

“Wanna fuck you on the floor next,” he mutters against your lips. “Wanna fuck you on the mattress, on the couch, against every wall. Wanna ruin this apartment with the sound of your pussy screaming for me.”

You grab his face, breath ragged. “Then do it.”

He throws you over his shoulder and carries you to the mattress on the floor, where he fucks you in every position he’s ever imagined. He keeps you cockdrunk and leaking. When your voice gives out, he fucks you in silence. When your legs stop working, he props them up and keeps going. And when he finally cums—inside you, deep, claiming—he doesn’t pull out.

He just collapses on top of you, both of you drenched in sweat and slick and the aftermath of something feral.

You can’t move.

You don’t want to.

You just lie there, shaking, full, used, satisfied in a way that makes you dizzy.

Heeseung kisses your shoulder and whispers against your skin.

“I’m never being patient again.”

-

TL: @naurwayyyyy @ziiao @somuchdard @ijustwannareadstuff20 @ddolleri @beariegyu @zzhengyu @annybah @seonhoon @elairah @dreamy-carat @geniejunn @kristynaaah @zoemeltigloos @mellowgalaxystrawberry @inlovewithningning @vveebee @m3wkledreamy @lovelycassy @highway-143 @koizekomi @tiny-shiny @simbabyikeu @cristy-101 @bloomiize @dearestdreamies @enhaverse713586 @cybe4ss @starniras @wonuziex @sol3chu @simj4k3

[written-in-flowers]

A-Tease Lesson: OT8 X Fem!reader

Pairing: OT8 X fem!reader

Genre: smut, so much smut. /AU: sugar baby

Word Count: 16k

Summary: On the first day of shooting your variety show, "YNteez", you're forced to wear a school girl outfit and call all your boyfriends 'Oppa'. With the game's objective being who can make who cum first, you know you're doomed when Yunho walks in with a special bag of surprises.

Disclaimer: These works are completely fictitious and for entertainment purposes only. They are not meant to reflect or label the members of ATEEZ in any way. The events within never took place. Thank you.

Tags: polyamory, established relationship, cringey porn plot, teacher/student roleplay, school roleplay, sexual roleplay, anal sex, vaginal sex, sex toys, dildo, group sex, orgy, voyeurism, protected sex, oral sex (m. and f. giving/receiving) rough oral sex, touching, exhibitionism, corruption kink, virginity kink, spanking, titjobs, nipple play, double penetration, overstimulation, multiple partners, multiple orgasms, classroom sex, restraints, light bondage, light dom/sub themes, degradation, pet names, tickling, facials, bukkake, loads of aftercare, a break in the middle of it.

Previously on Idol Companion

***

Nerves buzzed around your insides as you stood outside the classroom door. You felt like the new kid at school all over again, except you weren't. You're a grown woman acting as a student for the benefit of your first variety show. 

It isn’t uncommon for Idol Companions to get their own variety shows or be guest stars in the ones their significant others have, and you’re not an exception. You told the members you’re fine being part of Wanteez, which is their show, but Atinys wanted you to have your own. You’re positive part of this reason is because companion shows tend to be 19+ with lots of suggestive and sometimes blatantly sexual themes. But, you did love their fans who’d accepted you so easily on debut week, that you couldn’t deny them when they tweeted about it in droves. 

You talked to your agent and the management team about the different episodes, which they told you would be filmed out of order. Since the school couldn’t be rented outside of the summer months, it'd have to be the first one you shot. YNteez would be premiering right after Wanteez’s current season ended, which gave plenty of time to film everything they needed.

The day’s episode was set at “Ateez High School”. The members pretended to be transfer students, all with their own roles and concepts. You're meant to be the school's first female student; the little underclassman who calls all the boys 'oppa' and acts cute. It made you sick. You cringed thinking about being the school girl archetype and having to call even the younger members 'oppa'. You know you'll never live it down. 

The episode’s main ‘mission’ is for one side to make the other orgasm in a certain amount of time. If the boys manage to make you cum before school ends, they win. If you somehow, miraculously bring them all to orgasm before then, you win. It was undoubtedly unfair; the whole point is for the members to win, since fans never like seeing their faves lose at anything. There is only one of you; there are eight of them. What’s worse is that they’re your boyfriends. You’ve been together for six years now. They know your body inside and out, and they clearly have the upperhand in this. You know they won’t hesitate to cheat too. 

All for a new ramen cooker. 

A part of you isn’t bothered by this fact. The last time you’d done something this strenuous was the gangbang orgy back in the shared dorm. You remembered the aches and sore muscles following the act, and alongside those memories came the members’ gentleness with you. None of them “came after” you for weeks afterwards, since they’d been warned that any sexual penetration might hurt you further. The most they’d asked for were kisses, cuddles and the occasional handjob or fleshlight toy. The thought that you’d be the center of another orgy excited you slightly. You might even lose on purpose so you can let them ruin you all over again. Memories of riding Seonghwa while Wooyoung used your mouth sent shivers down to your core. Of course, you’ll hold your orgasm as long as possible, but you knew you’d fail. You could never edge yourself. You always did it wrong or you stop past the point of no return anyways. Hongjoong tried teaching you once, but you’d cum despite his instructions. 

Your episode takes place in the supposed ‘Ateez High School’ where the boys filmed the previous day. You could see the boys through a crack in the window next to the door. They sat in basic school uniforms, listening to the game rules be explained by a producer. Your body turned numb when you realized how screwed you are in this game. You knew you’d have to use your own knowledge of the members’ bodies if you want to win. When you turned to look at them, your eyes met Hongjoong’s through the crack, and he smirked at you smugly. The other members will be easy marks, but Hongjoong…He will be their ace today. He knows your body more than any of them, and he is also an ‘edging master’. Years of practice and self-teaching made it easy for him to maintain total control of his own pleasure. He once told you he practices often, and you regretted not doing the same. Because, they all knew it: You can’t fight off an orgasm to save your life. It wasn’t something you ever needed to do until you met Ateez. 

You'd started to think them over when the director snapped you from your thoughts and motioned you to open the sliding door. The moment you did, the members all stared at you in stunned silence. You supposed the director told them to act 'stunned' by your appearance. You wore the white short sleeved button down and the pleated plaid skirt of the typical school uniform. Your pink backpack, and hair done up in buns on top of your head, you radiated the ‘cute, innocent’ schoolgirl concept well. You’d thought it was stupid up until you saw the members’ reactions. 

The members, sitting in various parts of the room, did nothing to hide their amazement at you in your costume. Jaws dropped. Eyes widened and glued themselves to you. However, now that you stood in the classroom, you noticed Yunho was missing. You swept over the other members, counting each head, and only found seven. He couldn’t be late since he’d arrived with you. You supposed there is some surprise element you weren’t told to add more shock value. With a sweet grin, you still walked into the room holding the straps of your bookbag and spoke in an innocent tone.

"Hello," you said, bowing to the group, "My name is YLN YN, and I'm a transfer student from Seoul."

"But you're a girl," Yeosang said, still looking you up and down. "This is a boy's school."

"I'm the school's first female student," you answered, twisting your hips cutely and letting them see your skirt sway with it. "I can't wait for us to all be friends."

"I can't wait for us to be friends either," sighed Seonghwa, his eyes focused on the bit of thigh your skirt showed. The rest of the members chuckled but you looked away shyly. 

"Oppa…" you internally cringed saying it, despite it being correct to use with Seonghwa who is a year older than you. You saw him bite his bottom lip as you said it. He never made you use formal names with him since you're his girlfriend. But, you knew he liked it sometimes, especially right now. "I don't know where to sit," you followed your next line. 

"Sit here!" Wooyoung patted the seat next to him excitedly.

"Sit with me!" San called from the back, waving his arm. 

"I have the best seat and I'm the class president," Yeosang said, raising his hand and smiling. 

"I'm the strongest student in the class," said Jongho, straightening up to flex muscles. "I can protect you from bullies."

"I'm an idol trainee," Hongjoong said, "That means I'm going to be famous one day and I can sing you songs whenever you want." 

"I'm a nice guy, sit with me!" Mingi called out, “We can be friends!”

Seonghwa only stared at you, biting the inside of his cheek. You knew exactly what ran through his mind and you won't lie, it excited you. Especially with how the stylist framed his strong, broad body in his uniform and he wore his black hair in the parted, undercut style you favored immensely. How could you resist that? He's also the sort of senior classman a girl like you would gravitate towards, being older and “wiser” than you. You ignored the other boys and said:

"I think I should sit with the oldest boy," you said, eyeing Seonghwa and walking over to him. "Is it okay if I sit with you, Seonghwa-oppa?"

"Of course," he said, watching you take the seat beside him. "Oppa will look after you," he grinned when you sat down, "Don't worry."

You giggled when he tapped your nose and butterflies hit your stomach. The rest of the class groaned disappointedly, and the teacher made his entrance. It was Yunho. He wore fake glasses, a white button down and black slacks. As much as you liked his appearance, it was the duffle bag he kept slung over your shoulder. Your stomach twisted into knots at the sight of it. This must be the ‘surprise addition’ the director mentioned. He’d assured you it wasn’t anything extreme, since the members chose the idea themselves, so you hadn’t been worried. Catching Yunho’s eye as he put the bag on the desk, he smirked. Your toy lover. Yunho’s personal toy collection expanded far beyond what the group shared. You knew he kept his stack of containers hidden in his closet, labeled according to type. He’d used most of it on you by this point, so you’re more than familiar with his collection. 

You’re sure some of his favorites are in there. 

“Good morning, class,” he began, despite the members all stifling their laughter. “My name is Mr. Jeong, and I’ll be your sexual arts teacher this afternoon.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Hongjoong called out, trying to hide his amused smile, “The ‘what’ arts?” 

“Sexual arts,” Yunho replied, equally holding back his own blushing laugh. You know once you’re naked and the toys are out, all shyness will disappear. “We here at Ateez High School believe it’s important our male students know how to satisfy their partners. I have brought with me some tools to get you started,” he patted the box, “But first, let’s go with the basics.”

“We’re really just diving in, huh?” chuckled Mingi. “No warm up or anything, sir?”

“He’s eager to get down to it,” Seonghwa joked. 

“This teacher doesn’t mess around,” said Jongho from beside you. 

“Hey, education is important, okay?” defended Yeosang. “Please, pay attention.”

“Look at Yeosang-hyung,” Wooyoung laughed behind him, poking his shoulder. “He’s blushing already.”

“I’m not blushing-” lied Yeosang, who covered his pink cheeks. 

“-Settle down, settle down, please,” Yunho called to the room. “Let’s get the lesson going.”

“Teacher is very serious about learning,” said Hongjoong. 

"I've always liked teachers who are serious about teaching their students new things,” you said loud enough for Yunho to hear. You straighten your posture to bring your breast into view when he looks over at you. "I'm always excited about new material."

“Oh,” he breathed, “You’ll learn plenty of new material today.”

You giggled and smiled, which only added to the concept you played. Yunho went to the bag and began pulling out the sex toys he’d brought. He set a small pink dildo and a thicker, longer blue one. Next, he withdrew an anal plug decorated with a pink heart-shaped gem, alongside a rod of beads ranging from large to small. Then, he placed down a handful of lavender colored bullets connected to controllers; a body wand vibrator, a suction vibrator, and a clear sleeve and a flesh-colored one. The members laughed as the amount of toys increased. 

“It’s a bottomless bag,” San laughed, seeing Yunho set down a small bag of cockrings.

“It’s like that bag Mary Poppins uses,” joked Hongjoong. Yunho pulled out a chain that had small nipple clamps on each end. “It’s connected to his little cabinet at home, and he’s just reaching in,” he acted out removing things from the bag. 

“I like to have the appropriate tools,” excused Yunho, forcing back his laugh as he withdrew handcuffs that matched the gag. 

“That’s a lot of tools, sir,” said Mingi, who let out another laugh when Yunho put down the flesh lights. 

“What are they for, Mr. Jeong?” you asked innocently, pretending to be oblivious to the implication. 

“They’re to have fun with,” answered Seonghwa, whose eyes fell to your lips. 

A distinct warmth on your knee made you gasp softly. You looked down to see his hand gently tracing circles on your knee. The delicate touch of his fingers on your bare skin prickled. 

“What kind of fun, Oppa?” 

“You’ll see,” he said in a low, sultry tone. “Be a good girl and pay attention to the teacher.”

“Okay.” 

He put his hand back on your knee, and this time slipped it further upwards, still drawing small patterns as he did so. You squirmed slightly at the hand massaging your inner thigh, nearly caving into the touch easily. Damn him. This show would’ve been fine earlier in your relationship, when they didn’t know you as well. But now after several years of dating, they know every single weak point. Yunho finally finished unpacking his bag, putting down a bottle of lubricant and a variety of condoms. He addressed the classroom. 

“The first part of our lesson today will be discussing female anatomy,” he said, putting on a professional front despite his pink cheeks. “Then, we will move onto a few toy demonstrations-” 

“-a few?-” interrupted Jongho, shocked by the amount on the table. 

“-And finally you’ll get to practice on your own.”

Seonghwa’s hand moved upwards on your thigh, and you bit your lower lip. You made a weak attempt to push him away, but it didn’t work. Yunho turned around and pulled down a diagram of a pair of breasts and a vagina. Your cheeks burned hot.

“This, students, is what people call a ‘pussy’,” Yunho said, gesturing to the photo. “It has a lot of names, but the general term is-”

“-Is that what they look like?” Mingi asked with wide eyes, but this was ruined when he laughed. 

“Eh, I’ve seen nicer ones,” smirked Hongjoong, who looked over at you then his brow furrowed at your expression. With a quick glance down, he held back a laugh and looked at Yunho. 

“All pussies are pretty,” said Yeosang with a small smile. “Regardless of what they look like.” 

“What are the things on the top, sir?” asked Wooyoung, who then bit his lip to not laugh. 

“These are called ‘breasts’,” Yunho answered. 

Yunho started explaining the various pleasure points on the female body. You tried paying attention, but Seonghwa’s hand made that difficult. 

“Oppa,” you whispered, putting your hand on his but not pushing it away. 

“I’m sorry. I can’t help it,” he whispered to you, “You look so cute in that uniform.” His hand went far enough that it lifted your skirt over your thighs. “We should ask the stylist if we can take it home. I’ve always wanted to dress you up before I fuck you.” 

“Hwa,” you whimpered, putting your thighs together to trap his hand. Your squished thighs did nothing to stop your pussy from throbbing slightly. “We’re supposed to be paying attention. I don’t want to get a bad grade.”

“I think you’ll be fine, YN-ssi,” he replied in your ear. “The teacher likes you a lot.” 

Seonghwa grasped your thigh, fingers pressing into the innermost part close to your sex, and you kept yourself staring straight ahead. You tried keeping his hand from going closer, because you knew you’re a goner if he touched your center. But, Seonghwa still managed to press three fingers right against the thin panties.

“-This is the clitoris,” you heard Yunho say. “It’s a small-”

The very tip of Seonghwa’s finger circled around your clit lightly, and the sensations flared up in your body. You shifted from him, but not by much since you’re surrounded by people. You caught the eye of Jongho, who sat at the table on your right, and he smirked knowingly. 

“Excuse me, sir,” Jongho raised his hand. 

“Yes, Jongho-ssi?”

“I think Seonghwa-hyung and YN-ssi are a few steps ahead of us.” 

“Traitor,” Seonghwa hissed at him, removing his hand from your sex. 

“Seonghwa-ssi,” Yunho called to him, still playing his ‘teacher’ role despite the age differences, “Where are your hands?”

“Here,” Seonghwa innocently raised them above the desk, “Jongho’s lying.”

“Am not!”

“YN-ssi?”

“Yes?” 

“Why don’t you come up here and help me with the next part of our lesson? I think the others will understand better with a demonstration,” he told you. 

“Good idea, sir,” Wooyoung gave him an approving thumbs up. 

“We’re visual learners,” San nodded. 

These comments made the others laugh, but you carefully stood up and tried avoiding the warmth between your thighs. Yunho leaned on the edge of the desk, and guided you to his lap. You heard the deep inhale of breath he took when your body brushed up against his. His dark eyes drank you in for a moment before he looked back to the others. 

“The first thing we do when we’re with a partner,” he said, leaning closer and lifting your chin to look at him, “Is kiss them.”

Yunho’s lips tasted like fresh spearmint as they pressed to yours. Holding your chin, he kissed you in soft pecks at first before locking your lips together. His tongue rolled against yours easily, and you couldn’t help letting out a soft moan when they met. You gripped his arm to keep yourself steady, because you’re sure to get weak knees soon, and gently grinded into his lap. 

“See,” Yunho broke an inch from your lips, “Just simple touches and kisses are a good start.” His hand left your chin as he recaptured your lips, and went to your thigh, where he lightly rubbed the side up and down. “Sofy, nice touches,” he said between kisses, “Gentle and light…enough for them to feel it.” He gripped at your hamstring, letting his fingers graze your ass as he did it, “How is that, YN-ssi? Good?”

“Yes, Mr. Jeong,” you nodded, your pussy starting to throb again. “Is it only kisses on the mouth, though? Can you kiss your partner in other places?”

“Of course,” he briefly kissed you again. “You can kiss here,” he pecked your cheek, “Here,” he moved to your jawline, “And right here too.” 

Your eyes fell shut when he brushed his lips on your neck. His warm breath tickled the flesh there when he started leaving soft kisses on the base. You bit your lip when he started tenderly sucking your neck, even giving small bites before licking over them. When you whimpered, he stopped. 

“I’m sorry, YN-ssi,” he said, “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No,” you shook your head. “I liked it.”

“You liked it?” he asked for confirmation. 

“Yes,” you nodded. 

“Then let’s do the other side, hm?” 

You leaned your head back as he continued kissing your neck. His bulge poked you every time you moved against his lap, and his faint groans tickled you. As much as you wanted to reach down to grab him, you maintained your ‘innocent’ concept. 

“Once,” Yunho forced himself to pull away from you, “Your partner is ready, you can start removing their clothes.”

He stood you between his legs, your back to his chest, and wrapped his arms around you. When he moved to untuck your shirt from your skirt, you grabbed both his wrists. 

“Remove my clothes?” you pouted, wriggling against his crotch still. “Is that part of the lesson?”

“It is,” he replied, putting both your arms behind your back. “You don’t have anything to be shy about,” he assured you, pulling your top from your skirt and starting to unbutton it, “I’m only showing your classmates what it looks like in real life.”

“And who’s a better choice than our cute little dongsaeng, YN?” cooed Seonghwa, who leaned forward on his desk to look at you closely. 

“We all want to do well on our test,” said Yeosang, who fixed his eyes on your breasts, which became more and more visible as Yunho finished unbuttoning you. “You’re pretty whether you’re naked or not.”

“But most certainly when you’re naked,” added Wooyoung, though got a glance from Hongjoong. 

The group awed collectively once Yunho opened your shirt to reveal your bra. You’d decided to go for the virginal vibe, and chose a white bra with lace patterns along the cleavage hem. Your arousal sparked up once you became exposed to them. Yunho cupped both your breasts and sighed deeply. He didn’t say anything as his fingers danced along the curves and seams of your bra before grasping your tits again. He squished them together and rubbed his thumbs over your nipples, which hardered under the fabric. 

“Simple touches,” he repeated, starting to kiss your neck again. “Pinching,” he pinched both your nipples, “And rubbing,” he grazed his tumbs once more, “Is the basics for stimulation. Isn’t that right, YN-ssi?”

“Yes,” you nodded. His touches sent shivers down to your core, where you felt yourself dampening each time. “Sir,” you called meekly, “Is it supposed to throb?”

This drew everyone's attention. “What’s throbbing?” he asked, though he already knew, as he continued rolling your nipples between his fingers. “Your nipples?”

You shook your head, “Down there. That part that’s in the pictures.”

“Yes, sweetie,” he answered, groaning softly at your response. “It’s supposed to. Is it doing that now?” When you nodded, he said, “We’ll get to that part of the lesson in a moment. For now, why don’t we let one of your classmates touch them so they can see how they feel?” His jaw dropped when he tugged down your bra to reveal your bare breasts, a hand taking your nipple between two fingers. “So soft,” he breathed in your ear, “And so nice. They’re the prettiest I’ve ever seen.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” he said, turning your head to kiss you deeply. “And they'll look even prettier by the end of class. Mingi-ssi,” he called over Mingi, “Come and show the class what you learned from the demonstration.” 

Mingi, tall and broad, cropped his hair short and dyed it blond for their comeback. It suited him, and you hated that it suited him because that only amplifies your arousal. Mingi stood in front of you, eyes scanning over your face, before he brought you in for a tender kiss. Full lips easily parted yours to let his tongue in, and large hands grasped your breasts. Mingi’s love for your chest would soon become public knowledge, since he did nothing to hide his admiration of them. 

“I love your tits, you know that?” he whispered to you, even though you’re sure the microphones around the room will pick it up. He gave them a gentle squeeze that added kindling to the fire, “I can never get enough of them.” Without instruction, he bent down to swipe his tongue over your nipple, and smiled when you whimpered. “And they’re so sensitive,” he said, taking it in his mouth to suckle on. 

“Remember the last time you were in between us?” Yunho asked you, breaking his character in this concealed moment. “When you went with us to K-Con and you shared a hotel room with Mingi and I?”

“And we spent so much time teasing each other with just our mouths?” Mingi added, sucking on your other breast now. 

“Yes,” you huffed. “Then we fucked once we couldn’t take it anymore.”

The memory came to you vividly. You’d decided to share a room with Yunho and Mingi, which meant gaming and cuddling together. The ‘cuddling’ then led to kissing, and the kissing led to undressing, and that led to being pressed between your tall boys. 

“That’s what we’re gonna do today,” Mingi said, pecking your lips and squeezing your breasts. “We’re going to tease you with Yunho’s toys until we can’t hold back anymore. Would you like that?”

“I would,” you whimper, pulling him up by the jaw to kiss him again. “Oh, fuck yes, I’d love that.”

They both chuckled and continued fondling and taking turns kissing you until someone spoke. 

“Professor,” Yeosang raised his hand, and you three looked at him, “May I try?”

“Absolutely,” Yunho insisted. 

Yeosang took Mingi’s place, and Mingi sat down nearby. The members grew silent as Yeosang grabbed your tits next. He was meant to be the virginal class president, and he kept to this as he kissed you. Every kiss with Yeosang reminds you of the first: a shy kiss stolen in the darkness of a movie theater. It started with timid kisses that quickly turned heated and passionate. He looked down to see your breast in his hand, and he laughed bashfully. 

“What is it?” you asked, pushing hair from his face. “You don’t like them, Oppa?”

“I do,” he assured you with a kiss, “They’re so soft and squishy.”

“Pfft, ‘squishy’,” you heard Wooyoung say, but didn’t laugh. 

Yunho held back a laugh too, saying instead, “Yes, Yeosang-ssi, they’re supposed to be like that.”

“Will you kiss them too like Mingi-oppa did?” you asked, batting your lashes at him. 

“Can I?”

You nodded, and let out a gentle sigh as he kissed the tops of them first. Yeosang kissed down to one nipple and ran the tip of his tongue around each one. “Are there toys, Professor,” he began, “That I could use on these?”

“There are loads,” Yunho answered. He picked up one of the bullet toys on the table and used the controller to turn it on. The light buzzing made you squirm with delight when he put it right to your nipple, “You see, class, this toy is called a ‘bullet’. Mostly called that for its size and shape, it’s the perfect toy for stimulating certain parts of your partner. Like their nipples,” he carefully traced the toy around one. “Try it, Yeosang.”

“Okay.” 

Yeosang kissed you once more before taking up the opposite breast to tease. When you moaned and grinded into Yunho again, he smiled, “Am I doing it right? I’m not hurting you, am I?”

“No, no,” you shook your head. You pushed your chest closer to him, “It feels really good.” 

“Professor, Professor, Professor, may I give it a try?” asked Wooyoung excitedly, waving his hand in the air. 

Yunho beckoned him forward, and handed him his own bullet. Yeosang stepped to the side, but continued teasing your nipple with the toy. Wooyoung pecked your lips a few times, turning on the bullet and running it down to your other nipple. All the stimulation running through you had your pussy pulsating and pushing back into Yunho. You thought you might climax right then if they didn’t stop. 

“Is this okay?” Wooyoung asked, pushing the toy directly against your nipple so the vibrations went deeper. 

“Yes!”

“Mr. Jeong,” Wooyoung said, “Can we put these in other places too?”

Judging by the smirk he gave your pleading face, Wooyoung had been told to take it a step further. 

“You can,” Yunho answered. “I’ll show you.”

Yunho ran his hands from your stomach to your thighs, where he hooked his hands around the hem of your skirt. Your arms squished between his chest and your back, you couldn’t do anything as he lifted your skirt to reveal your panties. Made of white cotton, a wet spot could be seen clearly against the light fabric, which caused the members to groan in unison. Finally getting a view of the room now, you saw they’d all unbuckled their pants and now stroked themselves under their desks. Your horny boys. Not that you complained. You’d agreed to this entire idea because at the end of the day, you’re as horny as they are. Yunho let you slide off his lap, and he guided you to sit on the desk. 

“Spread out your legs for me,” Yunho instructed, which you obeyed, “And lean back on this.” 

He produced a cushion a staff member must’ve hidden under the desk, and put it down for you to proper yourself on comfortably. Dark blue and wide, you recognized it as the cushion you knelt during the last orgy. 

“Someone’s gotten very wet,” Wooyoung sneered, running the tip of his finger over the wet spot. “I heard they get like this when a woman’s turned on. Does that mean YN-ssi is turned on, sir?”

“She is,” Yunho smiled, standing behind you and watching Yeosang and Wooyoung continue teasing your nipples. “You can put your toys on her pussy too,” he told them, “So, it’ll get even wetter.” 

Wooyoung stood aside so the rest of the members could see his toy dance down your body to your sex. You instinctively grabbed onto Yunho’s arms, and your thighs tensed as the newest sensation. Wooyoung languidly dragged the bullet up and down your pussy; he sometimes pressed it right between the open lips to where your clit was, but he mainly stuck to his tracing. The vibrations hit right on the bundle between them, and sent waves through your walls. You did your best to stay still as Yunho instructed, but it became more difficult as it went on. You’re glad the school building remained empty, because you’re certain you could be heard outside the classroom. Your boyfriends still sat at their desks, doing nothing to hide the fact that they’re masturbating, and this alone pushed you closer to the edge. Soon, Yeosang joined Wooyoung in the torture, and you cried out. 

“Mr. Jeong, Mr. Jeong,” you whimpered, “That throbbing is…is…back.”

“Because you’re about to orgasm,” he said in your ear. “That’s the best part of the whole thing.” He kissed just beneath your ear, and continued, “I like to watch sweet, pretty girls like you cum all over themselves from my toys. But, it’s too early in the lesson for orgasms.” 

Wooyoung and Yeosang must’ve heard him, and immediately turned off their bullets. Your whimper of disappointment amused them, but Yunho soothed you with a soft kiss to your temple. 

“Shouldn’t we take these off, sir?” Wooyoung asked, playing with your pantyline. "I think YN-ssi might be uncomfortable." 

“Yes, we should,” he said. “Go ahead.”

The two members each took a side and peeled off your underwear. Your sex exposed to the room, you heard the members whine, groan and moan at the sight of you. Wooyoung licked his lips as he eyed your wet cunt, and you knew he wanted to put his mouth on it. 

“Is that what they look like wet?” asked Mingi, who’d leaned to the side to catch a glimpse of you. 

"It is," Yunho answered, a bit breathless from the sight. 

"Can they get wetter?" Wooyoung asked, gingerly running his thumb over your pussy. "It looks so pretty all wet like this."

"I think they can get wetter," said Yeosang, who joined in the rubbing so both thumbs spread your juices around. "Mr. Jeong, can we get her wet?"

"We will," he replied, bending down to softly suck and lick your nipple, "But we have more things to cover. Take your seats." 

He put his hand between your legs and gently stroked your folds as he sucked your nipples. You were certain he meant to keep you hanging in the limbo between frustration and ecstasy forever. His slender digits traced the very edges of the folds, dancing over them and your clit several times. 

"Mr. Jeong," you whimpered, "Shouldn't we keep on with the lesson?"

"In a minute, darling," he said, giving you a soft kiss before bending over to the other side. "I can't keep my hands or my mouth off you for too long. I love the sweet little sounds you make when I touch and kiss you."

"But, if we go further in the lesson," you said, "Maybe you can do more than kissing and touching."

He growled against your neck when you said this, kissing your shoulder as he replied, "Good thinking." He nuzzled your nose with his, "Such a smart girl. You're going to do so well." He kissed you one more time, then returned to the others, "Since we’ve learned about bullet toys, let’s learn about this.” 

He picked up the smaller dildo from the table and put your left leg over his lap. He explained what a dildo was and its primary functions, but he didn’t linger on pointless descriptions long. He slid the toy along your clit, giving soft taps that made you whimper, before sliding the head inside you. It didn’t stretch enough to hurt, but you still felt it pushing and pulling your walls. 

“You always start slowly,” Yunho explained, “And never go too deep. This toy isn’t very long, so it won’t hurt our YN-ssi too much, but particularly long ones should only go halfway.”

“Sucks for you, Seonghwa-hyung,” Hongjoong snorted, batting Seonghwa’s arm. 

“Shut up,” Seonghwa blushed, hitting him back. “It’s not that big.”

“No, no, hyung,” Jongho disagreed, “It is. It really is.”

“I’m still traumatized from when I first saw it,” said San. 

“It’s not that big!” repeated Seonghwa, though the tinge on his cheeks gave it away. 

“Seonghwa-ssi,” called “Mr. Jeong”, “Why don’t you help me in the demonstration next?”

“Yes, sir.”

Seonghwa tucked himself back into his pants, and you wished he hadn’t. He truly isn’t monstrously or concerningly large. He simply had an inch or two over the other members, but his thickness is what you enjoyed the most. You could enjoy being fucked by him for ages, and never be disappointed. Seonghwa brought your right leg over his lap and he hovered over your pussy. Yunho offered him the pink dildo, and he took over, keeping the same, careful pace. The only difference was while Yunho mainly penetrated you, Seonghwa bent down to swat his tongue over your clitoris. Wrapping one arm underneath you, he started slowly whirling it around while sliding the toy in and out. 

“Hey, is he allowed to do that?” asked Wooyoung, pointing at Seonghwa. 

“No, I don’t think so?” Yunho replied, looking around at the hidden cameras as if a staff member would somehow answer. 

“I can't help it,” Seonghwa said, lifting his head and sliding the toy deep inside you. “I love eating her out. She tastes so damn good,” he mewled as he started hungrily licking and sucking your clit. This put you into a new wave of pleasure that had you pushing into the toy for more. 

“Because I held back,” Wooyoung exclaimed. His outburst caused the other members to start laughing again. “I love eating her pussy more than any of you, and I stopped myself because of the skit. That’s not fair-”

“-Wooyoung-ah-”

“-It’s not fair, Professor!” 

The members kept laughing, and you chuckled too from Wooyoung’s outrage. Yet, Seonghwa's tongue distracted you right away. 

"Oppa," you called out to him, hand slipping into his dark hair, "Mr. Jeong didn't say anything about kissing me there."

"Well, I want to," he said, sliding the toy fully inside and flicking your clit at the same time. "You like it, don't you?" He asked, "Isn't Oppa making you feel good?"

"Ye-yes…" you breathed, grinding into his face, "Yes, yes, Hwa-oppa…don't stop, please. It feels so good. Your mouth feels so-"

At this, Seonghwa quickly swirled his tongue around your clit while pushing and pulling on the toy faster. Yunho and the others watched in amazement as Seonghwa pleasured you. You felt yourself getting dizzy from the pleasure churning inside you. You weren't sure how much longer you could last with the sensation pouring over you. Your sex became more and more sensitive to his tongue and the dildo that you knew you'd crack eventually.

"I want to use that one, sir," Seonghwa stopped completely and nodded to the longer dildo near Yunho. "I think YN-ssi should be stretched out more before we go further, right?"

"That's right," Yunho smirked at him. He took hold of the pink dildo inside you, "Let's pull this one out and let YN-ssi clean it with her mouth, hm?"

The room watched as you sat up as much as possible and let Yunho slide the toy into your mouth. The hard silicone thinly tasted of your own fluids, a thing you didn't mind at all. You kept eye contact with Yunho while he slid the toy in and out of your mouth; you stuck out your tongue to run it over the sides whenever beckoned to do so, entrancing both Yunho and Seonghwa. When you sucked the top and let it out with a small pop, he spoke.

"Look at the others while you do that," he said, still watching you. 

You shifted your eyes over to the others, and saw their eyes still trained on you. You batted your lashes innocently and asked, "Am I doing this right?" 

"Yes…"

"Oh yes…"

"So right…"

"Keep going. You're doing so well."

"Get this one wet with your mouth too," Seonghwa lifted the blue dildo as Yunho removed the pink one. "We need to get it slippery before we put it in your pussy again. That way, it doesn't hurt so much."

"Okay, Oppa."

You started licking the blue dildo, which really was considerably thicker and longer. Yunho rarely used this toy on you since he worried it might hurt, but you assured him it never did. You shifted your eyes back to the members, licking the underside of the toy before putting the tip in your mouth. To add to the effect, you started playing with your nipples yourself, groping your breasts and teasing yourself while sucking the toy. Yunho held out the pink dildo to your mouth, and you switched over to that one next. 

"Try to take as much as you can," said Hongjoong, breathing heavily as he stroked himself in his pants. "I want to see how far you can take it."

"I bet she can take it deep in her throat, if she tried," said San, also rubbing himself in his pants. 

"Try it, YN-ssi," Jongho insisted, his cock fully out and throbbing in his hand. "It's okay if you can't, but we want to see you try."

You stayed seated as Yunho slid the toy over your tongue to the back of your throat. Sucking firmly, you bobbed your head forward and backward on the dildo while looking at the rest of the class. Having their eyes on you brought more warmth to your center. Their eyes followed every motion you made as if afraid that they'll miss something. You let the tip rest in the back of your throat a moment, even if it ached slightly, then pulled back for air. Spit dripped from your mouth, though Seonghwa wiped this with his thumb to taste. He gave you a deep kiss before putting his own toy in your mouth. He went a bit faster than Yunho, prodding your throat at a regular pace and even sinking it far enough to gag you. His soft moans of amazement and cooing only stirred the pot inside you more. You wanted to taste them both. 

"Why don't you lay back down for me?" Yunho asked, already slowly laying you on the desk, "And we can keep going." 

"Can I play with yours, Mr. Jeong?" You asked, groping the obvious bulge in his trousers. 

"Yes, you can," he said. "You've been doing so well, you deserve a treat."

Your head nearly at the edge of the table, you tilted your head upwards as he unbuckled himself and withdrew his cock. You opened your mouth to taste salty droplets on your tongue, savoring the bittersweetness when he started gradually sliding in and out. Yunho’s deep groans matched the faint ones going about the room; his dark eyes watched his cock push into your throat each time, his balls centimeters from your face as he did it. The odd angle took getting used to, but once Yunho picked up the rhythm, the needy moans came out in slews. You felt his tip poking into your throat this time, and the air restriction excited you. You gasped for air each time he withdrew to slap the head in your cheeks and chin. Your hips grinded into the air for some sort of friction, desperate for more stimulation before Seonghwa pressed the blue dildo to the entrance. Unable to stop themselves anymore, the other members came to the desk and watched close up. You felt them surround the desk, which you're sure doesn't help with the camera angles. 

A warm tongue on your clit had you moaning around Yunho’s length. You knew who it was by the satisfied muffled moans. Wooyoung kept a delicate pace in time with Seonghwa’s toy; you knew you'd cum soon if they kept going. 

"Sir," Mingi came up to him, watching him go deep in your mouth, "Can I try it too?"

"Sure," said Yunho, "But first, boys, let's put these on."

He grabbed the bag of black silicone cock rings, and handed them out. When he gave one to Hongjoong, he lifted his hand to decline. He never needed a cock ring, since he held himself back well enough. But, Yumho insisted. 

"This is going to be a long lesson, Hongjoong," he put it in his hand, "Put it on."

"I don't need it."

"Put it on before I give you detention." Yunho laughed, but slightly backed away at Hongjoong’s raised eyebrows. 

"Put it on, Hongjoong-oppa," you frowned, reaching for both Yunho’s and Mingi’s cocks. "I want you to last for a really long time."

"Alright," he said gently, bending to kiss your lips, "Anything for my cute dongsaeng." 

You giggled, knowing how much he liked that, and then guided Mingi back into your mouth once he put on the ring. Seonghwa’s toy went faster and slightly deeper, and you shuddered at the response the others gave. It left you feeling frozen in place as it entered you over and over again. The orgasmic ball building in your stomach rolled to that spot between your thighs each time the toy touched your g-spot. You didn't care if you came now. You needed to. The pressure inside you became too much to handle; with Mingi filling your mouth and nearly your throat, and both Jongho and Hongjoong pinching your nipples while Wooyoung and San took turns flicking your clit, you came in a burst of fire. It tensed your muscles and had you tearing up and muffled by Mingi. 

"Oooh, that's it," Yunho groaned, sliding in to take Mingi’s place, "That's a real orgasm there."

They eased up on their teasing once they felt you coming down from your high. You knew there was more. So much more. 

"Roll onto your stomach, sweetheart," Yunho instructed, helping you roll over and get as comfortable as possible on the wooden desk. 

Your lower half hanging off the edge, the position left you exposed to the room. Seonghwa lifting your skirt over your ass turned your cheeks hot, and you twitched slightly at a pair of hands grasping your buttocks. The usual arousal you'd feel didn't hit you right away, considering you still rode the tails of your orgasm, but you knew it'd come back soon. San, you're sure it's him, gave your ass a light spank and a squeeze that made you squeak. The other members soothed your quaking muscles with gentle caresses and quiet praises, but you knew they had plenty planned for you still. 

"If you ever want us to stop," Hongjoong crouched in front of you, wiping your cheeks and chin, "Or want a break, you let us know, okay?"

You only nodded, your throat pinching from before. They always remind you of your safeword, and that you can take breaks. He kissed your lips softly, and smiled at you. 

"You're so pretty," he said, pecking your forehead. "I wish I could keep you like this forever."

"You know you can have me this way whenever you want," you told him, "If I get to have you the way I want."

He grinned, "And how would you like me?"

You reached down for the gray fleshlight on the corner of the desk, and said, "Desperate for me."

"Fuck…"

He stood up right away, and held his dick out to you. Wetting it with your mouth for a minute or so, you then slowly slid the toy onto his length. His shirt lifted a few inches from his waist, you saw his stomach muscles begin contracting each time you passed over the head of his cock. Knowing how much he likes it, you bent forward further to lick the sack hanging underneath. 

"She looks so hot when she does that," huffed Mingi, who looked on while stroking himself. "I love watching her when she licks my balls like that."

"Me too," breathed Hongjoong, who did his best to not thrust forward towards you. He whined when you tenderly sucked one of them, shifting in place and whining more. "It feels so fucking good."

"It's even better when one of us is eating her out too."

You quivered in a whimper when something wet touched your clit again. Hearing the soft, high moans, you knew it to be Wooyoung once again. The tip of his tongue gingerly rolled the tender bud and slipped to your fluttering hole, then going back down to your clit again. 

"You really can't help yourself, can you?" Laughed Yunho. 

"I told you I liked eating her out,” said Wooyoung, darting his tongue back inside you. “I could do this all day.” 

You made sure Hongjoong felt the vibrations of your moans on the thin skin, a certain weak point of his. Gradually sliding the toy up and down, you realized his precum helped move it along easily, occasionally making a squelch sound each time. You removed the toy to taste his precum yourself, and made him wetter in the process. You loved the way his moans turned into desperate whimpers, and how he couldn't help holding onto some part of you whether it be your hair, shoulder, neck or somewhere close. You loved being the one who made him this way; the strong captain of the team who has to hold everything together all the time. With your mouth and fleshlight working him so easily, you loved hearing him unravel before you. You squealed along with the obscene slurping Wooyoung made when he sucked the juices from you. 

"I love eating her out after she's cummed," groaned Wooyoung, "When she's all messy and slippery and needs me to clean her up."

"And this ass is just as good too," added San, pulling your cheeks apart to see both holes clearly. "Mr. Jeong, is this a toy we can use back here?"

"Oh, yes you can," Yunho nodded, smiling. "It's an anal plug, and it's exactly for that, but I think YN-ssi will like the beads better. They start off small and get bigger in size. Begin with something small, San-ah. We don’t want to hurt YN-ssi.” 

“Not right away,” San added, giving your ass a smack. 

In a minute or so, a cold substance slipped between your ass cheeks which was then spread with something round. You melted in place from all the stimulation, knowing exactly what your boyfriends had in mind now. Your mind suddenly became fixated on the toy circling the rim of your hole and delicately pushing into it every so often. It tickled something inside you that brought back your arousal; it mingled with Wooyoung’s tongue lapping at your pussy, and made you moan around Hongjoong’s tip whenever it stuck out the other side of the sleeve. 

San started with the first bead, which hardly felt like anything, and then slowly pushed further into your ass. You used both hands to work Hongjoong as you let out soft, whimpering moans. The real hit of pleasure came when he reached the last ball, the largest at about an inch, and fully set itself inside you. You let go of Hongjoong and braced yourself on the desk, moving your hips for any kind of friction elsewhere, which amused the members. 

“That feels good, doesn’t it?” San asked slyly. 

“Ye-yes,” you nodded. 

“I know something that’s going to make you feel even better,” said Yunho. "You all return to your seats and Seonghwa can go first."

"Gladly, Professor."

Seonghwa pulled you over to the desk behind you, grabbing a seat and bringing you into his lap. You felt his stiff cock press against the toy in your ass, and his balls graze your sex. The mere bit of friction had you whining pathetically. Rolling your hips against it, Seonghwa gave a low groan that made you throb. 

“Seonghwa…” you whimpered, looking over your shoulder at him, “Seonghwa, I want your cock.”

“Say it the right way, YN-ssi.”

“Seonghwa-oppa,” you whined, putting both his hands on your breasts, “May I please have your cock? Please? I want to see if it fits.” 

"Then let’s see if it fits," he said in your ear, and you didn't hesitate. 

He swiftly entered you with half his length, which still made you gasp loudly. The members around you sighed seeing you being filled by Seonghwa's cock. He kept your skirt over your waist so anyone nearby could see your most intimate area. It didn't help that he occasionally tugged and pushed on your beads, causing another route of pleasure. Yeosang and Hongjoong on your left were the ones with the most perfect view. You locked eyes with Yeosang, and arched your back to show him his favorite part of you. Your tits. 

Seonghwa hissed in a low tone when your sex clamped down around him, and gradually started milking him as you bounced. Your tits doing the same, Yeosang exhaled deeply when he saw them out in the open. It was Seonghwa's hands that grasped them, and started rolling your nipples between his fingers. You need to keep a tight hold on your orgasm. You started grinding yourself on his lap, feeling him deep inside you. Yeosang kept his hand in his pants, stroking his whole length gradually. However, it was not Seonghwa who put his hand on you next. 

Jongho took your empty seat to lightly brush a bullet toy over your clit again. The light tickling sensation had you nearly crying from the pleasure. 

"What a naughty girl you are,” Jongho cooed, putting the toy right to your entrance each time Seonghwa stretched you. “I never thought a sweet girl would be such a slut.” 

“A very big slut,” Seonghwa groaned. He left your breasts alone, and grabbed your arms. Pulling them back, he kept you restrained as he bounced you on his cock. The new angle coupled with the two toys brought you closer to the edge. “The class slut,” he said. “Is that what you are, YN-ssi? Are you our slut now?”

“Yes,” you cried out, “Yes, yes, yes.”

“Then say it,” he growled. “Say it, slut.”

“I’m the…the…” 

“Go on, say it,” encouraged Jongho. “Say it.”

“I’m…” you breathed, “I’m the class…the class slut!” 

They all laughed at this, and you nearly came from it. You leaned forward on the desk and moved quicker. It made your thighs and legs burn slightly, and your elbows pressed into the hard desk, but the pleasure deeply outweighed the pain. Seonghwa wasn’t long enough to do any sort of damage, but you knew you’d be feeling him well after this. You gritted your teeth the moment his tip started hitting your g-spot, the bundle of pressure causing your eyes to roll back. But, then you had to stop yourself. You stayed frozen in place, putting your head down and keeping still. This gave Jongho and Seonghwa an opportunity that they took right away.

You squealed into the crook of your arm when both men began working you rapidly, your clit and g-spot flaring in unison. You’d felt it tickling inside you, inching closer and closer. Your knuckles stretched over the bones thinly into fists, and you couldn’t hold back anymore. The vibrations. Seonghwa’s thickness and length. The members sitting around, jerking their cocks and panting as they watched you. You came hard around Seonghwa, your walls clamping down on him. Seonghwa’s groans turned into grunting as he charged up inside you. He’s close. You could tell by his speed and sounds. His thighs tensed underneath you, and his thrusts became sloppier and sporadic. This alone kept you shuddering and shaking on top of him, your orgasm hitting you hard in the chest and abdomen as Seonghwa pumped it out of you. When you finished, Seonghwa’s own orgasm approached. 

“Are you…you going to cum, Oppa?” you asked, not stopping your pace at all. 

“Ye-y-yes-s!” he gritted through his teeth. 

He pulled out right as he came, yanking off his condom and spraying warm streams on your ass and lower back. You both took deep, slow breaths as your bodies descended and relaxed from the tension. But, you knew you were far from done. Your legs still like jelly, you locked eyes with Yeosang as you removed your shirt completely, tossing it onto Jongho and leaving the table. The members watched you walk around the desk to Yeosang, who wouldn’t meet your eyes as you took off your bra next. 

“Yeosangie-oppa,” you knelt down beside him, hands touching his knees so he faced you, “Are you understanding anything about the lesson? I’m feeling a bit lost,” you said, pouting at him as you ran your fingertips up and down his thighs. The dark haired man stared down at your breasts the entire time, occasionally glancing up to your face. You knew keeping to the roleplay character would excite him the most. “Mr. Jeong said we can make each other feel good without the toys too, and the others know how to do it, but I don’t know if I’m doing it right.” 

“Um, uh, yes…” he muttered, no longer touching himself but instead watching you. “You’re doing really well. So well…” 

“I am?” 

“But, I think there’s something that you,” he breathed deeply, “That you could do for me.”

“Like what?” 

“You can use your tits on me too. Not just your mouth or your other parts.” 

You tugged down the front of his pants and pressed your chest to his bare cock. “You mean like this?” you asked, putting his tip over your nipple. 

“Yeah, like that.” 

Yeosang coughed to cover up the moan he suppressed. You loosened his tie, and unbuttoned his shirt as you brought him in for a kiss. Deep, your tongues and mouths locked together, Yeosang immediately grabbed your breasts to pinch your hard nipples. It made you moan into his mouth, which he returned with his own. His hands went down your back, where he grasped your bottom tenderly. Each time he kneaded your cheeks, the toy inside you shifted. Yeosang must’ve sensed this, and started gently pushing and pulling on the rod of beads. He’d let it slide out one or two beads before sinking them back inside to where the tip touched the deepest part. 

“I want you to use something on me,” he murmured in the kiss. “It’s not fair that you get to have all the toys.”

You giggled, “Like what?”

“Like this one.”

He took out a cock ring from his pocket, clearly one he swiped off the table. A singular black band, you saw the textured ring within the larger one; both remained attached to a bar with a slim bullet vibe inside. You smiled up at him knowingly. 

“It’s always the quiet ones,” you sneered at him, kissing him softly before taking the ring from him. “But, what if I put it on wrong?” 

“Don’t worry, YN-ssi,” Yunho told you, pushing the head of his cock to your wet pussy, “I’ll observe you to make sure you’re doing it right.” 

He put both his hands over yours and helped you put the cock ring on Yeosang. One ring wrapped around his balls underneath, the larger one settled around the base of his cock, with a soft click the vibe came to life. Yeosang nearly jumped out of his seat in a surprised yelp. Clearly the toy proved more effective than he expected. Some of the members cackled and imitated him, but neither of you noticed them. 

“Don’t put it too high,” Yunho told you, hands leaving yours to cup your chest. “I’m sure Yeosang-ssi wants to enjoy other parts of you first.” 

“Like what?”

“Like these,” Yeosang answered, squeezing your breasts again. “I could cum just playing with them.”

“Only playing with them?” Yunho teased, kissing your neck as he smirked. “I’ve seen something different.” 

“What do you mean, sir?” you asked him. 

“Yeosang will show you. I’ll be right here to watch…”

You gasped at the sudden intrusion of Yunho’s length into your pussy. He continued the careful motion of using the anal toy in time with his own thrusts. Someone, you’re not sure who, dripped more lubricant between you and Yunho so the slipperiness made it smoother. But, it was Yeosang and his vibrating toy you focused on. 

Yeosang’s cock sticking straight up, you grasped it with both hands and stroked languidly. He gripped onto the edge of the desk and the back of his chair as he watched, mesmerized, by the sight of you. You knew the combination between your hands and the toy would be enough to make him burst all over you, but you kept it steady. You wasted no time in licking him from top to bottom after stroking him to full hardness, and making sure to swirl your tongue around the tip every time. When he kept back a moan in his throat, you latched your lips around the sensitive underside. Flicking your tongue over the wrinkled area, Yeosang gasped and cried. The vibe inside the ring tickled your hands and tongue every time you moved over it; you felt it doing the same to Yeosang’s balls, which you couldn’t help licking and sucking on to hear him moan louder. 

“You’re doing so well, YN-ssi,” Yunho groaned, fucking both your holes so carefully it drove you mad. “Keep working Yeosang just like that.” 

“It’s leaking a lot, Mr. Jeong,” you replied, licking a trickle of precum from Yeosang’s tip, “It tastes really good.”

“Because you’re making me feel good,” Yeosang replied, stomach and chest heaving as you kept going. “It does that when…when…”

“I want more,” you whined, looking up at him as your mouth engulfed his cock all the way to your throat. “How do I get more?”

“Let me fuck your tits,” Yeosang huffed, surprising the members looking on you both. “Please.” 

The thing Yeosang liked the most. His dick, flushed red and throbbing in your hands, fit perfectly between your breasts, the tip just barely sticking out of your cleavage. Yeosang bit his lower lip when you spat over the head, and used your tits to wet him somewhat. Then you slowly started lifting and lowering yourself on it, keeping them around his shaft as much as you could. Yunho, still behind you, started picking up his pace so you felt his tip hit your g-spot each time. The sobs he created tickled Yeosang’s tip. Yeosang let out a low groan as he restrained himself from pushing up into you. You upped the ante by putting his hands on your breasts once more and holding them there as his cock slipped between the supple mounds. His hands squeezing and kneading them added to the sensations tensing up inside you, his thumbs grazing over your nipples. As much as you enjoyed it, Yeosang enjoyed it more. His pleasure heightened when you started sucking the head every time he pushed it close to your mouth. The vibrating ring below will keep him from really cumming until you remove it, and you use this to your advantage. The tingling feeling it brought on had Yeosang breathing heavily and getting closer and closer to orgasm. 

You suckled the head hard, guiding his hands into kneading your tits, “Am I doing well?” 

“Yes,” Yeosang breathed, “God, yes…”

“Am I really, Professor?” you turned to Yunho, purposefully pushing your hips onto his so he groaned. 

“You’re doing very…very well,” he sighed. He put his lips to your ear, kissing beneath it as he said, “I would’ve thought you’ve done this before. You’re such a natural. I think you might make Yeosang cum just like you did for Seonghwa.” 

"Fuck, I am gonna cum,” Yeosang murmured, biting his lower lip and gripping the desks on either side of him. “I’m gonna cum, fuck, yes. I’m going to…fuck, yes…fuck…” 

A few more strokes later and thin streams squirted from his tip. You caught a few in your mouth, but most of them leaked onto your chest. The thicker lines streamed down your skin, decorating your breasts in more and more cum. The smell and taste never bothered you, and you eagerly licked up whatever remained for Yeosang to see. The vibe had him shuddering and wiggling around from the sensitivity, but you didn’t let that stop you. You rubbed his cock over your nipples so his cum smeared over them, then suckled it tenderly. 

“Like I said,” Yunho said, pumping deeply into you now, “A natural.” 

“Bring her up here.”

You opened your eyes to see Hongjoong standing on the other side of the desk in front of you. Dread filled your chest realizing how quickly this game was going to end. Yeosang, having removed the ring, helped Yunho bring you onto the table. You whimpered when you spotted the handcuffs and ball gag in his hand. Flat on your back, Hongjoong buckled the handcuffs around your wrists so they remained together, and a pang of excitement hit you. Spreading your legs, Hongjoong let his length rest on your sex while he smoothed his hands up and down your sides, bringing you in for a deep kiss. He didn’t mind the strings of cum still on your chin; he licked them up to slide them into your mouth which created more mess. 

“Just relax, baby,” Hongjoong whispered to you, hands gently rubbing your waist. “You know if it’s too much, you use your signals and we stop.”

“The show-”

“-I don’t care about the show,” he cut you off. “I care about you. We’ll finish whenever you want, okay? We won’t be mad at you; you know that. You do know that, right?”

“Yes,” you nodded. 

He fed you a bit of cum left on your chest, moaning when you sucked it off his thumb. “I’m gonna fuck you now,” he murmured, pecking your lips one more time, “And you’re going to lay there like a good girl and take it. Understand?”

“Yes, Oppa.”

He scoffed as he ran his tip up and around your sex. “No,” he shook his head, “Not ‘Oppa’. I’m the captain,” he groaned, “And that’s what you call me.” He pushed the head against your pulsing entrance, “Got it?”

“Yes, Captain,” you whimpered, keeping your hands above your head as he wanted. Gyrating your hips against him, you said, “Use me however you like.”

“Oh, I will.”

Your body already accustomed to penetration, he had no trouble sliding into you. Holding onto the backs of your knees, Hongjoong started at a steady speed. The anal toy inside you occasionally knocked on the edge of the table, the slight vibration bringing on a trickle of arousal. Your eyes rolled back at the pangs of pleasure throbbing inside you; you became completely blind to everything except Hongjoong's cock. He slid one hand up your body, smearing Yeosang’s cum over your chest before reaching for your throat. A gentle squeeze on either side of your neck weakened your string of moans each time his hips met yours. 

“You’re loving this, aren’t you?” he rasped in your ear, biting your earlobe gently as he did. “You love being fucked by all of us one after the other, huh?”

“Yes! Yes, I do!”

“And why is that, hm? Why do you like having so many dicks at one time?”

You knew what he wanted you to say, and you said it. “Because I’m a whore, Captain,” you whimpered, eyes staying open no matter how much pleasure he pumped into your body, “I’m a filthy whore who can’t get enough dick.”

He laughed through gritted teeth, and started pounding you hard. “That’s right,” he chuckled when your moans grew louder, “That’s exactly what you are….a fucking filthy whore…” he grabbed your hips and stood up, his balls hitting your ass each time he went inwards, “And filthy whores need to be reminded of their…their place…” he swatted his hand over one of your breasts, the little sting adding to your pleasure, “You know where your place is, don’t you?”

“I do, sir. I do.”

“And where is it? Say it nice and loud for us to hear you,” his head tilted back as your sex gripped him tightly, “Where is it?”

“On the end of a dick, sir,” you said. 

“Louder!” he smacked your breasts again, making you squeak. 

“On the end of a dick, sir,” you repeated. 

“Eh, I don’t think I heard you,” sneered Jongho, standing near the desk. “Can you repeat that?”

“On the end of a dick, sir.”

“Say it in a complete sentence, slut,” Yunho said into your ear, “You’re still in class.”

“My place is on the end of a dick, sir,” you cried out right as your orgasm approached. “Oh my god, it’s on your dicks.”

“That’s right,” smiled Hongjoong. “Good job. Very good job. You’re going to be the perfect class whore.” 

He must’ve felt your climax arriving, since he then immediately pulled out. When you whined in disappointment, he slapped his fingers on your sex. “Now, now, I know you’re a whore and everything, but try to have some patience.” He slapped your pussy again, much to the delight of the members around him. “It’s no fun if you’re cumming every single time your hole gets filled,” he spanked your pussy one more time, the climax receding and the pain emerging, “At least hold on a little bit, okay?” 

He held your legs up by the ankles and began spanking your pussy for the others to watch. The sharp stings and occasional brushes on your clit made your teary eyed and sopping wet. Each time his fingers tapped you, you felt your sex throb with the need for release. Soon, Hongjoong stopped spanking and started rubbing it in circles with his tip, occasionally dipping back inside to get you to the edge. It was when he pulled out that you grew closest to the blinding orgasm his teasing created, and it burned. 

“How does that feel, YN-ssi?” Yunho then asked you, watching you come down from the edge again. “Does it hurt?”

“A little bit.”

“Do you want your professor to make it better?” he asked you, “And your classmates to make it better?”

“Please.”  

“Hongjoong-”

“-But I like this,” he whined, smirking at your pain. “I like teaching sluts how to hold in their orgasms. It’s not fair if she’s cumming before me all the time.” He suddenly picked up the pace, “She’s only a slut. She should be making us cum, not the other way around.”  

You tried not to grin at his degrading words. Hongjoong loved you, you knew that, so this statement did not hurt you at all. It excites you more. 

“-We’re moving the lesson along, Hongjoong.” 

“Hmph, fine,” he frowned. He withdrew from you, but not before kissing you softly. “I’ll teach you properly another time,” he whispered. 

You nodded and he pulled away from you. He then joined the others in kissing and caressing you all over. Their touch made everything a million times harder. They knew your body, and all your pleasure points; the lingering twists of pain and pleasure tickled your orgasm once more. The small bits of pleasure they gave when their lips touched a sensitive spot already threatened to topple you. You saw the others come over to you, their eyes drinking in the sight of you, and you shuddered. 

You noticed they each held their bullet toys again, and you cried. The collective buzzing coming from the vibrating toys had you squirming in anticipation of the torture. Yunho, the lover of sex toys, pressed his toy to you first. He started at your lower stomach, the gentle tickling making you giggle and wriggled from the touch. Him and the others laughed, joining in the tickling that distracted you from your hot center. They rolled them to your hips, around your ankles to behind your knees and back. The sensation zapped at your ticklish spots that it had you wriggling on the table. 

“You’re so cute when you’re ticklish,” Yunho grinned, rolling his toy to your nipple where the gentle vibration stimulated you. You sobbed at the feeling, “But I like it when you’re moaning instead.” He circled your nipple before pressing it right on you, and smiling at your reaction. 

When Mingi put his vibe in the opposite spot, you bit down on your lower lip to restrain a cry. “Doesn’t that feel good?” he asked, his deep voice bringing shivers down your spine that it tickled you. “I bet it does, especially with how badly you want to cum,” He took a moment to lick your nipple before using the toy again, “You’re dripping all over the desk.” 

“It’s really, really, really wet now,” said Jongho, who ran his toy close to your sex alongside Yeosang’s toy. The low vibration caused you to move around on the table, but he didn’t break away. “I want to make it wetter.” 

“Me too.” 

Seonghwa placed his toy right against your entrance, the sudden sensation cascading through you. Wooyoung, on the other side, put the very tip of his on your clit, while Yeosang and Jongho pressed their toys to the sides. The coming together of the four toys had your knees shaking and your thighs trembling. The orgasm quickly built itself back up, and your hands clenched into fists wrapped around the edge of the table. You could hardly move away, because that only slightly changed their positions and caused further pleasure. San, finally, started playing with your anal plug once more; he gently tugged and pushed on the rod that prodded your insides, making you desperate. Mingi and Yunho swishing their toys over your nipples pushed you closer and closer. Damn it felt so good. You thought you might go insane from it. You’ll become addicted and want nothing else. Tears started rolling down your temples and into your hair. Hongjoong wiped one side and kissed the spot. 

“Go ahead and cum,” Hongjoong said. “Be a good girl and listen to your captain now,” he kissed the bit of neck he could reach. “You want to make your captain happy, don’t you? I’m the captain, so keeping me happy should always be your first priority.” 

You knew this wasn’t entirely true, and tried blocking him out. You wished you could give a proper response, but the whirl of pleasure inside you made that difficult. Every nerve in your body told you to let it go. They pleaded with you to end the torture in a burst of blinding bliss. Once they began rolling in unison, your back arched and you screamed into the air. The orgasm did not push you off the edge. It did not nudge or trip you into it. The damn thing flung you off mercilessly, and you felt your walls tighten and your clit become extremely sensitive as your orgasm wracked your body. So much so that the desk underneath you rocked backward and forward before someone took hold of it. The last time you came this way was the last orgy. 

Then you realized the silence in the room once you finished. 

“Fuck, that was so hot,” Wooyoung breathed out deeply. “I didn’t know she could do that.”

“I think it’s because it’s been a while,” guessed Seonghwa, who bent down to kiss your cheek. 

You then noticed a distinct wetness underneath you as you slid on the wooden desk. It hadn’t been powerful enough for you to notice, but you thought you might have squirted a bit. You didn’t know if you liked that, even though it put you on cloud nine afterwards. The sudden disappointment that you’d lost the game came over you, and you felt ashamed of yourself for not lasting long enough. But, the members sensed this change in your mood and rectified it immediately. 

Jongho took your hand and guided you over to a chair. He sat down, bringing you into his lap. He glided his throbbing member against your quivering sex, knowing it sent shockwaves throughout your body. Your boyfriend gave gentle, deep kisses while his hands fondled you. Taking deep breaths to relax yourself, Jongho said nothing as he pecked down your neck. Jongho was always sweetest after an orgasm, softly stroking and coaxing you into another one. He put your cuffed hands behind his head, so you remained locked against him while he teased you. 

“I want you to ride me,” he muttered between kisses. “Can you do that for me?” When you nodded weakly, he took you by the hips. “Are you sure?” 

“Yes,” you said, nodding again. 

“Silly slut,” he grinned, a gummy smile making your insides squirm. “So eager to please me that you’ll lie through your teeth. If you say you can, then go ahead.” 

Jongho did not budge an inch. You’d be doing the work, since you said you could even if your entire body turned to putty. Weakly, you stood up over Jongho’s tip, noticing he’d rolled on a condom for you, and sat on it slowly. Jongho let out a low groan as your encompassed him. Hands on the seat of his chair, he did not hold onto you nor guide you along his length. Grabbing onto the back of the chair, you meekly started riding him. Your burning thighs and legs didn’t do much in the way of lifting you up and down on him as you normally did. He barely pulled out of you. 

“I thought you could ride me,” Jongho taunted, smirking at your pathetic attempts to fuck him. “Why aren’t you riding me?”

“I am,” you squeaked. 

“Mr. Jeong,” he looked over at Yunho, “Is she really?”

“She’s certainly trying her best.”

“I-I am-m,” you protested, giving a few emphasized bounces before you gave up. 

“I don’t think you are,” Jongho said, finally taking hold of your bottom. You murmured when he started grabbing your ass, sliding a finger through the stick of anal beads to gently pull it out and then back in. “Because the ladies in the movies go up and down,” he started moving his hips into yours so you became a mess of moans again, “And you’re not really doing anything.”

“She’s just tired,” argued Mingi from a sideboard nearby. He softened slightly, but you saw him still stroking, “Cut her some slack.”

“But why are you mad?” laughed Seonghwa. 

“Because you guys are being mean,” he pouted. 

“She likes it when we’re mean,” Jongho smiled, lifting you to stand over him as he thrusted up into you. You fisted the back of his shirt, and moaned when his cock hit the right spot. “She likes being treated this way. Don’t you, YN-ssi?”

“Yes, yes,” was all you could breathe out, more stimulation driving you closer to the end. “I love it when you treat….treat me like this.”

“Good, you should,” he said, grabbing your hair tightly and holding you in place. Your legs cramped slightly from being in a squatted position over him, but the pleasure won out in every thrust upwards. “Because that’s how all slutty girls need…to be treated.” He panted as his pleasure heightened, making his head fall back. You made an attempt to push back into him, but he gripped your waist tightly. “Stay like that, stay like that,” he panted quickly, “Just stay right there like that. Let me…Let me…fuck…” 

A few more strokes had Jongho unleashing all the restraint he’d shown before. Lifting you up onto a table behind you, he charged into you feverishly as the members watched. He’d smack your chest every time you tried pushing into him, growling that you remained where you’re meant to be. Soon, Jongho shuddered and squeezed his eyes shut as he came inside you. You didn’t feel anything since he wore a condom, but you liked the thought of him emptying in you instead of in the condom. You wished all of them would. 

You knew how much they’d like to see it overflowing. 

But, you hadn’t climaxed. Not that your body felt up to it, that is. Jongho’s turn left you quivering in place, burning from the overstimulation and worn out from the constant movement. Last time happened at home where you had comfortable couches and pillows, and there’d been no cameras. You felt the need to be ‘on’ creeping over you. What if fans saw you tapping out early and made fun of you for not taking it? What if the members played this back later and realized they didn’t want a partner who couldn’t handle all eight of them? No. You’re being stupid. 

“Come here, angel.” 

It was Mingi. He brought you into his arms, holding you up on weakened knees, and carefully removed your anal beads. When he fully removed them, you felt a bit of relief come your way. He took you over to a corner of the room where someone set down the long body pillow from home. No doubt one of the members requested that someone leave it there. Mingi let you rest on the plush pillow, which acted as a mattress to cushion you on the hard floor. He removed your skirt at last, and unbuckled your wrist restraints, then immediately knelt between your thighs. Mingi, eyes full of tenderness, pecked your lips and nuzzled your nose with his. He shushed you when you started whimpering as his cock rested against your sore clit. 

“I’m not going to go in yet,” he whispered, kissing you as he rubbed his hands up and down your body. “I want you to take a little water break, okay? Relax this beautiful body of yours for a few minutes-”

“-But the-”

“-Forget the show,” he said. He removed his school shirt, leaving himself in a white t-shirt, and used it to clean whatever remained on your chest. “We care about you,” he said, kissing your neck as he wiped you down. “We can stay like this until you’re ready to keep going. You did so well already,” he kissed you again. “You always try hard to make us feel good. We appreciate that so much.” 

“Here, baby,” San appeared beside you with a water bottle, “You must be so thirsty.” 

You were. You didn’t realize it until you’d gulped down half the bottle. You’d fall asleep right then if the show didn’t have to continue. “I’m sorry,” you said quietly, hoping to God the cameras and microphones did not pick it up. 

“Don’t be,” San insisted, leaning beside you and pushing hair from your face. “We don’t expect you to be the same every time. We’re in a different place, and you’re moving around a lot more than at home.” He let you finish the bottle before putting it aside. He slowly kissed you as Mingi peppered more on your collar bones. “You look so beautiful, baby,” he said with a small smile, “So cute and sweet. I wish we could take this home so you can wear it there.”

“You can be the pretty girl we bring home to help with homework,” Mingi suggested, carefully grinding against you. “And then we get,” he smirked, “A bit distracted.” 

“Would you be mean to me?” you pouted at him. 

“Never,” he replied, pecking your lips. 

“Me either,” San added. “I only like being mean when you’ve been bad, and you’re hardly ever bad,” he awed, nuzzling your neck until you giggled. "You're always such a good girl. I never have to punish you."

“I never like edging you anyways,” Mingi admitted, carefully running his length up and down your slit. His voice became lower as his arousal built up, “I prefer making you cum over and over again. I like knowing I can do that to you.”

You gave weak, small moans as he started at a steady pace. Mingi kept it smooth, not pouding or thrusting too deeply like the other members might. The blond simply held your hips and moved gently. Still tired from your previous orgasms, you couldn’t bring yourself to move into him, and you guessed he did not expect you to do so. He leaned over you, kissing your neck and grabbing your tits like he normally would. 

“But watching you squirt even a little bit was so hot,” he said between kisses. “I never thought I’d like that. But I think it’s because it was you doing it. Everything you do turns me on so much,” he kissed you again, completely breaking his character now. “You get me hard doing the simplest things.”

“Like what?” you asked, your own desires starting to stir inside you. 

“Eating lollipops,” he answered, eyes closing as pleasure took over him. “Eating ice cream…letting it drip down your chin just a little bit or licking it while looking…looking at me…” he propped himself up on his elbows, and angled his hips to hit deeper. “Just…Just standing in the kitchen, cooking in your cute little pajamas, and making it…it obvious you’re not wearing a bra,” he chuckled at this memory. “Fuck, it turns me on. Why do you make me so fucking horny all the time? I’ve never been like this with anyone but you.” 

“Because you’re a pervert,” you giggled, watching him unravel in front of you. You reached underneath the shirt until he knelt up to let you pull it off. Mingi didn’t always show off his defined abdomen, but you wished he would. “But that’s okay,” you pinched one of his nipples gently, earning a soft whine from him, “I am too.” Having this bit of encouragement had Mingi rocking into you fully, but never moving too fast. “There’s a reason I go to the gym when you’re all there,” you grinded yourself against him and he groaned loudly, “Because I like watching you all work out.”

“Maybe we should start going to the gym more often,” San smirked, reaching down between your thighs where he lightly grazed your clit. Seeing you moan at his touch, he continued going around it in small circles. “That way you can look as much as you want,” he said, bringing your lips to his and kissing you, “And get fucked there too.”

“Sannie-ah,” you giggled.

“We’d make sure there was nobody around.” 

He traced his fingertips over the space between clitoris and entrance in a U-shape. Shivers made your knees jolt and lift up, and Mingi took the motion to slide deeper inside. You briefly imagined gym sex with either of them: San laying on a bench press while you rode him to climax or Mingi standing behind you while you cycled in place, his cock creating the same pleasure it did now. Mingi’s restrained murmurs told you he wanted to move faster and harder; he wanted to chase down the orgasm he’d been holding in this entire time. It occurred to you that your boyfriends must be aching to finish the shoot already, and cover you in their cum again. Yeosang, Jongho, and Seonghwa already finished, they sat on the sidelines as spectators. For some reason, their indifference to the action going on in front of them made you hornier. Yet, the others still stroked and squeezed themselves. Though, of course, Hongjoong had no problem with this. You rolled your hips lazily against Mingi, which urged him to move his hips faster. Hands gripping your sides, his eyes fell shut as he let his passion take over. 

“I’ve always wanted to do public stuff with you,” you told him, knowing the image would send him over soon. “I know you’d love pinning me up against a wall somewhere that people might see us.” You pinched one of his nipples again, rolling it between his fingers. “I wonder if Atinys know what a fucking perv you are. I think they’d be surprised by it, don’t you?”

“Yes,” he breathed, eyes still closed. “Yes, yes, yes.” 

“I think he’s about to cum,” said San, who moved down your body to lick your nipple. “He sounds so close, baby.”

“He is close.” 

You tightened your walls around him for a better grip, and Mingi’s moans grew louder. He always became more sensitive whenever his orgasm approached. He bent down to kiss you, still pounding inside you, right as he started cumming. His moans vibrated against your lips, filling your mouth along with his tongue. You wrapped yourself around him with as much strength as possible, hand in his blond hair, as you let him go at his own pace. You whined audibly when you felt him slip out of you, the familiar sound of a condom being removed, and warm cum spilling onto your hip. Mingi didn’t touch it as he came, watching his dick twitch and spasm in every groan before finally settling down. 

“You didn’t cum,” he frowned, realizing this once it passed. “I’m-”

“-It’s fine,” you said. You didn’t think you really could anyways, but you knew how it might look on camera. “I just wanted to make you feel good,” you sat up to kiss his stomach and chest, finally reaching his lips when he leaned down. “Did it feel good?”

“It did,” he sighed. “Thank you, noona.”

You giggled, “You're welcome.”

San came next, and leaned into your ear. “Can I go next, noona?” he asked, also breaking from that concept role. 

You sometimes forget how much younger some of them were, since you never forced honorifics on them. You still liked how it sounded when they did use it, mostly to get their way, which you almost always caved. You smiled, rubbing his nose with yours, “Of course, you can, Sannie-ah.”

“And me too. Come ride me.” 

Yunho appeared at your side, Mingi having left you to rest against a desk nearby. He took your place on the faux mattress, and you immediately straddled his hips. Yet, you kept your back arched and Yunho spread your ass cheeks for what San really wanted. 

“Can I?” he asked, hope in his eyes as he took position behind you. His covered tip already swirled that ultra-sensitive spot, tapping it while Yunho squeezed your ass. 

“Mm-hm,” you nodded, shaking your hips to show your consent. 

“It’s why I brought those beads,” Yunho said, his own cock sliding over your slick sex. “I know how much he likes fucking your ass,” he smirked when you whimpered at the touch, “And I didn’t want to make it too difficult for you.”

“So thoughtful of you,” you smiled, kissing him gently, “Mr. Jeong.”

San pressed small kisses up your spine to your shoulder, holding you close to him as he sheathed himself into your ass carefully. He certainly stretched you, but not painfully. Someone dropped more lubricant between the both of you as they’d done before, yet San managed to control himself. 

“M-M-Mr. Jeong,” you whined in Yunho’s ear, “It-It feels so good. Is it supposed to feel li-like that?”

“It is,” he replied, “But want to know what will make it extra good?”

“What?”

“Me.”

You gasped, nails digging into the body pillow under Yunho, as he pushed himself into your pussy. Being filled in both ends, your body froze at the sudden explosion of pleasure. Both men started with gradual thrusts, moaning when your holes clenched them both, before going faster. Your eyes rolled back to your head, and you could hardly focus on anything except the cocks deep inside you. Their balls slapped your pussy when they took turns sliding in and out of you, attacking your g-spot from each end. San held your arms behind your back, so your tits bounced right in front of Yunho, who grabbed one. 

“How’s that, YN-ssi?” Yunho asked smugly, knowing the exact answer to his question. 

You couldn’t answer. Your brain appeared incapable of doing so, and this made the men around you chuckle. The members you hadn’t fully pleasured yet, Hongjoong and Wooyoung, took to either side of you with their cocks in their hands. Wooyoung took one of your limp hands from San to wrap around himself, while Hongjoong guided your head to his leaking tip. 

“Look at her,” Hongjoong hissed when you began firmly sucking him, “The class slut taking all of our cocks so well. I think I’m going to enjoy this class.”

“I might take her home,” Wooyoung added, pushing his wet cock between your fingers. Wooyoung never needed the “entire package”, as he called it. He could be content with the top half just as much as your bottom half. Your hand, squeezing and pumping him, was enough to get him close to the edge. “I can’t imagine what she could do once I get her alone.”

“If anyone’s taking YN-ssi anywhere,” grunted Yunho, who pumped into you deeply, “It’s her teacher. I have so much tutoring material to g-go over with her.”

“I could use some tutoring too, sir,” said Hongjoong, who shoved himself deep into your throat so you gagged. He kept forcing himself in and out, not caring about the amount of drool coming out. “I want to know other ways I can use our slut to cum.”

“There are so many ways,” he replied. 

“She feels so good, sir,” San groaned, matching Yunho’s speed. “Her ass is amazing and tight. She’s gonna milk every drop at this rate.”

“And that’s exactly what she wants,” Hongjoong withdrew his cock and rubbed it over your lips and chin to slide more saliva into your mouth, “Isn’t that right, YN? You want every bit of cum you can get out of us, huh?”

He chuckled when you only nodded, far too gone and fucked out to respond properly. Your newest orgasm slowly approached, and you thought you might lose your mind from how good it felt. Wooyoung muffled your constant string of cries with his own length, your free hand working Hongjoong as easily. Your pussy began clenching tightly around Yunho, who slowed down when he sensee this. 

“No, no, no, YN-ssi,” Yunho said, staying inside and rolling his hips into yours, “You haven’t made your classmates cum yet. It’s not fair to cum before they do. A proper slut would pleasure us first, and herself second.” Not a thing any of them really believed in, but God, it turned you on. “You stay right there and let us use your pretty holes to cum.”

“Then, we’ll see about you cumming after,” smirked Hongjoong, who gripped your hand to make you squeeze his cock. 

The four men continued using you how they wished. Hongjoong and Wooyoung took turns abusing your throat, the pain burning there and choking you at repeated intervals, while San and Yunho stretched your sex and ass over and over again. Soon enough, their heated orgasms came. Hongjoong held back your head as he and Wooyoung shot their loads into your mouth, letting the streams hit parts of your face and chest as they jerked themselves over you. Feeling Yunho and San unload inside you almost distracts you from swallowing, causing some to leak out of your mouth, but once they finished, Yunho spoke. 

“Go ahead, YN-ssi,” he said, slamming into you while San rested his head on your shoulder, nestled inside you still. “Go ahead and cum now. That’s it…just like that…” 

You came harder than you did the last time, nearly screaming from the pleasure. Tears streamed down your face at the overwhelming sensation tightening your body, almost constricting your breathing and hurting your jaw from being open so long. Your nails scratched down Yunho’s chest, which made him wince but not in displeasure, and you felt everything in your body aching when your muscles tensed again. The men surrounding you praised and soothed you with kisses anywhere they could put them as you came down in heavy shaky breaths. You’d black out right then if the cameras didn’t remain on. You knew you’d have to clean up, get dressed again, and go home in a van before getting comfortable. But, you didn’t see how that’d be possible with the absolute wringer your boyfriend put you through. Your body fell forward onto Yunho, and everything felt hot. Very hot. Almost making you dizzy and suffocating you. You couldn't stop yourself from trembling. 

“Baby?” Yunho said, all bravado from before dropping like a hat. "Are you okay?" 

“Bu-Bu-Butter-Cup,” you managed to get out, struggling for breath. 

He and San swiftly withdrew and let you lay down. With a big amount of space, you take big gulps of air and let the cool air wash over you. You saw the concerned faces around you, and felt hands gently caressing you. 

“Just breathe, babe,” Hongjoong said. How did he soothe you so easily? How did he calm you when nobody else could? “You’re okay. It’s over now. Just breathe and let us take care of you, alright?” 

“I’m…I’m…”

“Don’t speak,” Yunho came up next to you. Another one whose gentle, big-puppy energy relaxed you into the pillow under you. “We’ll take care of everything else. You rest up now, okay?” 

You became a puddle of mush. You knew you wouldn’t be able to move for a few hours at least. How’d they get you home if you didn’t move? You didn’t care. Something cold and wet touched your face and began wiping the cum from you. The salty taste in your mouth left you desperately thirsty, but it became hard to convey that verbally. Thankfully, years of sex and intimacy gave the members experience in your aftercare. A straw came up to your lips, and you gulped like you’d gone through the desert. You laid back into someone’s arms. You’re not sure who. Seonghwa? Mingi? Someone broad, for sure. They and someone else helped you into a fluffy robe, which you recognized as yours from home. They tied it at your waist, and you felt instant comfort and warmth. You heard a bit of conversation over you before they agreed on something; you didn’t know what, though. A few minutes later, your body was lifted off the floor and you knew by the swiftness it was Yeosang. The Doberman in him triggered the need to show you how strong he is, even when you couldn’t really comprehend it. 

After a bit of movement throughout the school, you ended up outside. Hongjoong must’ve climbed into the van before you, since it was his lap you slid onto. Your head rested on his shoulder, he wrapped his arm around you and kissed the top of your head. No doubt he tried fighting to carry you, but he’s not the strongest of the group. Another figure took up your legs, and by the expert massaging you knew it was Wooyoung. Yet, this touch carried nothing sensual behind it. He only sought to comfort your aching muscles. The gentle movement of the car soon had you falling asleep in Hongjoong and Wooyoung’s laps. 

****

He honestly did not know how you did it. Hongjoong looked down at you, soundlessly sleeping in his arms, and wondered how you hadn’t tapped out in the very middle of it. The orgy at home differed seriously in that it happened at home, where you’d been more comfortable. The directors said it’d look good if you went to them, instead of them ganging up on you like before. Hongjoong disagreed. He’d been sure you’d end the whole thing with Mingi, but when you let San and Yunho double penetrate you, he thought you could handle one more orgasm. He’ll admit he liked fucking you dumb, but when you said your safe word, he couldn’t help the small panic that set in. You’d said it so faintly and he could tell you struggled to breathe with the cum sticking in your throat. He couldn’t help feeling slightly guilty about it. 

“She’s so cute afterwards,” Seonghwa said from behind him. The eldest member leaned over the back of the van seats, gazing down at you lovingly. “When she’s sleeping like that.”

He wasn’t wrong. You always seem so peaceful when you’re asleep. Hongjoong grinned softly, nuzzling your nose even if you didn’t feel it. “She really is,” Wooyoung agreed. “I honestly thought she’d say her safe word sooner. She looked so out of it when she was on top of Jongho.”

“I thought so too,” said Jongho from his seat in the back. “She looked so tired.”

“I hope people aren’t mean about it,” mused San. “They’re always so critical of her.”

“No, Atiny wouldn’t be like that.”

Hongjoong agreed with San. Because she’s their girlfriend, and therefore more intimate with them, some fans tend to be harsh towards you. He knew they’d judge you far more than any of them. The editing team would cut out most of the sex, and blur out whatever they did keep, but it still bothered him. No doubt someone will say something to hurt you, because people can be cruel, especially towards Companions. Though, he'd be there to comfort you as always. 

Idol Companion shows are usually more provocative than normal ones and basically softcore porn at times. He wasn’t sure how to feel when fans first started bringing it up; some members aren’t comfortable showing too much of their bodies, and he didn’t know if you’d want to do it either. Yet, the producers insisted the males kept most of their clothes on, and they severely edited each episode. Hearing their idols cum and seeing their naked torsos is the most anyone would see. They’d all promised they’d dial back the kinky things, since they did want to keep some intimacy between you and them. Yet, the raging arousals and hormones threw all that out. Hongjoong might have gone a little overboard with his dirty talk and how he fucked you, but it was nothing he hadn’t done before. He only worried about the physical toll on you, not what Atinys might think later. Now on the way home, he knew Yunho and Yeosang would take good care of you. Since they all moved into separate dorms, you didn’t live with him anymore, so he couldn’t oversee your aftercare himself. 

“Do you think they’ll let her keep the uniform?” asked Wooyoung, trying to hide his smile. “She looked so cute in it.”

“I don’t think so,” answered Seonghwa. “I asked the stylist and she didn’t really say anything.”

“Oh my god, you asked?!” Wooyoung laughed, eyes wide. 

“I was curious,” he shrugged, “Since they didn’t let us put her back in it.”

“It doesn’t matter anyways,” said Yunho. 

“Why?”

He opened the toy bag on his lap, and pulled out the uniform skirt with a mischievous smile. He worried the group’s cheers and laughter might wake you, but you’d become dead to the world. 

“I hope not every episode is going to be a gangbang,” Hongjoong said, pushing hair from your face and covering you up more, “I don’t think she can handle another one so soon afterwards.”

“They told me most of the episodes are going to just be suggestive,” Seonghwa said. “I asked about that, since I wouldn’t feel right making her go through it at every shoot.”

“YN mentioned there’s one episode with a photoshoot contest,” San told them. “Because I noticed she’d bought all this really sexy lingerie, and she told me it was for an episode.”

“What does the winner get? Do you know?” asked Wooyoung. 

“Oh, that I don’t know. She wouldn’t tell me anything else.”

“I’m just happy this isn’t the first episode,” said Yeosang. “I feel it’s way too much for a first.”

“It’s not the first?” asked Mingi, surprised. “I thought it was.”

“No, they’re shooting them out of order,” Yeosang shook his head. “Something about the locations not reserving one after the other.”

“Then at least we got this one out of the way.”

Yes, at least the hardest one is over. He kissed your forehead, and rested against the window. He felt so content there, holding you and falling into his own exhaustion. It always took so much energy to edge himself, since you brought him to the brink so easily. Maybe he’d go home with you, just to keep you in his arms like this. He’d originally wanted you to live with him, but Yunho and Yeosang lived closer to the dance studio where you volunteered. He guessed it was for the best. 

If you lived with him, Wooyoung and Jongho, you’d never know a moment of peace. 

***

A/N: damn, that was a lot lol this is another part of my idol companion series, which I hope you guys are enjoying as much as I enjoy writing them lol please reblog and like this <3

[neowinestainedress]

DRIPPIN'

pairing: boyfriend!haechan x inexperienced!fem!reader x haechan’s best friends!mark, jeno, jaemin 

genre: smut, pwp, non-idol au, established relationship (with haechan) | requested

summary: you need relief from this strange pain you’re feeling, but you don’t know what to do. Your boyfriend and his friends offer to help, giving you a solution you didn’t quite expect coming.

warnings: smut, fivesome (here we go again lmao), unprotected sex, dubcon bc of corruption kink and innocence kink, minor (unconscious) exhibitionism, voyeurism, thighs riding, fingering, (at first) non-con (then) consensual filming but with a bit of manipulation so dubcon filming, oral sex (m and f), loss of virginity, pet names, praise kink, nipple sucking, spanking, anal (f), c*m play (like a lot), dacryphilia, double penetration, minor pain kink, subspace, too many orgasms, overstimulation, jaemin is nasty, jeno bites, mark and haechan seem normal but they aren’t either | if i missed something lmk

word count: 18.211k (of smut, nothing else, just smut)

a/n: big sigh, this was a challenge on so many levels, from the innocence kink to the fact that it’s my first (and probably last lmao) long-length fic written in second person and present tense. It probably takes more to flow compared to my usual stuff because I didn’t want it to be too overwhelming at the start (wanted to keep as consensual as possible) but I hope when it kicks in, it flows well. I also hope it’s what the person that requested wanted. I know I say it every time, but I seriously think this is the filthiest thing I ever wrote. Please, please, let me know what you think about it, especially if you read my old stuff because this is such a new thing for me and it would mean a lot to know if it’s as good as the rest or if should stick to the old way. Enjoy!!♡

You don’t know what’s wrong with you. You feel a weird sensation in your body. It’s... funny, that’s how you would describe it, apart from feeling hotter, and more sensitive at the slightest touch. 

You don’t think you’re sick or something, it’s not the first time that this happened and it’s not painful, just annoying. And the worst of it all is that you don’t know how to take care of it. 

An irrational part of you is telling you to talk to your boyfriend, Haechan. But another feels that it’s wrong. It’s like a prude part of your brain is screaming to keep it to yourself. 

And yes, it had happened before but it never felt like this, it never lasted this long. It had been two days that you feel... You feel... Needy? Clingy? Whiny? 

It feels pathetic, and you only hope that whatever it is, it will pass fast. 

“Oh,” you exclaim when you enter the living room and see your boyfriend’s best friends sit on one of the two couches. “I didn’t know you were coming.” You walk toward them and see their eyes linger on you longer than usual. “Oh, I was going to bed. That’s why the pj’s,” you chuckle, totally not getting that their gazes weren’t judging ones but horny, something you couldn’t know. You couldn’t even get it when your boyfriend looked at you like this, so how could you do it with his friends? 

“Babe.” Haechan’s voice makes you turn around and smile at him softly. “My bad, it was kinda a last-minute thing.”

“No, it’s okay,” you reply, shivering when his hand rests on your middle and rubs circles against the thin fabric of your camisole. Your eyes trail there, feeling your skin burn and you start to wonder if maybe you have a fever or something. “Beer and game night?” You force yourself to bring your attention back to them, smiling at the other three men as if nothing is going on. 

“Actually, no alcohol, we have to drive home,” Mark replies, gulping after he drifts his eyes away from your hard nipples. You’re not wearing a bra and they are rock hard under the thin layer covering your beautiful body and he knows is not due to the cold because the temperature in the room is normal. It even starts feeling hot the more he looks at you. 

“Well, have fun then,” you say, eyes wrinkling as you beam at them. “I’ll just go back to our bedroom —”

“No, come on, babe,” Haechan says, pulling you close to him. “Stay with us. You wanted cuddles before, didn’t you?" He coos, making you lower your head to hide how flustered you look. Yes, you did ask for it, hoping it would ease some of your pain, but it’s so embarrassing in front of his friends. 

“It’s because I had a rough week,” you justify to them. You always fear what you look like in their eyes. You have a feeling that they don’t even like you that much because you are quite different from Haechan’s exes or the girls they surround themselves with. You kind of envy them for being so confident and not so affectionate. Thinking the way you act makes you look dumb in their eyes. 

“It’s fine, no judgment here,” Jeno reassures, winking at you... And why do you find that attractive? 

You mentally slap yourself before letting Haechan drag you on his lap. One of your favorite cuddling positions; facing him, resting your head on his shoulder, and enjoying his hands rubbing your back. You’d like to listen to their talks, or discussions on what game they want to play or if it was better to watch a movie, but your mind is somewhere else. 

You feel off and euphoric at the same time, mind dizzy, disconnected from your rational part, guiding your body without you even knowing. You blame it on the way Haechan is touching you, smooth hands pressing harder than usual on your skin, and occasionally going lower on your half-exposed ass. You don’t think much about it, too lost in the sensation, and almost sleepy while your left cheek rests against his shoulder.

You don’t know that on the other side of the room, your boyfriend’s best friends’ eyes are boring holes into you, trying to play it cool, to don’t get caught by him while they stare at your skin, and think of how soft and pretty —and spankable— your ass looks as it starts grinding against him, trying not to drool like horny dogs.

“Hyuck,” you whine when you feel your body get hotter. “I think I have a fever.” 

Your boyfriend hums, bringing his attention to you that are now looking at him after pulling away from his body. 

“A fever?” He asks, raising a hand to touch your forehead. “Babe, you’re fine.” 

You want to retort and say that you don’t feel fine, but you guess he wants to spend some time with his friends and you’re already getting too much in the way. Maybe you should just go to your bedroom and sleep, it was going to pass, it had to pass. 

So you clear your throat and move away from Haechan. “I’m going to sleep,” you say, waving at his friends before leaning in to kiss him, shorts rising up more, giving a perfect view of your asscheeks.  And the other three have to suppress a groan and look away. 

“Are you sure?” Your boyfriend checks in again, fingers grazing the back of your hand in gentle circles. 

“Yeah, I don’t feel,” you stop, not wanting to worry him. “I don’t feel like staying up.” 

“Kay, goodnight, babe,” he greets back, smiling at you, watching you disappear into the bedroom. 

You think it will pass. You hope it will. After minutes that feel like hours, you start to pray it will go away. But the more you try to fight it, the strongest it gets. You feel it between your legs, but the more you squeeze them, the more it grows. The more you rub it away the worst it gets. 

So you huff loudly, move the blankets off your body and go out again. 

“Oh, you’re still here,” you gasp when you see that his friends are still at home. And you don’t know what to do anymore. You really don’t want to ruin his fun, but you feel like you’re going insane and you don’t why you can’t control it. All the other times it went and passed but now it’s like your senses are enhanced. 

“Are you okay?” Haechan’s voice is worried, and he’s looking at you with apprehension. 

“’M fine,” you mumble, running to him, playing nervously with the hem of your camisole. 

“Want some water?” Jaemin asks, seeing how flustered you look and you nod, small steps to walk to him and grab the glass he’s offering you. 

“Slow, honey,” he chuckles when you gulp it eagerly and a droplet of water drips down your chin to your chest, making you whimper at the contrast between the cold water and your burning skin. “Don’t be messy,” he whispers, licking his lips, eyes telling you to do the exact opposite because he’s loving this shaken side of you.

“Thanks,” you breathe, handing him the empty glass and drying your lips with your thumb. You see Jeno shift in his place and growl lowly but you don’t think on it for long. And in a second you’re turned back to your boyfriend. You’re so close to them that Mark is really tempted to pull you on his lap and fuck you. But you slip out of their hold, running to your boyfriend before his fucked up thoughts can come to life. 

“Can’t sleep, can I sit on your lap?” 

Haechan hums, spreading his legs to make space for you, expecting you to give him his back but you sit just like you were before. And when you moan when your lower part brush against his body, he gets what’s going on. 

It had been days since you were needier than usual, oversensitive in a way you usually aren’t. He’s the perverted one that always touches you and teases you, making you shy while you push him away because it feels wrong. He’s the one that makes jokes you don’t get, only widening your eyes and mouth when you realize he’s hinting at something he shouldn’t be talking about so freely and casually. 

But you, God, you are the sweetest, most innocent person he has ever met, and it drives him crazy. He knows it’s wrong, that he shouldn’t fantasize about ruining you, dragging every single piece of innocence and naivety from your brain and turning you into his nasty, horny girl, but he can’t help it. He wants you to be addicted to his lips, his fingers, his cock, every part of him. 

But, as much as he’d like to ruin you, he promised himself he was going to wait for you, wait till a small part of your prude shield falls apart and lets him in, and now, you are serving it on a silver plate. 

He tries to keep his attention on his friends, nodding at whatever Mark is saying and grinning when Jaemin argues back. But then you start rocking your hips on him and all his sanity is gone. 

What the fuck are you doing? And in front of his friends? 

He shouldn’t find that hot. He really shouldn’t get a boner for the fact that you’re so turned on that you’re trying to get off in front of everybody without even knowing. 

It’s wrong. So wrong. 

But he forgot the line between wrong and right a long time ago when it comes to you. 

So he grips your hips tighter and for some unknown reason, that gets you even more. 

You bite your lips and press more against him, feeling… something hard? 

You blink hazily, sitting straight to face him with a confused expression but your hips are still grinding against him, slower than before, but the movement is perceptible enough to drag other three pairs of eyes there. 

“Hyuck…?” You ask, voice barely higher than a whisper and hands wrapped around his shoulders when you feel it move. “What — what is that?” 

“What, baby?” He fakes innocence, wanting you to break it, to slip into that world you kept your distance from for so long. 

“Why… why is it hard? Is it you? Or is it the remote?” 

You hear a muffled chuckle from behind you, guessing it comes from Jaemin, and you’re about to turn around when Haechan cups your face and makes you turn to him. His hold is slightly rougher than his usual touch but you don’t mind, it surprises you, but it doesn’t scare you. 

“It’s me, baby,” he coos, smiling. You raise a brow when you see his lips curl in a smirk, a cocky grin that usually paints his face when he wants to prove something, or when he wins, whether it’s a game or an argument. So you don’t truly get why he has it on his face now. You don’t get that you are the game he wants to win. 

You don’t expect him to kiss you, hard and intensively, wrapping one hand behind your neck and pushing your waist toward him with the other. You expect even less to don’t pull away, and so do the others that are looking at the scene. You are the shy one that pulls away at the slightest peck on the cheek in front of his friends so what has taken over you now? 

They don’t know. And they know they shouldn’t care but the thoughts that have been crossing their minds for half of the night were already so fucked up that they surely weren’t going to stop now. You teased them without even knowing. You teased them in front of your boyfriend. And fuck, that was fucked up, but they had no intention to stop. In the end, it was going to be a silly fantasy they were taking home, slumping on their beds alone and jacking off thinking of you in those skimpy pink clothes, making sure Haechan wasn’t going to ever find out about it and then act like usual in front of you. 

“Hyuck,” you moan his name when he pulls back from the kiss, and his hardness rubs against you. “Wait,” you cry, feeling overwhelmed. “I — I feel weird. It — it hurts.”

“Oh, it hurts, baby?” He purrs, stopping his movement, smiling when you nod. 

“It’s been hurting all day, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Where does it hurt, pretty?” He asks and your hands trail down your body, shyly touching your core. “Here.” 

Haechan kisses your pout away before his fingers replace yours and he pushes against your sensitive clit. You moan, squeezing your eyes shut. 

“Yeah, there,” you cry. “Hurt so much, Hyuck. I don’t know how to make it go away.” 

“Want me to make it go away?” He asks, hand cupping your ass and squeezing tight. 

Jeno’s eyes go wide as he stares at you in utter shock. “Wait… are you doing this now? In front of us?” He chuckles to water down the awkwardness and the excitement and you turn around confused. 

“I’m sorry,” you cry out, big sorry eyes locking into his, dark and intense, staring right into you. He makes you shiver as you fear he’s mad at you for ruining their night, so you justify yourself again, “I’ve been holding it all night, but I can’t keep it anymore. I don’t want to ruin your fun, I swear I tried to make it stop but I won’t, it won —”

“Shh,” your boyfriend shushes you with a kiss. Eyeing the other three that are starting with their mouths open. 

You truly don’t know anything. 

“It’s fine, you didn’t ruin our night,” he whispers, caressing your hip. “We’ll help you.”

“We?” Mark’s voice comes out strangled and even if you can’t see him, you know his eyes are wide open. 

Your boyfriend chuckles, smiling at his friends before he grins at you. “She looks really in pain. I’m sure she needs all the help we can give her.”

“Haechan, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Jeno replies, a nervous edge in his voice. 

“They — they don’t want to, it’s fine,” you say, voice huffing when his thigh flexes under your hot core. “If you tell me how, I can, I can take care of this alone.”

Haechan thinks you’re so cute, so close at your breaking point and yet still trying to keep it together. “No, honey, you can’t. I’ll help you.”

“But they —”

“If they don’t want to participate, it’s fine. But I’m sure they won’t mind watching. But they can always leave.”

At this point you don’t care, so you hum and wait for his next move. 

“Did it feel better when you grind on me?” 

“When I did this?” You ask, starting to rock your hips back and forth, hearing a groan come from behind you, but not being able to make out which one of the three is. 

“Yes,” Haechan replies, voice coming out raspy and lower than normal. 

“Am I hurting you?” The innocence in your voice and your eyes and in the way your hands are caressing his shoulders so delicately makes him groan and curse internally as he’d only wish to turn you over and fuck you deep and hard into the couch, not caring much if you can take it that hard or not. But he doesn’t, he has been patient for months, he can wait some minutes. 

“No,” he replies through gritted teeth and that makes you stop, tilting your head to the side as you study his contracted features. 

“Are you sure? Why are you groaning?”

“It feels good, babe. It feels so fucking good.” He grins when your eyes shy away at the vulgar word. He was used to holding back in front of you, knowing you weren’t really fond of swearing, but tonight he is going to have so much fun. “Do you feel good?”

You nod swiftly. Feeling a warm sensation spread in your body the more you move against him. And you feel… wet? You want to ask what it is but it’s like the words can’t form in your brain. Not only you don’t feel pain anymore, but you feel good. Better than ever before. And you feel… high. It’s almost as if your body is running after something bigger, stronger, and more intense. 

“Hyuck,” you call out crying when you feel your stomach twist and your pussy clench before a rush invades your body and makes your body tremble against him before you still, nails digging into his covered shoulders and jaw clenching. You stay like that for a while, chest panting and head thrown back while your eyes are closed and you try to understand why you felt so many emotions there. You know body parts, you know what it was meant for, but you never thought it could feel good. And why? You aren’t going to have babies, right? The doubt slips into the back of your mind, though.

“Feel better?” Haechan asks and you’re brought back to earth. 

You bite your lips, feeling shy when your body screams at you that it’s not enough. 

“A bit,” you reply lowly, looking down at his lap, seeing how hard he is. 

He snorts and then looks at the other three rolling his eyes. They swiftly look around the room, covering their boners the best they can. “Fucking fake prigs I can see your cocks twitch from here,” he mocks, making their eyes snap on him. “So, what are you going to do? Sit there and watch? Leave? Or do you wanna share and fuck around?”

“What?” You ask, not understanding what he means by that. But he ignores you, too busy staring at his friends, waiting for an answer as his feet tap on the floor.  

“Fuck it.” The first one to stand up is Jaemin, reaching you in a few seconds with big steps. If Haechan was willing to share you, he wasn’t going to say no. Virgin and inexperienced, it surely couldn’t have been worse than his hands and his memory of you. 

“Wait, I don’t, I don’t get it,” you mumble when you feel Jaemin’s hands wrap around your waist to pull you away from your boyfriend. 

“You’re in pain, aren’t you?” He asks, tone gentle, a sweet and reassuring smile on his face. You’re so lost in how kind he looks your brain almost stops panicking and you only nod. Well, now you feel better, or that was what you thought, but it seems like the tingly sensation it’s creeping up your bones again. “We just want to help you feel good. Do you trust us?” 

You gulp when he sits you on the couch next to Haechan and when your eyes drift off him, you see Jeno and Mark stand over you too. 

You’re confused. A part of your brain is telling you that you should also probably be scared of what’s about to come but you pay it no mind. You’re burning up. You need something but you don’t know what it is. So how bad can it be that they are helping you with that? Also, you trust Haechan, he would never let them do something you don’t want. 

“Will I feel better?” You ask, looking at Haechan that is already smiling at you. 

“Like you never felt before,” he replies, caressing your cheek with two fingers, shivers running down your spine because it’s like you sense a shift in him —and everybody in the room.  

“O-okay,” your voice is low, but your body relaxes under his soft touch on your exposed thigh. You don’t expect him to kneel between your legs and part them open. You wait for the next move in silence and see their hungry eyes staring at you. 

You look so pure; pastel pink shorts wrapping around your soft thighs, the top laying softly on your upper body, flustered expression, eyes filled with curiosity, apprehension and lust. And when Haechan pulls them down, he reveals white panties, stained with wetness, highlighting even more the outlines of your pussy. 

There’s only one thought that crosses their minds. 

They can’t wait to ruin you. 

But you don’t see it, you’re still pretty unaware of what’s going to happen, how are they going to fix your aching pain between your legs. So that’s why you’re so shocked about what Haechan does next. 

“What are you doing?” Your eyes widen and your legs clump together when he pushes your panties down your legs. 

“Trying to make you feel better,” he smirks as if it’s obvious. 

“You’re — you’re undressing me,” you mumble, feeling too ashamed to meet the others’ eyes, but you can still feel them on your skin. The air of the room seems so cold when it hits against your hot, wet skin and you feel so small and exposed because they are all standing around you, tall and broad, fully dressed and in control. 

“If you want to feel good, we have to see you.” You’re waiting for Haechan to answer but the voice that fills the silence in the room is Jeno’s. 

Your eyes skim to him, gulping when you meet his gaze. You feel like a prey. And he’s starving. They all are.

“But — but you’re not my boyfriends, isn’t this… wrong?” You ask, an instinct telling you that whatever is about to happen shouldn’t be happening like this, not with his friends. It should be only you and your boyfriend. Now you might be innocent but you know being naked is an intimate thing, you barely showed yourself to him after months of dating; the only time he got to see your naked form was after he spent hours convincing you to take a shower together and you gave him your back for half of the time. 

“Is it wrong if it makes you feel good?” Mark asks, smiling at you. 

You ponder on it. Will this make you feel good? You are sure it will, if it’s anything close to what you felt before it can’t be different, but you still feel like it shouldn’t happen. 

“Let’s ask your body, babe,” Haechan brings your attention to him again, spreading your legs and planting your right foot on the couch seat so they can have a perfect view of your cunt. 

You hide your face behind your hands, feeling too exposed, but Jaemin sits beside you and moves them away. 

“Don’t hide, pretty,” he purrs, nose nuzzling against your cheek, making you chuckle lowly. “We’re doing this for you.”

“Fuck,” you hear Mark moan when Haechan spreads your pussy lips apart, cold air hitting your core, making you moan. “She’s dripping.” 

You want to ask what he means by that, but your boyfriend’s fingers hitting a sensitive spot makes you quiver. Your head rolls back and your eyes fall shut. 

You hear muffled chuckles, but you don’t pay them much attention. 

“Look at him,” Jaemin whispers, encouraging you to keep your eyes open and stare right between your legs, you find it wrong and slightly humiliating, but you do as he says. He’s there to make you feel better, so he knows what he’s doing. 

“What is this…” you whimper when Haechan’s fingers touch the substance that is dripping out of your pussy, smearing it around, sticky and cold, making you squirm at the weird sensation. 

“This?” He says, lifting his fingers up after collecting it, two digits scissoring in the air, a white and transparent string connecting them. You nod, not expecting him to do what comes next. “This is how excited you are for us.” He brings his fingers in his mouth and you don’t know why, but something about it feels wrong and your legs close in shame immediately, but Jaemin parts them open.  

“No hiding, remember? You’re so pretty, why would you hide this from us?” He coos, bringing one of his hands where Haechan was before. 

You’re about to complain, once again feeling like he shouldn’t be the one doing that, but Haechan doesn’t say anything, and you can’t complain when he starts moving his fingers on you. Shocks of pleasure spreading through your body as he starts moving them so nicely. 

“Like it, bunny?” He asks, a cocky smirk on his face. He’s not even watching where his fingers are, playing with you with his eyes closed as if he’s been doing it for ages. “Like it when I play with your clit?” 

The temperature of your body spikes up at his words. You may not know how good you can feel but you’re pretty good at anatomy, yeah, even that anatomy, no matter how embarrassing you found it, but this surely wasn’t for scientific purposes so, of course, your skin burns up and your legs are about to close again. 

This time is Mark the one that stops you, sitting on the other side of the couch and keeping your leg still. 

“You didn’t answer,” Jaemin reminds you, voice lower and sterner. 

“Yeah, it feels good,” you breathe out. Your breath shakes when he teases your entrance, the tip of his fingers pushing just against the opening but without sliding in. 

“Oh, bunny. You must like me a lot,” he chuckles, collecting more wetness and spreading it on your thigh. 

Your eyes look for Haechan, trying to get if it’s a bad sign, if he’s mad because you’re enjoying somebody else’s touch so much, but he’s lost, eyes staring right into your core and on his friend’s finger, and you shouldn’t feel so pulled toward him but something in the way he’s looking at you, well, your pussy, makes you feel even hotter. 

By now you got where this is going, it’s about sex. That’s where all your problems are coming from. But you don’t know what to do. And you typically don’t like not having control over things. 

“I — I’ve never done this before,” you blabber out, making them laugh. 

“We know,” Jeno replies. “It’s pretty obvious, you know.” 

“Is it — is it bad?” 

“Bad?” Jaemin grins, starting to move his fingers faster. “That’s the funny part.” 

You look at him with confused, yet curious eyes, and he winks at you. 

“Want his fingers?” Haechan asks, nervously shaking his leg because this is dragging too long and he just wants to bury himself deep inside of you, he had waited long enough, and now he has to have you. 

“Like… inside?” You dare to ask and Mark laughs, “so, you know something about sex.” 

“I — I,” you stutter, but the words die in your brain. You heard your friends talk about it, it was something along the lines of ‘taking care of themselves,’ and ‘he’s so good I couldn’t walk for a day,’ but you never indulged in those kinds of talks. Sex just felt too dirty and wrong for you, so you always avoided it. But maybe now you would’ve found those talks useful, maybe if you sat and listened just one time, you would’ve taken care of this yourself instead of ending up here, spread open, dripping wet, in front of your boyfriend and his friends. Not that you mind, but you’re not really sure you can take whatever is about to come. 

“Dude, it’s a miracle she knows how to call what she has between her legs,” Jaemin retorts and you glare at him. 

“Hey! I know how to call it.” 

He smirks, quickening the pace on you, your lower lip getting trapped between your teeth to muffle the moans. 

“Say it,” he orders, looking straight into your eyes, they look oddly soft for the way he’s talking to you and moving his fingers on your sensitive bud. But that’s what’s pushing you to the limit again, his contrasts. 

Still, it’s hard to swallow and let the word slip out of your mouth, and when you do, when the word ‘pussy’ falls from your lips, you’d rather be swallowed by the floor. 

“Good girl,” Jaemin praises you and you have no idea of the effect those two words have on you until the same pleasure of before hits you unexpectedly. 

“And we’re down to two, she won’t last longer, you know,” Jeno says, looking at you with an amused expression, giggling at the way you’re so confused about what he’s talking about. “You came, baby,” he clears your doubt. “Just like before when you were grinding on him like your life depended on it. You had an orgasm.” 

“Ruining all the fun?” Jaemin huffs, glaring at him. 

The black-haired rolls his eyes. “She already had two, I’m not ruining anything.” 

“Can you stop?” Haechan stops them, getting up, towering over you. “I won’t let you come close to her if you keep bickering over bullshits.” 

You don’t say a word, but your body tingles seeing this side of your boyfriend. Haechan is one that knows what he wants but you’ve never seen him like this, so dominant, so in control. It’s hot, and it makes you wetter. 

Haechan would love to eat you out, he’s been dreaming about it since you first started dating, and your cunt glistening is basically inviting him, but he’s leaving that for later, maybe even to somebody else of them, knowing how disgusting his friends are, they wouldn’t flinch at going down on you with a mix of their cum dripping out of you. He has all his life with you to eat your pussy and leave you like a trembling mess, and even if you don’t know, he’s going to make sure to do that. 

“Want to help me with my pain, baby?” He asks and you frown. 

“You said you weren’t in pain?” 

“Oh, I’m not in pain when you’re paying attention to me, but you left me all hard and throbbing for you,” he pouts, shuffling with his pants and pushing them down his smooth, toned legs. Your eyes wander on them before something bigger catches your eyes. No, it’s not your first time seeing him, but the first time you barely paid attention to it and you’re more than sure it wasn’t that big. 

“You… you are in pain there?” You ask, briefly looking between his legs, pointing with a shy finger, before meeting his warm, brown eyes.

He nods, taking a step back. “Get on your knees,” he orders, and you follow with no hesitation. 

“Damn, she’s obedient,” Mark notices with a small smirk on his face and something about it makes your heart swell with pride. 

“Does it hurt because it’s hard?” 

Haechan smiles, caressing your cheek, fighting the urge to stuff your mouth full and turn you into a crying mess, but it’s hard when you’re looking at him like that, big eyes and a genuinely concerned pout on your lips. 

“Kinda,” he replies. “I’m so hard because of you. We are hard because of you.” You turn around, looking at them but they’re all completely dressed up and that hits you, you’re so exposed while they’re not, and… “This is the effect you have on us.” 

“Oh, that’s not good. Why do I bring you pain?” 

“You don’t bring us pain,” he chuckles, thumb caressing your lower lip, “not if you take care of it.” 

“Do you want to take care of us?” Jeno asks, making you look at him. 

You nod eagerly. “Yeah, yeah, I want to be good. Want to make you feel good just like Nana did with me.” 

Haechan smiles before moving closer to you, holding the base of his cock in his hands. “I’ll guide you, okay? If anything makes you uncomfortable just tap my thighs and I’ll stop.” 

You nod, anticipation bubbling into you. Fear long gone as this feels all new and exciting. And your competitiveness kicks in when you remind yourself that the others are watching. You want to be good. You want to make them want you even more. You want to prove to them you can be as good as them. 

“Touch it,” he says and your hand hesitantly moves to wrap around it, you follow his action and wrap around his base before he orders you to move up and down. It feels weird. It’s heavy and hard, so damn hard a small part of you is jumping with pride because you are the cause of that. 

You don’t know what comes over you but you lean in, tongue sticking out to lick his tip, dripping something salty and white. 

They gasp and you pull away immediately, taken aback. 

“Did I do something wrong?” Your eyes are apologetically looking at all of them as if you’re also doing something to them. 

“No, no,” Mark replies, voice clipped and face…red? 

“Are you alright?” 

“I’m good,” he cuts you off and you don’t focus on him when Haechan clears his throat and you turn to him. 

“Can you take it all in your mouth?” 

Your eyes widen. All of it? 

“Sure,” you reply, swallowing your fear, pretending that you know exactly what you’re doing but you don’t know a thing. You’re playing with fire and you don’t even fear you’re going to get burned. 

You knit your brows when he pushes into your open mouth, it’s heavy on your tongue and big, so big you don’t know how you’re going to take it all since he’s not even halfway in and you’re already gagging. Has your gag reflex always been so terrible? 

“Oh, poor baby,” you hear Jaemin’s voice come from beside you, you guess he’s standing next to you now, but you don’t move your eyes to check, trying to concentrate on the big cock your boyfriend was trying to make you take. “Is it too much for you?” 

It is. 

But you’re too proud to give it to him. So you shake your head, a terrible mistake that makes Haechan slip into you more and you gag on it. 

They all laugh and you look up at Donghyuck trying to look menacing but you only look funny like that, cute, his cute little baby always, but funny. 

“Maybe, Nana is right,” he says, caressing your cheek, finding it endearing how you’re still holding him in, ignoring the way some spit is already dripping out of the corner of your mouth. And he didn’t start moving yet. “Maybe you can’t take it.” 

You cough when he pulls out, spit trickling down your chin but the thought of wiping it off doesn’t even cross your mind. You want to prove a point, make them proud. 

“I can, I can take it,” you squeak, shifting on your knees, the hard floor starting to burn on your skin. “Please, give me another chance, I just need to get used to it,” you say before lowering your voice and eyes. “It’s big.” 

They’d like to tease you more at how shy you are, mocking you to repeat it, this time looking at his eyes and saying that word, but they all leave it as a thought. Because if it might not be too much for you — it is — but it’s definitely getting too much for them. 

None of them is known for being patient, maybe Jeno, when he’s in the right mood. But they all move like beasts, eager to get more, and fast, and this is taking way too long. It’s hot, but none of them is used to ease people into sex, nobody else they ever fucked with would take so much to jump on their cock and come out of there looking like a mess. But you on the other hand… 

“We’ll try one last time, baby,” Haechan coos, “but if you disappoint me, I’ll have to punish you. You don’t want it, right?” 

You shake your head. You have no idea what kind of punishment he’s talking about, but you don’t even want to find out. You will make him feel good. 

Haechan groans and throws his head back when you take all his length inside, trying to ignore the way the fat tip of his cock is pressing against the back of your throat, making you gag. You think that could turn him off, but apparently, the more you struggle, the happier he gets. And the same thing applies to the lewd sounds, you find them disgusting and embarrassing even, but the four men around you don’t feel the same. 

It’s hot seeing you put so much effort into something so lewd, innocently doing your best to make him feel good, staining your purity with squelching sounds, muffled moans and bobbing head. Your pretty pink camisole still covering your upper body, staining with spit and pre-cum dripping out your messy first blowjob. 

It’s not even the kind that Haechan loves the most, he might be eager but he’s rather neat — unlike somebody else — but he doesn’t care right now, he can’t, not even if usually, the feeling of so much drool spilling down his balls would make him cringe, right now it’s making him even harder. 

And after all, you will learn. 

They were all sure that by the end of the night they would’ve turned you into a completely different person. Addicted to their cocks and sex. 

And you are on the right road they want you to follow because as dirty as it feels, as much the piercing gaze of these men and their groans and dirty words makes you want to hide, they are once again igniting a spark inside of you. 

Your thighs clench and you knit your brows when you feel your clit throb and your pussy clench around nothing, an embarrassing amount of cum dripping out of you. How much do you like them? 

You think they don’t catch on it, too busy with the way your lips wrap around your boyfriend’s cock and your lashes flutter, looking up at him. 

But Mark sees the way you act. He has been studying you for a while, going crazy at the way you never realize how hot you are. He hates to admit it but he has fantasized about you a lot. You were rather physical with him because he seems so nice and sweet and, after all, he is Haechan’s best friend, so you never hesitated to be all over him when your boyfriend wasn’t around, hugging him longer than you did with others, even daring to kiss him on the cheeks when you greeted each other, and you weirdly loved his hands. 

So, he was going to give you a taste of it because he wanted to see your innocent façade fall apart. 

You almost choke more around Hyuck’s dick when you feel a hand between your legs and a body press against your back. 

“Hi, babe.” Mark’s voice hits your lobe and your ass press back against him, silently, and shamelessly, asking him to help you. “Are you in pain again?” 

You nod, try to, considering Haechan now has grabbed a fistful of your hair and is guiding you on his cock with more force. 

Mark only laughs, he doesn’t ask if you want his fingers, if you’re ready to take his fingers, eventually, you’ll have to get used to it, right? And your body seems more than ready anyway. And as expected, it’s not that hard to slip a finger inside you, your tight walls relaxing around him and welcoming in with ease even if it’s your first time. 

Your head falls back, pulling away from Haechan’s firm hold and spluttering when your mouth is finally empty again. 

“Fuck,” Jaemin moans, and then brings one hand on your face, you expect him to wipe the mess away, but instead he smears it around your face, making you gasp and blink in surprise. “What, bunny?” He snickers, a mocking smirk on his lips. “You look so pretty like this, like a painting.” 

You can’t see yourself, so you seek reassurance from your boyfriend that is looking at you with a tender — wicked — smile. “He’s right, you’re so pretty like this.” 

You don’t reply, a bit because you can do nothing but accept it and a bit because when Mark pushes a second finger inside, it feels too much. 

“Mark, oh… wow,” you whimper, head falling to stare between your legs how his hand is pressing against your clit and his wrist is moving to guide the movements inside of you.  

“Oh, wow?” Jeno chuckles, mocking you. “Do you ever swear?” 

You stammer, head snapping at him in surprise. He scares you because you can’t read him. He had barely touched you or teased you and you don’t know what to expect, he seems sweet, but is he? Are they? You don’t have time to dwell on them or their kindness because Haechan grabs your hair again, tugging at it harshly enough to make you groan in pain. 

You look at him asking for an explanation, but he just pushes his cock inside your mouth. He doesn’t have the patience to teach you with words anymore, he will throw you straight into the practice ground, hoping you will make it out alive. 

“I told you I don’t want to be disappointed,” he groans, hips moving with a steady, fast rhythm, now truly not caring if you can take it or not. “You were doing so good, baby, keep taking my cock. Show me how much love me. You love me, right?” 

You hum around him and you get that it must feel good because his eyes squeeze shut and his fingers tighten around your hair. So you do it again, this time not to answer him, but you guess the sounds coming out of your lips are caused by Mark’s fingers inside you. 

Your eyes snap in panic toward Jaemin when you see him pick up his phone and as soon as Haechan frees your mouth you ask, “What — what are you doing?” 

“Filming you,” he smiles. A sweet, toothy smile that hides the grin in his eyes and the way the sight of you, teary eyes, ruined mascara starting to pool under your eyes, spit streaked chin and cheeks as the saliva dries on your beautiful skin, is making his cock rock hard.  

“But — but why?” 

“Because you need to learn, remember?” Surely, not because he was going to watch this over and over again and imagine you were kneeling between his legs letting him facefuck you. He would never do that. “You can watch this over and over again and get better with time.” 

“Oh,” you whisper. That makes sense. “But no one else will see this, right?” 

Jaemin shakes his head, caressing your cheeks, and laughing when your eyelids fall close at the gentle touch and a sweet whimper rolls out of your lips. “No one, bunny.” 

Your eyes look for Haechan’s consent again and when he smiles at you, your lips fall open again. When he starts moving inside you again it feels more comfortable than before, slowly getting used to the intrusion and his strength, and surely Mark’s fingers inside you are making the whole thing more enjoyable too.

More moans vibrate around his length as the two digits inside you curl and brush against a spot that makes your toes curl and your breath shorten. You don’t know what Mark is doing, but he’s so good at it because you know you never felt like this before. 

You want to warn them that you feel the same sensation build up in your stomach again, but you can’t, Haechan has no intention to pull out of you when he’s so close, and the orgasm hits so good, you wouldn’t say a thing even if your mouth was free. 

You think Haechan is going to let go of you but instead, he pushes deeper into your mouth, making you gasp for air through your nose, pressing your face so far that your nose nuzzles against the fuzzy layer of hair over his cock, and you almost choke when something warm and salty fills your throat. When he lets go of you, you gasp and are about to spit it on the floor when your boyfriend grabs your head and pulls you back by your hair. 

“Swallow it,” his voice is unexpectedly deep and stern and it’s enough to make you obey him with no hesitation, no matter how wrong and dirty it all feels. “Good girl.” You don’t know what’s kicking in your brain but the way he’s demanding and then sweet as he praises you, it’s making your head spin and want more. 

“What — what is — what was that?” You ask, squeezing your eyes, blinking some tears away. 

Haechan grins, kneeling at your level to kiss you. It’s soft, like the usual kiss he gives you when you cuddle in your bedroom, and it feels… romantic. As if there aren’t three hungry gazes staring into you, imagining the worst things to do to you. 

“That’s my cum, baby. Just like the one that is dripping out of you now.” 

Your eyes wander away from his, too shy and conscious about the mess between your legs. 

“It’s… it’s because you like me a lot?” 

He nods, “And because you’ve been such a good girl sucking my cock.” 

The vulgar words hit your core, and you expect to shy away but somehow, they make your pussy clench around nothing again. 

Is your body seeking more? Are they going to give it to you? 

“My knees burn,” you whisper, expecting Haechan to do something but you jolt in surprise when Jeno walks toward you and lifts you up. 

“Should we finish this in the bedroom?” He’s holding you in his arms, roughly hoisting you on his shoulder as if you are a ragdoll but he’s talking to Haechan. You get flustered because your ass is literally next to his face and you flinch when he bites down on the soft, plump skin. 

“No, the bedroom, no,” you cry. And they quirk a brow, looking between you and Haechan. 

“Bedroom,” your boyfriend orders and Jeno swiftly walks toward the room. 

“Jeno, no,” you cry uselessly, and when he opens the door, you want to die. 

“Oh,” he whispers, smirking when he eyes the bed. 

“So that’s what you didn’t want us to see?” This time is Jaemin mocking you, you get it by now that he looks sweet and gentle but under that façade hides a monster. 

“Your teddy bear?” Mark asks amused, staring at the toy laying in the middle of the bed, between crumpled-up sheets. You really tried to make it go away alone, didn’t you? 

“It hurt too much, I didn’t know what to do.” You confess even if they weren’t thinking at that, except Mark, of course. So they are even more surprised when they see a patch of the teddy bear slightly stained with your cum. 

“Oh, poor baby,” Jeno coos, laying you on the bed with no care at all. “Your pussy was begging for so much attention you just had to fuck yourself on your plushie.” 

Now that was too dirty for you to take. You had no idea you were doing that, it was just your habit to hug the toy with your legs and when you felt that the friction felt good your body started moving alone. 

“I didn’t know,” you defend. 

Jeno snickers, “I’m starting to think you’re playing a character. Maybe you’re not as innocent as you want to make us believe.” 

“No — no, I swear, I wouldn’t, I wouldn’t have done that if I knew it was bad.” 

“It’s not bad,” Mark chimes in. “It’s never bad if it makes you feel good.” 

You’d argue with that, if it was another occasion, if you weren’t spread open with Jeno between your legs, fingers playing again with your sensitive clit, and teasing your glistening entrance. 

“Stop teasing me,” you whine, starting to hate how his fingertips are only brushing over your sensitive skin and not bringing you any pleasure. 

“Damn, already addicted to it?” Haechan mocks you and you don’t expect that comment to come from him. He had been nothing but nice with you tonight, apart from when he was shoving his cock into your mouth. 

“It feels good,” you mumble, hiding your face with your hands but Jaemin groans and pulls your hands apart. 

“I think we should keep these busy,” he says before winking at Mark. Your eyes widen when they both get rid of their clothes, cocks springing free, hard and thick, smeared with pre-cum at the tip. You can’t even look away because you are too amazed by them, and your gaze keeps bouncing back and forth between the man at the end of the bed and the one on your left. 

You only lift your gaze when Mark climbs on the bed and kneels next to your face, well, until then, because when his cock hovers over you, you can only keep your eyes there. 

“Hey, you look at theirs with more love than you looked at mine,” Haechan scolds, now sitting next to Jeno that is still teasing your dripping cunt.  

You apologize feebly, wanting to tell him that you were too shocked by his before to have a positive reaction to it. 

“Are you going to punish me?” 

Haechan snorts but shakes his head. “I’m going to make you feel good. Show you how good my cock will make you feel.” 

“My mouth again?” 

“No, baby,” he smiles. “Here.” 

Your eyes widen when his hand palms your cunt, Jeno is sitting next to him, giving him space to fit perfectly between your bent open legs. 

“Inside?” It comes out as dry as your throat while your brain tries to think how it could fit in you. 

He clicks his tongue, “Where else?” 

“But it’s… it’s never going to fit.” You say when he starts rubbing his cockhead against your folds, collecting the wetness. 

“I promise you it will fit,” he reassures you, wrapping the hand that isn’t around the base of his cock on your hip and caressing gently, a sharp contrast to the way he’s looking at you, hungry like a hunter that just got his prey after running after it for days. He’s drooling over you and he’s not sure he can promise you he’ll be gentle. 

“Are — are you sure it will feel good?” 

“Best you’ve ever felt,” he replies. “I promise, I’d never hurt you, you know.” 

You gulp, looking at how big he is and then your tummy, thinking that it’s impossible for all that to slip into you and feel good. And then you meet his eyes, he’s looking at you in a way he never did and you can’t tell if it’s a good or bad thing. 

“Just the tip,” he whispers, looking into your eyes before he brings them back where your bodies are touching and sinks into you, pussy fluttering around his thick tip and already squeezing tight. 

Your head rolls back and your jaw clenches as a gritted moan ripples through your throat. It’s nothing like Mark’s fingers. The stretch is triple it and even if it doesn’t hurt it still feels too much to take. You surely aren’t sure you could deal with it. 

You’re about to protest, moving a hand between your bodies to stop him but he sinks into you without a warning, and the high, broken moan you let out shouldn’t turn him —them— on so much, but it does. 

You only mumble senseless things, hiding your face between the pillow and Jaemin’s thigh, and they all wonder what will draw a curse out of your pretty, pure lips. 

“Big,” you cry, as if saying it out loud will change the fact his cock is stretching you wide and reaching parts you didn’t even know you had until two seconds ago. 

“You can take it,” Haechan reassures you, cooing against your ear as he leans in to kiss you softly. “I’ll take it slow, okay?” He has to try, he knows the others won’t take it easy on you, and he has to wreck you but not too much to the point you can’t take it anymore. He’s already scared you can barely take this, he wonders how you will go through more. 

But it’s easier said than done and the slow pace of long and intense thrusts only lasts what it lasts. 

“Hyuck,” your voice breaks, and tears start to form in your eyes when he picks up a rhythm you can’t keep up with, not that you’re doing anything, just laying there, half-naked, and looking over at the three men hovering you with lidded eyes. 

You think you’re pitying them but completely different thoughts are running through their minds. Jaemin and Mark especially are having a ball seeing you like this, helpless and yet needy for more. You’re falling apart slowly, lips moving without emitting a sound as not even you know if you want him to stop or if you want more. 

You’re so lost in the pleasure and thelittle discomfort that you forget for a moment Jeno is there too, and when his hand touches your thigh, you jump in surprise. 

“It’s just me, angel,” he hums, smiling at you, and you nod, biting your lips to muffle the moans. 

“Don’t do that,” Jaemin scolds you, slapping his cock against your lips to make you let go of them. “You will bleed.” He’s messing with you, playing you like a violin, fucking up with your brain more than he’s doing with your body. And yet, you fall for it, freeing your lower lip, not holding back anymore. 

“Hyuck,” you cry again when he lifts your hips and slides deeper into you, “I can’t.” 

“You can,” he groans back, holding your hips with more force and you’re sure your body will remind you of that hold for days. “You are taking me. Look at how good — fuck — you feel. Dripping, tight pussy sucking me in.” 

Your mouth opens to complain, or to let out a moan, you’re not even sure anymore, but Jaemin shushes you. When the tip of his cock slaps your cheek you’re startled, meeting his gaze in surprise. 

“Gimme your hand, bunny,” he purrs. And you don’t know why you find that petname so hot coming out of his lips, probably it’s the way he says it, the way his lips curl when he places it at the end of a sentence, so sweetly and yet with the intention of breaking you. You don’t know it, you can’t know it, but it’s like you sense it, and you can’t wait to see what he has in store for you. 

So, you obediently give him his hand, soft fingers wrapping around yours before he brings your hand on his dick. 

“See how hard I am for you? How much I like you?” 

You nod, licking your lips, feeling your throat get dryer because Haechan is still fucking into you, pounding deep and hard and no, it doesn’t feel bad, but it’s too intense and you don’t know how to deal with so much pleasure. You feel like it’s getting to your head, like all your sanity is slowly being dragged out of you, your hold on control is growing thin and you don’t know what to do. You should panic, some sort of self-defense should tell you to run, but you don’t want to. You want to see how far this can go, how much more you can feel. Finally liberated to being pushed into a world you’ve been ignoring for so long, too long. 

“Yeah?” He asks, a cocky smirk on his face. “You love this, don’t you? Knowing we’re so hard just from watching you.” He starts moving your hands on him and when Mark does the same after grabbing your other hand, you turn to him. His eyebrows are knitted in concentration, and he’s lost looking at your pretty, manicured hand and how it looks so beautiful on his hard girth. And he wonders how you can be so delicate and pure even now. 

“You’re so pretty,” Mark whispers when he meets your glossy eyes. And you’d like to let yourself get lost in the compliment but with your boyfriend fucking you feverishly, slamming into you after pulling all the way out, creating disgusting, lewd sounds, you can’t think of anything else. 

“So fucking good for me,” Haechan moans, throwing his head back and biting his lips, and through wet lashes, you can’t help but feel happy because you are making him feel this good. He looks even more beautiful than usual, almost as if he has a different glow radiating from him, and you like to think it’s because of you. 

And probably that thought makes you convulse more under him as you come again, squeezing him tight, the movements on Jaemin and Mark’s cock, coming to a stop as the pleasure overtakes you. 

“Don’t fucking stop,” Jaemin grunts, slapping your cheek with his cock again. “Come on, be good and make us feel good. You’re not selfish, right?” 

You shake your head, mind hazed by the pleasure that dims but doesn’t seem to stop. 

“Good, be a good little play doll and make us feel good.” 

“Open up,” Mark says, pushing his cock to your mouth. You think he’s going to do the same thing your boyfriend did before but you’re surprised when he only teases your mouth with his tip, and you’re even more surprised when Jaemin turns you around and does the same. They keep teasing you like this, and without them telling you, you eagerly start to suck on them, sucking more of their length in, cheeks hollowing as you shily try to do more to make them happy. 

So you set your own pace, turning side to side with a pretty decent rhythm to suck Mark first and then pass on Jaemin. Blowing them with more strength every time that you hear their groans and moans grow bigger, you find that so exciting, and you think it’s a shame you can’t see their faces contorted in pleasure but sucking on them —united to your boyfriend’s cock — makes your eyes fall close in bliss. 

And Haechan loses it completely, he pushes your legs up, pressing them against your chest, your eyes snapping open in surprise and because you can feel him even more. 

“Hyuck, no,” you wail, tears dripping down your temples, drying in your hair. 

“Shut up,” he retorts, leaning in, making his friends pull away, kissing you harshly, not caring that his friends’ cocks are so close to his face and were into your mouth just a few seconds ago. He needs you. “You feel so fucking good, babe. You’re making me so — fuck — so happy.” 

You smile when he pulls away but once again Mark and Jaemin are on you. 

You once again think he’s in pain, you think all of them are in pain, when your eyes shoot open and they have a frown on their faces. 

“Close your eyes,” Jaemin whispers through gritted teeth, you don’t get why but you obey and you’re lucky for that because you feel hot liquid spurts on your face and chest and you gasp in surprise. 

That’s the last thing it takes for Haechan to make him come. It’s fucking wrong but fuck, if you’re hot covered in cum, moaning as he stimulates you, chest falling and rising swiftly and nails digging into the sheets. 

“Hyuck,” you cry when the warmth fills you up, coating you in white. 

“Fuck, babe,” he groans, leaning down to kiss you. “So good.” 

You feel a thumb clean something off your face, well, only off your eyes because you can feel the rest of it stick on your cheeks, lips, neck and probably even forehead. 

When you open them again they’re smiling at you, as if what just happened is the most normal thing in the world. But you’re not any different from them. You feel thrilled. You need more. 

“More,” you plead and their eyes sparkle up. 

“Move.” You don’t expect Jeno to yank your boyfriend away and come between your legs. 

“Hey,” Haechan warns, glaring at his friend. “She’s mine.” 

“Don’t share her if you want her all to yourself,” he retorts before sinking down and cleaning your face from his friends’ cum. You were fucking hot like that he wasn’t going to lick any of it off of you. You eagerly kiss him back when his lips meet yours, but it doesn’t last long, he has other plans and he wants to make them happen as soon as possible. You are a fucking dream, but you’ve not come true, yet, and patience is not a gift God gave him. 

“Jeno,” you yelp when he rips your camisole off of you. 

“Not my fault they weren’t eager to see your boobs,” he smirks, throwing the ripped fabric behind him. “Fuck, they’re perfect,” he mumbles, staring at your chest, fondling the skin, and then sucking on your nipples. 

You don’t expect to be that sensitive there, but you are and the way his lips wrap around your bud and suck on it with passion makes your head spin. It feels so good that you don’t even realize you start grinding against him. 

He grins against your skin. “Turned you into a needy mess already?” 

Your eyes shy away and realize that neither Mark nor Jaemin are at your side anymore. But you don’t have time to see what they’re doing because Jeno’s lips are around you again while his fingers tease the other nipple and your brain shuts again. 

Jeno’d love to make you come like this, he’s more than sure he could make you come like this. But he’s not so sure about your stamina and he doesn’t want to risk it. If he doesn’t get into you now he will go insane. 

“Need you.” But it’s you the one that whimpers those words, catching him — them — by surprise. “Jeno, please.” 

“Please what, angel?” He teases, he will drag nasty words out of your pretty lips. 

Normally you would’ve stuttered and begged him to just get what you wanted but right now you’re desperate, his lips and fingers on you, the warmth of your boyfriend’s seed inside, Jeno’s hard cock grinding against your sensitive, hard clit. 

“Please, fuck me.”

Their eyes stare at you in surprise and amusement, shocked and entertained that your shell is coming off, slowly, but all those walls are crashing down. 

He groans and kisses you roughly again, you noticed that even if he’s rough, he’s not messy, and he likes to bite, a lot. On your lower lip, on your neck, and on the soft flesh of your boobs. But you find out you like it. 

“Where are you going?” You panic when he rolls to the side. 

He chuckles, “I’m not leaving you, don’t worry,” his tone is tender but there’s a hint of a mock in it. “Come here,” he pats his lap when he sits on the bed, kicking the teddy bear with his feet to have more space.

“Hey! Mister Teddy,” you complain, crawling on wobbly legs to fix the stuffed toy at the edge of the bed, hoping it could be safe from whatever will keep happening from then on. 

“Mister Teddy?” He asks, lifting a brow. “Thought you were more creative.” 

“I was ten when I got it,” you reply, plopping on the mattress next to it. 

“Damn, he’s really living all your first adventures,” Jaemin laughs, looking at the toy briefly and not catching your glare. 

“Come here,” Jeno calls you again, spreading his legs more, giving you space to kneel between them. 

“I’m leaking,” you whisper, feeling discomfort when cum starts dripping out of you due to the position; hands and knees, ass perched up as you crawl to him. 

“Don’t worry, I’m going to stuff you again.” The way he’s so vulgar about it makes your stomach twist in anticipation. You find something so hot about the contrast between you and them, even your boyfriend and Jaemin whom you always imagined were the calmest and most similar to you. It’s clear that this is completely different from the everyday world. 

“Why are you still covered?” You ask timidly, kneeling between his open legs, but not dragging your eyes on his crotch, for some reason he makes you shy. You truly don’t know what to expect from him, one second he looks like he’s indifferent and one later it’s like he wants to eat you alive. 

“Wanted you to unpack the gift,” he jokes, pointing at his black boxers and then at you with a nod of the head.

You lean closer to him, ass perching up, making the three men behind you groan, and you note for the first time that they sound so animalistic, like starved hunters that are just sweet enough to wait for you, their prey, to offer yourself to them. But you leave them in the back of your mind, delicate, manicured fingers, hooking in the bands of his underwear, pulling it down with the help of his hips lifting from the mattress. 

If you were in a cartoon your jaw would be on the floor, and your eyes would be big, coming out of your skull, but you’re in the real world, and no animation can help you take what Jeno has between his legs. 

You gulp, looking at him, finding an amused grin on his face. Oh, he loves that. But you love a challenge, and Haechan wasn’t that much smaller than him so if you took your boyfriend, you could take him, right? Either way, you didn’t care much how impossible that felt. You needed more. And you just seemed addicted to the feelings that sex brought along, throwing yourself into something you weren’t ready for. 

“Do I suck you?” 

“Honey,” he snorts, “I need more than your mouth.” 

“But shouldn’t I lay? How are you going to fuck me like that?” 

They totally weren’t used to hearing those words slip out of your mouth, and it was absurd how normal, clean, and innocent they still sounded coming from you. You were an angel sent on earth, there was no other explanation they could give themselves. 

After the first shock, he shakes his head and signals you to crawl closer. “Come close, I don’t bite.” 

You snicker because he bites very much but you do as he ordered. 

“I want you to ride me.” 

You tilt your head to the side, looking at him with a cute, confused expression and he has to take a deep breath not to flip you over and piston into you until you’re nothing but a moaning mess. 

“Slide down on my cock and I’ll guide you for the rest.” He tells you instead, somehow gaining some composure back to hide how desperate he is to have you. 

You hum hesitantly, he holds his cock up for you, and you slowly sink on it. 

“Fuck,” you curse when he’s halfway in, already feeling like he’s splitting you in two, and you are soaking wet and have already been stretched by Haechan before. “You’re too much.” 

“I’m in, angel,” he reassures you through gritted teeth because you are tight and warm, and he feels like a teenage boy about to come just by that. It’s pathetic almost, as if this is his first pussy and his body doesn’t know how to react. “Just bottom out, I promise it will feel good.” 

You trust him, and so, sinking your nails into his shoulders, you reach the base. You decide to also blame it on the position but fuck, if he’s deep into you. 

“Was I good?” You are eager for validation and everybody in the room takes note of that. Haechan already knows it, it’s a thing you have even on non-sexual occasions, but it’s nice to know you crave that even in bed. And the others two can’t wait to use it against you. 

“So good, angel,” he praises you. “Now, move on my cock.”

You hesitate, trying to get what he wants. Feeling time pass by, sensation highlighted by the gazes that are burning your back. Somehow the fact that they are not all over you but patiently waiting and staring at your every move makes you a bit more anxious. “I don’t know how to do it,” you whine in a broken confession, voice cutting because he’s not moving and he’s already fucking with your brain. 

“But you want to be a good girl, don’t you? Want to learn? You’re such a good learner, always been a good, eager student, I’m sure you can be a good student even now.” 

You nod, squeezing your eyes, hoping to unfog your brain and focus on what you have to do. Not only you don’t know how to do what he wants but your brain is far gone. 

“You are big, though,” you weep. “You fill me — fill me so well.” 

Jeno’s nails sink into your skin when your wet insides clench around him. You’re not controlling your body and yet you’re driving him insane. 

“I promise,” he huffs, throwing his head back, shaking his black hair out of his face, and then looking at you, “promise it will feel even better if you start moving. Remember what you did before?” 

“When?” 

“On poor Mr Teddy and Haechan.” 

Your body sparks in flames of shame when he reminds you that, feeling guilty for having done something so dirty with your precious teddy bear and with your boyfriend in front of his friends. But once again, the needs you need to satisfy are making your body go in a different direction. 

So you start grinding your hips back and forth, moaning lowly every time your clit rubs against his pubes. 

“Fuck,” he moans, biting his lips. “Just like that, angel. Keep moving.” 

You whimper when his hands wrap around your waist and Jeno starts fucking you on him, he starts slowly but then his slams get harsher. It takes a while to get what he wants, but you try to follow him as he guides you. 

And soon you start to try different patterns, circling your hips, lifting your body up and down, just grinding, and trying to press in your brain what makes the both of you feel better. When you finally find it, and Jeno leaves you more freedom of movement, you feel on cloud nine. 

“Fuck,” somebody moans behind you, loud enough to remind you that you and Jeno are not alone in the room. “Look at how good you are at this.” Only when more words leave his mouth, you realize it’s Jaemin. 

“Do — do you like me like this?” You ask in a whimper, throwing your head back, the image of the three men pumping their aching boners appearing upside down in your eyes. 

Mark would say that he loves you like this, but keeps it to himself, afraid of crossing lines that are not meant to be crossed. 

“Don’t you see how hard we are for you?” Your boyfriend replies instead. “This is what you do to us.” 

You smile, head moving to fall against Jeno’s forehead, happy with the answer you received. 

“And you?” You groan. “Do you — do you like me?” 

He groans, nose twitching as his face contorts in a frown. “Are you kidding? Don’t you feel how much I like you? Do I — shit — have to prove it more?” 

“Yeah.” Your voice comes out in a whimper, his arms wrap around your frame and he helps you with your thrusts, and then he bites on your lower lip, pulling roughly before he lets go of your soft lips. “Pro—prove me how much you love me.” 

Jeno starts sucking on your nipples. It’s loud and wet, and gets your cunt dripping around him so hard that another orgasm rips out of you before you can do anything. 

“Horny, dumb, baby,” he mocks, slapping your ass cheek, grinning against your boob when you clench down on him at the impact. “Love the pain, don’t you? Love when I hit you,” another loud smack follows. “Love when I bite you,” his teeth sink into the soft flesh of your breast. “Do you love when I pinch?” He asks, twisting your other nipple in his hand, your toes curling and your stomach closing in a knot again. 

“Yes, love it so much, Jeno, please.”  

“Good, keep being a good girl for me, shit,” he groans. “And take all I give to you. All the pain and all the pleasure.” 

You think he has an addiction to your boobs because he never lets go of them, lips and fingers torturing them, causing more shivers to run down your spine. But you don’t mind, it feels so good that your brain starts slipping down a treacherous path where you have no control anymore. 

And he thinks that too. He might be addicted to you, actually. Because as you bounce up on him, pussy sucking him with eagerness and dripping down his balls, boobs bouncing up and down, he gets lost in your face for a second. Long lashes falling shut on your cheeks, streaked with a messed-up mix of spit, cum, tears and mascara. Swollen soft lips parted in search of air, letting out the prettiest, softest, and most sinful sounds he ever heard. He can only think one thing. 

Haechan is a lucky bastard. 

But he’s not. So he better make the best out of this situation and fuck you more, maybe even make you miss his cock so when Haechan will fuck you again and it won’t feel as good as this you will think of him, how good he made you feel. 

And in the depth of yourself you too wonder if anything else will make you feel this good because you didn’t feel like this before, brain dizzy and barely feeling your body, like you were watching from the outside and yet feeling every sensation. 

“Gonna fill you up,” he moans, face buried in the crook of your neck, groaning when he sniffs you and even if you’re sweating, he can scent the delicate perfume you applied on yourself, so sweet and intoxicating mixing with your natural scent, driving him insane. 

Haechan is a lucky bastard. 

“Gonna give you all of my cum — fuck — fill you ‘til you’re dripping,” he groans, biting on your skin, making you throw your head back. 

He’s about to ask you to beg for it, to push you even more, but once again the words come out of your mouth on your own.

“Give me all,” your voice breaks. “Give me all your cum, please. I want it, want it so much.” 

They broke you. 

That’s Jeno’s last straw, hips stuttering against you harshly, fucking you messily, moaning louder as you come too and your pussy clenches around him more. 

“Fuck,” he groans when your bodies stop convulsing against one another. “You’re so fucking good at this, so perfect.” 

You whine when he rolls you over, and then slips out of you, leaving you empty, gaping, and leaking. It’s humiliating being so exposed, or you’re sure that’s how you should feel, but your brain only screams ‘more.’ 

You don’t have the strength to say it, throat dry and eyes too heavy to even stay open. You blank out for a moment and when you open your eyes again you find Haechan staring at you. 

“You good?” 

You beam at him, a new glow spreading around you, and he smiles back before he leans in to kiss you. You feel hands on your lower body, but you let yourself get lost in this tender moment with your boyfriend. It doesn’t last much though because Jaemin has other plans. 

“You’re so filthy, bunny,” he mocks as he pumps two fingers inside your sensitive cunt, pumping the cum in and then out, grinning dumbly at the lewd image in front of his eyes. Loving how easily your destroyed hole lets three of his fingers in. 

You think he’s weird not because of what he’s doing but the way he acts about it, the way he’s been acting about it all night, but that still doesn’t make you find him unattractive or not hot. Probably it makes you underestimate him. 

“Come here,” Mark calls, and you frown when he lays on the bed next to you. 

“But… I’m tired,” you whine, legs shaking with a shiver since Jaemin is still rubbing his fingers against your walls. 

“Oh, already?” He teases you with a fake-kind pout on his face. You flinch when Jaemin pulls out and smacks your pussy hard, sending electric shocks through your body. 

“Spoiled brat,” he hisses, pinching your thigh. 

“Want us to help but won’t do anything to help us,” Mark complains, giving you a daring glare you don’t really understand. 

You don’t expect Mark to drag you on top of him, making you sit on his abs with little to no care, your muscles screaming in pain. “Princess wants us to do all the job for her.” He eases you up and makes you fall back onto his cock, a loud groan coming out of your lips because he keeps catching you unprepared. And because it seems that no matter how much you get stretched, your cunt still can’t get used to it. And you find out you love-hate this position. 

“Is this how Haechannie treats you?” Your boyfriend sneers at the nickname, plopping on the bed next to you, staring at your fucked out face with an amused grin. He never imagined he would enjoy so much seeing your friends throwing you around. 

“Pampers you.” Mark thrust up into you, leaving you breathless. “Touching you gently.” Another one. “Afraid you may break.” And another, even harder, knocking the air out of your lungs. 

You hum, tears threatening to spill out of your eyes again, palms of your hands falling flat on his chest, feeling his muscles flex every time he lifts your ass up and down on him. Mark’s moving you so easily you should be afraid but your body tingles in excitement and your brain shuts down again. 

“What a surprise you love being treated like this,” he mocks, spanking your ass, chuckling when your cunt clenches around him. “Does it feel good? My big hand against your soft, delicate skin, princess?” 

You whine. The sweet pet name somehow makes you feel like he’s mocking you even more. 

“Answer me,” he groans, cupping your chin, forcing you to look at him while his other hand sends another loud spank on your other ass cheek. 

“Yeah, yeah,” your voice is broken by sobs, salty drops following down swiftly, hitting his skin, too. 

“For how long you planned on keeping it a secret from me?” Haechan asks, kneeling next to Mark and grabbing you by the hair so he can lift you up, pulling you away from his friend’s body. “Had to put on a show in front of my friend so I would snap and let them fuck you and ruin you, uh?” 

“No — no, I — I swear, I didn’t know.” 

“Didn’t know?” His usual cocky smirk creeps on your boyfriend’s face as his hold in your hair gets stronger and drags an unexpected moan out of your lips. And he thinks that he’s going to have so much fun turning you into an even needier, kinkier mess from now on.

You shake your head, silently telling him with your eyes that you were honest before, that you never imagined that pain could lead to this pleasure. 

“Come on, leave her alone. Don’t you see that she means it? She’s just such a good doll that learns so easily what we want from her. Aren’t you?” Jeno reaches you too, coming to the other side, turning your face to stare at him. 

“I’m — I’m not a doll,” you cry, but in reality, you don’t mind being called that. You love dolls. They are pretty. And if they think you are one, you don’t care. It just feels a bit weird to be called one in this context. 

“But you’re so pretty and love to play with us,” he pouts, kissing you slowly, cupping your ass harshly before he smacks you again. “You love playing with us, don’t you?” 

You nod, falling backward when Mark hits a spot into you that makes your toes curl, and luckily you fall into Jaemin’s strong chest and arms. 

“Careful, baby. Dolls can break.” You can hear his evil smirk but it still doesn’t prepare you for what he’s about to do to you. 

The scream you let out dies in your throat when you feel him tease your rim. 

“Damn, honey, I didn’t even push in,” he laughs at your reaction, feeling your body tense. 

“I — I, what are you doing?” You turn your head around when he rests his chin on your shoulder and he’s smiling at you. Fucking evil. 

“Filling your pretty ass,” Jaemin replies nonchalantly, batting his lashes at you.  

“That’s… that’s…” 

“Nasty?” He finishes for you and you nod, biting your lips because Mark is fucking up into you faster and Jeno and Haechan are sucking your nipples and you feel like you’re about to explode. 

“But we are nasty,” he grins. If your brain was still with you, you would’ve told him that he is nasty, but you’re too far gone to bicker with him now. 

But you still feel that that place is wrong. 

“I don’t, I don’t think…” you bite your lips, eyes squeezing as you try to let out words that make sense. “Nothing should go there.” 

“You think Nana would put something there if it shouldn’t? You think Nana would ever hurt you or do something you won’t like?” 

You think about it, or pretend to think about it, because at this point your brain has no intention of collaborating, and also you really don’t know. It’s a gut feeling, telling you that what’s about to happen is even dirtier than everything else that already happened but you have no idea about it. So you trust him, even if no, you don’t know if he would ever do something to hurt you, because you thought he was nice and he’s surprising you more and more. 

When you shake your head and arch your ass back against him, Jaemin smirks and winks at Haechan that is looking at the two of you with an amused smile on his face. 

“Too good,” you whimper instead, not even worrying anymore that his wet finger — covered in lube or cum, or both, you’re not really sure about it — is prodding at your entrance and pushing in. 

“Jae —” his name doesn’t come out of your mouth because everything that is happening to you is getting to your head. 

“Shh, bunny,” he purrs against your earlobe, kissing it before moving to leave wet kisses on your neck. Why the hell is he so messy? “It won’t hurt you. I’ll prep you well to take my cock.” 

“Your — your cock?” 

“Yes, bunny, you’ve been so good, you deserve it.” 

“I deserve it,” you repeat mindlessly, letting your body relax in his hold, strong arm wrapped around your waist, following the way Mark is moving you on him. 

“Shit,” Mark moans, you’re squeezing him in every time that Jaemin adds another finger. “It feels good, doesn’t it?” 

“Yeah,” you reply, shocked that Jaemin’s fingers are not hurting you at all, not even when you have Mark pressing into you from the front. 

“Nasty princess,” Jeno groans, biting down on the soft, smooth skin of your breast, making you hiss. “Look at how much you’re enjoying this. Are you grateful for this?” 

You nod, meeting his eyes, filled with lust. 

“You are? Why don’t you thank us?” He teases, starting to rub your clit, flicking it fast enough to make you clench even more around Mark. “Come on, say thank you.” 

“I… nghh,” you cry out. 

“No, baby. Thank you. It’s easy, even a dumb, nasty princess like you could do it. You just have to repeat. Or are you so cock drunk you can’t even thank us for what we’re giving you? We’re taking care of you, aren’t we?” 

You nod enthusiastically but still no words slip out of you. 

“We took away your pain,” he grunts, cupping your chin and kissing you harshly, letting his tongue play inside your mouth. “You begged for us to help you and we did. Say thank you.” 

You groan when you feel all of them move faster on a different part of your body, testing your brain to come up with two simple words. “Tha-thank you,” you breathe out, hand searching for your boyfriend’s hand and holding it tight when he locks his fingers with yours as his mouth keeps moving on your breast. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” you chant sounding more like a plead for more. 

“Good girl,” Jeno praises, biting your lower lip again before he kisses you roughly. 

“If she was good she would fuck herself on me,” Mark growls and your glossy eyes fall on him. You are letting him do all the job and you can’t promise him you have the strength to help. 

“I’m — I’m sorry,” you reply, hoping he can forgive you. 

“Then start fucking yourself on me, if you’re really sorry,” he orders and he stops moving, leaving you to complain at the loss of pleasure. 

You knit your brows, trying to find support on the other three men around you that are still stimulating you, and your hips start moving. You replicate what you did before with Jeno but now you find it even harder. Your body aches in pain and trembles in pleasure. And it’s all getting to your head. But somehow you manage to move, it’s like your body is moving on its own, it’s like it has already learned all the tricks they have been teaching you all night. 

“See, you can do it if you don’t act like a spoiled, lazy brat,” Mark praises, throwing his head back. 

When you feel something big and fat press against your rim, your eyes snap open and Mark’s comments slip into the back of your brain. 

“Jaemin what are — what are you doing?” You cry out, voice choking in your throat.

“I told you,” he says, pushing you down, closer to the man underneath you, biting his lips as he watches your ass bounce back and forth on Mark. “Fucking your pretty ass.”

You totally underestimated Jaemin. 

“Fuck,” you scream when he slams inside you completely and starts fucking you right away. Your body collapses on Mark and you hear him chuckle deeply against your ear. 

“Nana,” you cry out, biting down on Mark’s shoulder, making him hiss, more in surprise than pain. He told you he was going to fuck you there, but you thought he was going to do it after, not with Mark inside you. 

“Fuck, bunny, you’re made for this,” he mumbles through gritted teeth as his hands wrap around your waist and fucks deep into your other hole. 

“Mark,” you whimper, tears flooding down your face like a river in full. It’s not painful like you expected it to be, it sets your body on fire, bliss running in your veins along with your blood, and before you can even notice you come again. It’s long and more intense than before and you feel like you’re about to pass out, but two arms pull you up. You don’t know who’s doing what, but you feel hands and lips all over you, kissing, biting, pinching. You guess the harsher motions come from Jeno and the gentle ones from your boyfriend but as you faintly make out their grins and chuckles, you’re not really sure about who’s doing what. 

“You fucking love this, fuck,” Jaemin mocks. “Such a filthy doll, so nasty, so needy.” 

“Are you going to beg for our cocks again?” Mark asks. “Gonna crawl around the — fuck — living room every time we come around here. Letting us use you like the pretty fuckdoll that you are.” 

Haechan whispers ‘you wish’ but seeing how much he’s loving this night, he wouldn’t mind. After all, you’re his and you will always be, and a little fun never hurt anybody. 

“Yes,” the word slips out of your mind without you thinking about it. 

“Yes?” Jeno snickers. 

“No, I mean — I mean, I…” 

“It’s okay, baby,” Haechan whispers, tugging your hair again and staring at your wrecked face. “Nothing wrong with being our pretty toy. Nothing wrong with craving cocks so much after your first time.” 

You hum, but no thought is actually crossing your mind. It’s like the more they fill you up, the more your brain empties. 

And the strange thing is that you don’t mind. You truly love this feeling of having no power while they do whatever they want with you. 

And the normal–every day–you would be surprised to hear you beg for more, using such filthy words. But right now, that doesn’t exist anymore.

“Please,” you moan. “Give me more. Uh, give me — give me your cum.” 

Jaemin curses gutturally, throwing his head back before his forehead dips again against your shoulder. Inhaling your sweet intoxicating scent. “You’ll be the fucking death of me.” He knows you’ll haunt his days and nights to come, and he’s not sure he’ll be able to look at you as he did before. 

And as if you want to prove him a point, your hips start to grind on them, somehow finding the right pace to fuck against them while he and Mark keep railing you at their perfect rhythm. 

You hear Mark’s moans get higher and slightly whinier, and when you open your eyes to look at him, you smile faintly, falling forward and planting your hands at the sides of his head. 

“Fuck,” Mark groans, biting his lips to don’t bite yours. He can’t believe you greeted them some hours ago looking like the most perfect, innocent, well-behaved girl, and now you’re letting them destroy you and are still begging for more. His brain replays images of you before, in your pretty, pink nightwear, with your sweet, loving smile, a thin layer of rosé eyeshadow, and some mascara on your lashes, and when he opens his eyes and looks at you, there’s nothing of it left. You look like a mess. 

“Come here,” he encourages you, and you lean closer, a choked moan trapping in your mouth when his tongue lays flat on your cheek and he licks your tears away. “Gotta keep you clean, baby.” 

“That’s hot,” your boyfriend groans beside you, and for a second, you think again if any of this that is happening tonight is normal. Do other boyfriends do this too? Did he ever do this with their girlfriends when they were dating? But you shrug it off because wrong or right, you don’t care. Mark is right, if it feels good, that’s all that matters.

And you feel the same, strong and violent sensation built up in your body. They are close too since their thrusts against you are messier and they are both squeezing the skin on your waist to have a grip on the pleasure running through them. 

“Can fucking feel you,” Jaemin moans, pressing a hand against the small of your back, pushing you further down and making your ass arch up. You get he’s talking to Mark, and you find it weirdly exciting that they can feel each other through your thin walls separating them. “Fuck, bunny, you feel so good.” You groan and burn in shame when he spreads your cheeks apart and spits on your wrecked rim, adding to the mess of cum and lube.

“Nana,” you cry out his name and he could come only hearing that. It comes out so well from your lips, so sweet and pure while he wrecks you and does the most disgusting things ever. 

“Is Nana making you feel good, bunny? Do you like how Nana’s cock fills your pretty, tight hole?” He coos, voice as sweet as the most temping sin. 

“Ye-yes, so good,” you moan, some drool spilling on Mark’s shoulder, too fucked out to care about it and control your body. It feels too good. Head spinning and muscles shaking as you know you’re close again. “Please, I’m — I’m close. Fuck me harder,” you wail and they both groan, obeying. Your boyfriend looks at you after clicking his tongue, thinking you will make him go insane, and then meets Jeno’s eyes, looking at him as if he’s silently reminding him how fucking lucky he is to have you. And Haechan only grins, because he knows. He’s so lucky that you’re his. 

Jaemin collapses on you, sandwiching you between his and Mark’s body, so closeted in that space that it could almost be claustrophobic and yet it makes you high. You love their skins on yours, heating bodies brushing together in a dirty and wet mess of cum, sweat, and so much more you can’t even tell apart. You love how raw this feels. As if you’re all running after a need you didn’t even know you had, chasing it for dear life. 

The orgasm ripples through the three of you at the same time, loud moans, groans, and wet sounds fill the room. It smells like sex, the air feels so thick that you could cut it. And you feel boneless, the weight of Jaemin’s body pressing you flat against Mark, the shocks of the nth orgasm still running through your tired bones, the faint praises you hear coming from one of them, two, or three, you don’t know. Their voices mix up, just like their lips and hands on your skin.  

When you lay there, gently turned to lay with your back on the mattress by Mark, too much cum dripping out of you, skin burning up, chest heaving swiftly, and wet cheeks, they think you’ve had enough. A weird feeling of pity screaming in the back of their minds to let you go, clean you up, give you some water and put you to sleep… in what bed they have no idea, considering the only safe thing is Mr Teddy.

But they underestimate what they truly did to you. 

“More.” 

They blink repeatedly, looking at each other to make sure none of them is mocking your voice and that’s the real you. 

“Please,” you plead. “Need more. Need you. Please, please, I’ll be good, I’ll — I’ll take all you give me,” you mumble, praying them with broken eyes staring at them one by one. 

And that’s all it takes to make them jump on you again. 

They broke you. 

Stained your innocence. 

Dragged any sane and pure thought out of your brain and turned you into modelable mud in their hands. 

Anything they would’ve given to you, you would’ve taken. Accepting it with no second thought of how dirty or wrong it could’ve been. 

And in fact, you don’t. 

“Need to feel how good your pretty, little pussy is,” Jaemin says, sinking into your swollen and sensitive core. “So good.” 

“Nana,” you cry, wrapping your hands around his shoulders when his cock starts rubbing against your velvety walls. 

“It’s good, bunny. I know you love this.” 

You sniffle, rivers of transparent and black tears staining your face, and he throbs inside of you, groaning into your neck when his head falls forward.

You look like a complete mess and yet, is not enough for him. So one hand slips between you and when his fingers rub against your clit, more tears start to spill from your eyes. 

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he whispers, “need to film this. Can I — fuck — can I film you, bunny? Can I film how pretty you look right now? Pretty and messy and dumb.” 

You nod, expecting the flash to blind you when Mark passes him a phone, but Haechan turns on a small lamp at the side of your bed that tints the room with a warm light and is enough to light up your wrecked state. 

He points at your face, caressing it, smearing the mess on your soft cheek, telling you how pretty you look, the pretties doll when you cry. And then he moves it where your bodies meet, the wet, squelching sounds and lewd images being captured by the camera of his phone. 

“You’re going to make me so happy, bunny,” he whispers, angling the phone the best he can as he tries to fuck fast into you, and Jeno is so kind to grab it and film for him. They were only going to have one take and it had to be good. “Gonna think of you every time I’m in pain.” 

A dumb, sweet smile paints on your face, and that’s what it takes to throw him off. After all, you still are the sweet, naïve, girl they are used to know. And he thinks that Haechan — he believes they won’t be so lucky to have you again — will have to break you every single time. And he wishes he was him so bad, so fucking bad. 

“Gonna fill you up,” Jaemin growls. “You’ll be so full of us you’ll remember us for days.” He does as he promises, giving you what you asked for, cock throbbing hard into you as he let out longer moans as pleasure overflows him and you at the same time. He comes messily, hips barely moving against you as he empties himself inside and then pulls out, making his seed spurt on your thighs, and lower stomach.

You hum into your boyfriend’s mouth, and your brain spins faster at that. He’s kissing you so gently as his other three friends keep fucking you, teasing you and filling you with their cum as they like. 

A moan ripples from your mouth when his fingers reach your cum-coated mound, you truly have it everywhere now, and he reaches down to move on your clit. 

“Hyuck, no,” you cry, swallowing a scream. 

“No?” Haechan raises a brow, staring at you with a tender-mocking expression. “Sensitive?” 

You nod, blinking your wet lashes as your eyes try to focus on his beautiful face. 

“You’re not sensitive for them, though. I think you can take me, can take your boyfriend.” He smirks, watching your smile fade when you get that he has no intention of having mercy on you. “Can you?” He growls, slapping your clit, making you nod and mumble a thread of ‘yes.’ 

“Good. That’s my fucking good girl.” 

You don’t have time to recover from your orgasm or focus on the mess Jaemin and Haechan made, that you’re getting filled again. 

“Shit,” Mark moans, wide eyes fixated down where he’s fucking into you, pumping the white mess in and out of you. “You feel so good,” he almost cries, squeezing his eyes to imprint in his brain the sensation of your cunt because he’s sure he never felt something so good before and he won’t ever feel something so good again — well, unless Haechan hits his head and lets them have another round with you, but he highly doubts that. And he also knows that the videos Jaemin took —is taking— won’t be enough, that his hand won’t be enough to replicate this, to replicate you. 

“Mark,” you breathe out, glossy, bright eyes looking into his, letting him know how drunk on the feeling you feel, how it is too much, and yet never enough.  

“Yes, baby?” He asks, cupping your breast, kneading and pinching your nipples. 

Your hips buck up at his harsh moves on you, hands slapping against the sheets and moans coming out of your mouth like screams. “Feels good, so good.” 

“Shit, I know,” he replies through gritted teeth. He knows you love this from the way your heat is gripping him tight as you probably came another time, he can’t even tell it anymore, it’s like you’re going through an eternal orgasm; cunt clenching, body squirming, nails sinking in the sheets under you and moans and curses coming out of your mouth. 

Mark wants to make it last longer but your pussy is sucking him in, and he thinks you’re also sucking his life away, and he can’t hold it more, so he comes inside you again. 

Your head rolls back and your nails dig into the sheets when you feel another cock slip into you, Jeno. He’s rough, gripping your flesh tightly, slamming you against him, lost in his pleasure. 

And then they take turns again, and again, at this point, they’re not even fucking you, they’re just putting the tip in and coming inside, not even that deep as they watch the white, sticky substance drip to your ass, mixing with the one that is slowing dripping out of that hole. 

It’s a sick thing. And when you think they can’t do anything worse than that, Jaemin surprises you once again. 

Your eyes widen when you feel something soft and wet wrap around your pussy lips and with the little strength left, you take a glimpse at the man buried between your legs. 

You want to ask what he’s doing but you’re too tired, too shocked, too…too… is too much to do anything else but let your head fall back and let him do whatever he wants. 

“You’re disgusting,” Jeno comments, a grossed-out frown on his face as he looks away from his friend, walking around the bed to reach you on the other side, hard cock in hand as he positions over you, bending his knees on the mattress so he’s at your level. 

You look at him with half-lidded eyes and whine when Haechan pulls away from you, leaving your side empty. 

“Open up,” Jeno orders and your body follows his order in the blink of an eye. “Can let this mouth empty.” 

Jaemin would love to eat you out more, but when Haechan taps his shoulder, he can only take a step back and wait for his turn again. 

Your hips buck up when Haechan enters you. 

“Fucking finally,” he moans, throwing his head back, feeling your warmth again. He’s not jealous of the others, he kept staring at them going at you for so long and he found it so hot. But he only had two orgasms at the start of the night and he needs to feel you again. “All stretched out and dirty. Such a messy baby. Are you my messy baby?”

You nod, choking on Jeno’s cock, lungs burning up as you feel like all your strength is being sucked —fucked— out of you.  

“Fuck,” he hums. “Can’t believe we didn’t do this before, can’t believe I let you fool me.” 

You don’t answer. You can’t; Jeno’s cock barely makes you breathe as he fucks your mouth with the same strength he fucked your pussy before, and your mind is too broken to let out words that are not slurred or moans. 

“Didn’t believe me when I told you this would ease the pain —shit— and now look at you,” Haechan coos, hand reaching your neck, feeling Jeno’s shape on your throat. “If only you took it easier, babe —fuck— could’ve —ugh— could’ve had this long ago.” 

You can hear the wet sounds of Mark and Jaemin’s cocks, jacking off swiftly, and you wonder how much more they have to give you and how it doesn’t hurt, because it’s starting to hurt you, it’s starting to truly feel too much. Pleasure getting unbearable, and yet, they seem to still have more. 

Haechan pushes your legs up and the sound you make is embarrassing, but nobody in the room truly cares, is not the only dirty sound filling the room. And they are too caught up in their world to even worry about a puff of air and squelches of cum coming out of your used holes. 

Jeno pulls out of you, and spit drools out of your mouth as you try to catch your breath. 

“Hyuck, close,” you cry, looking at your boyfriend with tears-streaked face, Jeno’s harsh thrust triggering your tears even more. And the sight would be enough to make him come but he needs to try one thing before coming one last time. 

“Hyuck, fuck,” you scream when he pushes into your rim, stretching your other hole again after it had relaxed. Why they never warn you when they fuck you there?

“Shut up,” he says, kissing you harshly, shielding you from Jeno that huffs in annoyance. “You took Jaemin, you can take me.” 

You nod mindlessly, nails running on his back, leaving red marks behind, and that makes him fuck into you faster. He loves this new side of you, he loves it so much and he wants to see even more. Drag a beast out of you. Turn you into a hunter instead of a prey. 

“Do it again,” he orders and at first you don’t get it but then your nails dig into his back again, scratching him more. “Fuck, yes,” he growls, throwing his head back.

A thought about why he wants you to hurt him crosses your mind for a split second but when the nth orgasm washes over you, your mind goes blank again. And Jeno uses your open mouth to fill you with his hard cock. You almost choke at the unexpected intrusion and your eyes widen when you feel two fingers dig into your sopping wet cunt. 

Jaemin. 

And then a pair of lips on your right nipple. 

Mark. 

Not only they are fucking you but they are fucking with you. 

Do they plan on making you pass out? Because you think you’re really close to that. 

You lose the grip on reality after what happens next, their moans get heavier and louder, cum spills on your face as Jeno pulls out of you, so sensitive he falls on the pillow over you. Your boyfriend comes soon after, the sight of Jeno jacking off on your face, painting your skin white, is the last straw, filling your ass, his cum mixing with Jaemin’s that was almost already all out of you. Mark would love to slip into you again but decides to go for another part of your body, using your limp hand to pump his painfully hard cock and come all over your breasts. 

You think they’re done, but Jaemin has once again something in store for you. 

Your feet plant against the mattress as your hips lift up from it when he starts eating you out, tongue entering your wrecked hole and lips sucking harshly on your clit while one of his hand keeps your body pushed down. 

The others look at you two in a drunken, dreamy gaze, they feel too tired, they have no idea how you’re still taking the last thing Jaemin wants to give you. But you do, you’re still moaning, crying and trembling in his hold, chanting his name and curses. 

And Jaemin gets drunk in that, slurping the mess on your cunt, leaving open-mouthed kisses, tongue lapping flat at your skin as he eats you out greedily, not caring about his, and his friends’, cum, and his fingers slip inside to push you toward the last orgasm. It’s intense, it freezes your body and makes you go slump against the mattress, whimpering and begging him to stop.

“Fuck,” Jaemin groans, grabbing his cock and masturbating fast, ruining all the job he did to clean you up when he messily comes on your mound, on your thighs, and your tummy. But you’re still beautiful, in all that mess, in all their fucked-up fantasies, you still look so precious and pure. So he takes one last snap as he smiles at you, looking at him through lidded eyes, and he knows you’ll fall asleep in the blink of an eye. 

“You’re a fucking dream,” he hums, kissing you, licking off some of Jeno’s cum. 

And they all think that too as, too tired to do anything, they collapse next to you. 

All of you would’ve thought about the rest tomorrow morning when everything would’ve sunk in, for now, you are letting it drip. 

hope you liked it!! let me know with comments, reblogs and asks if you want to ♡

[drunkhazed-archive]

young, dumb, and full of.. (l. hs, p. sh, s. jy, p. js)

pairing. female reader x heeseung x sunghoon x jake x jay

genre. what in the hentai is this? AU, I don’t know either, multiple partners, M/F, she works hard for the money, pwop

warnings. cnc(do not read if that makes you uncomfortable. thanks.), explicit smut.. pure filth, profanity, 🎥 and we’re rolling- in public, y/n is a famous pcorn star, hyung line are all pretty terrible, nct side characters, smut warnings under cut. minors DNI.

wc. 8000+

a/n. thank you for 10,000+ followers🩷

smut warnings. it’s porn- literally, it’s supposed to be unrealistic, dom hyung line, chikan(hyung line taking advantage of a sweet little angel on a train, that’s basically it), use of ‘little one/princess/slut/whore/baby’ etc, degradation, groping, fondling, forced handjob, fingering, breast play/torture, mind break, manhandling, spitting, oral, double penetration, anal(going in dry), choking, hair pulling, crying, rough sex, unprotected sex, cum shots galore. enjoy.

—————————

“Pigtails?”

Scrunching your face up, you yawn as you get a look at the minimal makeup on your skin. A little brush of mascara, lipgloss that could appear to be merely chapstick, and a light wash of tint to awaken your tired appearance at this hour.

“Don’t I look a bit..”

“Young?” The stylist behind you cackles, nodding to the call sheet on her vanity. “Did you not read about today’s concept?”

“You know I never bother with looking over those anymore, just do what the boss tells me to do.”

Speaking of- Jaemin shows up right on time with coffee in hand to wake you up for today’s shoot. 

“Drink up, you’re going to need it.” He warns mischievously. 

“Oh great, is it that time of the month already?” Aggressively stirring your iced cold brew to melt together, you reach for the call sheet. “Another gangbang?”

“You know it.” He hums, waving over your appearance. “Anyway can add some fake braces? She’s supposed to be really innocent and virginal.”

“I could but they may not last through deep throating.” The stylist quips, adding ribbons to your pigtails. 

“Who’s working with me today?” 

“New guys.” Jaemin leans against the vanity, nodding toward the entrance. “They should be arriving soon, Johnny hand-picked them himself.”

“New guys for a group scene?” You frown. 

“They’re no amateurs, and they’ve been killing it with the streams.” He lets you know, diverting his attention to the door opening. “Here they come.”

Four new guys, great. These group shoots can be hard enough with your experienced costars, why the fuck would Johnny choose amateurs for this.

“Guys, over here!” Jaemin shouts, motioning for the four confused men to approach. 

Ah the nerves radiating off of them could induce a damn panic attack. Just great. The shortest of the bunch breaks out into a wide smile, dragging his palms down his hips to absorb the sweat that’s collected on them.

“Good to see you again guys,” Jaemin waves, peering over their clothing. “You know, I was going to have you fitted but what you all have on right now could work perfectly for this shoot. If you’re okay with getting a little messy?”

They shrug and nod, taking in what each is wearing. “I would have tried a little more if I had known..” 

“No no this is perfect.” Jaemin snaps, waving over the four. “This is even better than my original idea. The four of you look like hooligans.. menaces to society.”

“Oh that’s great.” The one with the big smile chuckles nervously, heavy Australian adding charm along with the continuous way he bounces on the balls of his feet. “We’re the bad boys in town.”

“That’s right, and the star of the show,” he turns back to face you, proudly framing your face to display a prize. “She’s the good girl, never been kissed, hasn’t ever taken a cock.” Peering over his shoulder, he winks at them. “Which we all know is a fucking lie.”

“Jaemin.” You whine, adjusting the robe that’s been slipping from your shoulders. “So the new boys are here to cause trouble?”

Their ears perk up faster than dogs when a can of food gets cracked open. Four alert eyes widen, throats bobbing up and down. “There’s that look, we have some fans here I see.” Jaemin chides. “You’re all familiar with the legend then.”

“Uhh,” mumbled sounds and a few whispered ‘yeah’s meld between the four, shifting their gazes away. 

“Don’t be shy, you’ll be getting to know each other from the inside out soon.” He winks again, motioning for them to step closer.

“You’re so vulgar.” You sneer, pinching his exposed bicep.

“Are you not the one with a golden dick award for most impressive anal gape sitting on your coffee table?” 

“Right next to my starlet of the year.” You smirk, returning your attention to the four newcomers forcing their nervous smiles to not chatter. 

“Nice to meet you guys, welcome to the team.”

“I’m Jake,” that smooth accent comes out more confidently now, despite the tremble racking down the hand that he holds out for you. “It’s an honor to have this opportunity to film with you.”

“I like him, he’s respectful.” Shaking Jake’s hand, you ignore the ‘for now’ Jaemin whispers. Turning to the next who introduces himself at Jay, more quiet and cold when he bows with his hands clenched behind his back.

“Sunghoon.” A sharp smile follows, bowing his head before taking your hand. “Very excited to work with you.”

The last of the group holds the most intense eye-contact, sleek gaze carrying a silent confidence as he takes your hand and lays a kiss against your knuckles. “My name's Heeseung, really hope we get to work more together in the future.”

“Wow, must be my lucky day.” You flirt calmly, scanning them up and down. “Maybe Johnny knew what he was doing.”

“Yeah, Heeseung here hit 500 million viewers on stream last week.”

“Wow that’s a lot.” You say surprised, taking time to look him up and down. “You must be giving them something worth watching.”

“All of them do really good in the polls too.” Jaemin continues, pulling on a hat that he insists on wearing while filming and directing. “Should be a really good video outcome, I think our audience is ready for some fresh meat. Specifically to watch you get pounded by some new blood.”

“Look up vulgarity sometime.” Rolling your eyes, you lean back in the makeup chair. “Should I get dressed now?”

“Yeah, let’s get this going soon. Don’t want to lose light and have to make it look less authentic.” Whispering to the stylist, he instructs to keep your school uniform a bit unrealistic, slutty. This is porn afterall.

“Boys, come with me. We all have to earn our stripes here unless you’re the one taking cock.” Ordering the new group to follow him to set, you smile and wave them off. The tallest one, Heeseung, pursing his lips at you before heading off.

“He’s trouble.” The stylist says with raised eyebrows.

“You know the rule, no fucking outside of work.” You sigh, moving to the rack of clothes to be fitted. 

“And I know those rules get broken around here.” 

Brushing off that comment, you adjust the plaid skirt hugging your waist tightly, dragging out a pair of white cotton panties. The look is supposed to be innocent of course, even if the skirts far too short to cover up the bottom half of your ass. Leaving the top buttons of your blouse open to show-off cleavage, you pull on knee high socks and loafers. It’s the typical naive sweet innocent school girl look- perfect for this scenario.

“You got a real bus for this?” Entering the set , you fix the backpack straps on your shoulders, walking up to Jaemin. “Talk about budget.”

“We’re big time now, and also it was the cheaper option.” He notes, messing with the camera lens. “Building an entire set would have wasted time.” 

“Alright, what’s the rundown?”

“Right,” he stands up straight, fixing his cap again. “Come here guys.”

The four stand up and huddle together, most trying to avoid looking at you. “Obviously we’re filming a chikan scene, so don’t worry about acting much. I just need you to fuck. We want cock sucking, a lot of groping, cover her mouth.” Motioning to you, he cups your jaw to use you as a prop. “I expect you to cum multiple times too, on her face, tits, ass, panties, make a fucking mess alright?”

Panic fills their faces as they nod along. You’ve become more than used to this after working under Jaemin’s directions for the past year. “I’ll have to intervene once in a while to change your positions for certain shots, we like to get some up close point of view ones. The viewers really love that, but for the most part I want you to do your thing.”

Letting you go, he directs where you’ll start off outside of the bus. “You’ll see her standing alone on the platform looking clueless, headphones on, playing on her phone, completely dumb and oblivious to her surroundings. That’s when you’ll set the plan in motion,” he points at Heeseung, fingers snapping. “You, the big one, you’ll be the ringleader. You’ll see her first, and tell your buddies that this is your conquest today. That’s when you’ll corner her on the bus and start harassing her, threatening her to succumb.”

Sunghoon hides a pout fast when Heeseung gets chosen. “We all get to fuck her right?”

“Of course.” Jaemin assures. “And don’t hesitate to stick it in her ass, use the fuck out of her. I want a lot of footage for this one.”

“If I can’t speak up I’ll pinch you to stop.” You add, knowing they’ve gone over the rules and do’s and don’ts with Johnny before being allowed to participate in one of his productions. 

“Yeah, she’s a pro.” Jaemin, being the proud director he is, flicks your chin. “No one in this industry can take cock like our little princess.”

“Well, when you put it that way, I can accept your vulgarity.” Doing a quick spin on your foot, you bounce excitedly. “I’m ready to go, oh and I’m all prepped too so don’t focus on foreplay too much.”

“We won’t be having a closed set today either, the extras will be coming in just a minute here so try not to focus on them. Concentrate on the scene, I want it to feel really raw and gritty. We’re here to make a depraved masterpiece, got it?”

Heeseung claps his hands, nodding, shooting a thumbs up at the director. “Won’t let you down.”

“Good, because if you do,” Jaemin grins manically, stepping back to get behind the camera. “Those contracts will be altered.”

It must be so nerve wracking to be a male performer entering the adult industry. All you had to do was fuck your boss on camera and you were the companies new starlet by the next week.. but then again, you’re being sold for much more than just your body. It’s all about the face, the moans, the pretty way you cry, how many dicks can be stuffed inside of one of your holes. Even the pigtails currently styled in your hair can make or break a scene. Whereas a man is simply viable for his giant cock- their careers in this world hold more longevity even if their pay hardly compares to yours.

Luckily you’ll never have to experience that, all you have to do is ride cock and look good enough to make horny losers cum off that alone. 

“Let’s get some shots of you first.” Jaemin instructs, filming you walking around with your favorite playlist turned on. Carelessly twirling your hair around your index finger as you walk back and forth in front of the bus doors and place one foot in-front of the other to walk along a painted line. 

“Pose right there, a little concern in the face.” 

Furrowing your eyebrows, you peer over your shoulder as if a group of feral young barbaric men are ready to eat you up when they see you turn and reveal the bare backs of your thighs. White cotton underwear tucked beautifully between your ass. The four onlookers watch you work, already building up a sweat off the way you taunt and tease the camera alone. 

“We’re really doing this.” Jay mutters, stealing a sneaking look at Jake next to him. The other dryly swallows, adjusting his dick to press against his stomach under his belt. 

“I really wanna fuck her.”

Sunghoon says lowly behind his hand, doing his best to ignore the extras that walk onto set. Harder to ignore when he estimates more than 30 men have entered the small area. 

“Let’s do our best, can’t be too different from jerking off on live in front of millions of strangers.” Heeseung encourages his friends, having met them when joining the streaming company a year ago that called for attractive young men desperate to make good and fast money. 

“Hee’s right, this is our big break.” Jake adds, straightening up when Jaemin points at the four of them. 

“Enter from over there and make your way to the platform.” Yelling loudly, he gets everyone on set in order before calling out ACTION! 

It’s time to turn it on, what you’re really known for. Connecting with the camera in a way that allows your fans to feel like they’re the ones getting to fuck you. That’s what they love about you, what keeps them coming back to your videos when they need a quick nut.

It helps that Johnny insists on only hiring attractive men to participate in his videos. Who doesn’t love to watch good looking people fuck? That’s why you made it a priority to audition for his company above any other. 

It’s hard not to get excited when you can feel four sets of eyes watching you, following each and every small step you take waiting for the bus to arrive. Each of them are too good looking in such unique ways. Jake has that eager to please smile, bright eyes that look ready to grant you any wish. Jay with that sharp jawline, straight nose and dark lethal gaze, terrifying how one look from him could scorch your feet to the ground. Sunghoon, clearly the perfect one, not a single minuscule flaw on his gorgeous face, built as if he came straight from a Ken doll manufacturing company(but well equipped with Ken’s missing part).

And Heeseung, the one with looks that could kill. Quickly you lock eyes with him before twisting away and anxiously swallowing. The short memory of his soft lifts grazing your knuckles tingles up your spine, thighs tightly pressing together where you stand recalling the way he peered up at you. That indescribable look behind his eyes that made your gut coil, spiked fear and a rush of arousal all at once. Of course he’d be appointed the main, his energy alone could get you on your knees faster before he could even finish bellowing out the order to do so.

It’s fitting how exhilarated and uneasy you feel, perfect to build up what’s about to happen as soon as you enter this bus. 

The four boys appear on camera looking exactly the way Jaemin envisioned. A group of delinquents decked down from head to toe in baggy clothes, worn hoodies, ripped jeans, bulky shoes covered in scuff marks from running around and eating shit off a skateboard. They look ready to get up to no good, emphasized by the way Heeseung nudges into Sunghoon’s side and nods toward your unaware figure. His chin tipping in to whisper and signal for Jay and Jake to follow their lead. 

From a viewers standpoint, this is the norm. An average after school activity of illegal reckless teenage behavior. Because this is such a busy route at this hour, more than easy to get away with murder in broad daylight amongst a full cart. 

Motioning to his friends, they make their way to get behind you. The headphones in your ears keep you clueless to the scheming taking place only a couple of steps away. Two men barricade your sides as you enter ahead of the rush onto the bus, ushered to the furthest back corner as too many pile in and force their weight to fit in, rather suffer the time squished together than wait longer for another ride. 

Jake and Jay manage to stay by your side despite the pushing and shoving to enter, keeping a close position next to you with their arms reaching up to grab onto the metal bars nearby. Sunghoon speaks silently with one look, shoulder to shoulder with Heeseung where they stand in front of you blocking your view of the rest of the occupants. It’s perfect on screen, a successful trap to leave you with no way to escape. 

The fear written all over your face only amplifies how terrifying all of this is for you. Grasping the straps of your backpack tight enough to leave indentations against the insides of your fingers, nibbling your bottom lip with your gaze trained on the pairs of shoes facing you. Swarmed by the scent of hair gel, cologne, minty mouthwash each time Jake breathes against your ear. It’s torturous to wait for the cart to fill up with each of them taking in your appearance, nodding in approval to each other that you’ll do just fine right now. A birds eye view gets the perfect shot of how small you look surrounded by them, helpless, a little prey counting down the seconds for your predators to pounce.

The shift of the cart has you stumbling forward, cheek crashing against Sunghoon’s chest in front of you. His tongue clicks disapprovingly, shoving your shoulders back to launch you into Jake’s chest who took the opportunity to stand in your place. Further suffocating you between their warm worn down clothing. 

“You should be careful little one.” His accent sounds huskier whispering against your earlobe, hands finding your waist to hold you in place.

“Ah-it’s okay,” you attempt to shimmy away, gripped tighter to not let you budge. 

“Stay your pretty little ass right there.” He says shortly, wrapping an arm around your torso to press you flat against him, his other hand rushing down to bunch the side of your skirt together. “Do you know how dangerous it is for you to be walking around like this by yourself?”

“You’re lucky we ended up on here with you.” Jay’s deep tone speaks quietly from your side, moving close to place his palm under Jake’s arm. “Imagine some of these old motherfuckers had gotten to you first and taken advantage of you.”

“He’s right.” Jake huffs against your ear, lips smoothing down to your earlobe. “Count your lucky stars that it will be us using you however we please instead.”

The same hinted at panic that had been worrying your face implodes, opening your mouth wide to call out for help only for Sunghoon’s palm to slap down and cut you off. “Don’t even fucking think about it.”

The muffled cry for help still manages to make it far enough for the hidden microphones set up around you to catch, something the viewers will really enjoy as your struggle begins. 

Jake squeezes in even closer somehow, breathing right into your ear as he scratches down your upper thigh. “I’m a big fan.” He whispers extra quietly, eyelids low. “Can’t wait to cum inside of you.”

Fuck. It’s a good thing Sunghoon has a grip hard enough to leave fingerprint marks behind over the lower half of your face. Having to wrinkle your eyes shut to stop them from rolling up, you’d moan given the chance. Risking this moment on the clock to admit that only makes the wetness trickling from your cunt rush out faster. Panties completely soaked through before you’ve even been properly touched. 

“I don’t know.” Jay chuckles softly, grazing his palm lower to cup between your clenched thighs. “I think she seriously can’t wait for us to use her.”

“Is that right?” Sunghoon glares at you viscously. “Here I thought we found ourselves a nice innocent little virgin. What type of virgin gets wet from this, huh?” 

“Nah, she’s soaking.” Lifting his hand up between your bodies, Jay shows off how glossy you’ve left his palm, further setting in how humiliated you should feel right now.

“What a darling angel.” Jake remarks, nibbling your earlobe between his plump lips. “Only a virgin could get that wet so easily. We’ve barely started with you.”

Sunghoon’s palm loosens off your mouth, dragging an index finger down the middle of your lips. “If you scream, I’ll make sure you never make another sound again. Got it?” He smiles, charming and handsome, but the sadistic tone he speaks in can hardly go unnoticed. Softly nodding, you whimper when Jake digs his blunt nails into your upper thigh, dragging them up to scratch at the hem of your pantyline. 

“Don’t be so mean,” he laughs raspily. “We can play nice if she cooperates. You’ll be a good girl for us right sweetie?”

Heeseung clears his throat, grabbing onto Sunghoon’s shoulder to tug him closer and whisper something. The same dark observant gaze traces over your face as his lips move, no doubt issuing orders as the leader of the crew. Nodding, Sunghoon reaches for his phone, angling the camera at your face before you can look away. “Let’s see that pretty smile.”

“You heard him.” Jay says annoyed, clutching your jaw to force you to look ahead. The sight of sharp teeth behind the phone twist your gut, wondering if he’ll leave bite marks behind to admire tomorrow when you roll out of bed after no doubt using half of the day to recover. “Give us a smile.”

“So cute baby.” Jake hums, dragging his fingers under your panties. 

“That’s a face I won’t forget anytime soon.” Sunghoon says menacingly, turning the phone around to display the photo. “None of us will.”

The silent threat is meant to keep your tongue hidden, lips trembling as you take in the distraught look on your face. Jake smiling over your shoulder, Jay leaning in with his nose dug into your cheek allowing his sharp jawline to shine. 

“That’s a good girl.” 

“Bet you’re always on time for class, never tardy.” Jake adds onto Jay’s commentary. The three of them throw out more degrading words as Heeseung stands guard with his arms crossed over his chest, stoic expression unwavering. 

“All these books.” Sunghoon grins, spilling your belongings from the backpack they managed to remove from your shoulders along with the embroidered uniform blazer you had on. “Real studious huh? Top of your class and shit.”

“Hope that means you’re a fast learner.”

Jake maneuvers you to face Jay, dipping his hand deeper inside of your underwear to cup your cunt. “Fuck you’re seriously dripping.”

Muffled whimpers escape under Jay’s burning gaze, sandwiched between the two making fast to feel up your body. The undone buttons give easy access to pop the rest free, one ripping off and hitting one of the cameras like a pingpong.

“That’s a money shot.” Jaemin whispers from his chair, chin in hand while focusing on the scene unfolding. Johnny was right, these new guys hardly needed any type of assistance.

“Can’t believe you can even fit these inside of that uniform.” Jay licks at his lips, rolling your flimsy bra down under your breasts to release your naked chest.

“Please don’t—“

“Shut the fuck up.” Sunghoon laughs breathily. “I don’t care how fucking cute you sound begging. Don’t make a God damn scene.”

“Don’t be shy baby.” Jay nearly salivates, slowly ducking forward with his eyes trained on your face. Pleased by the tears that have begun to well up at the rims. “These fat tits deserve to be seen.”

Soft lips wrap around one of your nipples, biting down roughly until it fully hardens. Jay’s mouth switches back and forth between your breasts, pinching and rolling whichever stiffened little bud his mouth can’t occupy. “Fuck you’re shaking so much.” He mumbles, continuing to assault your tits until the soft wrinkled flesh around your nipples swell. The stimulation shooting waves down to your knees until they lock and you fully slump back against Jake.

“Think she’s gonna cum from this alone.” He speaks up from behind you, amazed by the amount of wet arousal filling up his palm. “Fuck, I need to get inside this pussy.”

Biting down on your shoulder, his chest buries against your back to keep you held up. Freeing himself from the confines of his baggy jeans enough to get them just beneath his ass. He drags your ruined panties to one side, bending at his knees to shove his length against your swollen folds. “Holy fuck.” 

“Don’t fuck her without me.” Jay murmurs, mouth too busy leaving teeth marks and bruises on your chest. 

“N-no please!” You shriek as Jake ruts against your cunt, hard cock spreading your chubbed folds open. The glide seamless thanks to the amount of slick pouring from your hole. 

“That’s it.” Sunghoon grits loudly, bringing his palm back over your mouth. “Clearly you can’t listen for shit. You know what that makes you?”

“A bad girl.” Jake moans all too pleased, humping against your backside to fully soak his cock with your juices. The head smashing against the front of your underwear, stretching out the worn down cotton material with each rough push.

“And do you know what happens to bad little whores like you?” Jay kneads your chest, spitting at your breasts until they gleam with saliva. “They get fucked, hard.”

“N-need to fuck her right now.” Jake whines, holding down a hiss by biting down on the back of your neck. 

“Then fuck her already.” Sunghoon growls quietly, grabbing your hand to rub up and down the thick bulge protruding from his sweats. “We don’t have all day.”

“Keep these on.” Jay whispers heavily, yanking on the sides of your underwear until they stretch painfully and cut into your skin, pushing out the fleshy meat to shape the curves of your ass. 

A camera angled beneath your bodies captures everything perfectly, from Jay’s hand sweeping between your thighs to glide Jake’s length between your folds, to the aggressive way he hauls one of your legs up for easier access, visibly digging the tips of his fingers into your sensitive flesh.

“Oh fuckkk,” prodding the tip of his cock inside, Jake’s neck loosens letting out a long-winded groan. Eyes clenched shut as he inches in and Sunghoon maintains fierce eye contact with you, hiding a smile when your tears break and roll down to dampen his hand. 

“Tighter than a fucking virgin.” 

“Is she?” Sunghoon questions, leaning in closer to whisper. “Can’t wait to ruin your tight pretty cunt.”

Gripping onto your wrist harder, he forces your hand up and down over his bulge. The three of them close in on you until you feel like you can no longer breathe without inhaling their musky scents. Sweat mixes with the cologne and body wash clinging to their skin, each of them taking long showers to scrub down clean and smooth before their debut shoot. “The harder you try to put up a fight..” he hisses, unleashing his fully aroused length. “The harder I get.”

“It’s so fucking cute how you keep whining.” Jake agrees, building up a rhythm, hip bones crashing against your ass. “Seriously, I was so nervous.” He speaks extra quietly into your ear, panting short breaths between each word. “But you’re so fucking hot I’m losing my mind.”

The desperation dripping off his tongue causes your knees to buckle, gripping Jay’s chest with your free hand as Sunghoon’s much larger one forces you to wrap around his stiffened girth. Thick heated up flesh swipes back and forth against your palm, jerked forward by Jake’s eager thrust. The whole scene screams delinquent horny young men, as dark the whole scenario is supposed to come across, you can already sense a hit being made. Streams exploding, purchases breaking numbers, the four becoming regulars on future sets that could easily become highly favored by fans.

Hands swarm from your ass to your chest, Jay’s mouth working mercilessly until your breast look pained enough to burst. The nipples ramrod hard, bitten over, skin swollen and puffy around. With an all too pleased gleam passing his gaze, he reaches between your thighs to tease your hardened nub. Using the same effort to raise you onto your toes, digging deep into the cute faux-leather loafer with one leg dangling in the air hooked over his flexed arm. 

“You’re seriously such a whore.” He hisses, expertly grazing your clit between two digits. “Getting off to this, aren’t you?

“Uh-huh—“ you manage to mumble dumbly. Rocked back and forth onto Jake’s fat girth. Sunghoon controlling the way you jerk him off, and Jay torturing your clit into a frenzy. The heat budding from between your thighs rises, coiling from your gut to your sternum, chest caving in. 

“Cut cut!” Jaemin screams out loud abruptly, instructing everyone to stay put. “I need a good shot of this.”

Controlling the camera above your head, he works the crane to get closer. The shot aimed at the dead look behind your eyes, the typical dumb porn slut look. Only yours is special, what you’re most known for. The eye contact you manage to grab the viewer with through the camera, almost as if you’ve caught a peeping Tom. But instead of appearing angry or upset, you welcome them into this fantasy, living out every perverse sensation and need. This is the shot that breaks the third wall, removes any sense of guilt and reminds you that this is just porn and you should absolutely be getting off right now.

“Rolling!” He howls out, focused on the screen that’s zoned in on your sultry lust-filled gaze. The enjoyment behind the corners of you tweaked up lips, the tip of your tongue dragging across your teeth. Neck arched back allowing Sunghoon’s to grip around your throat, his palm starkly large and veiny in contrast to your delicate décolleté. It’s perfect and beautiful on screen, but really the best view for Heeseung.

Watching on this entire time, he could rip out his tongue by now. Suffering the more he waits and waits and waits. Balled up fist hidden inside the sleeves of his hoodie to keep a cool and calm stature. He knows it will be worth the wait after all this anticipation. Johnny had said when they finished all the paperwork and finalized contracts that most likely his first scene would be with you. Standing here now made it all so surreal, washing his mouth with spit the heavier his tongue grows, in disbelief at the display before him.

It’s a new feeling to get hard watching over his friends have their way with a girl he knows they’ve all beat off to numerous times. None too shy to drop links in the group chat to videos they deemed great for a fast stroke sesh, your face often appeared.

The same face fighting back pleasured moans, forcing your forehead to wrinkle together and scrunch your nose in disgust as tears roll down your cheeks. If he even accidentally brushed his dick up against something right now he’s sure he’d spill over and ruin his briefs. 

“Taking cock real good for a virgin aren’t you?” Jay smirks, pushing a finger in alongside Jake to stretch your hole open further. “He looks ready to explode back there.” Wasting no time to add another finger, he jokingly nods to his friend behind you. Tongue lolled out, slobbering over his chin like some starved animal. He thrusts deep, feeding you each inch of his big cock. “I’m going in, cover her mouth good.” He mumbles, chin pointed at Sunghoon.

The taller agrees, dipping his index and middle finger in past your lips. “Hope your mouth’s better than this shit handjob.”

Stretching his digits out as much as he can inside of you, he grunts and pulls out, using the wetness clinging to his skin to coat his cock. “Relax.” He hisses softly, gripping around the middle of his length to force the tip in past your filled hole. The prodding has you kicking off the floor, foot dangling in the air with gurgled yelps emitting around Sunghoon’s fingers. 

The position Jay’s managed to get you in makes the glide less painful, giving your entrance a few jabs before finally popping the tip of his cock inside. Wrinkles dig into the skin around his eyes as he passes along his friend's slippery length. The two releasing deep guttural groans when the tips meet inside of you. 

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Jake moans out raggedly, sounding torn by the grip that blankets around him with Jay’s cock nudged up against his. They move in opposite motions, Jay pulling out whenever Jake thrusts back in, the friction budding against your inner walls pinching at a tense heat in your stomach. Wrapping your lips around the fingers in your mouth to cut off a scream, you suck, hand lazily continued to be dragged by Sunghoon’s grip. His deep breaths resonate from your side, not as desperate as Jake’s blowing into your ear, but loud enough to pick up on.

“G-gonna cum.” Sunghoon says behind pursed lips, stripping your hand off his size to force his cock between you and Jay. “On her panties.”

“God damn.” Jay wouldn’t believe it given any other moment, not being the first time he’s ever fucked with the same girl his friends have. Kissing the backs of his teeth, he slows down to blink the blur away from his eyes and watch as Sunghoon tugs at his cock roughly, white strings shooting out onto your mound and the base of his own length. 

It should be gross to feel his friend’s warm gooey cum drip down to his balls as he bends his knees to throw you up and down on his and Jake’s swollen members, but he can’t deny the way his sack tightens up. Eyes rolling back letting out a howl that would without a doubt grab everyone’s attention on a full train in reality.

“Fuck—I’m cumming, I’m fucking cumming.” Jay groans, deep and rumbled. Wrapping his arms around your shoulders for better leverage to really make these last few sloppy thrusts count. Each aim of his slimy wet cock more frantic than the last, the friction of Jake’s size rubbing along the underside of his making his head spin faster. Between the grip on your waist from behind, you get bounced between the two of them. Hole stretched impossibly wide, ripping at the hair lining Jay’s nape to calm your need to shout.

Their ministrations are ruthless, running after sweet release in tandem, unbothered by the muffled shrieks emitting from beneath Sunghoon’s hand. 

Jake’s garbled uh-uhn-uh’s puffing against your ear twists through your brain, eyes rolled back desperately dying to get out a scream. Another wave of hot pleasure spills as your resistance shatters and you lick at Sunghoon’s palm, finally letting out a high-pitched scream.

“Take it.” Jay growls huskily, pumping his cock in deep despite Jake’s whining. He slams in one more time, shoving his seed deep enough inside to paint your cervix with the mess. 

Slapping at his chest, Jake shoves him away with one hand, fully taking advantage when his length slips out and he has complete free range to go wild inside your pussy. The little pained sounds he’d been letting out turn gruff, belting your waist to drag you up and down his size. The slip and slide on and off his cock even easier with Jay’s load coating him. He pants harshly along the column of your throat, letting out a shattered shout when the first flick of hot tongue laps against the underside of his size.

“Oh shit.” He simpers between grinding teeth. Jay looks up, from between your thighs, tongue dragging aimlessly from your clit to the thick girth burying inside your stretched hole. Sweat and wet slick meld together down his nose, lips dripping with a bit of his own release as he kisses along your pussy folds angrily wrapped around Jake’s cock.

“Shitshit—I’m gonna—c-cum,” he stutters, trembling against your back. The grip on your waist loosening as he topples over. 

“Move.” Sunghoon sounds near demonic, throwing an arm around your waist to snatch you away from the two. Ripping you off Jake’s length too fast, cum pours down your inner thighs, hole rapidly convulsing open. “Shhh, shut the fuck up.”

His reputation of being mouthy on stream precedes him, shoving you down onto your knees roughly between curses. “You wanna get caught acting like a fucking whore?”

“Nuh—no,” you shake, giant watery eyes blinking up pleadingly. Biting down harshly, his jaw twitches, resisting the urge to crumble and drag you back up. No one’s made a proper mess of your pretty face yet, and he’s not one to disappoint.

“Didn’t think so.” Pushing his sweats lower, he strokes his length back to full hardness. Sliding the width down the middle of your face, slapping the meat against your cheek until your mouth pops open. “Gonna fuck your little virgin ass.” He grins, popping the tip in and out between your parted lips. “So you better get me all nice and wet, or it’s going to hurt you real bad baby.” Resting the weight of his cock between your lips, he reaches for your pigtails to pull on. Using them like handlebars to hold onto and feed his cock in and out. Pulling the strands of hair between his digits each time your teeth barely scrape along his size.

Subtly reaching beneath yourself to glide the plug free from your hole, you agree to whatever he keeps spewing on about. Lapping up every inch, spitting out globs of messy saliva with a pained expression as if it disgusts you to do as he says. Half torn by your attraction to each of them and by how immoral and wrong this is all supposed to be.

“Never sucked a dick in your life have you?” He spits, looping under your arms to pull you onto your feet. Pressing the center of your chest against a pole, it’s clear for anyone watching at home in the future now that you can easily be seen by the other train occupants. It’s not as if you’re aiming to win an Oscar for best motion picture, maybe an Adult Video nomination for best gangbang at best.

“Nice and open for me.” He huffs against your ear, all of this being picked up by the microphones hidden around. Jaemin would have their horny fanboying edited out later before final production. “Exactly how I like it.”

The shot of the fat tip of his reddened girth testing your rim would make anyone cum by this point if they haven’t. Despite prepping yourself prior to entering the set, he’s big, as expected based on Johnny’s hiring requirements. The bulbous cockhead burns, splitting past your asshole, gripping onto the back of your waist to further arch your ass out. He hisses the whole way watching with intense burning focus as you suck in every last inch. 

Hiding his face away against your shoulder, he blinks in a rush, chest trembling against your spine. “Fuck, you’re seriously so tight.”

To mess with him, you subtly circle your hips. Eager to see if he’s all talk after cussing you out to shut up over and over again. “Come in, give me that dick. Ruin my hole.”

Sunghoon has to bite down on his lip to not let out the most pathetic moan. Clutching your waist tightly as he draws out to the tip and repeats the same motion. “Keep talking like that..” he mumbles, going in faster with each thrust. “I’ll seriously never let you walk again.”

“Yeah? Then do it.” Bending lower, the sight before him becomes even more obscene. Plaid skirt flipped all the way up. Ruined white cotton panties stretched out to one side. Cock throbbing pink with raging veins burying inside of your ass. 

“Nasty fuck hole.” He growls, slapping your exposed buttcheek. “Fucking whore taking all of it.”

The way you bend completely, ass up in the air for him to use makes his stomach twist. Muscles twitching under his shirt as his hips crash down and your backside ripples upon impact. He can’t pretend that the most revisited window living amongst his incognito tabs isn’t your first on-screen anal. Allegedly the first time you’d ever taken it up the ass, he even has his favorite timestamps memorized for those days he needs to get off in less than 10 minutes. Clasping onto your buttcheeks, he pulls them further apart and slowly sinks in deeper. 

Exactly like that part at 13 minutes and 37 seconds when the camera zoomed in on your obscenely stretched out rim, only better because his dick looks so good buried deep inside of your ass.

“Get up.” He rumbles lowly, arms wrapping over your chest. The sudden impact of his hips slamming against you cutting off your breath. Using one of his arms to circle your head, he traps your neck in a firm chokehold. Ramming his dick in deep, the glide in and out smooth with precum bursting from his tip. The warm heat gripped around him mind boggling, more euphoric because he’s been here in fantasies. He’s fucked this ass in place of his palm, but the real thing could only ruin him forever. 

“Fuckfuck.” Sunghoon grits thinking about it. Bicep flexing large and cutting off your breathing the tighter he coils around your throat. Cock twitching between your ass cheeks as release pours out, most of it dripping out past his size onto the backs of your thighs, landing in loud plopping puddles on the floor. He has to bite down on your jawline to stop himself from fanboying over getting to fuck your ass. In disbelief after months of jerking off to a handful of his favorite go-to videos that you just so happened to star in(not that he watched his collection 50 more times this week alone). The chance to work with you again in the future can’t be ruined by a moment of weakness, no matter how victorious he feels right now.

“You tighten up so good around my cock.” Licking up to your ear, he cups the sides of your ass to squeeze and bury his fingers into the fleshy meat. Drawing out slowly, inch by painful inch gliding out torturously. “Sucked me dry little one.”

“Fuck man, I’m getting hard again.” Jake laughs, eyeing the bulge forming inside of his jeans. 

“Too bad.” Heeseung pushes off one of the poles, arms that had been snuggly crossed on his chest falling to his sides. “Want you all to myself now.” He mostly mouths, making it hard to hear with the message that’s for your ears only. “Come here.”

Pulling your arms to wrap over his shoulders, you strain to grasp onto him, tingling from head to toe with pleasure. The remaining three make more space by creating a wall with their bodies to block any curious eyes, mostly having forgotten that they’re supposed to be acting. 

Rule number one: No kissing on the lips. Ever. Can lead to termination.

He gulps, thumbs swiping over the wet and dry tears on your cheeks. It’s not an outlandish or weird rule, of course not. But he can’t ignore how pouty and inviting your mouth looks right now. Glossy with spit, inflamed from taking Sunghoon’s massive width. 

He really takes a good minute or longer to touch over your stomach, hands snaking underneath your unbuttoned top. Kneading and squeezing at your soft skin, tracing down to your hips to caress over how round and supple your ass feels in his hands, spilling out between his digits. 

There’s nothing to say between the two of you, essentially strangers about to fuck for the first time after taking 3 dicks. You still have to hold back a smile, tucking your chin in when he hauls you closer and squats down to capture your thighs. Exerting more strength than he appears able to and catching you off guard, setting your arms to cling tightly behind his neck. Not many would be bold enough to sink your weight down onto their dick to ride for the first time. The confidence radiating off of him reignites your initial excitement, still heavily trickling wetness. 

As much as he wants to throw you up and down his length with nothing to hold him back, he needs to see the moment his cock pushes inside of you. Gently resting your back against the carts wall, he pulls back just enough to direct the tip of his length between your drenched folds. He’s never seen it so angrily engorged, full of blood, veins visibly beating. But he’s waited long enough for this. Pushing lower, he dips in, slit kissing just past your entrance.

“Oh—“ whispering under his breath, he blinks furiously. Tucking his bottom lip in to bite down on. Cockhead gleaming back at him coated with your wet slick. It’s too good already to feel the heat emitting from your cunt, taut skin sucking around him ready to never let go. 

“Please.” You whine out, face so fucked out with your head rolling against the wall. Tugging at his hair, you softly moan. “Put it in.”

Fuck.

That’s really all it takes to snap his tenacity in half. He slams forward, hips jolting against yours. A vigorous speed breaking out, hammering his cock in deep. Heeseung grunts wildly, keeping the backs of your knees hooked over his biceps for leverage as he fucks into you without abandon. The once impassive unreadable look on his face morphing to an animalistic rabid one. Eyebrows dripping with sweat, eyes large and fierce, lips pulled back tight bringing out a sharp jawline and cheekbones. 

The moans you let out only drive him to fuck into you more violently, filling you with each inch of his thick long cock. He crushes you in, lungs squished by your legs being completely folded. The position allowing him to hit balls deep. The clap of his sack loudly slapping against your gaped asshole, booming off the compacted space around you.

It’s the right angle for the tip to bulge just beneath your navel. Taking a step back from the wall he firmly cups your ass. Fingers digging in hard to keep up his pace, the clapping bounce slapping against his hips and thighs loud, roaring thunderously through the bus. The guys behind him watch on, swallowing to quench their drying throats. It’s so pornographic, the muffled whimpers coming from your mouth buried against Heeseung’s chest. The loud claps of skin meeting skin. The thick wet cock stretching your hole open wide, and the recoil your ass gives with each unrelenting thrust. 

“Yes! Fuck!” He groans out too loud, head tossed back. The muscles lining his arms burning with effort. Each squat clenching his ass. “Such. A. Good. Little. Fucking. Slut.”

Each word gets shouted out with a rough jab of his hips, accompanied by your stinging ass smacking against him. He stills, teeth gritted, face covered with sweat. It’s the hardest release he’s had in a long time, not recalling cumming this hard since edging himself for 3 hours during a lonely thunderstorm. 

The warm release spills out with your slick, having weakly cum at some point mid-thrust. You scrambled to hold on tight, fearful of losing balance and falling the faster he kept going somehow. Only slowing down to press his cock inside of you one more time before pulling out fully. 

It’s a perfect shot to finish off, held over the camera on full display with loads of semen dripping down your inner thighs, pussy lips engorged and wrecked. It’s the climax anyone paying to watch would dream of. To get a close up look at your spread apart legs as Heeseung holds your weight up off the ground with shaking arms. The orgasm still sending shockwaves through his limbs, weakening the last bit of strength he has left.

“AND CUT!” Jaemin’s voice bellows, shoving through the extras that make their way to exit the set. “That was great! You guys did an awesome job.”

Heeseung securely hoists your thighs around his waist, slumping back onto a now emptied seat to catch his breath. “I know uh, aftercare is against the rules..” he mumbles softly by your ear, lightly tracing up your spine. “But is there anything you need me to do?”

“I’ll handle this.” The assistant Jaemin had hired recently, Chenle, rushes over with clean towels and a robe in hand. “You can go off and get cleaned up now.” 

Still half-asleep against his chest you try to nod, in dire need of a hot bath to soak in and soothe your limbs after being stretched out in all kinds of directions. Heeseung does his best to help you get back on your feet and get yours arms inside of the robe, taking one of the towels to clean himself off before gathering his bottoms.

“Was nice to meet you, I really hope we’ll be able to work together again in the future.” Near future he wants to emphasize, maybe even his next shoot if he can be so lucky. A solo scene involving only the two of you ideally. Then he could really impress you..

“I’m sure we will.” You smile sleepily, wrapping an arm around Chenle’s shoulders to hold yourself up. “Real soon.”  —————————

[jamaisjoons]

good girl ⤑ ksj ft. myj ∙ pjm | m.

⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦:〝 accidentally walking in on your boyfriend’s flatmate, min yoonji, and her boyfriend park jimin, was probably the best thing you’d ever done. 〞pwp au.

❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: seokjin x reader x yoonji x jimin

❥ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: smut • some fluff

❥ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 23k : )

⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠:  hard dom!seokjin, hard dom!yoonji, sub!jimin, sub!reader, big cock!seokjin, thick cock!jimin, possessiveness, foursomes, lots of bdsm themes, lesbian sex, voyeurism, exhibitionism, mistress kink, sir kink, pegging, masturbation: female, praise, pussy eating, teasing - so much fucking teasing, edging, wet & messy sex, sex toys, masturbation, pussy slapping, bondage, blindfolding, gagging, dirty talk, degradation, praise, did i mention teEASING? and edGING?, nipple play, temperature/ice play, fingering, multiple orgasms, cum eating, orgasm control, orgasm denial, overstimulation, pussy slapping, handjobs, hair pulling, cock sucking, throat fucking, deepthroating, cum eating, cum swapping, cum smearing like rubbing cum into a body, spitting, slight choking, cum swallowing, also spit swallowing, lots of neediness, listen there’s so much edging and orgasm denial in this im surprised i haven’t gone mad, cum shots, cumplay, masturbation: male, rough breast/nipple play, biting, marking, scratching, joint pussy eating, grinding, unprotected sex, rough sex, doggy style, riding, reverse cowgirl, two doms fuck each other n fight to have the upper hand, ass eating, anal fingering, anal sex, reader gets strapped, double penetration, multiple orgasms, squirting, anal creampie eating, forced orgasms, creampie, aftercare ᵘʷᵘ ˘ ³˘

➵ 𝑎/𝑛: that’s right. min yoonJI because this one’s for the gays, let’s fucking get it yeehaw. also see that tag list? i had to do it to em

⏤ edited by the wonderful @shadowsremedy​ and @peekaboongi​

Stepping into your boyfriend’s flat, you shut the door quietly behind you - not wanting to disturb his flatmate, Yoonji, if she was home. Discreetly, you take your shoes off and hang your coat onto the coatrack by the door before you pad further into the flat. Originally, you and Seokjin had plans to go out for dinner considering it’s date night - however, he’d suddenly called you and said he’d be running late: something or the other about needing to finish some important paperwork at the office. Thus, you’d suggested just staying in and ordering a takeaway.

You whip your phone out and begin typing a message to your boyfriend, letting him know you’re at his apartment and would be waiting for him in his room. If Seokjin was home, the two of you would happily sit in the living room - however, without your boyfriend, you don’t feel as comfortable. You’ve met Yoonji numerous times over the course of your relationship, and you’d like to consider yourself friends. However, the reason for your hesitance in sitting in their living room, is that you’d be completely lying if you said you weren’t somewhat attracted to her.

From her pretty, delicate features such as her cat-like eyes and softly sloping nose and deliciously pouty lips - her shoulder-length bob that only highlighted the elegant column of her neck - to her slim, lithe body: toned from years of gymnastics and figure skating; Min Yoonji is the ideal woman. And you can’t help but feel the attraction towards her. In fact, if you weren’t desperately in love with your own boyfriend, and if Yoonji wasn’t currently seeing someone, you’d have tried to gather the courage to ask her out on a date. Tried being the keyword - you have no doubt that your resolve would crumble the moment she smiled at you.

Keep reading

[mssishipi]

YOUR TURN — hyung line

YOUR TURN — 1. A phrase used in a gangbang to tell the next person waiting that it’s time for them to step in and get involved. 2. A slut’s opportunity—the moment when it is finally her chance to act, indulge, and surrender herself after others have already taken theirs. The phrase emphasizes delayed gratification, where the receiver eagerly awaits her turn to be used or to participate after hearing others go before her.

content tags/warnings: hyung line x reader, reader is horny and desperate, men are assholes, inspired by the show series euphoria. explicit content (smut): porn with no plot at all, gangbang, face fucking, facials, nipple play, fingering, oral fixation, unprotected sex, degrading language, pet names (baby, sweetheart, darling etc), double penetration, protected anal sex, slapping, hentai like expressions, handjob, overstimulation, tits fucking, squirting, lack of verbal consent in some scenes, choking, pain play, creampie, this is straight up porn but have a potential romance at the end. lmk if i missed something. WC: 17.2K

It wasn't like you were some kind of slut, right?

Who were you kidding? Any girl with a working pussy would drool if she stood close enough to those four men. Not just because of their looks, not just because of the sharp edges of their jawlines or the way their eyes seemed to strip people down without touching them, but because how they confidently carried themselves. Their scent. That mix of cologne and sweat that made your throat dry the second they passed by. It wasn't normal, not the way your body reacted. Not the way your thighs pressed together when you thought of them. But you kept telling yourself it was. It had to be.

Lee Heeseung, Park Jongseong, Sim Jaeyun, and Park Sunghoon. 

Four names that rang louder than any lecture in your university halls. Four names whispered in bathrooms, shouted across freedom walls, written down in anonymous confessions like some fucking campus legends. Everyone knew them. Everyone wanted them. And everyone, at least once, wondered what it would be like to be touched by them.

People pretended to sneer at their lives, at the rumors tied around them, but the truth always leaked through—envy, hunger, the kind of desperate need nobody wanted to admit out loud. Because deep down, every damn rumor about them only made them more untouchable, more godlike.

And then there was that one rumor. The one that tore through the university like wildfire.

The gangbang story.

The most scandalous, dirtiest thing anyone had ever whispered, and yet nobody could stop talking about it.

Nobody could prove it. Nobody knew if it was just a story made up by someone bored, but fuck, if it had been real... if it had been real, then you weren't sure what was worse. The fact that people called it disgusting or the fact that it made your whole body clench with jealousy.

How fucking scandalous. How fucking disgusting.

And how fucking pathetic that every time you thought about it, your chest got tight, your mouth went dry, and all you could think was: if that rumor had ever been true, if those four had ever taken a girl like that, then why the fuck wasn't it you?

"Someone caught Jake making out with a girl from Tourism!"

"Someone said Sunghoon's been fucking that sophomore from another building!"

"Have you heard that Jay is smoking at the back of the building while the TA sucks him off? Geez, what a lucky girl."

"And that cheerleader said Heeseung likes girls who can spread their legs wide!"

Your hands gripped your pen tighter, knuckles turning pale, jaw clenched as the chatter bled into your ears. Every fucking sentence was the same—different girls, different places, different dirty details—but the same four names, always the same four names. It was exhausting, it was maddening, and it was starting to chew holes into your focus.

"Stop it," you hissed finally, snapping your head up to face the group of girls clustered near the corner. "There are people here who are trying to study. Maybe try doing that instead of running your mouths about men and their sex lives. Do you have no shame?"

The table went quiet, their smirks twitching as they shared quick glances between themselves. One girl rolled her eyes and muttered something under her breath, but none of them pushed back. They just leaned back into their seats, whispering low but not low enough, as if they wanted you to hear every giggle, every stifled laugh.

You tried to turn back to your notes, but your pulse wouldn't settle. You're not annoyed that they were gossipping.

You were jealous.

Jealous that every rumor had someone else's name attached to it. Jealous that every filthy story, every detail, every moan that lived in their words belonged to another girl and not to you.

Fuck! It's unfair! It's so unfair! Why was it always someone else? Why did it have to be another girl they kissed, another girl they bent over, another girl who got to hear their voices from fucking?

You exhaled sharply through your nose, trying to drown it out, trying to stay steady. But every word of theirs came back to the same thing. Their dicks. Their moans. Their fucking. And all it did was remind you that you hadn't had a single taste of any of it, not even once.

Fuck it. When was it supposed to be your turn?

You tried. God, you fucking tried. You started dragging yourself to every fraternity party you caught wind of, even ones you had no business going to, all in hopes of catching just one of their eyes. You would push through sweaty bodies and strobe lights, pretending to dance, pretending to laugh, only to learn that Jay had already gotten bored and left long before you even stepped in. The disappointment would choke you, but you still kept showing up. 

Like some desperate puppy waiting for scraps.

You started waxing everything, every inch of your body, until your skin burned. You bought bottles of expensive perfume you couldn't even afford, ones that clung to your clothes and hair until it made you dizzy. You thought maybe, they liked girls who smelled clean, who looked like they had their shit together, but deep down you knew it didn't matter. Because how would they ever notice when you didn't even have the guts to open your mouth?

"Uh... do you know, like, how to talk to Heeseung?" you asked, trying to keep your voice casual while your eyes betrayed you, glued to the tall figure across the library.

He was sliding books off a shelf, completely unaware of the way your whole body went tense, your throat dry, your palms slick with sweat. Even from a distance you swore you could smell him, that same maddening warmth that clung to him whenever he walked past.

Your friend blinked, eyebrows raised as though she couldn't believe the words had actually come out of your mouth. "About what? You know damn well he doesn't talk to girls in public. People only talk about how he fucks them hard and then disappears. No contact. Nothing. Ever." She scoffed, dismissing it with a wave of her hand, before her gaze sharpened on you. A smirk tugged at her lips and she let out a loud laugh that made your ears burn. "Wait. Don't tell me you're actually planning something. You think you're gonna get him to fuck you?"

Her laughter made your eye twitch. You felt her gaze scan over you, up and down, picking apart everything you were, everything you weren't. She reached over, patting your shoulder in a way that only made you feel smaller.

"It's okay to dream big," she said, lips curving into a cruel little smile, "but let me shatter that for you. He would never, okay? Hmm?"

Something in your chest snapped at her words. Anger rose, clinging to your ribs until you thought you'd choke on it. How fucking dare she? How dare she look at you like that, laugh at you like you weren't even worth a second glance? How high did she think of herself, how low did she think of you?

But you swallowed it, burying the sharpness down where no one could see. You curved your lips into a laugh that sounded almost real, almost lighthearted, even though your nails dug into your palm under the table. "Silly you," you said sweetly, tilting your head like it didn't sting, "I was just trying to interview him for sports journalism. Don't get too talkative about fucking, though. It sounds like you're reflecting your own frustrations."

You smiled brighter, watching her expression falter for just a second before she scoffed again and turned back to her notes.

You needed to think. You needed to dig deeper into yourself, to find a way, any way, because you refused to lose. You refused to accept being invisible.

Every single morning became a routine.

You would drag yourself out of bed before the sun even touched the sky, forcing your heavy eyes open as you stood in front of the mirror. You styled your hair until not a single strand was out of place, you layered makeup carefully until your reflection looked like someone worth noticing, and you scrubbed your skin until it stung, until it shone smooth under your fingertips. Your closet was picked apart daily, clothes scattered across your floor, until you found the outfit that made you feel like you could walk down the hall with your head high, like you were worth a second glance.

And every time, when the clock struck the hour you knew they would be walking down the hallway, you stood ready. Shoulders straight, steps measured, chest tight with nerves as you waited for them to pass. You tried to look effortless, confident, perfect. But it shattered you every single time when none of them looked your way. Their eyes stayed forward, their voices low between themselves, their expressions unchanged as if you were nothing more than air. Your hands would grow limp at your sides, your confidence bleeding out of you as you glanced behind your shoulder, mouth parted slightly, helplessly staring at their broad shoulders moving further and further away from you.

The frustration followed you. At night, you laid in bed with their faces behind your eyelids, your thighs pressed together until you couldn't stand it anymore.

You touched yourself with the thought of them, not just one but all four, surrounding you, using you, making you theirs in every filthy way you had imagined. You came undone to fantasies of their hands pulling your hair, their voices groaning against your ear, your body stretched thin for them, and the pleasure left you gasping, sweating, shaking in the dark. Yet as soon as it ended, as soon as your heartbeat slowed, you already hated yourself. Because no matter how hard you wanted it, morning would come again, and the cycle would repeat. You'd wake up early, fix yourself to perfection, pass them in the hallway, and watch them ignore you.

The days blurred into each other, but the whispers always found you. Another rumor spread like fire, another story about them with another girl, and it burned you alive from the inside.

You wanted to scream at how unfair it was, how humiliating it felt that you couldn't stop aching for something you might never get. Sometimes you almost laughed at yourself, at how pathetic you must have looked, stuck between jealousy and desperation, unable to let go.

"Wow, what perfume do you use? You smell so good!" Your classmate's voice cut through your thoughts one day, her hand brushing casually across your arm. "And your lotion too? Your skin feels amazing."

The touch startled you, and the question almost made you snap. "It's just Victoria's Secret," you hissed automatically, jerking your hand slightly to free yourself. But the moment you saw her surprised face, you realized what you had done, and quickly masked it with a sweet smile. "Sorry, I'm in a bad mood, forgive me? It's Velvet Petals. But I exfoliate with Dove first. That's probably why."

Her lips curved into a bright smile, her eyes scanning you with something almost admiring. "It's okay! You look really, really, really pretty, you know? And you're so sweet. I just hope you don't fall into the wrong hands."

The way she said it made your stomach twist. You knew exactly who she was talking about, and the mocking tone in her voice when she mentioned "wrong hands" made it worse. Those fuckboys. That's what they all called them, as if the four of them weren't the most wanted men on campus, as if everyone's mouths didn't water at the thought of being ruined by them.

You held your smile, but inside, the anger returned, pulsing hotter than before. They all thought they were above you. They all thought they could talk about them like that and laugh at you for wanting something they secretly wanted too. They were liars, hypocrites, hiding their hunger under judgment while you carried yours openly in your chest.

You pressed your lips together, leaning closer to her so your words came out soft, almost playful. "Maybe falling into the wrong hands isn't always such a bad thing."

Her eyes widened slightly, confusion flickering across her face as you sat back again, smiling politely like nothing had happened.

But in your head, the thought echoed, louder, heavier, filthier.

If those hands were theirs, you would fall gladly.

The party was dragging, the music pounding but lifeless, the people are drunk but boring. You wondered for the tenth time why you even bothered showing up.

The whole campus had been buzzing about this night, everyone whispering about how it would be wild because they would be here. But the most boring part of it all was exactly that—they weren't.

No sign of the four men everyone was expecting. And for that, you hated yourself a little. You hated that you had wasted another expensive outfit, another spritz of your favorite perfume, another hour in front of the mirror just to sit there and look pretty for nothing.

Your cheek rested lazily against your hand as you swirled the watered-down alcohol in your glass. Your eyes lingered on the girl across the room, perched on the couch, laughing with a group of guys who had crowded her like she was the crown jewel of the night. She looked so damn proud of herself, flipping her hair and soaking up their attention like it was worth something.

You almost felt bad for her—because those men? God, they were fucking ugly. The kind of guys who had nothing going for them except being loud and drunk enough to fill her space. And she was pretty, too pretty for the trash sitting beside her, too wasted to notice she could do better.

You sighed, your eyes dropping back down to your glass, watching the last pieces of ice melt into nothing. Maybe you should leave. Maybe you should give up, call it another wasted night, drag yourself back to bed where you could rot under the covers and imagine what it would feel like if the four men ever actually noticed you.

"Hi."

The single word pierced through the noise around you. Your breath caught, and you nearly threw your glass across the table. Your back went ramrod straight as you turned, your heart slamming against your ribs so hard it hurt. When your eyes landed on the figures behind you, everything inside of you went still before spiraling into chaos.

Jake. Sunghoon.

Two of them. Standing there. Talking. To you.

Your throat closed, your tongue heavy, your thoughts shattering into broken pieces as if the universe had finally played its sick joke on you. What the fuck was happening? Jake and Sunghoon—out of everyone in this crowded room—were standing in front of you, looking at you, waiting for you.

"H-Hi?" The word slipped out, so small, so shaky you almost cringed at yourself.

Jake's smile spread, his gaze running over you like he was unwrapping you with his eyes. He didn't hide the way he lingered on the pink silk dress clinging to your body or the way his eyes glinted when he caught the gems glittering delicately across your skin. The weight of his stare made your thighs press together without you even thinking about it.

"Where's your friends?" He shifted his hands casually into his pockets, flashing a smile. "I organized this party, you know. I almost felt bad seeing you sitting here alone."

You swallowed hard, the words tangling on your tongue. This was the moment you'd been waiting for, the one you had begged for, dreamed of, touched yourself over. And yet, your body betrayed you, trembling as you almost flinched under the weight of their presence.

"M-My friends a-are... uh... there." Your shaky hand lifted, pointing weakly toward the dance floor, and the second you did it you wanted to melt into the floor and disappear.

Sunghoon's low laugh broke the air. He leaned forward slightly, his dark eyes fixed on you as if he could see straight through every flimsy layer of composure you were trying to hold together. "And they exclude you? What bad friends you have."

The closeness of him made your brain dissolve. His perfume, his cologne, the sharp tang of alcohol still lingering on his lips—God, you wanted to taste it, to drown in it. He didn't even touch you, but his nearness was enough to make your body tense, your lips parting before you realized it.

"Want to join us?" Sunghoon asked smoothly.

"W-Where?" you squeaked.

"Well, we can drink outside—" Sunghoon started, but Jake cut him off with a voice that left no room for argument.

"At Heeseung's private room." His tone was steady, certain, his stare locked on you, waiting for your reaction.

For a split second, Sunghoon's eyes widened at Jake's bluntness. You caught the quick glance he shot him, an unspoken message passing between them, before his smirk slid back into place. He didn't need to argue. He didn't need to say a thing. Because the moment the words "Heeseung's private room" left Jake's mouth, your body had already betrayed you.

Your lips trembled, your voice breaking into a whisper. "Yes."

And there it was—the one word that sealed everything.

Jake's smirk deepened, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he tilted his head ever so slightly, studying you like you had just handed yourself over. Sunghoon's grin widened, his teeth flashing as he straightened up, amusement flickering in his gaze.

"Good girl," Jake murmured under his breath.

Your chest tightened, your breath caught, and every ounce of you screamed that this was it. The moment you had been waiting for, the moment you had dreamed of, the moment you could never come back from.

And you didn't fucking care.

The door creaked open and Heeseung froze at the threshold, his tall frame stiffening instantly as his eyes landed on the scene.

Jake had one hand tangled in your hair, his cock buried between your lips, his head thrown back as he groaned through clenched teeth. Sunghoon was draped across your back, his chest pressing heavily against you, his hand pinching and rolling your nipples mercilessly while his lips brushed your skin, leaving icy trails that made you shiver.

Your body was positioned like some offering—hands and knees spread like a cat, ass swaying slightly with every thrust of Jake's hips.

"Seriously?" Heeseung's voice was carrying irritation. He shut the door, though he didn't walk away.

The noise made you whimper, muffled around Jake's cock, the vibration of your moan sending shudders up his spine. Jake gritted his teeth and hissed through a laugh, thrusting harder until the blunt head of his dick slammed against the back of your throat. He held you there with one firm grip in your hair, pushing until your nose bumped against the hard plane of his stomach. Your eyes watered, your chest heaved, but the desperation inside you drowned out every thought of resistance.

It hadn't started like this. At first, it was only drinks, games, laughter and teasing, until Jake leaned forward and suggested body shots. You hadn't even hesitated; the heat of their attention had already melted through you, and Jake had almost laughed at how quickly you had fallen into their hands.

And now, here you were, drooling and choking on his cock while Sunghoon twisted your nipples until your whole body jerked with every pinch.

"Your favorite member is here," Jake taunted, his gaze dropping down to you, then flicking toward the figure standing silently by the door. His smirk widened as he forced another thrust into your mouth. "Bro, she's been asking where the fuck you were. You took so long, she already came in her panties just from Sunghoon teasing her tits."

Heat shot through your face as the humiliation wrapped around you. Tears streamed freely down your cheeks, staining the gems near your eyes, but none of it stopped you from flattening your tongue against the base of his cock, licking every inch you could reach while your throat spasmed around him. The shame twisted into a  darker, sharper, more intoxicating feeling than you ever imagined.

This was it. This was the dream. The one you'd fucked yourself to in silence night after night, the one you had burned for. And now you were living it, choking, moaning, tears streaking your face, every filthy detail of it everything you had ever wanted.

You couldn't see Heeseung clearly from where you knelt, but you felt him. His gaze was heavy, dragging over you, making your pussy clench at nothing. You knew he was watching the way your lips stretched around Jake's cock, the way your chest heaved as Sunghoon tortured your nipples, the way you looked so fucked out and desperate already.

"The rumors about us are already spreading, and you have the guts to do this?" Heeseung's voice finally cut through with restrained anger. He stepped closer, his shoes quiet against the floor until his shadow stretched across you. You could feel his eyes on your crying, messy face, and it only made your cunt throb harder, soaking your panties.

Jake laughed through a groan, his hips grinding against your lips as his cock slid deeper. Sunghoon joined him with a low chuckle, his cold mouth pressing into your nape as his fingers tugged the straps of your dress down your shoulders. The silk slipped easily, baring your chest fully to Heeseung's view, your nipples stiff and swollen as Sunghoon's thumb and finger rolled them until you moaned around Jake's length.

"Come on," Sunghoon murmured against your ear, his voice is taunting. "You know we always love sharing." His lips traced your skin as his hand pushed your dress lower, exposing more, leaving nothing for modesty.

Heeseung's jaw tensed, but his eyes betrayed him. He couldn't look away. His cock stirred against his pants, hardening slowly with every sound that left you, with every pathetic little whimper muffled by Jake's cock. He watched the tears streak down your face, the way your hand lifted shakily from the floor, reaching for him.

Your fingers trembled as they hovered against his thigh, then slid higher until they brushed over the hard bulge in his pants. Your eyes lifted toward him, glassy, half-lidded, drowning in tears and lust, staring directly into his.

Heeseung exhaled sharply, his composure cracking.

And when your palm pressed firmer against him, stroking lightly through the fabric, his cock throbbed in response.

Your back arched off when Heeseung's hands moved to his belt. The sight alone was enough to make your chest tighten and your pussy throb, your body reacting with a hunger you couldn't disguise. Sunghoon caught it immediately, his laugh was low against your ear, mocking the way you looked so desperate without shame. He shifted off you, giving Heeseung room.

"Does Jay know about this?" Heeseung asked, his eyes shifting toward Jake and Sunghoon as if demanding an explanation even while his hands were already pulling at his clothes.

Jake's grin widened, still slick with your spit as he slid his cock from your mouth. "It's a surprise," he answered simply, as if that explained everything. His hand squeezed the back of your neck one last time before releasing you, and your body slumped against the mattress, chest heaving, throat raw. But before you could even recover, Heeseung's hands pressed against you, guiding your body flat onto your back, his touch so commanding you followed without question.

The world tilted when the fabric of your dress slipped from your shoulders, your body fully bared under their stares. Sunghoon leaned close again, his nose brushing your cheek as his voice dipped. "Look at those pretty eyes." His words curled into your skin, and you whimpered before turning toward him, your lips crashing into his. The kiss was messy, desperate, your mouth opening wide for him, your tongue tangling with his like you could pull the heat out of him and swallow it whole.

Jake's fingers hooked your panties and dragged them down your legs, his eyes glued to the slick mess between your thighs. The moment he saw your pussy clenching and unclenching around nothing, a growl broke from his throat.

Heeseung's response was just as guttural, his eyes narrowing as he dropped down onto his knees beside Jake, their shoulders brushing as if they were competing for the same prize. Without hesitation, they lifted your legs, spreading you shamelessly open, one of your thighs resting on each of their broad shoulders.

Sunghoon didn't let you breathe. His mouth consumed yours, his tongue pressing harder, his teeth tugging your bottom lip as his hand cradled your jaw, keeping you locked against him. You barely managed a moan into his mouth when the first hot lick dragged across your clit, the sudden sensation shooting up your spine that you tore yourself away from Sunghoon's kiss. Your eyes flew down, wide and dazed, only to meet Heeseung's sharp gaze staring up at you while his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking with deliberate, teasing pulls.

Your mouth fell open, your chest rising and falling rapidly, but you didn't dare blink. You couldn't miss the sight of his face buried between your legs, his tongue flattening against your sensitive bud and flicking so slowly it bordered on torture. Your thighs shook, trying to close, but his grip on your hips was unyielding.

"Hey," Sunghoon muttered, his fingers squeezing your chin until your eyes snapped back to him. His gaze was dark, narrowed, a flicker of jealousy twisting in it. "I was the one who found you. Give me some attention."

Your whimpers came small, but you still obeyed, your hand trembling as he guided it down between his legs. The hard ridge of his cock was burning against the fabric of his pants. The moment your palm pressed against him, your body shivered from the weight of him.

They were massive. You had heard the whispers from other girls, but no rumor had prepared you for the truth. Your fingers wrapped around him, squeezing gently through the fabric, and Sunghoon's lips parted, his breath catching as his hips rocked into your touch.

"Fuck," he groaned, head dropping to your shoulder, his teeth grazing your skin as if your touch alone was enough to push him toward the edge.

And then Jake bit down on your inner thigh, hard enough to make you cry out, his tongue following the sting with a wet, sucking kiss that left your skin marked. Heeseung's lips abandoned your clit, only to press lower, his tongue flattening against your dripping entrance before slurping noisily at the wetness pooling there. The sound was obscene, messy, and you moaned louder than you ever had, the combination of Jake's teeth marking your thighs and Heeseung's mouth devouring you unraveling every last thread of composure you had.

"Shh." Sunghoon's voice was ragged as his hand pressed against your jaw again, his hips grinding into your palm while his other hand fumbled with his belt. His pants dropped down his thighs, and when he freed himself, your eyes widened, your mouth watering instantly at the sight. His cock was flushed and heavy, the tip glistening with pre-cum, so thick it almost made your stomach flutter with fear.

Your legs were trembling uncontrollably, but you couldn't close them, not when Jake and Heeseung had you pinned wide open, their mouths swapping positions greedily between your clit and your entrance.

Jake was hungrier, reckless with the way his tongue plunged into you, his lips sucking against your folds so loudly it drowned out even the bass from the music downstairs. You could feel him moan against you, his hands gripping your thighs tighter, his whole face buried as if he wanted to drown in your pussy.

"Say ah," Sunghoon knelt in front of you, his cock gripped tightly in his hand. You obeyed instantly, your lips falling open, your eyes wide and locked on his face.

The expression he wore was enough to make your stomach twist—his brows drawn tight, his lips parted as if he were biting back a curse, his gaze focused entirely on your mouth as though nothing else in the world existed.

"So eager," he whispered hoarsely, his cock brushing against your lips as pre-cum smeared across them. "Fuck."

Heeseung rose slowly from between your thighs, his lips and chin slick with your wetness, his chest lifting heavily with each breath. His gaze drifted down over your trembling body, then to Sunghoon's cock hovering dangerously close to your lips, before his large hands moved to your chest. The weight of his touch was deliberate, kneading the softness of your breasts, his thumbs dragging over your nipples until they tightened again under his attention.

The combination was unbearable, your body jerking at every angle, twitching against their hands and mouths as if you no longer had control over it. Sunghoon's sudden pace had your cheeks hollowing, his cock stretching your lips as he thrust with low, restrained groans.

At the same time, Heeseung's fingers twisted your nipples mercilessly, sharp flicks that sent heat rushing to your core, and Jake's tongue was buried inside you, fucking your entrance with wet, eager strokes. Each movement pulled you in a different direction, your body caught in the middle of all three of them until you felt yourself unraveling at the seams.

Your head was spinning, dizzy from the sensation. The world tilted and blurred, your muffled moans spilling out against Sunghoon's cock, your tears streaking down your cheeks. It was overwhelming, but in the best way, better than anything you had ever experienced, better than every fumbling encounter that left you aching and unsatisfied.

This was hunger given form, this was desire being fed by three men who knew exactly how to break you. Every flick of Heeseung's fingers, every thrust of Jake's tongue, every push of Sunghoon's cock made your stomach coil tighter and tighter, until the knot inside you threatened to snap.

And then it did.

You came so hard it tore a strangled cry out of your throat, your body convulsing with the force of it. The orgasm crashed into you violently, your back arching off the bed, your legs trembling as Jake's hands clamped down on your thighs to keep you open.

You almost bit down on Sunghoon from the shock of it, your mouth clenching, your throat spasming, and he pulled back with a sharp hiss, his hand replacing himself on your lips to keep you from choking. But Jake didn't stop; he didn't even pause. His tongue twisted deep inside you, lapping greedily at everything you gave him, his head moving side to side as if he wanted to drink you dry. He held you down through every wave, prolonging the orgasm until you thought your body might tear apart from how hard you were shaking.

"Fuck, ah—fuck, shit," Sunghoon cursed above you, his voice breaking into a groan. His grip tightened on your jaw as his release hit suddenly, hot ropes of cum splattering across your face in quick, forceful bursts. Some streaked down your lips, some across your cheeks, and one stray spurt landed in your eye, stinging faintly but drowned out by the overwhelming tide of pleasure still wrecking your body.

You barely processed it, too lost in the pulsing aftershocks of your orgasm and the relentless flicks of Heeseung's thumbs still torturing your nipples. The sensation was too much, every nerve in your body stretched taut as Jake's mouth sealed back over your clit, his tongue circling lazily as he wanted to drag every last drop of climax from you.

Your sobs broke into gasps, your chest rising sharply, your face sticky with Sunghoon's cum, your throat raw from the moans you couldn't stop. And still, Heeseung's eyes stayed locked on you, darkly watching you writhe.

"I need to fuck her already," Heeseung finally muttered, already standing.

Jake stopped what he was doing and glared at him, his jaw clenched. "Who the fuck said you were gonna be first? I was the one who talked to her. I was the one who had her on her knees until now." His hands went to his shirt, ripping it over his head before shoving his pants down impatiently, his irritation burning through every motion.

Sunghoon sighed, throwing his head back, eyes half-lidded as he grabbed your shaky hand and wrapped it around his cock. "You two are always fighting about this shit," he muttered, ignoring the tension and letting you stroke him, his hips lifting slightly into your fist. His lashes fluttered shut as a low groan escaped him. "Fuck, that's it. Don't stop, baby. Just keep going. That's all I need."

"Fuck off," Heeseung snapped as he took a step closer. "You've both had enough time playing with her. I've been waiting, and I'm not standing here any longer."

Your eyes darted between them, your chest rising in short, desperate pulls of breath, before landing on Sunghoon again. He was still focused only on you, his hand over yours, guiding you up and down his thick cock. "Feels so fucking good," he groaned, his voice breaking, his neck exposed as his head fell back.

"That's why I get to be the first to fuck her," Jake shot back, standing tall now, his cock hard and throbbing against his stomach. His smirk was sharp, challenging. "You were late. I've been making her drip for me."

Sunghoon leaned closer to you, his breath hot against your ear, his lips brushing the corner of your jaw. "Ignore them, baby. Just focus on me." His other hand slid around your waist, tugging you closer until his lips pressed firmly against your neck. He kissed you hard, then nipped at your skin, his teeth dragging up to your jaw before biting again. You gasped at the sting, your hand stroking him faster, your wrist straining with the effort.

"Such a good girl," he moaned, his lips vibrating against your throat. His fingers slipped down your belly until they found your soaked pussy again, circling lazily around your entrance. The teasing pressure made you jolt, your moans tumbling out helplessly as he finally pushed one finger inside. Your walls clenched instantly, wrapping tight around him, and his sharp groan against your ear told you exactly how much he liked it. "So tight," he whispered, almost to himself, before sinking another finger inside.

"Sunghoon—" your voice broke, whimpering, the heat spreading too fast through your core as his hand worked inside you.

"Keep those pretty legs open for me, baby," he murmured, his lips dragging down to your shoulder, his teeth grazing the delicate skin. "Need to stretch this pussy for all of us. You want that, don't you? Want to take us all?"

Your only answer was a frantic nod, your lips trembling as your hand gripped his cock tighter, pumping him faster even as your own body shuddered from his fingers curling deep inside.

"You seem to be enjoying yourself too much, Sunghoon," Jake hissed, stepping forward. His hand shot out, pulling you roughly away from Sunghoon's grip.

You whined at the sudden loss, your body immediately protesting the absence of his fingers inside you.

"Shhh, darling," Jake cooed mockingly, wiping at your cum-stained face with his thumb before pressing his lips against yours in a hungry kiss. His mouth was demanding, tasting, his teeth nipping at your lower lip before pulling back with a smirk. "Me and Heeseung will make you feel so fucking good. You want that, don't you?"

"Yes," you whimpered without hesitation, nodding quickly, your desperation spilling through. You turned on your hands and knees before they could even tell you, body moving on instantly because you knew. You'd heard the whispers. You knew this was how Jake liked to fuck—rough, from behind, with no mercy. "Please."

Jake's laugh was low, almost breathless as he stared at your ass. "Fuck, you don't even need to be told. So hot like this." His palm cracked against your cheek, the sting making you moan as he spread you open with his hands.

Your eyes flicked up, catching Sunghoon again—he was watching with his lip caught between his teeth, his hand wrapped tight around his cock, stroking lazily as his gaze devoured you.

And then your eyes trailed higher, locking with Heeseung, who was standing in front of you, holding the base of his thick cock as if offering it to you. You opened your mouth instantly, ready to take him, but instead he grabbed your chin, tilting your head until you were forced to look up at him.

You sucked in a sharp breath when Jake's tip pressed against your soaked pussy, your entire body stiffening at the stretch before he even entered. His grip on your waist was bruising, anchoring you in place.

"Shit," Jake groaned under his breath, his voice breaking into a growl as he pushed in deeper. "How long has it been since you've been fucked like this? You're tight as fuck."

Your whimpers filled the air, your eyes locked on Heeseung's as he squished your cheeks between his large hand.

"Talk," Heeseung demanded, his eyes burning down into you. "Don't just sit there like a pretty little toy. Tell us what you want. Say it."

The moment he said it, Jake shoved his cock all the way inside you, the sudden fullness making your head drop forward with a cry.

"Moan louder. Scream our names. Tell us what to do to you," Heeseung ordered, pushing you to the edge as Jake's thrusts started to slam into you from behind.

"I—" you stammered through gasps, your body buckling under the rhythm. "I've been dreaming of this since first year." The confession tumbled out without filter, every word dripping with desperation.

Your honesty ripped a sound from both Jake and Sunghoon, low groans that mixed with the slick sound of your body being fucked. Heeseung's gaze hardened, his nostrils flaring as his jaw clenched. Jake's thrusts grew harsher, his hips snapping against you with punishing speed.

"W-want all of you to use me—fuck me, please!" you squealed, your voice cracking as Jake's cock found that spot inside you and hit it mercilessly.

Jake's laugh was cruel, his words spilling out between moans. "Yeah? That's why you gave in so fucking easy? Thought we'd have to drag it out of you, but you just spread those legs like the slut you are." His hand clamped down on your arms, dragging you back onto his cock as he fucked you harder, each thrust shaking your body forward.

Tears pooled again in your eyes as you shook your head weakly, your voice breaking between cries. "N-not a slut! D-don't call me that—ah, f-fuck! Jake!"

But he only thrust faster, slamming into you, groaning at how you clenched so tightly around him the harder he degraded you.

"Yeah?" Jake's voice dropped to a whisper, his lips brushing against your ear, his breath hot and ragged. "Then why the fuck are you here like this? Why are you dripping on me if you're not exactly what I called you?" His thrusts grew erratic, pounding straight into the softest spot inside you, making your knees tremble, making your nails dig into the sheets until your knuckles turned white.

You couldn't even answer him at first, because the way he was fucking you made your thoughts scatter, your mouth falling open as broken sounds spilled out. But then Heeseung was on you again, his hand fisting in your hair, pulling your head back so you had no choice but to meet his eyes.

"Come on," Heeseung murmured. His thumb brushed over your trembling bottom lip before tightening his grip on your hair, forcing your mouth open slightly. "Ignore him. Tell us what you need. Use that pretty voice."

Your chest heaved, your lashes fluttering, every nerve in your body screaming for more. "Want you—" your voice cracked, "want you all to fill m-my pussy up." The words came out broken, but loud enough for all of them to hear. Your body arched as another wave of Jake's thrusts sent shocks of heat through you, and you sobbed through your moan. "G-give me your biggest load, make me your toy for tonight—ahhh!"

Your scream broke off when Jake's hand slipped down, his fingers pinching your clit hard before slapping it over and over, sharp little bursts of pain crashing into the overwhelming pleasure. The mix had your eyes rolling back into your skull, your mouth falling open as drool slipped from the corner of your lips.

"Yes! Fuck, yes!" you squealed, your voice hoarse, your body jerking helplessly as the coil in your stomach twisted tight, tighter than before. Your thighs shook violently, your legs threatening to give out beneath you if it weren't for Jake's grip anchoring you in place. Every nerve screamed release, but he didn't stop, his cock drilling into you, his fingers punishing your clit until you were certain you'd break.

"Where do you want it?" Jake grunted against your neck, his thrusts almost brutal now, each one stealing the air from your lungs. "Where do you want me to cum, huh? Say it."

Heeseung tugged your hair harder, forcing your eyes to meet his again, his dark gaze pinning you as if daring you to answer wrong. Sunghoon's low groans filled the room behind them, the sound of his fist gliding over his cock only making the moment heavier.

Your lips trembled as you tried to form the words, every part of you shaking, drowning in pleasure, drowning in them.

"Anywhere," you gasped. "In my mouth, in my face, in my body, in my pussy—just fucking cum anywhere in me!"

"Fuck!" Jake groaned. His palm came down on your clit with a sharp slap that had your legs trembling so violently, your pussy clenching down on him with merciless tightness. The shock sent your body into another wave, your scream cutting through the air as you came hard around his cock, your walls fluttering, soaking him with everything you had.

The way you pulsed around him dragged him over the edge, his hips snapping forward with reckless speed until his cock throbbed and spilled, his hot cum spilling deep inside you in thick spurts that made your stomach twist with satisfaction. The moment you felt him paint your walls, you let out a long, broken moan, almost sobbing at how good it felt, how badly you'd needed it.

Heeseung finally let go of your hair, stepping back just far enough to watch you crumble under Jake. His eyes were locked on the mess between your legs, on the sight of Jake's cock still buried in you while his cum leaked out in slow, obscene drips.

His hand slid down his abdomen until he was stroking himself openly, his jaw tight, his breathing heavy. The look in his eyes told you he was seconds away from joining, and that thought made your clit twitch with aftershocks.

Sunghoon's chest rose and fell sharply as he leaned back, still stroking his cock at a steady rhythm, his gaze locked on you. His lips parted, his breathing uneven.

Jake's body eventually stilled, his forehead damp with sweat, his chest heaving with each breath as he looked down at your trembling frame. He pulled back slowly, letting his cock slide free from your swollen pussy. The moment he did, his cum began to spill out in a steady stream, dripping down your thighs and pooling between them.

He had never finished that hard before—he knew it, and from the stunned silence, so did the others. Even Heeseung's brows had furrowed at the sight, as if he couldn't believe how much you were leaking.

Your eyes fluttered half-lidded, your lashes wet with tears and sweat, your breaths shallow and uneven. Your body was heavy, limp from the storm that had wracked you, but somewhere deep inside, you found the strength to move your fingers, twitching weakly against the sheets. You weren't done. You couldn't be. You wanted more—you needed more. Your body begged for it, trembling but eager, your pussy clenching around nothing as if calling for another cock to fill you.

You forced your eyes open again, vision blurred with sweat and tears. And then—

"You're into this shit again?"

That voice. Deep, familiar voice, it cut through everything—the ringing in your ears, the haze in your mind, the pounding of your own heart.

Your pussy clenched instantly, as if your body recognized him before your brain could, a sharp rush of need flooding through you at just the sound.

"Took you long enough, Jay," Sunghoon muttered with a crooked smile, though his hand didn't stop stroking himself.

Jake looked up too, his chest still heaving, his hand dragging across his sweaty forehead, annoyance flickering across his features. Heeseung paused mid-stroke, his gaze narrowing, his jaw flexing as his attention shifted from you to the man at the door.

And you—your throat went dry, your lips parted, your heart slamming painfully against your ribs. Jay was here. Finally!

A soft, broken whine left your lips as your body shifted toward him. Jay's eyes sharpened, his expression was unreadable as he stepped fully inside, closing the door behind him. His gaze swept over the room, over Jake still breathless, Sunghoon stroking himself lazily, Heeseung looming above you, and finally, it landed on you—sweaty, trembling, your face flushed and messy, your eyes wide and glassy as they reached for him.

He didn't move immediately. He just stood there, silent, his jaw tight, demanding the others explain without him saying a word.

But Heeseung didn't give him the chance. He gripped your legs firmly, dragging you down the bed until you were flush beneath him, your body spread and waiting. Jay's eyes narrowed as he caught the sight of your hand twitching toward him, so close yet so far, the longing in your movement almost pathetic in its honesty.

Before you could call out, Heeseung pinned your arms above your head, his fingers curling around your wrists with unrelenting strength. His mouth brushed the shell of your ear, his voice low and taunting. "No more waiting. I've already held back long enough."

And then without warning, he pushed his cock all the way into you in one brutal thrust.

Your scream ripped through the air, your body arching violently as he bottomed out, stretching you so suddenly you could hardly think. The slick of Jake's cum inside you made it easier, made it wetter, but it didn't stop the sharp, overwhelming sting of being filled again so completely, so roughly.

"Fuck—yes," Heeseung groaned, his forehead pressing briefly to your temple as he steadied himself, though his hips didn't slow. "Need to bury my dick inside this pussy before anyone else tries to stop me. If I wait another second, I'll lose my goddamn mind."

He began to pound into you without mercy, each thrust shaking your body, pushing you deeper into the mattress. The sound of it mixed with his growls and your cries until it was all one desperate rhythm. His pace was punishing, desperate, as if he needed to erase the traces Jake left behind, like he needed to make sure you remembered him the most.

Your eyes flickered open through the haze, and there's Jay.

He was still standing where he'd closed the door, but now his chest rose heavily. He was watching you, not Heeseung, not Jake or Sunghoon, but you—his gaze locked on your face, on the way your lips trembled around moans, on the way your eyes begged for him even while another man fucked you senseless.

The sight of him like that—stoic, his stare pinning you harder than Heeseung's grip ever could—made your walls spasm tight around Heeseung's cock. You couldn't move forward, couldn't reach Jay the way you wanted, Heeseung's weight pinning you down just as Jake had before. It was maddening, being fucked this hard while Jay stood so close yet untouchable.

"Look at you," Heeseung groaned, his pace ruthless, his cock battering your soaked cunt. "You're dripping, squeezing me like you never want me to leave. You love it—you fucking love it."

And he wasn't wrong.

Your mind was spiraling, torn between the brutal pleasure flooding your body and the heat of Jay's eyes locked on you.

Heeseung's hand slid up the side of your face, his fingers pressing into your cheek as he tilted your head toward him. The moment your lips brushed against his, you melted, kissing him back feverishly, moaning into his mouth as he swallowed every sound. His thrusts didn't falter, his cock dragging mercilessly against that spot inside you that had you unraveling so quickly, another orgasm barreling through your overstimulated body before you could even brace yourself. Your legs shook violently, your cries muffled by his mouth as you shattered around him again.

Jake, still hard and needy, didn't wait any longer. He stepped closer, ignoring Jay's looming silence, his cock already heavy and dripping. Sunghoon followed, stroking himself lazily, his smirk curling as he looked down at your messy face and trembling body. Heeseung adjusted his body and hold, his hand locking tightly around your waist as he slowed just enough to grind into you deliberately, rolling his hips in a way that pressed cruelly against your swollen clit and that spongy spot inside, teasing you, forcing more whimpers from your lips even as your body tried to recover.

When Jake and Sunghoon moved to either side of your head, you reacted instantly. Both your hands reached out to wrap around them, your fingers straining around their girth. A muffled moan escaped you, your eyes fluttering, as Sunghoon leaned lower, his hand sliding to your breast, kneading it roughly.

The sensation made you gasp, your lips parting, and Jake took the opportunity to rub his cock against your tongue. You sighed in bliss, your throat vibrating as you licked the tip, your saliva mixing with the sticky fluid still clinging to him from earlier. You sucked eagerly, slurping him down before switching, letting Sunghoon feel your tongue glide along the underside of his length, licking from his base to his leaking tip. All the while, Heeseung's thrusts grew sharper, pounding harder, each one jarring your body as he lost the battle with his own restraint.

"Fuck, you really wanted this, huh?" Sunghoon groaned, watching your lips wrap around him before sliding free. His hand tangled in your hair, guiding you lower, feeding himself into your mouth as his hips rolled slowly, deliberately. "Moaning with three cocks on you, and enjoying every second of it."

Your eyes watered as you let him push deeper, your throat tightening, but the messy desperation in your moans proved his words right. You pulled off with a wet gasp, kissing the head of his cock, smearing saliva across it before whispering against him.

"Love your cock... so much," you breathed, your lips brushing the tip, your eyes flicking immediately past him—toward Jay. That gnawing ache inside you swelled, and before you could stop yourself, your whine tumbled out. "Is Jay not gonna join?"

The room stilled at your words.

Jake chuckled dryly, tugging your wrist tighter around his shaft before thrusting into your hand with rough, impatient strokes. "You've got three cocks already and still not enough for you?" His voice dropped lower, his pace quickening as he fucked into your fist. "Can't even handle us together, but you're begging for more. God, you're insatiable."

Heeseung growled low in his throat, his thrusts growing faster, harsher, punishing you for even speaking Jay's name. Sunghoon hissed through his teeth as your grip on him tightened, his thumb brushing your spit-slicked lips.

"S-sorry!" you squeaked, your back arching violently as the three of them claimed every inch of your body with greedy, unrelenting hands. The sensations collided into each other, overwhelming, making it impossible to tell where one touch ended and another began.

Your skin burned under their palms, every squeeze, every slap, every tug forcing your body to twitch and your chest to heave with broken sobs of pleasure.

"Focus on us, you fucking bitch," Heeseung growled, dangerous enough to make your cunt clench so tight around him that his hips stuttered. He cursed, gripping your waist harder, his cock slamming into you with renewed force, each thrust demanding your full attention, demanding that you forget everything but him, but them.

Your eyes rolled back, your lips trembling, but you couldn't stop glancing toward Jay, couldn't stop feeling that magnetic pull toward his stare.

Jake grunted, his hand tangling roughly in your hair, yanking your head toward him as his cock brushed against your lips again. "Ignore him. You hear me? He's not the one inside you right now—we are. So open your fucking mouth and focus," his cockhead smearing across your tongue before pushing in, forcing your throat to stretch around him again. The taste of him mixed with the mess already dripping down your chin, and you moaned around his length, gagging slightly when he pushed deeper, his hips jerking at the sound.

Sunghoon, never content to let the others take more than him, pressed closer, his fingers pinching your nipple until you whined. "That's right. You're ours tonight, baby. All ours."

His hand slid lower, spreading you wider for Heeseung's relentless thrusts, his fingers brushing your clit in circles that made you sob.

Your words came out slurred. "Y-yours! All yours! F-fuck—I can't—ahh, I can't take it—"

Heeseung cut you off with a growl, thrusting deeper, harder, the bed frame slamming into the wall with each movement. "Yes, you can, slut. You'll take everything I give you." Your walls clenched even tighter around him, milking his cock.

"I'm not a fucking slut!" The protest tore from your throat just as another orgasm ripped through you, your body spasming violently.

Your legs tried to slam shut against the unbearable pleasure, but Jake and Sunghoon caught them instantly, spreading you wider, keeping you open, holding you there as Heeseung continued pounding into you mercilessly. Your moan stretched high, long, broken in its desperation as tears streamed down your face.

Heeseung pulled out abruptly, your cunt fluttering around nothing, before plunging three of his fingers inside you. The sudden stretch made your entire body jolt upward, your scream breaking into sobs as he fucked his fingers into you with a brutal pace. His palm pressed hard against your clit with every thrust, his thumb flicking over the swollen bud, making your vision blur and your mind scatter.

Your body shook violently, your head thrashing from side to side, your voice rising in hysterical sobs that filled the room. "Stop! S-stop! I'm gonna—I'm go-going to pee! Stop, wait! Please, wait—!"

Your arms tried to push them off, tried to squirm free, but Jake and Sunghoon pinned you tighter, one hand on each wrist, one grip on each thigh, keeping you spread open for Heeseung's relentless assault.

Heeseung's eyes darkened, his jaw clenched as he kept driving into your pussy with his fingers, your slick coating his hand, dripping down his wrist, the sound of it loud and wet. His cock twitched angrily in his other hand as he stroked himself in slow pulls, groaning low in his chest. "Come on, sweetheart. Don't fight it. Let it out for us. Show us how much you need us."

Jake leaned closer, his lip caught between his teeth, his eyes fixed on the mess between your thighs. The obscene squelching filled his ears, making his cock ache again. "Fuck—listen to her pussy. She's about to—" His words cut off with a groan as his own hips rutted helplessly into the air.

Your high-pitched scream tore through the room as the dam inside you finally snapped. 

A gush of hot liquid burst from your pussy, splattering over your stomach, your thighs, the sheets beneath you, drenching Heeseung's hand and face as he ducked lower, moaning against the spray. The force of it made your ears ring, your vision blur, your body convulse helplessly.

It was humiliating, overwhelming, devastatingly good. You sobbed openly, your face slick with tears and spit, Sunghoon's cum already drying against your skin, and now your own release coating everything around you. Your body trembled uncontrollably, your legs twitching and kicking weakly until Jake and Sunghoon finally let them fall open to the side.

You curled inward, your arms wrapping protectively over your chest, your body folding small as though you could hide. But the sheets were soaked beneath you, the air heavy with the scent of sex, the room echoing with your broken cries.

"So good," Heeseung's lips parted against your soaked skin and licked at the mess you left on his face. His eyes fluttered shut, his strokes on his cock tightening, his hand gliding through the mixture of your slick and squirt.

"Get the fuck to the side. I'm going to taste it." Jake's hand already twitched toward you, greedy and impatient.

Sunghoon's laugh came rough and breathless, his chest rising and falling as he lazily stroked himself, his eyes locked on the wet ruin between your thighs. "Bro, shut the fuck up. You already had your turn. It's my turn now."

Sunghoon leaned forward, dragging his tongue over your cheek, licking at the tears that stained your skin before pressing a sloppy kiss to the corner of your mouth.

"Step aside. I'm not done yet." Heeseung shoved Sunghoon out of his way, his hand already on your thigh, forcing your legs apart with a strength that made your body jolt.

"W-wait—" your voice broke, a weak sniffle escaping as you tried to catch your breath, your chest heaving rapidly, overstimulation already threatening to unravel you further.

The stretch of your thighs, the way Heeseung's fingers pressed into your skin, it all made you flinch with both anticipation and fear. You weren't sure if you could take more, but your body betrayed you, your cunt twitching at the thought of him filling you again.

"Dude, no fun," Sunghoon muttered, irritation coloring his tone as he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, still tasting you there. His cock twitched in his fist, but he leaned back with a scowl.

"Three of you step back. You can't even take care of her." Jay's voice cut through the air, commanding, silencing all of them in an instant.

Your head turned instinctively toward him. The sound of his voice sent a violent shiver down your spine, your pussy clenching around nothing as though it had been waiting only for him. Your chest hitched, your lips parting on a desperate little whimper that you couldn't hold back. "J-Jay..."

Jake scoffed from the other side of the bed, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, but the flash of annoyance in his expression didn't hide the way his chest rose faster, as if even he knew Jay's presence shifted everything. "She's fine. Don't act like you're the savior now."

Jay's gaze flicked toward him, before returning to you. He moved closer until he stood at the edge of the bed, looking down at your trembling body. "She's more than fine. She's a mess. Look at her." His jaw tightened as his eyes roamed over you—your soaked thighs, your trembling legs, your chest that still rose and fell unevenly. His voice softened. "She's mine to take care of."

Heeseung growled low in his throat, clearly unwilling to back off, his body still hovering over you. "We've already broken her in. Don't come here acting like you own her now." His fingers dug into your thigh harder, spreading you wider as if to make his point.

Jay's expression didn't shift, though his eyes burned darker. "Then move. Or I'll make you."

You breathe heavily, looking at the both of them. And you—your body trembled violently, torn apart by the clash of their voices, but deep down you knew what you wanted. Your lips quivered, the words slipping out before you could stop yourself. "I... I want Jay..."

The silence that followed was deafening.

Heeseung froze above you, his eyes narrowing dangerously, while Jake let out a low laugh, though the jealousy in it was sharp. Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, biting his lip as though amused but also curious to see what Jay would do.

Jay leaned closer, his hand reaching out to brush your messy hair away from your face, his touch surprisingly gentle after all the roughness you'd endured. His thumb stroked over your damp cheek, wiping at the dried tears. His gaze softened as he looked at you.

"Here I thought I was your favorite," Heeseung muttered, finally releasing the tight grip he had on your leg. Beneath the teasing, a mix of bitterness and disappointment that made your chest ache even in your haze.

Jake snorted, throwing a smirk in Heeseung's direction. "Don't flatter yourself. She probably still thinks you're her number one. She just wants another cock inside her because that's what sluts do." His words were cruel, but his retreat was obvious, stepping back from you, his chest still heaving.

Heeseung only shrugged at that, but his eyes flicked to you once more before he turned his head away.

Your lips trembled, guilt and shame mixing with the raw need still burning inside you. You tilted your head toward Jay, your voice coming out as the weakest of whispers. "D-do you want me to clean up first?" The moment the words left your mouth, your chest tightened—afraid he might flinch, afraid he might see you the same way Jake just called you.

But Jay only smiled softly, shaking his head as though the thought was absurd. "It's alright, angel."

The simple reassurance broke something in you. Your eyes stung all over again, but before the tears could spill, his mouth was already moving lower, pressing a trail of unhurried kisses along your inner thigh. Each press of his lips lingered. By the time his lips hovered just above your swollen core, his pointed nose brushing lightly over your sensitive clit, your back had already arched off the sheets in anticipation.

You gasped softly, when his tongue finally slid against you. Hot, steady, and so focused, his tongue swirled around your folds before slipping inside you, teasing your oversensitive walls with a precision that made your breath catch in your throat. The contrast to the brutal pace you'd been enduring was staggering—he wasn't just eating you out, he was savoring you.

Your hands flew instinctively to his hair, trembling fingers tangling into his dark strands as you moaned helplessly, your chest rising and falling with every wave of sensation he drew from you. "J-Jay..." His name slipped from your lips brokenly.

He hummed against your cunt at the sound, the vibration making you twitch as his tongue moved deeper, stroking places inside you that made your toes curl. His grip on your hips tightened, holding you still when your thighs tried to clamp shut around his head from the overwhelming pleasure.

Behind him, you could feel the others watching—Heeseung's silence heavy, Jake's low scoff, Sunghoon's quiet hum of approval—but all of it blurred into the background when Jay moaned against you, drinking you down.

You whimpered, tugging at his hair as your hips bucked weakly into his mouth. "S-so good... I can't, I c-can't hold it—"

Jay pulled back just enough to glance up at you, his lips glistening with your slick, his eyes dark but soft. "Then don't. Let go for me, angel. Just me."

And with that, he dipped his head again, his tongue flicking against your clit with quick, precise strokes while his fingers slid inside you, curling expertly until you were screaming, until your body was trembling so hard you thought it might break apart.

Jay let go of your trembling body, his lips brushing once more against your temple before he finally shifted back. The bed dipped under his weight as he knelt at the edge, the leather of his belt creaking faintly as his fingers tugged at the buckle.

You knew the night had only just begun, but here in this room it already felt like you had been devoured whole, like there was no way out.

"Have you ever been fucked in the ass?" Jay's voice broke through, deceptively calm, his palm gliding down the curve of your thigh, rubbing in a slow rhythm as if coaxing you into trust.

Your lashes fluttered, your chest seizing as though his words had cut the air straight out of your lungs. "H-Huh?" Your voice cracked, eyes wide, searching his expression for some sign of softness that might match the way he'd just held you.

From your left, Jake let out a muffled laugh, the sound harsh against the fragile silence that followed your confusion.

Jay's hand didn't falter. He pressed a little higher on your thigh, the pads of his fingers stroking, teasing, until finally one circled lower, grazing a place that had never been touched this way before.

His tone was as gentle as before, almost sickeningly so. "I asked," he repeated slowly, "have you ever been fucked in your ass, angel?"

The tip of his finger brushed against your rim and you gasped, the breath caught sharp in your throat as heat and panic flared all at once. Your body jolted, betraying you. You couldn't even find the words, your head turning automatically toward the other three. Heeseung, Jake, and Sunghoon—all three watching you intently, not a single one offering you an escape.

You shook your head quickly, shame coloring your cheeks as your voice finally stumbled out. "N-No..."

Jay's lips curved into a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "On your arms and knees, then. I'll be gentle with you."

The smile was soft, but you could already feel the deception in it. You should've known by now—Jay only looked gentle when he wanted you to obey.

Your tears hadn't even dried when you felt his finger pressing more firmly at your rim, the tight, foreign intrusion making your body stiffen. The burn was immediate, sharp, a sensation your body didn't know how to handle. He twisted his finger slowly, deliberately, and the stretch made you whimper, your hands clawing desperately at the sheets.

"C-can't take it," you cried, shaking your head, your vision blurring again. Your body writhed under him, desperate for someone—anyone—to stop him.

"Hurts, Sunghoon. It hurts!" Your arm reached blindly for him, searching for comfort.

And Sunghoon leaned in instantly, catching your reaching hand, his lips brushing your temple in mock sympathy. "Shh," he cooed, the sound almost tender if not for the wicked edge beneath it. "I thought you were a good girl? You've been dreaming about us for so long, haven't you? This is what you wanted."

Your sobs shook your chest, but your body betrayed you again—clenching around Jay's finger, trembling from every deliberate twist.

On your other side, Heeseung moved closer, crouching low until his chest brushed against your arm. He caught your free hand and guided it toward him, pressing your palm around his cock.  "Come on, baby. Use those hands. Don't just cry. Make yourself useful while Jay breaks you in."

Jay's finger pushed deeper, the slow stretch pulling another ragged sob from your throat. He watched you closely, his jaw tight, his cock already heavy in his hand as he stroked it lazily. His lips curved again, "relax, angel. Breathe. I'll make it hurt less if you beg me properly."

When Jay finally pulled his finger free, your body sagged in relief—but it was short-lived. The sharp tear of foil reached your ears, and your stomach flipped as the sound registered. You forced your head to lift, desperate to see him, but Sunghoon's hand kept you locked in place, his grip so firm on your hair that you couldn't move. He angled you down toward Heeseung's cock again, your mouth spreading open around him until you gagged.

You heard the faint snap of latex as Jay rolled the condom down his thick length, the squirt of lube slicking the air before his fist wrapped around himself, stroking with slow pumps. You tried to tilt your head to catch a glimpse, but Sunghoon tugged hard, forcing you to choke around Heeseung's cock. Your throat tightened painfully as you coughed against the intrusion.

"Hmp—!" Your cry was muffled, spilling against Heeseung's cock as Jay pressed forward. The blunt head of his cock nudged against your rim, stretching you in ways you weren't prepared for.

Jay's groan vibrated through the room, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he pushed deeper, inch by inch. His hands gripped your ass, spreading you wider, making you tremble as the burn ignited again.

Your throat was stuffed with Heeseung's cock, and every shallow thrust into your mouth came with another humiliating gulp, gulp, gulp. Each noise mingled with Jay's ragged breathing as he sank himself slowly into your ass.

By the time his cock buried itself halfway, your hands had flown to Heeseung's thighs in desperation, nails scratching down his skin as your throat tried to adjust. Heeseung hissed sharply at the sting, then abruptly pulled out, your mouth gasping for air as you coughed and sobbed.

"Bitch," he spat, slapping your cheek with enough force to sting. Your head tilted from the impact, tears spilling harder as you whimpered against the mattress, your body trembling uncontrollably.

The sound of the slap cracked through the room—and the shift in the air was instant. Jay froze, his dark eyes snapping up, his jaw tight. Slowly, he leaned over you, his chest pressing against your back, his cock still halfway inside your ass as he fixed his glare on Heeseung.

"The fuck do you think you're doing?"

"She fucking scratched me—" Heeseung started.

Jay's glare sharpened, cutting him off. His hand curled around your hip, steadying you as he leaned closer until his lips brushed your ear, his words meant for both you and Heeseung. "Apologize. To her. Now."

Heeseung's jaw flexed, annoyance flashing in his eyes, but under Jay's burning stare, he finally muttered, "...Sorry."

You sniffled, your face pressed to the sheets, too shaken to respond. Jay's grip on your hip softened just enough for his thumb to caress you. "You okay, hmm?"

You swallowed hard, unable to find your voice, and forced yourself to nod against the sheets. Your chest rose and fell in shuddering waves, but you needed him to believe you could take it.

Jay hummed softly, almost like praise. "That's it. Breathe for me, angel. Let me in. Don't hold back." His hips pressed forward again. The intrusion stretched you open slowly, your body fighting to keep up with his size. The burn sharpened into an unbearable sting, and you screamed into the mattress, toes curling tight against the sheets as you struggled not to collapse.

Sunghoon's hand smoothed over your hair, patting your head with a tenderness, so comforting that make you whimper. "Good girl," he whispered, as though you needed his approval just to keep breathing.

Then Heeseung moved closer, his hand sliding between your thighs to press against your soaked pussy.

"Sorry, baby." His palm cupped you carefully, you flinched at first, but when he leaned in, his lips closing over your nipple, sucking hard, the sharp edge of pain dulled under a rush of pleasure. The shift made your back arch violently, the cry that tore from you high and desperate.

"Ahh! F-fuck!" you screamed, voice cracking, torn between pain and bliss.

Jay grunted at the way your body squeezed around him, his hand wrapping tightly around your arm to pull it back behind you like a lever. His other hand gripped your shoulder firmly, anchoring you while his hips snapped forward with force. Each thrust sent a wet smack echoing through the room, skin colliding with a punishing rhythm.

Heeseung groaned against your chest, his tongue flicking over your nipple as his fingers pressed harder into your clit, rubbing circles that sent shocks of sensation racing through your trembling body. The mixture of Jay's brutal thrusts and Heeseung's eager mouth had you thrashing.

You never thought being filled that way could drag such a storm out of you. The sting that had first made you sob now twisted into something overwhelming, a blend of fire and honey that made your body betray you with every clench. Each thrust blurred the line between pain and euphoria until you couldn't separate one from the other, only the dizzy rush that kept forcing cries from your throat.

At some point, you lost track of who was where.

You were a doll passed between them, shifted and handled, your body too pliant to resist, too consumed by sensation to understand the movement until it was already happening.

When Jay lifted you with an arm hooked under your ribs, carrying your trembling weight as though you were light as air, your limbs hung loose, hair falling forward like a curtain, your head lolling against his chest. The world was hazy, sound muffled except for their voices and the unrelenting rhythm of flesh against flesh.

You moaned uncontrollably, the sound spilling out of you even before Sunghoon pushed inside your swollen pussy. He didn't wait, he didn't tease—he slid in deep, and the stretch dragged another cry out of your throat.

Jake positioned himself over you, his hands squeezing your tits roughly, pressing them together around the length of his cock. He thrusted between them with a feral need, groaning at the slick heat as he forced you to keep your trembling arms raised so you couldn't rest, so none of them were ignored.

Your muscles screamed, the burn in your shoulders mixing with the fire between your legs. Yet the harder it became to hold on, the more your moans broke apart into helpless sobs.

"Shit! So fucking good!" Sunghoon moaned, usually he was silent, the one who held back while the others filled the air, but now his restraint had shattered. His moans came rough and guttural, pulled from his chest with every thrust, his expression twisting into something close to pure bliss. Each time his hips met yours, the sound that tore from his throat was louder, rawer, until you realized he was trembling too—losing himself in you just as much as you were unraveling under him.

Your vision blurred at the edges, tears clinging to your lashes, the ringing in your ears drowning out everything but their voices and the wet sounds of bodies colliding. Orgasms tore through you one after another, piling so fast you couldn't separate them anymore. You were trapped in the spiral of it, begging without thought, "Y-yes, fuck, yes—I can't stop—I need it—please, don't stop!"

Your body betrayed you completely, arching up even as you wanted to collapse. The adhesive gems clinging to your eyelids sparkled faintly under the light, miraculously still in place as your eyes rolled back, your tongue slipping free from your mouth with no strength left to hold it in. You were a mess, unrecognizable even to yourself, but they devoured every second of it.

Jake groaned low in his chest as his cock pulsed, spilling over your tits, hot ropes covering your skin until you were painted in him. He slapped your chest once more, watching it smear across your breasts before stumbling back, his body giving out as he dropped onto the mattress, panting heavily, drained but satisfied.

The moment you were freed from him, your lips were claimed again. Heeseung and Jay's mouths fought for space against yours, kissing you with different kinds of urgency—Jay deep and consuming, Heeseung sharp and demanding. Their lips pulled moans out of you you didn't even know you had left, your eyes shut tight as your mouth parted helplessly between them.

Meanwhile, Sunghoon's cock dragged deeper inside you, angling until it brushed that spot that made your whole body spasm. The rhythm of his thrusts grew steadier, more desperate, his hips slamming into you with a pace that made your chest heave and your breath hitch against the mouths kissing yours. He was unrelenting, he couldn't stop himself, your body had unlocked something in him he never wanted to let go of.

Sunghoon's control shattered first. His jaw clenched, veins standing out along his neck as he pushed deeper, his movements rough and unsteady, every thrust dragging a desperate sound from him. His eyes squeezed shut and his head tilted back, a moan ripping from his throat as his stomach tightened, the pleasure consuming him faster than he could handle. He bit down on his lip, but it wasn't enough to stifle the way his body shook while his cock throbbed violently inside you.

You felt the hot flood of his release filling you in long, uncontrollable spurts. It spread thick through your core, making your walls clench tighter as though your body wanted to keep him there, to hold every drop.

The sensation was so overwhelming that your back arched high into Jay's chest. He caught you easily, his large hand spreading over your breast and kneading. His lips swallowed your broken moans, his tongue sliding deep until you whimpered against him, unable to keep up.

Your hips jerked when Sunghoon finally spilled the last of his release, the force of it pushing some of his cum to seep out around his cock. He slumped forward, chest heaving, but his grip on your waist betrayed his reluctance to leave you. He wanted to stay buried, to keep claiming you—but his body gave out, and with a low groan he pulled free, his length glistening as it slid from your swollen cunt.

The loss of him left you trembling, and before you could even breathe, Heeseung was already there. His hand slid between your thighs, fingers parting your slick folds without hesitation. He rubbed over your swollen clit in tight circles, faster, sharper, and your lips tore away from Jay's kiss to scream, your cry echoing through the room as a new wave of sensation tore through you.

Sunghoon's cum was still dripping from your pussy when Heeseung's fingers slapped against your sensitive clit. The sharp sting made your hips spasm, jerking upward uncontrollably, the sound of the wet slap filling the room. Your thighs shook, but Jay's hand on your chest kept you pressed firmly against him, forcing you to take it all.

"So fucking hot," Jay groaned against your skin, his teeth grazing your neck before biting down just enough to leave a mark. He soothed the bite with his tongue before sucking at the spot, leaving his claim branded into your skin while you cried softly beneath him.

"Come on," Heeseung coaxed. He gave your clit another sharp slap that made you gasp, your entire body twitching. "Breathe. Deep. You've still got two cocks waiting for you."

Your body was trembling, the exhaustion in your muscles fighting against the need clawing through your veins. Every part of you screamed for a pause, a moment of stillness, but your lips betrayed you, spilling soft, broken words into the heated air.

"...cock... want more..." you whispered, not even sure if you meant to say it out loud, but the second it left your mouth, they moved.

They shifted you onto Heeseung first, his broad chest rising under your palms as he positioned himself at your entrance. Your thighs burned as you straddled him, but you couldn't stop yourself from lowering down, grinding until his thick tip slid past your folds, the friction making your entire body quiver.

Heeseung's eyes darkened immediately, his hands gripping your waist as he guided you, feeling the way your heat stretched around him.

Jay stood behind you, his movements methodical as he tore open another condom with his teeth. He rolled the latex down over his length with one hand, the other already spreading over your lower back, holding you steady. His touch was careful, deceptively gentle, even as you felt the blunt press of his cock teasing your other entrance.

The stretch made you scream, your head snapping back to his shoulder as his cock slowly pushed inside your ass. Your tits arched forward, bouncing in Heeseung's face, and he groaned like he was seeing heaven itself, his mouth immediately latching onto one nipple. His tongue flicked hard before he began sucking greedily, moaning against your skin, drowning himself in the taste of you might keep him from unraveling completely.

He told himself not to get attached, not to think beyond the raw act of it but as he looked up, catching the sight of your face twisted with both pain and euphoria, your lashes damp with tears, your lips parted, your flushed cheeks glowing, he was gone. So fucking pretty, too pretty for this. His chest tightened, his teeth sinking into his lip, half-lidded eyes watching you lose yourself while he thrust up into you.

"Ahh—fuck! S-so good! Feels so good!" you sobbed, your voice breaking as both of them found their rhythm inside you.

Jay's arm slid tighter around your middle, pulling you back against him, while his other hand anchored hard on your shoulder.

Each drive of his hips made your body lurch forward, and every time he withdrew, Heeseung thrust upward to meet you, their cocks colliding through the thin barrier inside you. The pressure was relentless, unbearable yet addicting. You felt so full, so completely wrecked, yet you didn't want them to stop.

Your head fell back against Jay's shoulder, your throat exposed, your lips trembling as the sounds poured out of you unrestrained. His gaze locked onto you, never wavering, watching every twitch of your brows, every flutter of your lashes, every blissful break in your voice.

His stomach coiled tight when he saw you smile through your moans, blissful grin that said you were floating in a haze beyond reason.

And then—when you let out a delirious laugh, drunk on cock and pleasure—both he and Heeseung nearly lost control.

"Shit... fuck, look at her," Heeseung moaned against your chest, thrusts erratic as your pussy clenched harder, milking him. His thumb found your clit again, circling with ruthless precision, making your hips twitch violently in their hold.

"Fucking cockdrunk," Jake muttered from the side, his voice strained, his hand already wrapped tight around his cock as he stroked himself, eyes devouring the sight of you stuffed full between Jay and Heeseung.

"Unbelievable..." Sunghoon hissed, though his body betrayed his words as his cock hardened again at the sight. His chest rose sharply, his jaw tightening as his eyes burned into you, unable to look away.

And you—you were flying. Your entire body trembled, sweat dripping down your back, every nerve set alight as two cocks pounded into you in perfect rhythm, stretching you in ways you never thought you could handle. You weren't just moaning anymore—you were laughing, delirious, euphoric, because nothing had ever felt this good. The world outside didn't exist. There was only this. Only them. Only the way your body sang under their hands, under their cocks.

You were living your best fucking life, and in that moment, you knew you never wanted it to end.

"Shit—I'm gonna cum," Heeseung groaned, his head falling back against the pillow as his thrusts grew uneven. You couldn't help yourself, couldn't stop your body from pushing back onto his cock, greedy for every last inch.

"Need it—please, I need you to cum inside me—don't hold back," you moaned.

Jay tightened his bicep around your throat, dragging you flush against him as his lips pressed against your temple. "Take it, angel. Take all of him."

The heat in your chest exploded when Heeseung moaned loud and emptied inside you. The sound of his voice made your heart lurch even as your own orgasm tore through you again. Your walls clenched so violently that his cock twitched helplessly, spilling thicker and thicker ropes of cum until you could feel the weight of it stretching your stomach. The mess spilled from the corners of your folds, warm streams dripping down your thighs.

But before the haze could settle, Jay's voice cut through. "Pull out, Heeseung. It's my turn—I want to cum in her too." His arm around your throat tightened, pulling you higher onto him, your back arching as his cock slid free from your ass, still painfully hard.

Heeseung hesitated, his chest heaving, his eyes narrowing like he didn't want to let go of the heat he'd buried himself in. He gave a sharp exhale of frustration but finally withdrew, his cock wet and shining as he let you slip from him.

Jay didn't waste a second. He yanked off the condom, tossing it carelessly aside, then pushed his length inside your pussy still dripping with Heeseung's load. The stretch burned, but the mix of fluids made him slide in effortlessly, and the sensation had your toes curling instantly.

"Fuck—fuck, she's so wet," Jay groaned, his forehead pressing against the side of your head. His pace was punishing, his hips snapping against your ass as his hand gripped your hip to anchor himself.

"Can't hold it—gonna fill you—"

The moment he buried himself deep, his body stiffened, and he spilled hot inside you. His growl vibrated against your ear, the sound of his release mixing with your own helpless moans. You could feel it, the pulse of his cock as he filled you so completely that the mix of him and Heeseung spilled back out, dripping into a sticky mess beneath you.

It took a long moment before they both released you, your body sagging limp between them. You barely had the strength to move when Jake stepped forward, his hand already pumping his length with urgency, his eyes locked on your face. Sunghoon moved with him, their cocks standing tall, both of them crowding your view as you were laid down on your back.

"Open up, baby," Jake ordered.

Your lips parted, tongue falling out on instinct, the salty taste of precum already smearing across it as they fisted themselves harder. Their groans overlapped as thick spurts painted your cheeks, your forehead, your lips, dripping down your neck and into your hair. You swallowed what you could, eyes rolling back at the sheer dirtiness of it, your chest rising and falling rapidly with each ragged breath.

You stared blankly at the ceiling, vision hazy, ears ringing so loud it felt like you were underwater. Your head was spinning, the room tilting, but your body was already being turned again.

Your limbs flopped uselessly as Jake forced his cock back to hardness, guiding himself to your ass, while Heeseung gripped your legs wide, holding you open as though your exhaustion didn't matter.

One by one, they took their turns again, each of them sliding into your abused body, spilling more inside until it felt like there wasn't any part of you left untouched. Your mind was gone, floating somewhere else, your mouth hanging open without sound, and still, they didn't stop.

The last thing you remembered was Sunghoon's icy hands spreading your folds, his voice low with awe as he stared at the mess dripping from your swollen used pussy—thick white streams still spurting.

And then you passed out, swallowed by the overwhelming haze of pleasure and exhaustion, your body twitching even in unconsciousness, your mind lost in the aftershocks of everything they had done.

You woke with a body that felt heavier than stone, every inch aching. The room was quiet except for the soft snores surrounding you.

You shivered, realizing the air was cold against your damp hair and clammy skin, only to notice the weight of arms draped over you—two different hands anchoring you in place. One was around your waist, pulling you back into a solid chest, the other rested lazily on your hip.

You blinked hard, trying to gather yourself, and only then did you notice you were clothed, though barely. Someone had slipped a shirt over you, but it was hiked up high, baring most of your thighs. Heart pounding, you tilted your head, your breath catching when you saw Jay's face so close to yours. His features were peaceful, his brows relaxed, lips parted just slightly as a soft groan escaped him. Even in sleep, he pulled you tighter into his chest.

"What the fuck..." you whispered under your breath, pulse racing as heat rushed to your cheeks.

Your gaze dropped lower and froze. Sunghoon's head rested against your chest, lips slack and still attached to your nipple. His hand was curled around your waist too, fingers twitching. The memory of his face twisted in pleasure, his voice breaking with moans, hit you so hard that your thighs clenched instinctively.

You stifled a sound, your whole face burning.

Carefully, with your fingers trembling, you began to pry their hands off one by one, moving Jay's arm and slipping Sunghoon's hand back over his own body. It felt like sneaking out of something you weren't supposed to survive. But before you could breathe in relief, your eyes darted downward—and you almost screamed.

At the foot of the bed, sprawled across like he owned the space, was Jake. His cheek was pressed into the mattress, lips parted as he breathed heavily, his bare chest rising and falling. He looked so soft like this, so far from the rough, taunting voice that had wrecked you just hours ago.

Your stomach flipped.

"What the hell..." you whispered again, a little louder this time, biting your lip as panic swirled in your chest. You couldn't stay here. Not with the memories flashing in your head.

Ignoring the deep ache in your thighs and the heaviness weighing down your limbs, you tiptoed around them, snatching your heels and dress from the table. The sound of the zipper sliding into place echoed too loudly in your ears as you tried to dress as quietly as possible.

When you finally slipped out and pulled the door shut behind you, you pressed your back against it, exhaling sharply. Relief barely lasted a second before you froze again.

Someone was sitting in the living room.

Heeseung was perched on the couch, phone in hand, his tall frame hunched slightly forward. The glow of the screen lit his sharp features, but the second the door clicked shut, his head snapped up. His eyes widened as if he hadn't expected you to actually walk out. In a blur, he was standing, pocketing his phone.

"Hey," his voice came out softer than you remembered.

Your whole body stiffened, eyes wide, your pulse hammering in your throat. The room was quiet but the weight of his presence filled it, and you could feel your heart fluttering in panic—or maybe dangerously close to longing.

"It's just five-thirty," he said, glancing briefly at the window where the faintest gray of dawn was creeping in. "We finished at four. Are you... already leaving?"

Your throat was dry. Fuck. He was talking to you. Just standing there, bare-faced and raw from the night before, his voice carrying none of the arrogance it once did. You wanted to respond, but your mouth betrayed you, stuck in silence. You could only stare at him, your gaze trembling before you forced it away, too shy, too ashamed, too overwhelmed.

Heeseung shifted his weight, his Adam's apple bobbing as though he was working up the nerve. Then, in a tone that was almost uncertain, he asked, "Were we too rough?"

You blinked up at him, startled.

"I..." you started, but the words stuck.

His jaw tightened, eyes flickering before he let out a low sigh. He rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous gesture that didn't fit the man who had held you down hours earlier. His voice dropped lower, rough with regret. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to slap you like that. I just... I got carried away."

The sincerity in his tone, the way his eyes searched yours like he needed you to believe him, made your chest ache. You didn't trust yourself to speak, your throat felt raw, so you simply nodded, awkward and small, hoping it was enough.

"I—I... uh... shit." Heeseung's voice faltered.

He was fumbling, caught off guard by the weight of his own thoughts. For the first time, he seemed unsure.

Heeseung had always respected the girls they brought into this kind of mess, but responsibility was something he usually left to Jay, who carried gentleness. Yet with you, the urge was different. It was tugging at him in a way he couldn't ignore, and it unsettled him more than he'd ever admit.

His tongue darted over his lips, his brows knitting together as he shifted closer, still cautious of your fragile state. "Do you... want to leave? I—uh—I can get my car, or call someone, or—wait." He cut himself off, unsure what offer would make sense, what you even needed from him right now.

You shook your head quickly, your hands clinging to your heels. Your voice came out almost too small to hear, but you forced the words past your lips. "T-thank you. I-I can manage myself. Th-thank you... so much."

It was rushed, shaky, like you needed to get it out before your voice betrayed the truth of how fragile you felt. Without waiting for his response, you turned away, your bare feet carrying you in tiny, stumbling steps toward the door. Each step hurt, your body reminding you of everything from last night, but you pressed forward anyway, desperate to escape the heaviness in the room.

"Wait—what's your—" Heeseung started, his hand twitching forward as if he could reach you. But the words fell flat, caught in his throat, and he stopped himself before finishing. His lips pressed together in frustration, a quiet curse slipping under his breath. His eyes followed the curve of your back, the fragile sway of your shoulders, the sound of your unsteady footsteps echoing.

"...number."

The word left him softer than a whisper, too late, almost swallowed by the empty space you left behind.

He stood there for a long moment, staring at the door you'd just disappeared through, torn between running after you and letting you go. His jaw clenched, his hand raking through his hair as he sank back down onto the couch.

He couldn't shake the image of you—the way your eyes had rolled back in bliss, the way you had laughed in the middle of it all, the way you looked at him now as if you wanted to disappear.

And Heeseung felt a kind of defeat that left his chest heavy. First, he was pissed that Jay, of all people, had managed to pull your attention more than once that night. Second, he hadn't even gotten the chance to really enjoy you the way he wanted, not fully, not the way that would have been enough. And third—worst of all—he didn't even know your full name, or what department you were in, or anything beyond that single night where you'd let yourself unravel in his arms and under his hands.

"Fuck..." he muttered under his breath, dragging a hand over his face, frustrated at the gnawing ache in his chest. You were too pretty, too delicate, too intoxicating, and it infuriated him that Sunghoon and Jake had gotten their way with you first, splitting you open before he ever had the chance to claim you for himself. The thought of them having your "first" and sharing you so easily left a bitter taste in his mouth. He wanted you whole, wanted you alone, wanted more than the scraps of a night shared with three others.

Heeseung realized this wasn't just another nameless, faceless memory to throw away. He didn't want this to be the last time. He wanted more of you—your laugh, your trembling voice, your warmth pressed against him. The only thing he had left was the trace of your scent, still lingering faintly on his skin and in the air, that floral sweetness that he couldn't shake no matter how many showers he took. It drove him mad.

"Hey, I tried your perfume and it doesn't smell nearly as nice on me as it does on you." 

Your classmate pouted, watching you rub lotion into your arms after swim class. Her tone was playful, but her eyes lingered longer than usual, narrowing slightly at the fading bruises that scattered along your thighs.

"—Wait, are you okay? What's with all these marks?" she asked, her voice shifting, curious but edged with concern as her gaze dropped to your legs, then caught on your wrist where faint discoloration still traced your skin.

You forced a small smile, your hands moving carefully as though the weight of her stare could dig deeper into your body. "Anemia," you said lightly. "You know how it gets sometimes."

She frowned, unconvinced, but didn't press further. You focused on squeezing another bit of lotion into your palm, your thoughts drifting elsewhere. The bottle was nearly empty, and you hesitated for a moment, wondering if you should buy another or try something different.

It had been two weeks. Two weeks since your body had been pushed to its limit, since you had let yourself fall apart in the arms, mouths, and cocks of four men who you never should have gotten tangled with.

As much as it thrilled you to remember, you knew it wasn't something you could ever share. Not with your classmates, not with anyone. This was yours alone.

And so, you smiled at your friend, pretending everything was normal, while inside, you cherished the memory of a night you swore you'd never tell.

You tied your damp hair back, the strands clinging to your neck as you tugged on a sweatshirt and shorts. A light mist of perfume lingered as you sprayed your wrists, your throat, the curve of your shoulder, even down your spine as though you could drown yourself in that sweet comfort.

"God, you smell so good again," your friend whined, fanning herself dramatically. You only chuckled and brushed her off, slipping your bag onto your shoulder before following the group.

The conversation turned quickly, as it always seemed to these days.

"How come those fuckboys keep throwing parties and we never hear a word after? It's like magic," one girl scoffed, and the others broke into agreement, voices overlapping with laughter.

"Right? I swear they must be fucking someone every time," another chimed in, clapping her hands for emphasis. "No way they're just drinking. But no one ever talks. Like—ever."

Their voices carried ahead of you while you trailed behind, smiling faintly, shaking your head as if their words were just another baseless rumor. Inside, though, your chest tightened. If only they knew. If only they could imagine half of what had happened that night. But you weren't about to let them. You had no intention of ever telling a single soul.

That night was a secret carved into you, and the four of them had reputations built on silence—no communication, no strings, no trace.

You sighed, crouching down to fix your shoelace, the chatter of your classmates fading as they moved further down the hall. One of them called your name over their shoulder, urging you to hurry, but before you could respond, the sound of measured steps came closer. A shadow cut across the floor in front of you.

You froze.

Slowly, your gaze lifted from the shoes planted right in front of you. And your heart stopped.

"Found you," a low voice drawled, threaded with satisfaction, almost a taunt.

Gasps erupted behind you, your classmates halting in their tracks.

Your eyes widened. Heeseung was really there, standing over you in broad daylight, surrounded by people, breaking his own rules without hesitation. You couldn't move, couldn't breathe.

Then, without warning, he crouched down in front of you. The tall, untouchable Heeseung—the one who ignored every girl who chased after him, who made it clear he wanted nothing to do with messy attention—was kneeling, his long fingers brushing over your loose shoelace.

"I had a hard time finding you," he muttered, not loud enough for anyone but you to hear. His tone was casual, but his jaw was tight, his movements sharp with frustration as he tied the knot in one clean motion. "It really pissed me off, you know?"

Your throat went dry. Heat crawled up your neck, spreading across your face until you felt the tips of your ears burn.

Why? Why was he here? Why was he talking to you? This wasn't the Heeseung everyone else knew. He never lowered himself like this—not in front of everyone, not where people could see. He shut girls down without a glance, his cold indifference the very thing that made them chase harder. Yet here he was, focused on you with an intensity that made your stomach twist.

Around you, your classmates whispered furiously, unable to hide their shock. Some covered their mouths, others exchanged wide-eyed looks, but no one dared step closer.

"Can we talk?" His voice was steady, but softer than you expected, almost coaxing.

When you finally dared to look at him, his eyes caught yours. They weren't the eyes of the cold, untouchable Heeseung everyone claimed to know. No, they were gentle, wide, almost disarming, like he was looking through you and not just at you. He smiled—small, sweet, almost shy—and your lips trembled against the sudden wave of nerves.

"H-Huh?" Your voice cracked embarrassingly.

Before you could gather yourself, he reached forward and plucked your bag from your shoulder. His hand found yours in the same motion, his long fingers curling around your palm. The contact made your knees weaken, a sharp rush of heat flooding your chest.

Heeseung was holding your hand. Heeseung, who never even let girls close enough to breathe the same air without brushing them off, was lacing his fingers with yours in front of everyone!

"Let's get out of here first, hmm?" His tone carried a teasing lilt, but his grip on your hand was firm.

You could hardly process as he tugged you gently in the opposite direction, away from your frozen classmates whose whispers grew louder. Each step with him felt surreal, like walking straight into a dream you weren't ready for but couldn't pull away from.

Then, as if to seal the knot of heaviness swirling in your chest, his head tilted close, his breath warm against your ear.

"It's now my turn to have you all to myself."

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