#jiuchip writes

[jiuchip]

wait, he’s never made you cum before? || OT6

⋆.˚˖࿔ pairing | ot6 x 7thmember!reader ༉‧₊˚. synopsis | when your members find out you don't think its possible for you to come during sex (thanks to your lackluster ex), they set out on a mission to prove to you that not only is it possible, but there's many different ways to do so.

details | nsfw (MINORS DNI), pure smut, piwon as varying degrees of dominant (from softdom!jongseob to meandom!theo), reader is quite inexperienced, dry humping, oral (f. rec), thigh fucking, fingering, voyeurism, exhibitionism, squirting, mutual masturbation, voice kink, edging, overstimulation, punishment (not for reader), light dom/sub dynamics, power dynamics, f/m/m, f/m/m/m, time constraints, light humiliation, rough sex, creampie, throat-fucking, choking, orgasm denial, fluff (more probably) ⟡ length | 21k ⟡

𓆩⟡𓆪 note || well this was quite overwhelming to write and it is quite the ride ¬‿¬ the "plot" of this is barely a plot but the smut is smutting || also, can’t believe it’s been one month of this blog already!! thank you sm for 450 followers you all are so appreciated <3 now enjoy the pure filth as a gift (apologies in advance for any typos that might have still made it through, i physically cannot proofread this any more)

READ PART 2 HERE

“Wait, he’s never made you cum before?”

Your chopsticks freeze halfway up to your mouth that’s hung open awkwardly as you process the words that have just come out of Intak’s mouth. You look up from your bowl of noodles to see six pairs of eyes staring at you in varying levels of shock.

There’s a pause, and when no one moves to take this conversation in any other direction, you put down your chopsticks and close your mouth, clearing your throat as an embarrassed heat flushes high on your cheeks.

“Well, no,” you admit awkwardly. “I mean— yes. I have. By myself, I mean, just not by my ex or anyone else.”

You’re not sure how the conversation had diverged to you. One minute you were all talking over one of those reality dating shows Keeho had put on for everyone to watch over dinner (a strange choice, but whatever), then somehow the topic had shifted to first times and whether they were successful at bringing their partners to completion (this discussion was mainly between Theo, Keeho, and Intak), then someone was mentioning your name and asking you something you don’t remember, and you’d just made a throwaway comment about how, “He never did it for me anyway so this discussion is pointless to me,” to get them off your back (you were more focused on scarfing down your noodles), and now here you are.

“Wait,” Intak speaks again, blinking like his brain just couldn’t compute this piece of information. “So the guy that you were in a relationship with for two years,” he starts, then pauses to look at you, as if trying to make sure you were understanding the gravity of the situation, then continues, “has never made you come? Not once?”

You shake your head, pulling your lower lip between your teeth. It’s a little embarrassing, sure, but isn’t it normal for most women to not finish during sex?

“Not ever?” Keeho asks this time, his brows pulled up behind his fringe. “What about anyone you’ve ever been with. Ever.”

You drop your chopsticks into your bowl with a clatter. “No,” you say firmly. “Why is that so surprising?”

“Because it’s ridiculous,” Theo states easily, leaning back on the couch with his arms crossed.

You shrug. “I don’t see what the big deal is. Isn’t it normal to just fake it and move on?”

Intak makes a noise like he’s been severely offended. “No!” He cries. “I always make sure she comes. Always.”

You scoff in disbelief, shaking your head. The quiet ones, Jiung, Soul, and Jongseob, are still watching you like hawks, and you can tell from their eyes that they’re in accordance with the other three.

“There’s no way,” you say. You’ve been through the motions of sex before. It’s wildly uncomfortable, too slippery, and too rushed. “You’re telling me you can all make your girls’ finish?”

There’s a chorus of agreements from all of them, some more enthusiastic than others.

You blink, taken aback at the unity. “…Every time?”

Another round of assent and you’re left with the thought that maybe something’s just wrong with you.

“Maybe I just don’t like sex then,” you conclude, your brows pinching as you think back to the handful of times you’ve given yourself up to your ex partner and only come out of it regretful.

“That could be true.”

All eyes turn to Jiung, who’s sitting on the single chair leaned back casually, looking straight at you with a clinical eye that leaves you feeling a little too exposed. You squirm in your seat on the carpeted floor, grateful for the refuge in the slight coverage the coffee table provides you.

“But,” Jiung continues. “We’ve met the guy you were with. He didn’t exactly ooze generosity.”

“That’s true.” Jongseob’s voice pulls your eyes to where he’s sitting right across the table from you, hands braced on the floor behind him as he leans back. His eyes are calculating in their own way as they weigh on you. “If your experience was with him then I wouldn’t be too surprised.”

You fidget with your hands in your lap as your eyes flit over your members. “Well,” you start, then stop, mulling over your words for a moment. “Maybe there’s something wrong with me then.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you.” You almost flinch at Soul’s voice, sharper than you’re used to from him. He’s on the floor to your right, peering at you with wide, wondering eyes. “You said you’ve just never orgasmed with him, right? You can finish when it’s just yourself?”

You fluster at his blunt words but nod. “Yeah.”

“So it’s not like you can’t come or anything like that,” Keeho chimes in from the couch behind Jongseob. “Your ex just didn’t know how to treat you right.”

You pout, feeling a little affronted. “Hey, he wasn’t a bad person.”

“Bad in bed though,” Theo adds with a snicker.

You roll your eyes at him, picking up your chopsticks to have something to do with your hands. “I just can’t imagine coming from sex. It’s so… uncomfortable. Invasive.”

“Oh honey,” Keeho says, tone sympathetic. “He really didn’t know how to treat you right then. It doesn’t have to be invasive either. There’s so many more ways to come than just penetration.”

You stare at him, your brows climbing up your forehead. “There… is?” You knew of a couple methods but the way he says it makes you feel like you were missing out on a lot more than you thought.

Intak makes a noise like he’s just been punched by the words. “You don’t know?” He asks, like he’s truly horrified by your lack of knowledge. Then he looks at Theo beside him and rattles him by the arm. “Hyung, she doesn’t know!”

Theo shoves him off with a hand on his forehead. “Relax.” Then he turns back to you and his next words throw your brain into the void. “We could show you.”

There’s a palpable silence as those words hang in the air, leaving behind something heavy lingering in its wake.

“Taeyang,” Jiung scolds, turning to Theo with sharp eyes. “You can’t just spring something like that on her.”

“No, wait,” you find yourself saying. As daunting as whatever Theo has in mind seems, you can’t help but be curious. “I’m interested. Hypothetically.”

You can see everyone exchange looks, a weave of silent conversations that you ignore in favour of just looking at Theo, who holds your gaze back with a knowing smirk on his lips. He doesn’t say more though; he waits for you to steer the conversation.

“What—“ You start then stop again, clearing your throat when everyone’s eyes fall back to you. “Hypothetically, what would something like that entail?”

Theo leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, his smirk pulling wider. “Hypothetically,” he starts, a little teasing, and you falter under his stare. “We would each show you a different way to make you come. Prove to you all the ways that you can finish during sex and that you were missing out on with your ex.”

You blink at him as the words process. The thought of them showing you makes something crawl under your skin, something you’re not able to name. Your eyes flit over all them, all of them who are watching you carefully. “There’s six of you though.”

Theo raises a brow. “Yes?”

“You’re saying there’s six different ways?” You ask, trying to wrack your brain for all the other ways your ex has tried besides penetration and outer stimulation (which was more just poking around than anything). You’re not very adventurous on yourself either, so you come up empty. “Hypothetically,” you tack on as an afterthought.

“Well, hypothetically, we could keep that a secret until we get to show you.” Theo’s smirk is inching towards something more dangerous, something that makes your heart stutter. “Hypothetically,” he continues, tilting his head at you, “would you like us to show you?”

And suddenly, this doesn’t feel very hypothetical anymore. You can see it in the way they’re all just waiting for you to either take them up on this ‘hypothetical’ or put them out of their misery and brush off the conversation.

You think about it. Really think about it. You can’t deny the way all this talk has your body prickling with curiosity and heated anticipation at the thought of them showing you, whatever that might be.

You glance between them, your close friends of the past six years, the people you’ve practically grown up with, the ones you not only work with but call your own. Intak is leaned forward in morbid curiosity and hanging onto your every word, Jongseob is feigning nonchalance but you can see the faint blush on his cheeks, Keeho watches you with a heat that he doesn’t even bother to hide, Soul is more curious and earnest than anything, Jiung— though calm on the outside— looks like he’s ready to devour you with just his eyes, and Theo is an enigma you’re too scared to even try to decode. You can tell they’re all waiting for the word, whichever it may be. But you don’t feel scared by their anticipation despite the daunting way their gazes settle on you. You’re surprised to feel something pulling at your gut, something wanting and present.

But above all, you trust them with everything. You can trust them with something like this.

So with a shaky breath, you nod. “Yes.”

It’s like the scene in front of you pauses on a reel. No one breathes.

“Just hypothetically?” Theo asks you slowly.

“No,” you answer without hesitation. “Not just hypothetically.”

There’s a few sharp exhales like breaths that have been held in for too long, someone mutters a low curse from somewhere on your right, and the air shifts again into something heated with anticipation.

“Only if everyone is okay with it,” you add, because you don’t want to pull anyone into anything they don’t want just for your sake.

“Are you kidding me?” Intak scoffs, a boyish grin pulling on his face. “I may or may not have thought about this already before.”

Jiung reaches over Theo to smack Intak over his lack of decorum.

“It’s fine,” you say, a small, awkward smile pulling on your lips. You’re taken aback by Intak’s sudden confession, but it doesn’t deter you. It makes you even more curious to see just what he’s wanted with you. “I’m, uh, looking forward to what you guys have to show me. But I’m still not sure I believe that you guys can make me… you know.”

Jongseob smiles at you, leaning forward to lean his elbows on the coffee table. “Let us worry about that, okay?” His voice is lower, a little huskier, and it already has you a little flustered.

“Cute,” you hear Soul mumble under his breath from your right and you glance at him to see he’s staring at the flush on your cheeks.

You clear your throat, sitting up straight to regain some semblance of control over your body. “How do we do this?”

“We’ll make a list of what we’re going to do to you,” Keeho starts, making sure to let the words linger for a little just to see you squirm. “And then we’ll pick what we’re each best at so you can get the best of the best.” He glances around the room to gauge opinions. “Sounds good?”

Everyone agrees with more enthusiasm than you’re prepared for and you feel your heart start to thunder in your chest. Not from fear, but from excitement. If what they say is true, and they can get you to come without fail, you’re in for a night that could make up for all the mediocre sex in your life and open your eyes to things you might not even be aware of.

“That’s that then,” Jiung says as he pulls himself up to his feet and walks over to your direction. Your heart jolts as he leans down to pick up your bowl of abandoned noodles, and you feel a little ridiculous that you’re already so affected. Jiung’s eyes flicker over your face that’s a few inches from his, and the corner of his lips tick up for a split second. “Why don’t you wait for us in your room? We’ll figure everything else out.” His deep voice is hushed in a cadence that you can almost feel brush over your skin and leave goose flesh in its wake.

“Sure,” you say, cheeks heating when your voice cracks halfway.

You scamper up to your feet to evade his amused chuckle and rush towards the stairs leading up to your bedroom. 

Theo’s hand comes out to catch your arm before you can move past them, pulling you back. He’s standing now, looking down at you with a serious pinch of his brows. “Hey.” His voice is quieter, only for you to hear. “You’re really okay with this? It might be a lot for you to handle.”

You feel whatever nerves thrumming under your skin ease away at his concern. “I’m sure,” you say with a smile, squeezing his hand over your arm. “I trust you. I trust all of you.”

That eases the tension out of his shoulders and his frown melts into a smile. “Good,” he says, then his eyes flash into something darker and his smile appears sharper than it was a second. “Now go get yourself ready.” He leans in and breathes the next words practically on your lips. “And I promise you, you’re not leaving that room until you’ve come six times. And if the others fail, I’ll step in and make it up for them.”

You swallow, feeling the words sink to the base of your gut and fill it with fire. If just a few words can already push you towards ruin so quickly, you’re not sure what’ll happen when they actually get their hands on you.

𓆩⟡𓆪

You’re not sure how long you’ve been waiting with your heart in your throat and your limbs feeling like livewire. You sit at the head of your bed, back pressed to the headboard and knees pulled up to your chest.

You’re starting to wonder with each passing second just what you’ve signed up for. The nervous excitement is still there, of course, at the prospect of possibly being properly pleasured by someone else’s hand other than yours for a change but you have no idea what to expect. Your experience with sex didn’t measure up even a fraction to what you’d built up in your head and you just can’t imagine how your boys are possibly going to mend that disappointment.

But they seemed eager to show you otherwise, all of them. And you trust they’ll do well on their word even despite your lingering doubts.

So you take grounding breaths as you wait, sat comfy in a pair of sweats and a simple tee, until the handle to your door twists.

The door opens a fraction and Intak’s wide eyes peer in. “Can I come in?”

Your shoulders ease when you see that it’s just him and you wave him in with your hand. “Just you?” You ask, hoping only you can hear the waver in your voice.

“Just me,” he confirms, shutting the door behind him and making his way over to stand by the foot of the bed. “We decided on it just being a one on one thing. We didn’t want to overwhelm you with too much.”

You don’t even realize that was something you were worried about until you feel your chest loosen at the knowledge. “Oh,” you say with a grateful smile. “That’s good, actually. Thanks.”

He smiles back, soft and sweet. “Of course. This is supposed to be all about you. We wanna make sure you’re feeling good and not stressed out.” He tilts his head at you, a habit of his that you’ve always been endeared by. “How are you feeling?”

You bite down on your lip as you try to figure out how to put your feelings into words. “Fidgety? Nervous but… excited? I don’t really know what to expect, so I don’t know what to feel,” you admit sheepishly, then sit up straight with a sudden realization. “Wait, should I have changed into something prettier or…?”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “No, don’t worry about any of that. Keeping our clothes on will be just fine for this first… session, if that’s what we’re calling it.”

Your stomach flips when you realize that things are about to start and that Intak is here to be the first one to go. “Ah,” you say in realization, then frown. “Wait, clothes on?”

His sweet smile makes way to a smug smirk as he knees onto your bed and climbs on, settling to sit on his feet in front of you. “Yes,” he says, and you’re starting to realize how real everything is becoming with him sitting right in front of you. “Unless you wanted to see me with them off,” he adds with a cocky little grin.

You scoff at his flirty antics, something you’re all too familiar with. And the familiarity of it eases you down, surely something he’d meant for as he places a comforting hand on your ankle, rubbing slow circles there with his thumb.

“I didn’t make the rules,” you point out, feeling your body slowly settle under the small, soothing touch. “I don’t think I have any power here to decide.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” he purrs, then wraps the span of his hand around your ankle. “You have all the power here. We’re just here as vessels for your pleasure.”

Your brows raise as you bite down on your lip to smother your laugh. “That sounds awfully serious coming from you, Takki.”

But there’s no joke in the way Intak stares at you. Without warning, he yanks you forward by your ankle, pulling you flat on your back as he climbs over you, ignoring your yelp of surprise. He settles between your legs without delay and braces his hands on the bed on either side of your chest. He hovers over you, peering down at you with an intensity to his eyes you’ve seen him with only when it comes to figuring out complicated choreography.

“It is serious,” he tells you, low and smooth, and before you can respond his lips are on yours.

The kiss is slow and steady, more careful than you’d expect from Intak. But you find yourself melting into it with a soft sigh, your arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him down.

He settles down on his elbows as he presses deeper into the kiss, his body lowering down against yours. And that’s when you can feel it, the solid outline of his growing erection pressing against your thigh.

The weight of it against you shoots heat right to your core and makes you falter into the kiss. Curious, you push your leg up to press against the bulge and it gets a grunt out of his lips against yours.

He lifts up from the kiss, his pupils blown wide as he looks down at you with furrowed brows. “I wasn’t lying when I said I’ve thought about this before. Been wanting to do this for a long time now,” he says, his voice rough with desire.

He shifts his hips to line his erection right over you then presses firmly down, making you gasp at the pressure against your already throbbing core.

“You have?” You ask breathily when his words process. You roll your hips up to search for more of the pressure and Intak indulges you, rolling his hips down in a delicious grind that has your body bowing up the bed.

His hands move down to grab you by the hips and push them down against the bed, much to your dismay when it detaches you from the heat of him.

“Oh yeah,” he breathes, looking just as ruined by the sight of you as you’re starting to feel by him. 

He keeps one hand holding you down as the other slides under your shirt, warm as it slides up to your chest. His eyes flash when he finds you bare under the shirt and wastes no time to grasp the soft mound, making a stuttered breath fall from your lips as his finger pushes down on your sensitive nipple.

“And now I finally have my chance,” he mutters, dark eyes drinking up every twitch in your expression as his finger rolls over the stiffening peak, sending little sparks of pleasure from your chest down your spine. “I might not get to fuck you but I’ll take anything I can get.”

Before you can ask him just what it is he’s set out to do to you, he kisses you again. This time it’s fast, heated, impatient; everything you actually were expecting from him.

He wastes no time before he’s prodding into your mouth with his tongue. You accept him with a soft moan, a sound that has him pulling your nipple between his fingers and has another yelp rip from your throat that he drinks up with his persistent lips.

You didn’t realize just how quickly you could get turned on from just some kissing and a few careful touches. But you can feel the arousal pool in your gut and in your underwear.

To say you were surprised was an understatement, but that wasn’t on the forefront of your mind. All you were thinking was that you needed to feel more. 

As if he was reading your mind, Intak grinds down his clothed cock, fully hardened now, right into your needy heat.

You whine at the pleasure that rolls steadily through you, the sound drowned out by Intak’s soft breaths as he devours you whole with his tongue.

This already feels so much better than any night with your ex and you’re feeling a little high from it all. Your hips buck up in frantic little rolls that Intak meets with hard grinds of his own, sending steady shocks of pleasure through your lower body. 

His other hand slides up your shirt to join his other hand in kneading your breasts, the pressure spreading pleasure through your entire body as he continues to grind against you.

You can feel yourself getting heady already under Intak’s hands and you happily welcome it. You didn’t think it could be so easy to get you so strung up without even having to take off your clothes, but here you are.

You can feel the coil in your gut wind tighter with each press of Intak’s throbbing erection against your aching core, can feel the slick gathering in your folds. It has you whining into the frantic kiss and has your hands clawing into his biceps.

He pulls from the kiss with a wet smack, a string of saliva connecting his lips to yours as his mouth falls open to let heavy breaths pass through. He presses his forehead down to yours, his eyes fluttering as he tries to keep his focus intact while his hips keep rocking into yours.

“F-Feels good,” you whisper up to him, gasping at a particular harsh press. 

“Yeah?” He pants, using his hands to shove your shirt up above your chest. 

You hiss at the cool air that brushes over your sensitive nipples. Intak groans at the sight of you, his hips stuttering for a moment before they pick back up at a more frantic pace. He wastes no time to latch his mouth onto your nipple, his hand working the other one as he starts to swirl his tongue around the stiff bud.

You moan at the wet warmth of his tongue on the sensitive flesh, arching your chest further into his mouth. You didn’t think your chest was this sensitive, but it has your hips bucking eagerly up against his, every single sensation over your body climbing down and pinpointing down to your clit.

“Intak,” you gasp, whining sharply when he pops off your nipple and switches to the other one, flicking his tongue rapidly over it. 

You can tell by the way that his hips are starting to lose rhythm that he’s nearing his edge. And, surprisingly, you are too.

“Intak,” you try to warn him but he’s not listening, too far gone as he continues to mouth at your chest, eyes fluttering closed as he continues to chase his pleasure between your hips.

You bury your hand in his hair, pushing him further into you as you drive your hips sharply up against the hard ridge of his cock, and it takes just a few more hard presses of his erection squarely against your cunt for you to teeter on the edge.

Intak notices, and at the same time that he pinches your nipple with his hand, he bites gently down on the one in his mouth and tugs.

The sharp pleasure that bursts from your chest in tandem with a hard grind of his cock against your core has you tipping over the edge. You tense all over as your mouth falls open into a high whine, before your body jolts and trembles through your first orgasm.

Intak follows you right down, whimpering into your chest as his hips stutter through his own orgasm, giving a few more sharp grinds before his body goes slack, weight dropping fully onto you.

His head rolls on its side on your chest, your nipple popping out of his mouth as he heaves for breath. You lay there, twitching and reeling from your high.

A few moments of silence pass as you stare up at the ceiling, trying to even out your breaths and process the fact that Intak has just made you cum for the first time that wasn’t by your own hand.

Reluctantly, Intak lifts himself up and looks down at you with a crooked smile. “Well? Didn’t I say I never leave my girls unsatisfied?”

You let out a breathy laugh as you meet his twinkling eyes. “Uh huh.” Just with a little bit of grinding, he managed to hold true to his words. You’re both impressed with him, disappointed with your ex for not even holding a candle, and disappointed with yourself for doubting him. “That was… better than I thought.”

He hums, leaning down to peck your lips before he pulls himself up and off of you despite the whine you let out when his warmth is ripped away from you.

“Sorry,” he says sheepishly as he adjusts himself in his sweats. He’s wearing a dark pair so it’s difficult but you can still see the darker shade of the wet patch over his crotch. It has a pathetic shock of heat pulse through your core at the thought that that was there because of you. “I can’t stay for long. The others are waiting.”

“Right,” you say as you fix your shirt, pulling it down over your chest. You’d nearly forgotten there was a line of boys out there in the living room waiting for their turn to make you eat your words. “…I don’t stand a chance, do I?”

He chuckles at that, turning to walk through the door. “Not at all,” he says, turning his head and throwing you a wink over his shoulder. “Good luck.”

Then he’s gone, and you’re left laying there wondering who’s next— what’s next. It almost frightens you how quickly you find that tightness in your gut livening up again as you go through all the possibilities in your head.

You’re not left wondering for long before Jongseob steps through the door, looking pretty normal for the most part. But you see the light shake in his hand as he holds up the large bottle of water he brought in with him.

“Jiung’s orders,” he says as he walks over to your side and uncaps the bottle. He doesn’t hold your gaze for long before his eyes flit to the bottle he’s holding out for you.

You feel a warm wave of familiar fondness for your maknae as you take the bottle of him, feeling a little relieved that it’s him instead of someone like Jiung or Theo. You’re not quite ready for whatever that might be just yet. Or Keeho for that matter.

You pull yourself up to sit, wincing from the sensitivity between your hips that still lingers. “Thanks.” You take the bottle from him and drink, grateful for the wash of cold as it soothes your heated insides.

He’s a little awkward on his feet as he shifts on them, waiting for you to put the bottle aside on the nightstand before he speaks up. “You doing okay?”

You huff a little laugh as you lean against the headboard, looking up at him. “Uh huh. Just didn’t think I’d be proven so wrong, so quickly.”

He raises a brow at you as a teasing smile pulls at his lips. “Oh, so is our little experiment done then? We’ve proven you wrong already?”

“Nope,” you say, finding a surprising sense of confidence in his presence. “You guys promised me six ways. I better get six ways.”

His smile widens into a grin and you get a glimpse of his cute little snaggle tooth. His nerves seem to ease away as he falls into the rhythm of your familiar back and forth. “One orgasm in and you’re already calling the shots?” He taunts, climbing onto the bed and bracing himself with his knees on either side of your thighs. He hovers over you, taking your chin to lift your gaze up to him. “Bold. I like that on you.”

You blush at his sudden change in demeanour but you can’t lie; it’s spurring your spent body back to life quicker than you’d expected.

“What about you, Seobie?” You ask, placing your hands on his thighs before sliding them up to his hips over the smooth fabric of his track pants. “Where’s all this confidence coming from?”

His thumb brushes against your lower lip as a small smirk plays on his lips. He’s the picture perfect image of cool and collected, just like he is on stage. It’s a hell of a sight up close to you under the dim of your lamp instead of flashy lights. It feels more personal, like he crafted this confidence just for you.

“I guess you bring it out in me,” he admits, pressing his thumb against the plush of your lip.

You let your tongue flick out and kitten-lick against the tip of his finger, letting it linger there for a bit. His eyes darken and he takes a careful breath in before letting it out in a sigh that sounds a bit strained.

“If only I got to take my time with you,” he mutters under his breath, and the words leave you wondering. 

“Is there a time limit?” You ask him when his hand falls to the side of your neck. 

“Yeah,” he says, brushing his thumb up the hollow at the side of your neck. “15 minutes.”

You stare at him for a moment. “…That’s it? That doesn’t feel like enough.”

He grins in response. “Well Intak did it in time. You don’t think the rest of us can?”

“Well, no— I don’t know,” you huff, a little flustered. “What happens if we don’t finish in time?”

“Then you don’t get to come and I get a bruised ego,” he says then drops both his hands to your waist. He slips his hands under your shirt then slides them up your already tingling skin, pulling the shirt up as they go. “We can’t have that, can we?”

Electricity and heat zip down your spine in tandem when his hands don’t stop and your shirt lifts up over your chest, exposing your skin to the cool air. You lift your arms up to make it easier for him to pull the shirt completely off of you.

You sit there, half-bare under Jongseob’s prying eyes as he tosses the shirt aside somewhere on the floor. You can see him tenting against his pants as he shuffles off of you, his hands reaching for the waist of your sweats.

“May I?” He asks politely but it’s undercut by the way his eyes remain locked on your exposed breasts. 

You don’t feel shy under his gaze though. You almost feel revered by his appreciative stare. You lift your hips in silent assent and he takes the cue to slip the sweats off of your legs and tosses them to join your shirt.

He’s quick to pry apart your legs and settle on his knees between them, his eyes finding a new target to lock onto; the wet patch on your thin cotton panties. 

“Shit,” he mutters under his breath, reaching to grab himself over his pants and squeeze as an attempt to quell his arousal. 

You flush under his attention now, feeling a little too exposed. Your legs twitch to close but he keeps them apart with a hand on your knee.

He brings the hand down, and with a feather light touch, he runs his thumb against the thin fabric, sliding a line of pressure up your centre that has your walls fluttering. You hiss when his thumb finds your clit and presses down, still a little sensitive from your first climax.

“You’re so wet,” he muses before moving his thumb down and pressing against where your entrance would be. He groans at the wet sound from the pooled mix of your release that Intak left behind and the arousal that’s starting to leak under Jongseob’s ministrations.

“Jongseob,” you whine, pressing your hips up in search of more than just light touches. 

He clicks his tongue, looking up at you with a lazy smirk. “Impatient. You’re already eager for more? What, Intak wasn’t enough for you?”

You shudder at the way his words chastise you just the right amount to have you needy for his approval. But you don’t want to give in that easily. “Maybe,” you say, rolling your hips up again to press against his hand. He doesn’t pull away. “But isn’t it your whole job to give me what I want?”

He retaliates with a harsh press of his thumb against your clit with a scary precision given that he can’t even see it. It has you yelping and jerking away from his hand. “You’re lucky I’m not Taeyang,” he says, and the warning hits you in the gut. “Or that mouth on you wouldn’t get off so easily.”

You don’t get a chance to interrogate him before he’s hastily shoving aside the fabric of your panties and exposing your heated folds to the cool air. Jongseob squeezes himself again with a low grunt when he sees the slick mess there. 

“You’re drenched,” he huffs, under trance by the sight of you for a moment before he snaps out of it and swiftly pulls off his shirt, leaving your mind blanking momentarily. 

You rarely see him shirtless, but when you do, it’s a treat to see. Especially now.

Then he’s shoving down his pants and boxers down to his thighs and grasping himself, stroking tightly as he watches your gushing folds, and your mind goes blank again.

He’s pretty; thin but long and curved and flushed at the tip, milky pearls of arousal leaking at the head with each drag of his fist. 

You’re snapped back to focus when he grabs your thighs and pulls you down on your back, lowering himself between your hips.

“Wait,” you say quickly, and Jongseob pauses immediately to look up at you, just letting himself hover while he waits.

“Yeah?” He asks, brows furrowing in concern.

You swallow, a little embarrassed and underprepared. “Are you… going to put it in?”

The concern washes away and he chuckles fondly. “No. That’s not for nowt,” he says before he lowers his body down to brace on his elbows on either side of you. Then you feel the heft of his cock press down on your folds, a pressure that has you both sighing. “Just this,” he says, lowering his eyes on yours.

You feel him throbbing against your clit, hot and solid against your sensitive folds. It feels nice, but you’re still left confused. “Just this?” You ask, the doubt clear on your face. You don’t see how you could possibly come from that. 

But the smirk that grows on Jongseob’s lips tells you otherwise. “Just this.”

Then he shifts his hips so he slides down your folds, and when the head of his cock catches against your clit and sends a wave of pleasure through your core, you think, oh, that’s how.

His smirk stretches to a lazy grin when he sees the realization in your eyes and he drags himself back up, the friction giving you another shock of pleasure. “You like that?” He asks, then takes a sharp breath in through his teeth when he drags back down. 

You nod, your hands clutching onto the wiry muscles of his bicep. 

His movements are slow and methodical; each drag meant to place pressure against you just right and string you up slow and steady, a stark contrast to the frantic chase with Intak.

“Did that asshole ever take his time with you?” He asks you through grit teeth and it takes a second for you to process that he’s talking about your ex.

“N-No,” you answer through a gasp when his tip prods sharply into your clit on a thrust up. “H-He wasn’t really… ah, patient.”

He clicks his tongue. “No wonder he couldn’t make you come,” he mutters bitterly before he shoves himself off of you. 

You’re about to protest but then he’s sliding your panties down your hips, cursing at the way strings of slick connect to it as he pulls them off your legs. He doesn’t let himself linger on the sight of you fully exposed as he gathers both of your legs and throws them over one of his shoulders. Before you can question him, he’s sliding himself in between your thighs, right on top of your folds, and using the slick mess there to start fucking your thighs in a steady rhythm, his tip pushing deliciously against your clit with each thrust.

You moan, deep breaths falling through your lips at the stimulation. The sight of him poking through your thighs and the hood of your cunt with each thrust leaves you feeling heady. “Fuck, Seobie,” you whimper. You watch the way he leaks from his slit, dripping down onto your pelvis and pooling there. 

His hips falter when he hears the name fall from your lips, then braces himself with his arms around your legs, then starts to fuck against your cunt with a fast pace that has you both panting.

You can feel the coil in your gut wind tight again with each drag of his hard length over your throbbing clit. The sight of his face, flushed and blissed out with hooded eyes fixed on your face, has your head swimming. You’ve never seen him look that intense before, even when it comes to work, and it makes you falter realizing just how different this side of him is from what you’re used to. 

It’s a thrilling revelation that has you quickly approaching your second climax.

“Seob,” you say through a hitched breath. 

“Yeah?” He asks, getting a dark little grin on his face as he tilts his head back, eyes fluttering shut at the heaven between your thighs. “Gonna come for me already?”

“Yes,” you gasp, your hands fisting into the sheets as your body bucks up with each impact of his rough thrusts.

“Gonna make you cum,” he says through grunts, though you’re not sure if he’s talking to you anymore. “Gonna make you cum— unlike that bastard. Couldn’t even— fuck— couldn’t even touch you right. Probably couldn’t even find your clit— the fucker.”

He’s muttering the words to himself as his thrusts grow faster and more disjointed. But it’s doing nothing less to bring you over the edge.

His dark eyes fix on you again with something akin to bitterness among the desire. “Come for me then,” he says, then adjusts so the head of his cock angles to drive right into your clit with each sharp, pointed thrust, sending burning pulses of pleasure with each push. “Come for me like you never came for him.”

Your second orgasm hits you before you know it and you come with a yell of his name and your body arching off the bed. Jongseob follows after with a few more frantic thrusts, spilling ropes of hot release over your stomach.

He doesn’t stop— he keeps going, drawing you both down from your highs before rocking to a slow stop just before he can drive you into overstimulation. He keeps your legs hugged to his chest as he recovers, breathing heavily as his eyes take in the sight of you painted with his release.

You’re not sure if it’s your post orgasmic haze dreaming it up but you think you see a hint of possession with the way he eyes you. You don’t get to dwell on it before he presses a kiss to the side of your calf and slowly releases you.

It’s when he’s cleaning off your stomach with his shirt after having fixed himself up that you realize you haven’t gotten to kiss him.

“Jongseob,” you say, still splayed out on your back and stealing back your breaths. 

He pauses and looks at you with his brows raised. “Hm?”

“Kiss me.”

The sudden request has him blinking to process and then blushing abashed, like he hadn’t just come on your stomach. “Oh. You want to?”

“No,” you say flatly. “That’s why I asked.”

He smiles sheepishly before he leans down and presses his lips to yours in a sweet, short kiss. You hum in content when he pulls back, smiling up at him. “Thank you,” you say, then tap his chin playfully. “Better than anything he’s ever done for me, combined.”

That has him blushing even brighter and he looks away with a shy little laugh. He finishes wiping you down then pulls the blanket that’s been shoved to the edge over you, giving you some cover before he goes.

“Do I really have to worry about Taeyang?” You ask him before he closes the door behind him.

Jongseob looks back at you and gives you a grin that does nothing to ease your worries. “You’ll just have to wait and see,” he says, then shuts the door behind him.

You groan to yourself, dropping your head back on the pillow. You should’ve gone into this by making them tell you all of their plans in detail so you wouldn’t have to be kept on your toes. But you can’t deny that it does make this more exciting.

Because even though you’ve already come twice, you have to squeeze your legs shut to soothe the way your core starts to spur back to life at just the possibility of the kind of danger that Theo might bring with him.

It’s Soul’s soft voice that pulls your eyes from the ceiling and towards him as he steps into the room a few minutes later.

“Hi,” he says as he makes his way over. He looks— normal. Nothing off the ordinary; no nerves, no eagerness, just plain intrigue as he peers at you laid out under the blanket. He wastes no time to jump onto the bed and sit on his knees by your legs.

“Hi,” you reply fondly, watching his hand as it lands on your covered knee and just holding there as a simple form of physical connection. A common occurrence with him, and it's no different even in this situation. Everything about Soul, everything that he does, always has you feeling endeared towards him.

“Are you tired yet?” He asks, round eyes flickering over the shape of you under the covers. 

“Yes,” you answer, but then think otherwise as you take stock of yourself. “No. Eh, I don’t know.”

That gets a little giggle out of him, his thumb digging gently into the notch in your knee. “I hope not. There’s still a lot more planned for you.”

You let out a slow breath at the reminder. “Yeah,” you pause, then look over at him. Soul has always been an honest one, so you take your shot. “Are you going to tell me what you’re going to do?”

He gives you a simple nod, then says, “I’m going to eat you out.”

Your face burns at the bluntness but you can’t say you didn’t expect it. Though it seems like there was no rule to keep things hidden from you; Intak and Jongseob probably just wanted to see you squirm. 

Your eyes fall to his pretty pink lips and you’re already envisioning them on you. Even knowing what’s about to happen, you’re still just as on edge as you were with the others.

His hand shifts to grab the edge of the blanket that lay by your side, not yet pulling. “Is that okay?” He asks you, polite as ever.

You’d never imagined Soul, the innocent looking boy you've smothered with your affections for years now, to be here before you, asking you if you’re okay with him making you come on his tongue. It’s disorienting enough to leave you craving it.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” you say, hoping you don’t sound as eager as you feel.

But Soul has an eerie way of reading people. He catches on, you can see it in the twinkle of his eye, and with an excited grin, he pulls the blanket off you.

You have to resist the urge to cover yourself by digging your hands into the sheets. Soul’s eyes practically sparkle as he looks over you, a little like he’s caught in a trance. 

“Pretty,” he mumbles quietly, like it wasn’t meant to be said aloud.

You squirm when all he does is stare for a few more moments. You nudge your knee against his leg to pull him out of his daze and he spurs back to life, shuffling to kneel between your legs, his hands crooking under your knees to push them up and hold them apart.

You squirm some more when his eyes lock onto the wet mess between your legs and his tongue darts out to lick his lips.

“Shota,” you whine, nudging your foot against his arm. “Don’t just stare.”

He giggles but doesn’t move his eyes. “Sorry,” he says as he climbs down onto his chest, pulling your knees over his shoulders. His lips hover just over your core, breaths brushing over you and sending prickling sensations through you as he speaks. “You’re just so pretty. I can’t help it.”

You swallow back the moan that bubbles in your throat at his words. “Wait,” you say before he can do anything else.

He looks up at you now, brows raised. “Hm?”

“Can you take your shirt off?” You’re feeling a little too exposed with him fully clothed and you very much not. But also, the sight of Soul shirtless is a treat. It would be a shame to let those muscles he takes such good care of go to waste in a moment like this.

He’s smiling despite the blush that climbs high on his pale cheeks. He pulls himself up, yanks his shirt off in one go, before quickly settling back into position.

You mourn the sight of his abs being so quickly hidden away but then his arms are coming around your legs to hold you down, one hand settling palm-down on your lower stomach, and you can’t complain anymore when you’ve got his muscled arms in your view in all their veiny glory.

He laughs softly at your appreciative eyes. “Better?” He asks with a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh.

You sigh at the warmth it spreads up your leg. “Very.”

The smile remains on his lips as he trails his way down your thigh with warm kisses. You feel teeth graze lightly against your skin with each press that his tongue flicks out to soothe over, effective in the way it has you squirming where you lay as he inches closer to your waiting heat.

But just before he can reach it, he switches over to the other leg and you’re left sighing in frustration, your hips bucking up without your permission.

You feel his amused giggles against your thigh as he gives it the same attention as the other. 

But as you watch him, so intent in the way he winds you up slowly just like Intak and Jongseob have done, you’re left to wonder just how much you’ve been missing out on. Being tended to so carefully, it makes you feel a little floaty. 

Before you realize it your hand lifts from where you’d dug them in the sheets by your side and reaches to slide into his soft blond hair.

His eyes flutter at the touch and he abandons your skin in favour of leaning into the touch for a moment but you can’t complain, not when he turns his head to press a kiss to your palm. It has a warmth bloom inside your chest, snug and soothing.

But then the warmth shoots right down to your gut when he turns and attaches his lips to your clit without warning.

You hiss at the sudden pressure, your fingers digging into his scalp. You glare weakly into the mischievous glint in his eyes as he looks up at you.

“Still sensitive,” he says against your clit, making you twitch.

“No shit,” you huff, breaking into a moan when his tongue flits out and starts to press firm circles around the bud. Your body tenses as your mouth falls open with harsh breaths, your hand tightening in his hair.  

Soul takes in every shift in your expression with his eyes as he drags his tongue down before letting it circle around your entrance.

He groans at the taste of you on his tongue, the vibrations sending you whimpering. He abandons his careful ministrations in favour of flattening his tongue against you and drinking up every bit of the mess that’s been left behind from your previous encounters.

Your hips push up to grind against his face but his hand on your stomach keeps you easily pinned down as he has his way with you.

Breathy moans from your lips spill out from the rapid flicks of his tongue against you and the way his little grunts spread little embers of sensation right through your core.

You only just notice the way his own hips are grinding into the mattress and the knowledge that he’s that turned on from just pleasuring you has your head reeling.

The blunt tip of his tongue pushes against your entrance, but it doesn’t stop this time; it pushes in with ease and leaves you gasping. 

“Sh-Shota!” Your hand pushes down on his head of its own volition, trying to push him as deep in as he can go.

You feel it deeper than you expect it, the wet muscle prodding and sliding against your pulsing walls. When he groans, you feel it inside you.

His arms can’t restrain the way you’re squirming anymore with how hard your body’s starting to tremble. Every sensation feels like it’s dialed above ten with sensitivity. You don’t feel uncomfortable to have something breaching inside of you like all those times before with your ex; it actually makes you feel relieved and not like you’re being invaded. And you feel like you’ll lose your mind if it doesn’t stay in, doesn’t move.

So when you start to roll your hips up to fuck up against his tongue, Soul lets you, and pushes his tongue in tandem with your movements.

And when the tip of his nose rubs right against your clit with every movement, your control is gone.

You’re not sure what sounds are leaving your mouth but you don’t care, you just keep chasing the pleasure, keep fucking yourself up on his tongue, practically riding his face.

You start to fear you’re suffocating him and when you try to pull back, Soul buries himself right back into you. He’s whining against you, his eyes lidded and glossed over as he drowns himself in your cunt, and the rocking bed reminds you that he’s just as into this as you are.

It’s the combination of that, the pussy-drunk look on his face, and the way his tongue caresses your walls with each thrust that has your thighs clamping down on his head as you ride out your third orgasm right on his face.

Soul’s body shudders with a loud moan into you as you come around his tongue and he drinks you right up, not letting a single drop go to waste. He licks you through the high before he detaches from you with a soft kiss to your clit that does nothing to ease the tremors still rocking through you.

He lifts his head and you nearly moan at the sight of him; cheeks flushed, lower face drenched with you and eyes glazed over, looking practically drunk off of you and ready to devour you whole again.

“Jesus, Shota,” you mutter, having to raise your eyes to the ceiling to keep yourself from losing your mind again at just the sight of him like that between your thighs.

He responds by climbing up your body and kissing you eagerly.

You tense, taken aback by the sudden taste of yourself but you’re quickly coaxed into the kiss by his eager lips and tongue. You melt into the kiss, snaking your arms around his shoulders and pulling him down on you. He follows, pressing every inch of himself against you. 

You’re stopped short when you feel the half hard length of him pressing on your thigh along with a noticeable dampness on his shorts against your bare skin.

You pull back from the kiss, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Did you… come from that?”

He doesn’t even look the least bit embarrassed as he nods and dives right back for your lips.

You’re powerless to stop him; too boneless to do anything but you can’t say you want him to stop. He dives eagerly into your mouth again and you meet him with a languid pace of your own, not that he minds.

You can feel your mind start to float away again as his hands eagerly wander over your body, grabbing and kneading every curve of your flesh as they pass, paying special attention to your chest.

He’s hardening quickly against your thigh as he eagerly bucks his hips against you, seemingly lost in his mind just seeking out any bits of pleasure.

You reach down for his erection, to help him out like he’s helped you, until he’s yanked up off you. 

You mourn the loss with a panicked noise, trying to reach to drag him back to you. But your hands drop right back down when your eyes clear and you see Keeho holding Soul back with an arm around his throat.

Soul’s hands fly up to Keeho’s forearm as he blinks out of his own haze and comes into realization of what’s happening. His face flushes when he sees Keeho, who looks annoyed but no less amused. “Hyung,” he croaks, a little nervous.

Keeho raises a brow at him, a scolding look. “You’re way past your time, Shota,” he states before snapping those piercing, heated eyes to you.

Your heart jolts when you see the way his pupils are blown open in a heavy desire that pushes your breaths back down your throat.

“And you’re stealing mine,” Keeho adds, all amusement gone as his voice deepens into a threat.

Keeho releases Soul and Soul quickly scampers off the bed, grabs his shirt, and practically runs out of the room without another word.

But your eyes are stuck under the heavy weight of Keeho’s and you feel your body thrumming with a fresh wave of nerves.

His lips quirk up into a small smirk but there’s no mirth there. “Having fun?” He asks as he climbs onto the bed, on his knees so he hovers over your trembling body. When you don’t respond, he clicks his tongue. “I asked you a question, pretty girl.” The implication of what might happen if you don’t answer settles dauntingly in your head.

“Yes,” you quickly answer, and he smiles as he moves to lift your legs before settling to sit between them. You tense at the thought of picking right back up without a chance to recover from Soul. “W-Wait, I need some time.”

“Too bad,” he says easily as he reaches over to grab one of your pillows. “That’s something I don’t have right now.”

Without your control, your body shuffles away from him, like it’s trying to protect itself from the danger behind Keeho’s words. But his hand clamps down on your thigh and he pulls you easily back towards him.

“Where you going, pretty?” He asks you with a sly grin that has you squirming. “Don’t worry. You won’t be complaining in a few minutes.” He pats the underside of your ass. “Up.”

Your brows furrow. “What?”

He sighs before he hooks his arm under your waist and lifts you easily, shoving the pillow he grabbed under your hips before dropping you back down.

The way he’s able to handle you so easily has your stomach flipping and your eyes locking onto the way the material of his shirt stretches around his bicep as it flexes when he moves.

He notices your leering and grins, using his hands to push your legs apart. This new angle, hips propped up on the pillow for better access, has you feeling even more exposed. Your legs try to close on their own but Keeho quickly pushes them apart, clicking his tongue. “Keep ‘em apart for me,” he says, leaving you no room to disobey, so you don’t.

His eyes lock onto your cunt, and if possible, his gaze darkens. “Cute,” he says, glancing up at you. “Just like the rest of you.”

You avert his gaze, flustered, and he chuckles fondly. You’re not sure where all your confidence has gone. You suppose it’s different with Keeho, your leader, as opposed to your younger members.

“Cute,” he repeats before pressing his palms to the inside of your thighs, heavy and warm. “Have you taken anything inside yet?”

You swallow, feeling a little embarrassed to have to say the words aloud but you’ve been laid bare and exposed to your friends in so many ways already so it really shouldn’t feel so awkward anymore. Yet still. 

“Shota’s tongue,” you answer in a thin voice, and he hums in acknowledgement. 

“Did it feel good?”

You take in a shaky breath, your walls clamping around nothing like they’re remembering the feel of Soul’s tongue stretching them.

Keeho notices the way you flutter and chuckles. “That’s a yes then.” His palms start to slide down a path on the insides of your thighs slowly. “Has it ever felt good like that before? Having anything inside?”

You can’t bring yourself to say it, so you shake your head no.

The look in his eyes softens as his palms rest just outside of your heat. “Everyone treating you well so far?” He asks you, rough voice dulled into something gentler.

Your lips are helpless to the small smile that tugs on them; even now, Keeho upholds his leader role. He’s always been the one to look out for you and it puts you at ease to know that it’s no different now.

“Very,” you answer honestly. “Better than I could’ve imagined.”

“Good,” he says, mirroring your smile and leaning down to press a soft kiss to your knee. “This whole thing’s been about showing you how you should be treated. Sounds like we’re on the right track.”

You hum when his hands gently knead the flesh of your inner thighs. “Yeah. Guess I was wrong to think— fuck!”

Your thoughts as yanked right out of your head when Keeho pushes a thick finger inside of you all the way to the hilt in one smooth slide.

You look up at him with wide eyes. “Keeho!”

The grin on his lips is careless and predatory as he watches the way his finger sinks into you so easily. “Sorry baby, but I don’t have that much time left thanks to Shota.” He keeps his finger still as his other hand comes down and presses the thumb lightly against your clit, making you jolt. “Good thing you’re so sensitive.”

That’s all he says before he starts to pump his finger into you while his thumb circles your clit in quick, tight circles.

The touch to your clit feels more painful than pleasurable from the sensitivity, and it has you trying to buck away as high, frantic whines leave your lips, but Keeho is quick to hold you down with his forearm.

“Shh baby,” he whispers, pressing another kiss to the inside of your trembling knee as he continues to abuse your cunt with his quick pace. “It’ll feel better soon.”

And he’s right, because even though it burns, the pain slowly embers away into a pleasure that has you bucking up to his finger rather than away.

Keeho, who’s watching your expressions with a laser focus, grins when your features smooth down with pleasure. “That’s it, good girl,” he whispers and the words go right to your head and fill it with a hazy fog. “So good for holding out. Think you can take another one for me?”

Your breaths come out with little whines as you nod, eyes starting to go bleary.

“Say it for me,” he urges gently. “Need to hear you, pretty.”

You blink rapidly as you try to push the word through the fog in your head and out of your mouth. “Y-Yes,” you breathe, voice weak. “Can— ngh— take another.”

You feel his finger inside of you slow then feel the blunt tip of another start to press in with the next thrust. Just the two fingers feel almost overwhelming, a rougher feel than Soul’s tongue, but your walls, relaxed from three orgasms, take him in without protest.

Keeho’s thumb on your clit falters when he sees how easily you take him in. “That’s a good girl,” he coos, then pushes both fingers as far as they’ll go.

You whimper, feeling them so deep inside you, deeper than anything you’ve felt. And you’re left wanting more.

“More,” you plead, your hips rolling up to feel them press deeper despite already pushed all the way in. 

You think you see Keeho’s eyes flash with hunger but your mind is far too gone right now to pay close attention. 

“Fuck,” he grunts under his breath. “I’m gonna need you to myself sometime.”

Then he’s fucking his fingers into you relentlessly, his thumb spurring back to life over your clit to match the reckless pace.

You’re thrashing and moaning unabashedly, though you don’t have much control over any of your reactions anymore. Your hips buck up pathetically to meet his pace but he’s far too fast for you to keep up with. He has you feeling like liquid fire as he takes you apart with just his fingers and you can tell there’s no way you’ll last even the next three minutes, far too sensitive to every stimulation.

Then he does something you don’t quite understand. He stops, curls his fingers inside you, then resumes in a way that has the tips of his fingers abusing a spot inside of you that has you feeling the fire all over your body, has you arching off the bed as you scream out his name.

“That’s it,” he whispers, doubling down and pumping his fingers even faster.

But now there’s a new feeling in your gut, something you’re not familiar with at all and something strangely like you might be releasing things you very much don’t want to.

Your hands claw at Keeho’s arm that holds you down, trying to push him off but he’s like iron. “K-Keeho!” You cry through a trembling voice, trying to warn him with wide eyes.

But he doesn’t stop, keeps his heated gaze on your panicked face. “Don’t fight it,” he tells you. His fingers are relentless against that spot inside of you and has you barreling to something much faster than you’re prepared for. “Just give into it. I got you, baby. Come for me.”

That’s when it happens. Liquid, a lot of it, spraying out of you as your body jerks violently through your orgasm.

This one pierces through you harder than the others, electric fire that has your vision white and mind blank for how long, you can’t tell, but you just know that you’re gone. 

It takes you a while to piece yourself whole, barely though. When your vision slowly strings itself back together, it’s to the sight of Keeho staring down at you, wide-eyed and slack-jawed and soaked from his chin to his shirt to his forearm with his fingers still buried in you.

You’re struck with the terrifying thought of what you might have just done and you feel yourself grow cold with mortification.

“Oh my god,” you whisper, feeling tears prickle at your eyes as you try to scramble away from him. “I’m sorry, shit, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what just—“

But before you can get far, Keeho grabs your hips and pulls you right back to him, leaning over to crush his lips to yours in a hard, searing kiss.

You yelp in pain at the hard clash of teeth and you barely get to process the kiss at all before he pulls back enough to mumble into your lips. “You just squirted,” he says, like he can’t quite believe it himself.

You blink up at him as he stares you down like he wants to ruin you all over again. You had no idea that you could even do that, or that it could be brought out of you so quickly.

Keeho grins at your shock before sealing his lips back over yours, swallowing your little whine of surprise. “I’m keeping you,” he mutters into the kiss as he digs his teeth into your lip. “Jiung can go fuck off, I’m gonna make you squirt for me again.”

You don’t get to protest that you can’t until another voice behind Keeho intercepts.

“Can I now?”

It’s Jiung’s voice, deep and irritated, as you hear it close in.

Your eyes fly open to see Jiung stood over you two by the bed, his hands shoved into his pockets. He doesn’t look happy. He looks impatient, brows furrowed and jaw clenched. 

Keeho still doesn’t pull away from you; his fingers dig deeper into your hips and he kisses you more insistently like he’s trying to take as much as he can before you’re taken away from him.

“Keeho,” Jiung says in a tone that promises threat. It’s a tone that does dangerous things to your brain.

Keeho pulls back from your lips reluctantly, gaze locked onto you as he tells Jiung, “She squirted,” like it’s pertinent information.

It must be, because you see Jiung’s hard expression falter with shock before settling down into something more intense.

“Okay,” he responds slowly. “Now move.”

Keeho rolls his eyes but slowly pulls himself up to his knees, reluctant to let you go. You can see him straining against his sweats and realize with a start that he hasn’t come.

“You haven’t…” You start but break off when both of their eyes fall on you. 

Keeho shakes his head with a lazy grin. “Don’t worry about me.” He pauses then turns to Jiung. “Actually, can I stay and watch?”

Jiung doesn’t hear him, he’s too busy taking in the mess that is you. You can practically feel the weight of his gaze drag down your skin like a tangible force.

“Hm?” He asks, distracted. When he processes the words, he pulls his eyes off of you but it looks like it takes him great effort to. 

Keeho rolls his eyes and adjusts himself with his hand, wincing a little. “Mind if I stay?”

Jiung watches him quietly, considering, before he looks back at you. “That’s up to her.”

You freeze under both of their gazes. As much as the thought intimidates you, you can’t help but feel thrilled by it. Besides, you would feel a little guilty sending Keeho off without any relief even if he can handle it on his own. Everyone else has finished with you, so it would only be fair.

“Fine by me,” you concede, and Keeho lights up.

Jiung interjects before Keeho can celebrate too early. “You can’t interfere,” he says sternly, then points to the reading chair in the corner of the room. “Go sit there.”

“So bossy,” Keeho muses but he’s still grinning as he clambers off the bed and makes his way to his assigned spot. “Just pretend I’m not even here.”

A hard task, considering the fact that you can still see him at the edge of your vision and he has a perfect view of the scene. But the concept of a third party still has your head spinning in a new direction.

Your attention is dragged back to Jiung who climbs onto the bed and sits himself at the end with crossed legs. You pull yourself to sit up on shaky limbs, still recovering from your intense climax, folding your legs over your chest for some semblance of cover.

You’re grateful that Jiung doesn’t look like he’s ready to pounce anytime soon, eager for the chance to recover for whatever he might have in store for you.

That makes you wonder what it is that Jiung chose for his turn. You’re well aware of his dislike for physical contact so you’re not sure how to picture him in this setting.

Though the way his dark eyes settle on you, ready to tear you apart with just his gaze alone, has you questioning everything you know about him.

“You haven’t been drinking your water,” he says plainly, and even just that simple observation, the thought of him being upset with you in any capacity, keeps you on your toes.

It’s his voice, you think, that drives you crazy; a deep timbre that invades every corner of your head and settles at the base of your chest. Like it crawls everywhere around you and holds you down under its submission without your say.

You snap out of your trance when he narrows his eyes impatiently at you, flushing. “Oh.” You look over at the bottle that remains nearly full.

Looking at it makes you realize just how parched you are so you snatch it and swig down nearly half the litre. You think you might hear Jiung mutter something along the lines of, “Told you idiots to make sure she stays hydrated,” to the side of the room.

You place the water back down, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. You feel better despite the physical weight of your body trying to lull you down but your mind is still wide awake and on high alert.

You turn your attention back and see that Jiung is still watching you intently, now leaning back casually on his palms. The silence has you itching to break it and ask him about the question that’s lingering in your head but you’re a little intimidated by his gaze.

“Spit it out.”

You nearly jump from his sudden voice cutting through the silence. “Huh?”

“I can see you’re thinking something,” he says, tilting his head slightly. His face is impassive; you’ve never really been able to tell what he’s thinking during quiet moments. But he has no problems reading you. “What is it?”

You bite down on your lip as you wrap your arms defensively around yourself. “You don’t like touch,” you start.

He raises a brow before nodding slowly. “That’s true.”

“So…” You continue, struggling to hold eye contact. “How does this work then?”

You’re not sure what to make of the slow smile that climbs up his lips. It’s not one of his bright, sunny ones. It’s a quieter, more calculating slant of his lips that has you wishing you’d just kept shut.

“Simple,” he answers. “I’m not going to touch you.”

Now you’re confused, but more than that, you’re disappointed. “What?”

“You heard me,” he says, and you’re not sure if you’re imagining his voice deepening by the second. “I’m going to talk you through touching yourself.”

When he sees the blank look in your eyes, his smile widens, almost fond but more so like he enjoys watching you flounder about.

“I’m going to tell you what to do,” he continues, “and you’re going to do as I say. Okay?”

You’re starting to realize where this is heading and the thought floods you with embarrassment. “You’re just going to… watch?” You ask, then glance over at Keeho who’s watching the scene unfold with rampant attention as he traces his thumb lazily over his clothed erection.

“Sure,” Jiung answers, pulling your eyes back to him. “If that’s what you want.”

You’re reminded of what Intak had told you; that you’re the one who holds the power here. You haven’t exactly tested how much of that is true but now you’re starting to think it’s a viable option for you whenever you’d like it. 

It’s that knowledge that has you straightening with a newfound courage. “Okay.”

His brows raise at you, that tiny smile still on his lips. “Yeah?” He asks, and it’s a little bit infuriating that he’s still looking at you like you’re a cute, clueless little thing.

“Yes,” you say firmly, meeting his eyes. “Now are you going to get on with it? Isn’t your little time limit ticking away?”

His jaw ticks at your sudden pushing. “I have some leeway, considering some people—“ He throws a sharp eye over to Keeho, “—don’t have manners.”

“Hey,” Keeho cuts in, indignantly. “Shota was eating my time.”

But he goes ignored as Jiung focuses back on you. “Fix your pillows and lean back. Get comfortable.”

A part of you wants to defy just to see what he does but you find yourself falling prey to the cadence of his voice yet again. You’ve always been a sucker for it. More often than not, you’ve completely zoned out to just listen to the sound of voice rather than what he’s trying to explain to you in the studio, leaving you in an awkward situation when he catches on. You think maybe this is his way of getting back at you with it somehow.

Once you’ve stacked all your pillows behind you, you lean back and settle down, your knees still pulled up to your chest. You don’t find yourself withering under his gaze anymore, not when you know just the sight of you is having an effect on him too by the way he’s starting to tent in his grey sweats.

“Good,” he comments offhandedly, his eyes moving down to your legs, or rather, trying to see past them. “Open your legs.”

When you hesitate, he shoots a sharp look up at your face that has your legs immediately pushing apart to reveal all of yourself to him, your knees bent at your sides. 

You see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows and hear the faint shake of his breath when his eyes catch onto your core, still glistening. It’s starting to pool with a new wave of arousal that’s brought on by just the sound of Jiung’s voice.

His eyes move away with effort and rake up your body, stopping at your chest. “Anyone touched them yet?”

You’re still a little blindsided by how casually he— all of them, really— talk about all of this but you figure it’s about time to just get used to it. “Intak and Soul.”

He hums. “Expected. Play with them.”

It takes a second for you to process the command but when you do, it’s like your hands glide up your body on their own. You’ve never thought to stimulate your chest before on your solitary nights, but now that you know it’s a valid option thanks to Intak, that you’re sensitive there, you’re not opposed to it. You’re just not prepared for your first time touching yourself there to be in front of Jiung.

You take the soft mounds in your hands and squeeze gently. You’re surprised to find it a pleasant sensation under your own touch but it might also just be from the two sets of eyes watching your every move.

“Play with your nipples,” Jiung tells you, shifting slightly in his seat. His eyes are locked onto your hands. “Use your thumbs— yeah, just like that.”

You sigh softly as your thumbs circle around the already stiff peaks, feeling the soft burn of the stimulation spread throughout your chest. You take one between your fingers and tug gently, drawing a soft whine out of yourself. You nearly miss the way Jiung’s cock jumps against the confines of his revealing sweats.

You try and fail not to let that go to your head as you drag your eyes up to his face, the one so threaded with focus on you it’s nearly maddening.

“Jiung,” you say, voice breathy already. 

He doesn’t move his eyes. “Hm?”

“Take off your hoodie,” you tell him, and that gets his attention. “Wanna see your tattoos.”

You preen internally at the light blush that rises on his cheeks. Like you expected he would have to, he obeys. He tugs the collar of his purple hoodie up and pulls it off himself in one smooth go, tossing it to the corner of the bed.

Your hands falter on yourself as your eyes rake over the ink on his pale skin; vines and leaves adorning the sides of his ribs, butterflies tracing over his abs and trailing tantalizingly down beneath the boxers peaking out of his sweats, and the crescent moon placed centre in his chest.

“Pretty,” you find yourself saying and learn then that Jiung blushes down his chest.

“Take one hand off,” he says hurriedly, like he’s trying to take the situation back under his hand. But you can see the way that his chest has started rising a little more with each breath.

You obey regardless, dropping your right hand in your lap. 

His eyes move back down to your core. “Spread it open,” he says. “Wanna see everything. But don’t touch your clit.”

You lick your lips nervously, feeling your cheeks burn, but you move your right hand down and slide two fingers between your folds making sure to avoid your aching clit. The heat of your own skin is a nice reprieve until you scissor the fingers open, spreading yourself apart and exposing to the cool air.

You can hear his breath hitch as his jaw clenches at the sight. “You’re gushing,” he mutters to himself, an observation you’re well aware of but has you squirming when you hear it aloud. “Take some of it. Circle your clit. Lightly.”

You expected him to make you tease yourself more but with the choppy breaths he’s taking and the short sentences, you sense he’s starting to lose patience. Or lose time. Either way, you don’t deny yourself the pleasure. 

You collect some of the arousal with both of your fingers then drag them up to your clit. You keep your touch light as you circle slowly, sighing deeply at the touch.

You hear a soft grunt to your left and glance over to Keeho. You’d nearly forgotten about him, but the sight of him has your fingers faltering. He has his hand down his sweats, stroking himself slowly. His head is thrown back against the back of the chair, hair messy over his forehead, cheeks flushed, plush lips bitten red and parted as he pants sharply. His eyes are hooded slits as they watch your hand work yourself, fisting his own cock to match the slow pace of your fingers.

Your gaze is pulled back to Jiung when he snaps, “Eyes on me.” His own eyes are impossibly dark and his jaw is set tightly. “Don’t look at him.”

You give him a small nod, whining softly as you focus back on moving your fingers steadily over your aching clit. It’s hard to not notice the way Jiung is straining against his pants.

“Jiung,” you say through a breath, lifting your eyes back to his face. “Touch yourself.”

Your command takes him aback. You can see the conflict in his eyes to put himself in a vulnerable position to not only you, but with Keeho in the room too. 

Sensing his hesitation, Keeho pipes up. “C’mon, Jiung,” he says, voice light despite the strain. His breaths are audible through his words. “You gotta do what she says.”

So you really do have the power here.

You raise your brow challengingly at Jiung and he finally relents, letting his arousal win, though not without sending you a hard look first.

He leans back on one hand before letting the other slip down into his sweats. He grasps himself in a hard squeeze that has him tilting his head back and letting out a low groan. You want to trace the way that his throat shifts around another groan with your tongue.

He rolls his head to the side to focus his gaze back on you. He doesn’t do much with his hand, just lets it rest there and squeeze himself every few seconds.

“How many fingers did Keeho use on you?” He asks. His voice sounds heavier with arousal.

“Two.”

“Put one in. All the way, and don’t stall.”

You can see the impatience worn clearly on his face in furrowed brows and hardened edges. Without delay, you divert your hand and push your middle finger into yourself in one smooth slide. Even as it presses all the way in you find yourself mourning Keeho’s longer, thicker ones.

“Good girl,” Jiung praises and it goes straight to your cunt, making it pulse around your finger. “In and out, slowly— yeah, just like that.” He looks in a near trance at the way your walls suck your finger in with each languid thrust, leaking steadily around it.

You see his hand start to move now as he starts to stroke himself slowly to match the pace of your finger.

You find yourself cursing those grey sweats for blocking your vision. 

“Stop,” you tell him, and he pauses his hand with a confused albeit annoyed look on his face. “I wanna see you.”

His jaw ticks but he doesn’t hesitate this time. He lifts himself a little, pushing his sweats and boxers down just enough to reveal himself before taking his cock back in his hand and squeezing. “Better?” He asks you sardonically.

Yes, you want to say but your voice is stuck in your throat. Because the sight of him, long and hard and a pretty shade of pink as it strains with arousal, has you nearly moaning.

You push your finger into you a little quicker without thinking and Jiung takes that as his answer. “Slow down,” he snaps, and when you do, adds, “Put another one in.”

You push your ring finger in to join, moaning softly at the stretch but it still feels nothing like Keeho’s. When Jiung gives you the go, you pick up the pace again, a little faster by his order.

You try to prod around to reach for that spot that Keeho had practically torn you apart with but you can’t. Jiung notices the frustration on your face and laughs softly. “We’ll get there. Use your other hand on your clit. We need to get another finger in first.”

You bite down on your lip to hold in your whimper. Your other hand, which was just sitting limply against your chest at this point, falls quickly to press tight circles against your clit.

Everything you’re doing to yourself feels better than you’ve ever managed to make yourself feel in the past. Maybe it’s because of the soft grunts and moans and the slick sounds of skin against skin coming from the corner of your room where you’re forbidden to look at; maybe it’s because of the way that Jiung sits pretty in front of you, fisting his own cock to the sight of you getting yourself off; maybe it’s because of the way that he mutters soft praises to you every few moments and urges you to go faster, slower, deeper, shallower; maybe it’s not the commands at all but just his voice— but all of it brings you closer and closer to another daunting climax.

“Put another one in,” Jiung tells you, his breaths coming harder around his words. There’s a thin sheen of sweat on his skin as he works himself in tandem to your pace. “Need to get you properly stretched out.”

The implication of those words falls past you as you start to press your index finger in with the others, the stretch making your body tense and your other hand falter.

It burns a little but it burns good. The amount of slick still spilling out of you makes the way in easier, and soon you’re steadily pumping three fingers in while your other hand works your clit again, short moans tumbling out of your lips.

Jiung’s breaths are even more laboured as his fist speeds up over himself, his eyes starting to glass over. He’s fighting against them as they keep trying to flutter shut. He’s starting to sound a little ruined too as he speaks. “Hook your fingers up,” he says, then continues at your confused look. “The spot that you were looking for. Hook your fingers. Up.”

You follow his instructions and crook your fingers, but you still can’t seem to reach it. How Keeho had managed to find it with such scary precision, you desperately want to know.

“I-I can’t,” you whine, hating the desperate sound of your voice but you can feel yourself close, so close, but you need that final edge to push you over. The stimulation to your clit isn’t enough anymore, not after everything you’ve felt tonight.

Jiung starts to look a little panicked as his eyes flick over to your nightstand, and you realize he’s probably running out of time.

“Okay,” he says, his hand pausing over himself when he sees your eyes well with frustration. You see the way his cock twitches as it’s neglected but he ignores it in favour of focusing on you. “I can’t touch you, but just listen to my voice—“

“That won’t be necessary.”

Your head snaps to the left. The sight of Theo standing against the doorway with his arms crossed has a sinking feeling intruding the arousal in your gut. Everything stops, like the moment is waiting with baited breath for Theo to take it under his command.

You’d nearly forgotten that Theo was still to come. And when you realize the only thing that could possibly be left for his turn, your body freezes over.

“Taeyang,” Jiung says after recovering from his surprise. “I still have a few minutes left.”

Theo pushes himself up straight, shutting the door behind him with his foot as he makes his way in. He doesn’t acknowledge Keeho, who’s also stopped still and staring with wide eyes, as he makes his way over to the bed. There’s a small smile on his lips, lazy, like he’s only mildly interested in everything that’s happening.

“I gave you plenty of extra time,” he tells Jiung while keeping his disinterested eyes on you. “And you still failed.”

You bristle under his stare but he’s quickly moving on to focus on Jiung, who’s looking more nervous now than irritated.

“I told you I should’ve gone earlier,” Jiung mutters through grit teeth as Theo circles around the bed to hover over Jiung’s back.

“Doesn’t matter anymore, does it?” Theo asks coolly. He leans over Jiung’s shoulder and looks down where Jiung is still holding himself in a tight grip. “Did she tell you to touch yourself?”

Jiung doesn’t answer verbally, only nods. 

“Hm…” Theo lowers his head to rest his chin on Jiung’s shoulder, making him flinch at the sudden contact. “Maybe that was the problem. Maybe you should’ve focused more on her and less on yourself.”

Jiung works his jaw in frustration but stays still. “You said we should listen to her.”

“Should,” Theo repeats with a grin. “The ‘when necessary’ was implied.”

“Taeyang, I swear—“

Theo doesn’t let him finish. “You’re done with her,” he says, easy and stern, as he lifts himself off of Jiung, leaving the other boy wide eyed and incredulous.

“Are you serious?” He snaps, looking up at him with a glare.

“Very. You know the rules,” Theo answers as he makes his way back around to stand at the side of the bed, between you and Jiung. “Get behind her.”

Jiung’s brows furrow, matching your own confusion. “What?”

Theo simply smiles at Jiung as he reads him his fate. “You’re gonna get behind her so I can fuck her on you. And don't even think about coming.”

You feel your insides churn as the words settle, your hands, after unsheathing from yourself while their attention was off of you, curling into the sheets. Everything Theo is saying is so… casual. But he’s talking about fucking you on top of Jiung. That’s far from casual and far from anything you’re prepared for.

But the look on Jiung’s face tells you he’s having it worse. He pales, throat tight as he asks, “Why?”

“Punishment,” Theo says, like it’s obvious. “We set out on a mission here to show her everything she was missing out on. And you failed. So, punishment.” He leans down, invading Jiung’s space and leveling his condescending gaze inches away from his. “Are we clear?”

You can see Jiung’s face twitch as he restrains himself from lashing out. But then he nods, an act of quick submission that takes you by surprise. You start to wonder just what kind of hold your oldest member has over not just you, but the rest of the group.

Then Theo’s eyes are on you where you’re curled up, trying to shield yourself away from whatever was unravelling in front of you.

“Is that okay with you?” He asks you, voice momentarily shedding that commanding edge.

Honestly, you don’t care what happens anymore as long as you get to come again. Even if the thought of Theo being the one to fuck you to it is daunting, with his domineering aura and seemingly sadistic tendencies. But the part of you that’s still loose in the head from everything that’s happened tonight finds you wanting to give yourself over and let him take care of you, let him show you what you’re missing out on, by his words. Even if it was at the expense of Jiung’s sanity. You’ll pay him back later.

“Fine by me.”

A heavy silence fills the room as the confirmation of what’s about to happen settles in the thick air. 

Until Keeho breaks it with a pouty whine of, “Wait what about me?”

He’s still sitting on the chair, splayed out with his legs spread, elbows on the armrests while one hand squeezed around the base of himself. He’d shoved his pants down so you can actually see just how painfully hard he still is, almost purpling at the tip. Your mouth nearly waters at the thought of running your tongue along the thick vein that you can see protruding along his underside from where you’re sitting.

Theo catches your eye with a questioning brow raise. It’s up to you, he says silently with them.

“He can use my mouth,” you blurt without thinking, taking yourself by surprise.

Theo’s eyes flash in shock but his lips quirk up in a proud little smile. “Only when I say you can,” he tells Keeho, before gesturing him over.

Keeho nearly stumbles as he makes his way over to settle at the edge of the bed before shedding himself out of his clothes. You don’t get long to appreciate the valleys of his tan skin, taut over smooth planes of muscles before you’re distracted by Theo. 

Theo, who’s taking off his shirt and has everything else fade away from your focus when you catch a glimpse of the inked crown on the side of his rib cage.

When Theo notices the room in still motion, he rolls his eyes. “What?” He asks, raising a taunting brow at Jiung. “Do I have to order you to do everything now?”

Jiung’s lips twitch down in a scowl. “No,” he says smoothly despite the sharpness in his eyes. He goes to pull his sweats back up but Theo grabs his ankle and yanks him forward, sending Jiung sprawling on his back with a panicked grunt.

“Off,” Theo says sharply down at him, leaving no room for protest as his hand squeezes tightly around his ankle.

Jiung stares up at Theo with wide eyes, red heat climbing up his neck. You don’t miss the way his cock jumps, and neither does Theo.

But Theo shows him mercy and lets go of him, letting him scramble out of his layers and shuffle to the head of the bed where you are.

Your limbs lock up when Theo turns his full attention to you. He reaches forward and wraps his muscled arms around you to pull you forward as Jiung settles behind you. You relish in the warmth of Theo’s skin before he’s placing you so that your back is laying against Jiung’s front while he’s laid back the pile of pillows you made earlier.

You gasp softly when you fully settle against him, feeling Jiung’s erection prodding at your lower back, stiff and hot against you. You hear Jiung hiss softly softly at the contact behind your head.

His skin is warm and a little damp against your back but the feeling of him behind you, his presence just there, is almost grounding. His hands come up to hold your waist but Theo is quick to interject.

“Don’t touch her,” he says sharply and Jiung immediately fists his hands into the sheets.

You hear a chuckle to your right followed by Keeho’s teasing, albeit a little strained, voice. “I’ve never seen him so obedient.”

Theo glances over to share a playful grin. “You just don’t know how to handle him yet.”

“Even after all these years," Keeho muses dramatically. “Might have to take a lesson or two from you, Taeyang.”

“Can you two shut the fuck up?” Jiung snaps in an uncharacteristic show of short temper.

You haven’t heard him like that in a couple years, but hearing his deep voice right by your ear now, rough and sharp as he speaks, is doing things to your body you don’t want to address.

And of course, Theo catches the way your eyes flutter and you inhale sharply, and you nearly wither away under the devilish grin that curls on his lips. “I knew it,” he says. 

You turn your face away from him. “Know what?”

He grabs your chin to turn your gaze back at him. “Don’t try to hide,” he warns. “It’s a good thing I’m feeling selfish right now or I’d let him help me ruin you.”

The thought of both Theo and Jiung working you over the edge together has your walls fluttering. And of course, Theo notices that too.

“Dirty girl,” he taunts as he climbs onto the bed, sitting on his knees in front of you. 

From this close you can see the outline of him, large and heavy, through his loose pants and he’s not even fully hard yet. Your body thrums with nerves at the thought of having to take that size inside of you.

“What’s wrong?” He asks you, smug when he sees the way you eye him. “Don’t think you can take it?”

You grit your teeth, meeting his taunting gaze with a sharp one of your own. “Isn’t time ticking, Yangie?”

He takes your chin in his hand, shoving his thumb into your mouth and holding your tongue down. You whine at the sudden intrusion, trying to clamp your mouth down but he’s firm in the way he tugs down and holds you open. “I think that should be the least of your concerns right now.”

Jiung pipes up in your defence behind you. “Are you saying you’re not biding the time limit?” He’s tense behind you, his voice still tight the way he speaks to Theo.

Theo’s eyes lift to Jiung’s over your head. “If it weren’t for me, none of this would be happening,” he says, and there’s no response from Jiung. Theo looks back down to you, pushing his thumb deeper into your mouth, threatening to nearly gag you. “I think I should get a little leeway for that, shouldn’t I?”

You just glare back at him in response. You’re not sure what it is about him, but he brings out the defiant nature in you. Maybe you just want to see how far you can push.

Theo smiles down at you before pulling his thumb out. “Cute.” Then he’s shoving two of his fingers back in your mouth, deep enough to actually have you gag this time before pulling out halfway and just letting them sit over your tongue.

You blink through the tears that have risen and see that all amusement is gone from Theo’s eyes, leaving cold indifference.

“Do you plan on mouthing off again?” He asks you, in an eerily gentle voice.

You think you might die if things get strung out too long; you’re still aching from not getting to finish from your time with Jiung.

So you shake your head no and Theo pulls his fingers from your mouth. “Good girl,” he says, then moves his hand down to push those fingers into your cunt. 

You gasp sharply, pushing yourself back on Jiung at the sudden invasion, your legs trying to lock shut but Theo keeps them apart. You can feel Jiung’s cock kick against your back but you’re more focused on Theo’s fingers stretching you, shorter than Keeho’s but thicker.

Theo hums, watching your walls squeeze around him as he scissors his fingers open like it’s something clinical, completely ignoring the way you’re whining and writhing at the burn.

“It’ll fit,” he decides before pulling his fingers out.

You let out a shaky breath of relief, your head dropping back on Jiung’s shoulder.

Jiung’s body is taut with restraint behind you, his breaths coming out harshly against your left ear. He’s like stone against your lower back, hot and pulsing. You shift back a little, pushing yourself against his erection and you hear his breath hitch with a quiet whine only you can hear.

“Don’t,” you hear him whisper under his heavy breath. 

It all goes unnoticed by Theo who’s busy working himself out of the rest of his clothes. And you forget all about Jiung when you’re met with the sight of Theo who’s thick enough at only half mast to have your legs clamping shut in fear.

“You’re not going to fit,” you say quickly, panicked as you try to shove yourself further into Jiung. 

“Fuck, stop,” Jiung grunts behind you as he grabs your waist and holds you down to keep you from brushing against him.

Theo doesn’t chastise him but he does point you with a sharp look as he takes a hold of himself, stroking slowly. “You can take it,” he says, using his free hand to pry your knees apart again. “You’ve been preparing the whole night for it. It’ll fit.”

“Still,” you whine, feeling your head rush as you watch him thicken in his grasp. 

You’re still squirming yourself out of Theo’s grip despite him getting increasingly annoyed. 

“Jiung, hold her legs open.”

You hear Jiung scoff over your ear. “I thought you didn’t want me to touch her.”

One sharp look from Theo has Jiung reaching around you to grab you under your knees and pull your legs apart, leaving you exposed and vulnerable to Theo.

You turn your face into Jiung’s neck to hide, still trembling in his hold. You can’t help but feel a little humiliated being pried open like this in front of them, tears starting to prickle at your eyes.

The press of soft, plush lips against your jaw has you peeking out to see Theo an inch from your face and looking down at you with a softer edge to his still heated gaze. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he assures you. “You trust me, don’t you?”

Your eyes flutter closed as you try to take ahold of your uneven breaths. This is your Theo, the one who gives you the sweater off his back when you’re cold, the one who gives you his seat when everything else is taken, the one who’s always the first to make you laugh when you’re down. You take a deep breath and open your eyes, blinking away the tears.

“Yeah,” you breathe, peering up into his eyes, easing down at the soft smile that grows on his lips. “I trust you.”

He lets his eyes linger in yours, searching for any more signs of distress. When he doesn’t find any, he leans forward to press his lips to yours.

The kiss is gentle, grounding, caring— everything your Theo is.

But the soft spell is broken when you feel the blunt head of his cock against your clit. 

He swallows the moan right from your lips before he lifts from the kiss, meeting your wide eyes with his that have lost the softness in them.

“You’re gonna take it for me, ‘kay?” That stony edge to his voice is back and you find yourself falling under its weight.

You nod quickly and Theo kisses you again, hard and searching as he drags the head of his cock down to your entrances and pushes.

You pull back from the kiss, tossing your head back over Jiung’s shoulder as you let out a broken cry. The stretch of him is nearly unbearable and all encompassing. And it’s only just the tip that breaches into you.

Theo’s forehead drops to your shoulder with a strained grunt, his own body going taut. “Fuck,” he hisses, overwhelmed by how tight your walls are around him.

Your eyes blur with tears as you blink up at the ceiling, breaths stuttering past your lips.

“Just breathe,” you hear Jiung’s soothing voice whisper in your ear, his lips brushing against it as he speaks. “Breathe. You got it.”

You follow his voice, follow his instructions as he guides you through taking Theo to the hilt. You open up slowly, swallowing deep breaths to let your body relax and open up for him. The sweet words from Jiung’s lips— that's it, you’re doing so good for us, so good, just keep breathing, such a good girl— guide you through the paces until Theo buries himself fully inside of you with a deep, shuddering sigh.

“Atta girl,” Theo whispers in your other ear, pressing a quick kiss to it. His voice is rough, strained, and somehow still condescending. “Told you you could take it.”

You whine softly in response because your ability to speak, or think even, is muddled out by the full feeling of him practically tearing you open from the inside. But despite it all, it’s a stretch that has you pulsing around him, like your walls are trying to keep him buried inside of you and keep you full.

Theo grunts at the way your body just sucks him in. His hands brace tightly against your hips before, without a warning, he starts to pull out.

The feeling is just as intense, has you crying out and has tears slipping down your face. But he’s not so patient this time. He pulls out in an agonizing drag until just the tip remains before he slowly pushes back in in that same, torturous drag.

It continues like that, until your cries of pain fade into short, rapid moans as the stretch burns away into pleasure.

Your eyes are blurry and your mind is half there, but you can still make out Theo’s strained words clearly. “Taking me so well,” he says through a grunt as he snaps his hips into you at a pace that’s steadily increasing. “Fit so nice and— ah, fuck— like you were made to take me.” He drops his forehead to yours, a thin sheen of sweat gleaming over his skin as his blown eyes bear down on yours. “Weren’t you?”

Your tongue feels too heavy in your mouth so you whine in response, eyes fluttering.

“Yeah you were,” he breathes then pushes into you with a sharp thrust that has you moaning sharply, your hands scrambling to grab onto his arms. “Just made for my cock.”

His hips start to speed up, making sure to drive all the way into you with each thrust. Your body bucks up with each snap, sending you rocking steadily on top of Jiung’s cock.

Jiung is barely holding on behind you; his hands shake as they try desperately to keep you open for Theo, his breaths laboured as they fall rapidly from his lips, his cock throbbing under each rock of your body. It takes great effort to hold back from coming, but he’s already far too close to the edge to where he knows it won’t be possible to hold back for long.

He peers over your trembling body to look up at Theo, his eyes prickling with tears from how painful it’s becoming to hold back.

“Taeyang,” he whispers, and the way Theo’s eyes snap from yours to his, fiery charcoal burning into his own, has him nearly toppling over the edge. He hopes the pleading look on his face is enough to get his question across. But the devil doesn’t make fair deals and Jiung’s got one holding his fate.

“No,” Theo tells him before he turns back to you and starts driving his hips even faster, tossing Jiung right into his own personal little hell as he lays there, neglected and forced to just take.

Theo feels nearly manic at the sigh of both you and Jiung under him, crying for him. But the sight is just too pretty and your walls are so warm as they swallow him in with each rough thrust, that he feels too high off of the power to let it go just yet.

Your eyes are unfocused on him, mind truly well and fucked out after the hours of constant stimulation. There’s a steady stream of moans and whines and babbles of please, please, please’s from your lips that he’s sure you’re not even aware of that spills into the thick air between you.

It goes straight to his cock, pulsing inside of you. But he holds back; he’s not close to done with you yet.

“You’re so noisy,” you hear Theo scold you lightly. 

You can’t process much except for the heavy pressure pounding between your hips at a steady pace and the strokes of fire that spreads from it.

But you hear the command clearly as he glances over at Keeho to your right. “Do something about it, won’t you?”

Before you know it, there's a blunt pressure prodding between your lips. As if on instinct you turn your head and let your jaw fall open to accept Keeho into your mouth, throbbing and salty on your tongue as he starts to shallowly fuck into your mouth.

His face is strained as he looks down at you, eyes wide and glazed over in pure lust. He fists a hand into your hair and holds you in place as he starts to pick up the pace, though it’s already stuttering. 

“M’not gonna last long, pretty,” he pants, hissing with each thrust in. “Fuck, you’re so warm.”

You moan around him at a harsh thrust from Theo, a sound that has Keeho’s cock twitching in your mouth.

“Fuck,” he snaps, his hand gripping tightly into your hair and sending sharp prickles of pain through your scalp. “Fuck it.” 

Then he’s driving his cock deeper into your mouth at a rapid pace, nearly hitting the back of your throat with each thrust and leaving you gagging each time. But he doesn’t stop, just drives into you, pushing your head into him as he fucks into your warm, pliant mouth. “Take it, take it, take it.”

He comes with a loud, strained moan, pushing your head into his pelvis as he pushes all the way in and spills down your throat, cock twitching as it pulses around him.

It’s the way that your head goes floaty when his cock cuts off your air and you’re forced to swallow his cum, and the way that Theo circles his thumb around your throbbing clit, that does you in.

Your body thrashes in Jiung’s hold as your orgasm rips through you. You moan loudly around Keeho’s cock still buried in you as you come over Theo’s cock, tears streaming down your face and your nails digging roughly into Theo’s arms.

You feel Theo’s pace falter as you tremble through your climax, coughing when Keeho finally pulls out of your mouth. 

You’re pretty sure you’re dead where you lay atop Jiung, still rattling from the orgasm as you come down from it.

But Theo doesn’t even give you the chance to recover from it before he resumes fucking you into the mattress, Jiung too by proxy, at the same rough pace.

Oversensitive and overwhelmed, you start clawing at Theo’s arms again, your body thrashing without your control. “T-Tae—!” Your voice breaks off before you can finish. You’re not sure when you’d started sobbing. 

“Five,” Theo grits through his teeth, eyes still swollen black with desire and lust-drunk mania. He’s panting from the effort of fucking into you at the same, maddening pace. “Promised you six. You’re gonna come for me again.” His breaths are short, and his hips are starting to stutter, but he doesn’t slow down. 

You try to protest and tell him that you can’t, but then he’s wrapping his hand around your throat and squeezing down on the sides with his fingers and you get that floaty feeling in your head again, like you’re lifting out of your body. Your body’s starting to feel numb but you also feel everything all at once and you’re not even sure where you’re last orgasm ends, if it even did, and the next one starts, but you’re coming again, body quivering, eyes rolling back, jaw falling open in a silent cry.

The sight tips Theo right over the edge with you as he fucks into you hard, one, twice, three times before he shoved himself all the way in and paints you deep within your walls with hot ropes of his release. He plasters himself down on you as his body gives out but his hips are still grinding into you, rocking his cum deep into you.

You’re not sure when you had passed out— or, did you pass out?— but when you blink your eyes slowly open you’re met with Keeho and Theo’s concerned faces peering down at you.

As soon as your eyes open, their faces wash over in instant relief.

“Thank god, she’s fine,” Keeho says, dropping his head low and sighing in relief. 

Theo turns to Keeho and whacks him on the back of his head. “I told you I didn’t fuck her dead, you idiot.”

Keeho yelps and lifts his head with a glare. “Well, what else was I supposed to think, she went out!”

Theo just glares back at him in silence.

Okay, so you did pass out. But you don’t feel quite awake just yet either, at least not physically. Your bones feel like ten tonne bricks, there’s a sticky soreness thrumming between your hips, and every movement takes a Herculean effort as you try to shift.

The pair of arms wrapped around you, trapping your arms under them, prevents you from moving. You try to shift again but the arms clamp down even tighter and a tiny panicked gasp hits you behind your ear. Jiung.

That’s when you feel it— the thick dampness splattered along your back and Jiung’s softened cock pushed against the small of your back. 

“Hey.” Your focus snaps back onto Keeho as he brushes your hair out of your face. “Are you okay?”

You blink up at him. Besides the heavy limbs, the sore throat, the somewhat bearable ache between your legs, and your syrupy mind, you feel fine— good, even.

“Yeah,” you say, taking all of you by surprise at how croaky your throat is.

Theo turns back to glare at Keeho. “You went too hard on her.”

Keeho whips his head to him, flabbergasted. “You’re one to talk!”

“Guys,” you groan, trying your best to blink yourself out of the fog that’s making your brain feel like soup. “Quiet, please.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Keeho amends quickly. “C’mere, let’s get you in a bath.” 

He reaches forward to pick you up but Jiung’s arms clamp down on you again and yanks you right back down, refusing to let you out of his arms.

Theo and Keeho both turn to Jiung, identical expressions of shock worn on their faces at the uncharacteristic show of clinginess.

“Ji?” Theo asks, reaching past you to touch Jiung but you feel Jiung’s face bury into your shoulders.

Your mind snaps almost fully awake when you feel his lashes flutter against the skin on your neck, damp with tears.

“I didn’t mean to,” you hear him mumble into your shoulder in a tiny voice.

You know what it means, but you let Theo and Keeho figure it out on their own. Theo gets to the answer quicker, a fond but teasing smile pulling on lips.

“You just couldn’t hold yourself back, could you?” He teases, reaching over to affectionately scratch at Jiung’s head but Jiung buries his head further into you and away from the touch.

“I tried,” you hear him whisper. “‘M sorry.”

You feel a wave of fondness wash over you at how small he sounds. He’s never this clingy, never this whiney, and it makes you want to bury him in your arms despite the fact that you can still feel his cum drying against your back.

Keeho seems to feel the same sentiment as he surges forward and somehow wraps his arms around both you and Jiung. 

“He’s so cute,” Keeho coos and that seems to snap Jiung out of it a little, his usual grumpy tone back into his voice as he tells Keeho to fuck off.

You can’t help but giggle at their antics, a sound that has everyone stop short and stare down at you.

Your laugh fades out at the attention. “What?”

Theo’s smile is soft as he pulls the blanket off of the floor and throws it on top of you. “Nothing,” he says, tucking the blanket around the three of you.

“I didn’t think cuddling was offered,” you mumble, but being sandwiched between Keeho and Jiung is something you really can’t complain about.

“You get the full package,” Keeho says, running his hand through your hair, fingers gently scratching down your scalp.

You hum under the touch, eyes fluttering closed. It makes you almost want to purr. “I don’t remember paying for a full package.”

“You’re not paying us at all,” Keeho states.

“Should I?”

He whacks you atop the head with the hand that was carding through your hair and you nearly whine at the loss of his fingers digging into your scalp. “We’re not cheap whores,” he scolds you lightly.

“No, but you sure act like ‘em,” you say then snicker at the affronted look on his face.

“You seemed into it though,” Theo points out as he climbs back into bed, damp towel in his hand and sweatpants back on. You didn’t know when he’d left.

Your cheeks heat at the accusation. “Kinda hard not to be,” you mutter, turning your face into the pillow. 

You inhale sharply when you feel the hot towel press against your back.

“Sorry,” you hear Jiung mumble before he makes quick work of wiping down your back then between your legs, making sure to be careful but even the slightest touch has you twitching and whining.

You feel better wiped clean, comfortable enough to where you start to doze off. But a sharp poke to the forehead has you blinking your eyes open and glaring at Theo, who’s hovering over you with an arm braced between you and Keeho. 

“What?” You snap.

He raises a brow at you. “Well?” 

“Well what?”

“Did we prove you wrong or what?”

You groan as you try to roll away but he drops himself on your chest, effectively trapping you. “Do I really have to say it?”

You feel Keeho’s lips brush against the apple of your cheek, can practically hear the smile in his voice. “It would be nice.”

You sigh deeply. You figure it’s the least you can do, considering the fact that they’d just turned your world upside down. And probably ruined sex with anyone else for the rest of your life.

“Fine,” you huff, trying to come off as gravely inconvenienced but the grin on Theo’s lips has your own smile growing. “Yes, you proved me wrong. Six times over.”

Theo chuckles, breath brushing over your lips as he rests his chin on your chest. “You’re welcome,” he says cheekily and has your eyes rolling fondly.

“So…” Keeho trails off, pulling your eyes to him. He’s trying to smother down his up-to-no-good smile, but failing miserably. “Who was your favourite?” He asks, because of course he would. 

You scrunch your nose, pretending to think. “Definitely not Theo,” you settle on, glaring lightly down at Theo’s still smug face. “He’s an asshole.”

Theo pouts dramatically, not even bothering to be actually offended. “Is that any way to treat the guy who just gave you six orgasms?” 

“What is wrong with you?”

Jiung, who’s still tucked into your side, bristles at that. “Why are you taking credit for all of it?” Jiung grumbles into your shoulder, refusing to detach from you.

“Again, none of this would have happened without me,” Theo answers like it’s just the simple truth. 

You roll your eyes, exasperated. “Okay, then next time we’ll just leave you out of it completely.”

You don’t even get the chance to process your own words before the door to your bedroom is slamming open and Intak, Soul, and Jongseob come crashing down to the floor in a pile of messy limbs, cursing and clawing at each other as they try to untangle themselves.

Intak elbows the other two away and lifts himself up above them, looking up at you with the eyes and eager grin of someone who’s just been told they were nominated for a Grammy. “Next time?”

Jongseob and Soul stop clawing at Intak to look up at you, waiting for your answer with bated breath.

You blink at them, then turn to Theo, who’s looking at you with the same curiosity. Jiung and Keeho’s eyes burn into the sides of your face.

You don’t even have to think twice as you’re dropping your head back on the pillow and smiling up at the ceiling, a deep satisfaction settling in your chest much like the dull, aching one between your legs.

“Next time.”

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© jiuchip

[jiuchip]

ᯓ WAIT, I CAN MAKE YOU CUM TOO — OT6

℘ — p1harmony ot6 x reader    ▸   ⌜ 10.3k ⌟

synopsis ▸ ever since that night, the boys have been nothing but generous to you. so much so that you think it’s about time you give back to them, but of course, they (jiung) have to make things difficult for you: you can’t cum without making them all cum first. what starts as a simple challenge devolves into pure debauchery, and the night falls quickly out of hand. your hand, at least.

δ — nsfw (mdni), smut, unprotected sex, gangbang, meandom!hyung line, switch!maknae line, oral (m. rec), handjob, reverse cowgirl, face fucking, fingering, double penetration, anal, degradation, name calling, dirty talk, rough handling, just a whole lotta filth

ᯓ an — the long awaited sequel to wait, he’s never made you cum before? hopefully it lives up to its predecessor… but this is my gift to you for 2k followers!! still in disbelief, but so so grateful for you all <3 enjoy!

MASTERLIST

In hindsight, leaving your phone unlocked in that den of boundless wolves was a terrible idea, especially with what you left open and forgotten in your search tab in your late night delirium of morbid curiosity. 

But the popcorn was running low and everyone else was too hung up on their pointless argument of the day, so could you really blame it on them when you walk back out to the living room to see them hovered over Intak who had taken your phone to fact check the hot actress’s name?

Yes, but it’s no less mortifying. 

They stare at the screen, jaws agape, some faces (Keeho, Taeyang) beyond amused and some faces (Jiung, Jongseob) beyond red. 

And you have a hankering for exactly what they’re looking at. 

“What,” you start, slow and sharp. “The fuck,” their eyes snap up to you in unison, wide and glittering. “Are you doing?”

It’s silent. 

Until,

“I don’t know, noona,” Intak starts with a wide beam on his face, the apples of his cheeks tinged pink. “Why are you searching up how to give a blowjob?”

The popcorn bowl in your hand clatters to the kitchen counter as you immediately make way to lunge at him. 

But a body intercepts you, catching you around the waist and spinning you away from Intak’s shrieking self. 

“Shota, let me at him!” You yelp, thrashing in his grasp. “Give me back my phone!”

There’s commotion behind you as you continue to struggle in Shota’s iron grip, voices overhauling each other to fight for the phone. 

“Wait, there’s another tab!” You hear Keeho yell, sounding positively overjoyed. “How to please your man in six—”

“Stop!” You cry, thrashing even harder. Your body burns, your head feels dizzy, and you feel like you might actually throw up from embarrassment. 

Shota, sensing your distress, has the decency to let you go. 

You immediately bolt to where Keeho’s sitting on the floor beside Intak, snatching the phone from his grasp before he can even react. 

He jumps back when you do, startled by your speed. “Wait, I wanna see—“

“You,” you snap, ignoring him completely to glare at Intak. You’re seething, breathing heavy, and looking surely vaguely deranged. “Do you have no manners? What makes you think you can just take people's phones?!”

Intak gapes at you, jaw working around empty words as he struggles to defend himself. “I-I just wanted to search up if that was really her—“

“You idiot, I don’t care if—“ You immediately cut yourself when you see his eyes start to glimmer with tears, blinking in an attempt to push them back with no avail. “Okay, that’s not fair, you can’t just cry your way out of every problem.”

He grins then, expression switching in a split second. “Can I kiss my way out of it then?”

Your sputter, Jongseob cutting in before you can. “Please,” he scoffs, roughly shoving Intak’s arm. “Like you haven’t been doing enough kissing.”

Your cheeks flush, mind flitting back to all those mornings that Intak had made you burn your eggs while he kept you distracted with his head between your thighs. It was a lot more than kissing…

“Not enough with how you and Shota are always hogging her,” Intak immediately retorts, shoving him back. 

Memories of morning indulgences fade into late nights in Shota’s chair with Jongseob on the line over a forgotten game, and more late nights in Jongseob’s lap to “keep him warm” while he finishes a round or two. 

“You three are equally terrible,” Keeho cuts in while Shota snickers in the back, then adds under his breath, “Selfish brats.”

He’s not wrong. With how often the younger three steal you away, you rarely get more than a few indulgent kisses with Keeho. 

“We’re getting off topic,” Taeyang, ever the mediator, pipes in. He’s still smirking from where he’s sat on the couch behind Intak, watching you with slitted, mischievous little eyes. “Care to explain?”

Your defenses crawl up your skin, as they always do whenever Taeyang is in the picture. As far as intimacies go since that night two weeks ago, you haven’t shared much with him save for some teasing touches and lingering looks that make you wonder just why he hasn’t initiated anything more like the others. 

Well, like the others except Jiung, the only one who seems to be actively avoiding you. Your eyes glance at him without your permission. He’s tucked himself away to the farthest corner of the big couch, his gaze stuck down to where he picks at his nail. 

You ignore the sting in your chest—whatever, you’re not that greedy.

“If you must know,” you relent with a huff, turning your narrowed eyes back to Taeyang. The only way to fight his can’t-be-damned demeanour is with one of your own. “I just wanted to learn how to repay you guys.”

“Repay?” Shota asks with a blink and a tilt of his head from where he stands.

You shrug your shoulders, dropping onto the bean bag across from where the others are loosely huddled. “You guys have been… giving a lot,” you say for lack of better wording. “And I don’t want to just take and not give forever.”

The grin that grows on Keeho’s lips is smug and a little fond. “Aw, but I like taking care of my princess,” he teases with just a hint of condescension. “You know we like taking care of you.”

The admission is honest. And it makes something warm pool in your belly that’s not just arousal. 

“I know,” you mumble, shuffling to sit up straighter. “But my point still stands. I want to be able to make you guys cum too.”

There’s a pause that settles as they take in your admission, so earnest, leaving you squirming a little in your chair. You think you hear a hitched breath here or there. 

“Yeah?” Intak breathes out eventually, eyes wide and eager as he watches you. “Show us what you learned then,” he says, ever so eager. “From your research.”

Your eyes snap wide open as you peer around the room, keeping your gaze away from the corner. “Here? Now?”

“Is there a better time?” Taeyang asks. He’s leaned back on his elbows, head tilted slightly so that his hair is wisped over his face in a stupidly attractive way. 

You almost glare at him. “I suppose not…”

“Don’t be nervous,” Keeho coos, then starts giggling at his own joke before he even voices it. “Even if we’re not easy it's not like you have to worry about making Jiung cum.”

Your stomach lurches when Jiung’s head snaps up to look at Keeho (and thankfully not you). “What happened last time wasn’t my fault!”

“Oh, then whose was it?”

“It was T—“ He stops himself, seeming to think better as his ears turn pink. He scoffs, crossing his arms. “Doesn’t matter. I didn’t get a proper chance last time.”

“Well, have you tried to redeem yourself yet?” Keeho asks with a shit-eating grin on his face, leaning over Taeyang’s lap to poke at Jiung. 

Jiung pushes himself farther away while swatting at his hand, refusing to look anyone in the eye. “I—That’s not—“

Taeyang snickers, watching Jiung with an equally amused grin. “Embarrassed?” 

They’re scary together, Keeho and Taeyang. You wonder just how much they would push Jiung, how much they have in the past. 

Jiung’s face turns fire red, and it makes you giggle. 

His eyes snap to you, and you purse your lips together, quickly averting your gaze. 

You can see him narrow his eyes at you from your peripheral. “I don’t think you should be laughing,” he says sharply, and it draws your gaze back to him, lips parting in shock. 

“Excuse me?”

There’s a shift in his gaze. You hate to admit how his gaze makes your skin prickle, like being simply acknowledged by him is what your body’s been craving. Gone is the fidgety, nervous mess that Jiung is whenever he would get near you after that fateful night. Before you is the Jiung who’d commanded you with just his voice, the one who’d made you nearly cum on just the sound alone. 

“How about you try it? You wanna make us cum?” He asks, and something about the way his eyes sharpen, the way his voice lowers, it makes you inclined to obey his every word. “Don’t cum without making us finish first. We’ll see who’s laughing then.”

It lights something in your chest, something hot and vengeful. You meet his narrowed eyes with your own. Jiung’s known to be stubborn but you’re no better, especially in the face of a challenge. 

“Does everything have to be a game with you people?” You scoff, though you’re already tracing him over, willing yourself to recall every one of his weak spots. 

Jiung notices, and places the pillow in his lap aside, like he’s giving you free reign to try. It makes you want to claw at him. 

“Didn’t you have a good time last time?” He asks with a raised brow. He shifts to sit closer to the edge of the couch, parting his legs almost in invitation. “Come on. Show us what you learned from your research.”

The way he says ‘research’ with a hint of condescension to his voice makes your head burn with the need to shut him the fuck up. It also makes the space between your legs burn, but you don’t concern yourself with that. 

Six pairs of eyes watch you as you rise to your feet and make your way to Jiung. It almost feels like that night, with you all exposed and vulnerable for the taking, except entirely different because now it’s not just one on one, or three on one. 

You barely survived the last time, and if this leads to anything like that… you can’t imagine how you’ll survive this time. Especially now that you can’t come.

You drop to your knees in the space between his legs, your eyes locked onto his heated ones. They’re dark, almost entirely swallowed by his pupils as he watches you. 

No one says a word as they watch you watch each other. Almost like they’re waiting in bated breath, unsure of who might lash out first. 

“And if I win?” You ask, resting your hands on his knees, a light touch that makes his legs give a minuscule twitch. “What do I get?”

He huffs out a tiny laugh, short and breathy as he reaches to card his hand through your hair, pushing the tresses back and nudging you closer with his hand on the back of your head. “As if you don’t have enough?” He clicks his tongue. “I didn’t take you for being greedy.”

But you don’t give to his push, your lips pulling up when his brows pinch together at your disobedience. “And I didn’t take you for being a pussy.” 

He scowls at you, but you cut in before he can retort. 

“It’s only fair.” You slide your hands slowly up the expanse of his thighs, his muscles tensing under the heat of your palms. You preen internally, at how you have him under the control of your touch this time. Is this what gives Taeyang his giant ego? “Reward and punishment, isn’t it?”

“She’s got a point,” says the devil, Taeyang, himself. He’s not too far now, moved closer to Jiung on the couch. 

Jiung works his jaw, his fingers gripping down and digging into your skull. “We can make you cum however you want. Your pick.” 

The prospect makes you smile. “I can work with that.”

“Good. Now are you gonna shut up and—“ He cuts off with a hiss, head tilting back when you cup your hand over the strained tent in his lap and firmly knead down. 

It’s a nice feeling under your palm, not entirely unfamiliar as Intak had guided your hand clumsily over himself during one of your quick chases for relief, but it’s never been anything exploratory. 

You shift your hand, finding the thick length of his shaft, and slowly drag a tight hand along it over the fabric of his pants. 

Jiung grits back a choked groan, his hips bucking up to chase the touch. 

“So sensitive,” you coo without thought, but you don’t get to savor it before he’s shoving your hand off of him and reaching for his waistband. 

“Don’t stall,” he says, pushing down his sweats and his boxers down to his thighs. You’re reunited with the sight of his cock, half hard as he takes it into his hand and gives it a firm tug. Your mouth goes dry at the sight of him, at the pearly drops gathered at his flushed tip. “C’mon.” He puts his hand on the back of your head again, urging you forward. “Show me what you learned.”

You could fight back. Or you could just make him weep. 

So you give under his pull this time, bracing your hands in his thighs once more, and rise up on your knees to take him into your mouth. 

Your lips wrap snug around his tip, the musky taste of him bursting on your tongue at the first swipe along his slit.

You hum at the unfamiliar taste, following your instinct to give it a suck to taste more of him on your tongue. 

Jiung’s fingers tighten in your hair, digging down to push you. 

You give under the push, sinking down to take more of his length. The intrusion is foreign and makes your throat clench when his tip brushes the back of your mouth, but the details from the article you’d read just last night flit back to you. 

You breathe in deep through your nose and let your muscles relax around him, and only then do you push to take just a bit more. 

It’s too much. Your throat clenches around him uncomfortably and you pull off immediately, coughing into your arm. 

Keeho somehow appears on your left (he must have moved at some point from Taeyang’s side) and reaches to brush your hair back. 

“She’s so eager,” he teases, almost obligatory, because then he’s wrapping a gentle hand under your jaw and guiding you back to Jiung’s cock. “Don’t take too much too quick.”

“We shouldn’t be allowed to help,” you hear Taeyang mumble. 

You flush under the careful watch, wrapping your hand around Jiung’s base as Keeho guides you to take Jiung back in your mouth regardless of what Taeyang says. 

“You’re just a bitch Tae,” Keeho says distantly, too focused on the way your lips stretch around Jiung, who’s already starting to look a little too affected so early on. “She went through all that trouble of learning, best we can do is guide her through it. Isn’t it, princess?” He hums, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to the apple of your heated cheek. He revels in the little whimper you let out, his own cock stirring in his jeans as he lets his hand join Jiung’s to push you down a little further. “You’re gonna take all our cocks aren’t you?” He whispers in your ear, chuckling at the choked sound you give. “Gonna make us all cum like our good little whore?”

He wants to push you more, but he gets yanked back by Jiung’s hand on the back of his collar. 

“Stop interrupting her,” he snaps, shooting him a nasty side glare before turning back to watch you as you slide up to suckle at his tip. 

Keeho rolls his eyes but relents, settling to palm himself through his jeans. He can be patient. For now.

But all of that noise goes over your head, because you’re too caught up in the heady taste of Jiung on your tongue. 

His hand stays a steady presence in your hair, not quite pushing anymore, but there to remind you that he will if he needs to. 

But he doesn’t need to, not when you start a steady pace of sinking down to take half his length then slip up and work the gummy head with your tongue while your hand works whatever you can’t fit in your mouth.

It’s clumsy at first, exploring and learning, but your movements become sharper by the second. The sounds are lewd, wet and filthy, mingling among the heavy breaths here and there not just from you. 

You glance up to see Jiung’s blown eyes steadfast on you, his cheeks flushed, his brows pinched and lips slightly bitten. He’s breathing heavily, a sure sign that you’re doing something right. 

The sight of him shoots electric heat right to your core, where you can feel yourself dampening by the second. Your thighs are pressed together to quell some of that helpless desire, but it’s not enough. Whatever, it’s not like you can do much about that anyway—you’re not sure you can handle one of Taeyang’s punishments if he deems you worthy of one for failing Jiung’s challenge. 

The state that Jiung was left in that night… you don’t think you’d survive.

You look up at him again. He’s got his head tilted back, lips parted as he pants. Your clit gives a pathetic throb—what you’d do to get him in that state yourself. Maybe you really are starting to understand Taeyang. 

Taeyang, who’s sitting at your right and palming himself through his sweats. He notices that you’re peering up through your lashes, of course he does, and gives you a lazy, smug little smile. 

But you don’t pay it any mind, your eyes locking onto the thick bulge straining the fabric. 

Your mouth slows down on Jiung, opting to stay and suckle at the tip as if you’re almost entranced by the sight of Taeyang’s hand wrapped over himself, pulsing down to relieve himself. Your hand gives an involuntary twitch. 

Jiung’s hips buck up, his tip poking up into the side of your cheek and nearly grazing against your teeth.

“Come on,” he whispers under his breath impatiently, and it spurs you back. 

You hollow your cheeks, sucking tightly around his cock as you slide down and up, and Jiung lets out a satisfied groan over you. 

“There you go,” he sighs, nails gently grazing into your scalp. “Good…”

It makes you whimper around him, the sound making him buck up into your mouth again. You can’t really tell if he’s getting close just yet, but you know you’re winding him up to it. Maybe you just need to double your efforts. 

But you can’t, because Taeyang takes the hand you have holding onto Jiung’s knee and places it right over his own erection. 

Your hand twitches at the sudden feel of him, your mouth faltering again, eyes snapping to the side to watch as Taeyang kneads your hand down with the guide of his own hand splayed over yours. 

He’s hot under your hand even through the fabric, thick and pulsing and impossibly hard. You’d nearly forgotten just how big he is. 

Without thinking, you reach up to his waistband and tug down. 

Taeyang smirks, lifting his hips to shuck his sweats and boxers down, letting himself spring free as he settles to sit closer, almost flush against Jiung’s side.  

Jiung doesn’t protest, can’t really when you eagerly grasp Taeyang in your hand. He can’t be that greedy when he’s given you such a long task. And he doesn’t quite hate the pained hiss Taeyang lets out when you drag your fist up his cock, the touch too dry to be pleasurable. 

But Jiung does hate it when you move off of him to reach over and take Taeyang’s cock into your mouth. He also hates that his dick twitches at the sight of your lips stretched around the thick girth as you struggle to take him in and slick him up with your tongue. 

Taeyang’s hand twitches at his side but before he can get his grubby hands on you, Jiung pulls you off of him with his hand back in your hair and not so gently pulls you back to himself. Fuck not being greedy, he is. For you he is, and he’s been watching the others have their fill of you for the past few weeks while all he did was watch from a distance and wallow at his own pathetic self. 

“Jesus,” Taeyang scoffs at his side, but Jiung can’t bring himself to care as he feeds you his cock again, sighing at the warmth of your mouth engulfing him. “Didn’t take you for a pusher, Jiungie.”

Jiung scowls at the nickname, gripping down on your hair when you sink further, enough to have him hitting the back of your throat with each bob of your head. He shudders at the sensitivity. 

“Tired of not getting what I want,” he muttered passively, blinking back the haze that’s starting to cloud his vision. 

Taeyang lets out a pleased groan, and Jiung glances over to see that you’re working him with your fist at the same pace you’re working your mouth. 

He watches as Taeyang’s face twitches each time you pass over your tip, twisting your hand around it with each upstroke. Whatever article you’d read on that must have been good. Or you’re just a natural. 

Whatever it is, Jiung feels a twisted sense of pleasure fester in his chest at Taeyang being so affected by so little. 

“Sensitive?” Jiung asks, not bothering to mask the condescension dripping from his tone. 

Taeyang opens his fluttering eyes and laughs breathily, looking down at where Jiung is starting to subconsciously buck his hips up to meet your mouth. 

“Don’t worry about me,” Taeyang says, brows pinching and teeth gritting when your hand starts to pick up the pace. “Close?”

Jiung doesn’t know what it is that sets off that competitive fire in him, but he thinks that somehow, cumming first would mean losing to Taeyang. And he can’t allow that to happen. Again.

“Not even,” he lies, willing that heat in his gut to loosen. But it’s there and it’s insistent with each swirl of your tongue over his cock, with each little suckle you give his tip every time you drag up. 

“Good. Me neither,” Taeyang says, and Jiung knows it’s a lie too. 

But you don’t notice, far too busy with the cock in your mouth and the other one in your hand. It’s difficult to coordinate with just them, but it becomes infinitely more so when someone settles behind you, lifts your hips, and starts grinding their hard-on against your clothed cunt. 

You moan at the sharp pleasure that bursts through your body. The groan behind you lets you know it’s Intak, and you’re not surprised in the least. 

You are, though, a little miffed when he starts a steady pace rutting into you, distracting you with the heady heat that climbs through your body with his dick slotted right between your aching folds. 

You lose track of both Jiung and Taeyang, your body honed in on the pressure that your body’s been craving for so long. 

And it makes Taeyang impatient, because he reaches over to dig his hand in your hair and starts to guide your head on Jiung with unabashed force. 

Your confused hum gets lost on Jiung as he moans, his hips starting to twitch and tremble under you. 

Another hand wraps around yours on Taeyang’s cock, bigger and rougher than Taeyang’s, and starts to guide your hand at a quicker pace, but with the mess of everything you can’t really care. 

So you shut your eyes and focus, trying to ignore as Intak ruts against you, and hone your efforts. 

It’s enough damage to Taeyang, who knows he’s probably fighting a losing battle because with your hand and Jiung’s hand working his cock, he knows he’s bound to not last. 

And when Jiung sets his mind to something, he’s usually not one to back down (save for some of his more… vulnerable moments). 

But he tries anyway, pushing your head down in Jiung’s lap and forcing you to take him down to the hilt. He only feels a little bad as you gag and sputter around it, but he’s not too guilty when Jiung lets out a choked moan and bows up off the couch. 

But he’s annoying, and he doesn’t cum yet, just spurs his hand over yours to move quicker on Taeyang. 

“You’re a fucking cheat,” Jiung gasps, pushing Taeyang’s hand off to give you some reprieve as you pant and recover. But you don’t waste time, taking Jiung right back down your throat. 

Taeyang’s retort dies on his tongue when Jiung guides your hand to give short, quick strokes at his sensitive tip. He curses as he pulses under the grip, digging his hand into the cushion. 

“You’re just bitter you lost,” he says anyway through his choked grunts. 

His body writhes under the sensation, gasping when your hand twists around the head of his cock before tightly sinking down. His hips start to buck up with a mind of their own, his eyes rolling back when your hand starts those tight, mind numbing strokes along his tip again. 

“You’re a… fuck…” he tries to speaking, but you’re fucking the words out of his head when you move your hand even quicker. “You’re just a s-sore fucking los-er—nngh!” 

Taeyang’s body tenses up off the couch, his head thrown back as he gasps for breath, holding on to the last thread of his control. 

But it snaps when Jiung leans in, whispering into Taeyang’s ear, breath fanning hot against his already heated skin. “Yeah? Then why are you about to cum?”

Taeyang cums with a ragged yell, spurting hot, thick ropes over your rapid hand. Jiung watches his body writhe through his orgasm—and something about the way he moans and whimpers, the way he trembles and twitches under your hand, the way his plush lips part for air, it does Jiung in. 

He curses, grabs your jaw and slides his cock back into your mouth (you’d popped off to focus on milking Taeyang for all he’s worth), and starts to ruthlessly fuck his cock up into your open, pliant mouth. 

He gasps as his orgasm builds, crashing over as he starts to shove his cock deep into your throat uncaring for the way your gag around him. And he seats himself in deep, grinding up into your face as he spills down your throat with a guttural groan, his entire body trembling through the overwhelming crash. 

You start to push at him eventually, and he lets go amidst his daze, his body going liquid into the cushions as you cough his release back over him. 

You’re pretty sure you’re seeing stars, your head spinning and mind reeling all at once. It’s only the insistent pressure of Intak still needily rutting against you that tethers you to reality. 

You don’t really get to recover, because Intak’s arms wind around you from behind and pull you to his chest, seating you on his lap over his needy arousal. 

His breath is hot and damp against your ear. “Can I eat you out?”

You nearly laugh through your daze at just how addicted he is to living with his head between your thighs. But that’s not what tonight is for. 

“No,” you say, reaching back to scratch affectionately into his hair with a pointed grind down on his cock that has him grunting.

You press your lips lazily to his cheek, Jiung’s cum smearing over his skin, but he doesn’t seem to mind it at all as he turns to you and licks it off your lip before kissing you half heartedly, his mind too caught up in grinding against you. 

“Gonna take care of you tonight,” you mumble into the kiss, lifting off of him. 

He lets out a little whine when you disconnect, only settling when he sees you just stripping yourself of your layers. You hear him hastily pull his own clothes too before pulling you in and slotting cock against your ass. 

You gasp as he starts rocking you down, panting into your ear. “Don’t care, just wanna fuck you,” he whines. 

You click your tongue, moving to raise off of him but his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you right back down. 

“Please, noona, just sit on my cock,” he pleads. 

You feel him against the swell of your ass, hard and pulsing with need, practically begging you to.

“You better listen.” 

Keeho’s voice pulls your attention to him as he raises from where he was sitting, his dick sitting long and pretty in his hand as he works it. 

You watch as he closes in on you, stopping to stand right in front of you. He strokes himself slowly as he peers down at you with lust ridden eyes, his tongue flicking out to wet his bottom lip. 

“If he gets impatient enough he’ll just take what he wants,” he says, voice deep and gravelly. He taps the head of his cock against your lip, smearing the wetness, but something tells you not to do anything without his direct command. “But you’re no stranger to that.”

“No,” you say, letting your breath brush over him. You fight a smile when you see him twitch in his hand. “Have you been watching us, Kyo?”

His smug expression falters for just a second before it livens back into a nearly wicked grin. “Maybe I have,” he says calmly, then hooks the head of his cock against the corner of your lips and pulls, popping out before he digs back in just to push against your teeth. 

You still don’t open. 

His brows twitch, a flicker of irritation that makes you smile. 

But not for long; because then Intak bristles under you, seeming to have had enough. He just wraps one arm around you and hoists you up, his other hand guiding his cock against your sopping cunt. 

You gasp at the blunt pressure, at the sheer size of him as he messily seeks out your hole. You’ve never actually taken him before, only seen him once, and you’re quickly reminded of his size, just shy of Taeyang’s. 

“W-Wait,” you try to say, but Intak ignores you completely. You gasp when he hooks against your entrance and pushes at the same time he pulls you down. 

The stretch as he pierces into you is devastating. Your mouth falls open in a loud cry, your walls clamping down and protesting at the sudden intrusion. 

And Keeho takes the opportunity to bully his cock into your mouth, sheathing himself in to the hilt and making you gag. 

It’s all encompassing, the feeling of being full from everywhere. Your head gets dizzier the longer Keeho keeps himself buried down your throat, cutting off all your oxygen as he keeps you pressed to his naval with a rough hand in your hair. Intak ruts himself even deeper and holds there, panting and whining at the tightness around his needy cock. 

You think you might pass out. 

But then Keeho pulls out completely, squeezing down at his base to stave off his quickly rising orgasm. The look on your face almost did him in, cross eyed and empty headed, purely blissed out. 

You cough, gasping for air as you try to recover, but Keeho doesn’t feel like being too nice tonight. 

“Open,” he says, and his dick jumps at how quickly you let your mouth fall open at his command. 

He grins, stroking his fingers gently in your hair as he holds you in place. “Good bunny,” he whispers, then starts to fuck himself into your warm, pliant mouth. 

You take it so well, humming softly around him with each stroke, gagging just a little each time he brushes against the back of your throat. The pace is languid, merciful for now.

Your eyes flutter closed, lost at the taste of him, at the feeling. But Intak looks like he’s about to burst into tears under you. 

He has to tap your cheek to gain your attention again, and when you blink your hazy eyes open, he places his hand under your jaw to lift you a little. 

“Come on, don’t forget about Takki.” 

Realization flits through the daze in your eyes, and you follow his pull to rise to your knees, bracing your hands against his sturdy thighs, nails digging into the rough denim. 

Slowly, you rise, and Keeho watches as Intak’s eyes roll back, as his body slumps back onto the seat of the couch behind him. 

And when you sink back down, slow and like it takes you a great deal of effort to impale yourself on his cock again, Keeho’s pretty sure Intak is gone. 

He just laughs at the sight, biting back a comment about how pathetic you both look, and lets you set the pace and adjust to his size. 

Soon enough you’re bouncing on his cock with ease, moaning around Keeho like a wanton whore as you chase the burning pleasure which each slam of your hips down on his. Your mission remains a weary thing in the recesses of your mind—you can’t cum without making them cum first. 

But it’s becoming more and more difficult by the second to heed to it, because with Intak filling you up, the ridges of his cock stroking every inch of your gummy walls so nicely, all your body wants to do is fuck until you can’t anymore. 

And you nearly get lost in that feeling, nearly let yourself chase that release. 

Until Keeho grips down on your hair and starts to pound his cock into your mouth, uncaring for the way it makes you gag each time he breaches your throat. 

“Fuck,” he hisses above you, his gut coiling at the sight of tears brimming your eyes. But you don’t protest, dutifully taking it as he ruins your throat while you keep fucking yourself down on Intak, though you get clumsier by the second. 

Intak is just a mess—moaning and writhing about how noona feels so good, gonna make him cum—he won’t even bother with that. 

Keeho’s too focused on you fucking yourself dumb, letting yourself be used like this. 

“You’re a fucking cockslut,” he laughs, voice breathy and ragged through his moans. He tightens his grasp on your jaw, digging his thumb into your cheek to feel himself through the barrier. “Bet you’re close from this, aren’t you?”

You nod on him, whining when he stops to rub his tip down on your tongue. 

“Yeah? You get off on being used like a cocksleeve?”

Your body gives a quick jerk, like the words were a physical thing threatening to pull your orgasm out of you. It makes his cock pulse dangerously against your tongue. 

He grits his teeth, cursing before he starts slamming back into your throat, his pace unforgiving. “Just made for this,” he gasps, the coil in his gut tightening each time you gag on him. You’ve stopping moving on Intak, and Intak starts whining under you, trying to fuck him self up and jerking your body with the movements, but Keeho doesn’t care. 

He continues to selfishly chase his orgasm, uncaring for the way you’re convulsing around him. You keep taking it, not pushing, not pulling, just taking. 

And it ruins Keeho. He pulls out completely with a pained grunt, fisting himself frantically to completion, holding you in place by the jaw as you gasp and cough and squirm. Thick ropes of his cum spurt out as he finishes with a low grunt, painting your face in pearly white streaks. 

Your mouth opens subconsciously, trying to catch his release, and Keeho groans, his cock giving another pathetic little kick at the sight. He indulges you, pushing his tip down on your tongue to smear the rest of his release before pulling back. 

You hum at the taste, your body nearly giving out, until Intak, who’s had just about enough, lifts you up and pushes you down onto all fours. 

You yelp, scrambling to catch yourself on your hands but Intak pushes you down with a hand between your shoulderblades, arching your ass up to meet his hips where he still remains buried inside you. 

“Sorry, noona,” he heaves. “I can’t wait anymore.”

Then he starts to piston into you with no restraint, punching your breaths effectively out of your lungs with each slam of his hips. It hurts with how rough he is, but it burns so good that he rapidly drives not only himself to his orgasm, but yours too. 

Alarms blare in your head, and you scramble to push him back but it’s a useless attempt. 

“T-Tak, no, ‘m gonna—“

He doesn’t care, holding your hips with both hands, bracing one foot down on the floor so he can pummel into you even harder. 

“Can’t stop,” he pants, barely sane as he chases the frantic heat. “C-Can’t stop, noona, need t’cum in y—fuck!”

His orgasm barrels through him unannounced and he fucks it out in you, babbling for you to take it. 

It nearly pushes you over. But you’re practically ripped away from him, you cunt empty and clenching around nothing but warm cum, as the world spins around before you’re dumped somewhere. 

That somewhere happens to be Shota on the love seat, completely bare of clothes as he wastes no time to shove his hard cock into you. 

You whine, writhing in his hold at the sudden stretch, though it’s not completely unwelcome. 

“No, stop,” Shota pleads, tightening his strong arms around you. “Stay, I’m so hard.”

“Yeah, noona,” sounds a silky voice from behind you, teasing and light as another wall of warmth hovers at your back. “Stay. Or Shota might cry from not getting his dick wet.”

Shota huffs, rutting up into you. “Shut up, Seobie, just get to work.”

You whine as Shota digs much deeper into you. He’s slimmer than Intak, but longer in a way that makes your toes curl. 

“Pushy,” Jongseob chuckles, pressing a warm kiss to your shoulder before he shifts. 

Your mind drifts immediately, too far removed from whatever Jongseob was doing as Shota slowly, shallowly fucks up into you. Not in a chase for anything, just as something to do as he waits…?

Your body seizes up taut, a ragged gasp ripping from your throat as you feel a wet pressure start to prod against your hole—not the one Shota’s currently buried in. 

“S-Seob!” You yell, squirming as you feel the pressure start to circle the tight ring of muscle. 

“Shh, relax,” he coos into your ear, barely pushing against your hole before he starts to circle it again. “It’s just my finger. Gonna open you up first.”

Fuck, you’d nearly forgotten you’d mentioned to him this was something you wanted to try. But you were too drunk on his cock at the time, delirious to what you were saying. It must have stuck with him, if he came prepared to seize any opportunity.

“B-But I’m supposed t’make you…” You trail off with a gasp when he tries to prod into you again.

He presses another kiss to the back of your head. “You will.”

Your knees tighten against Shota’s waist, your hole clenching in resistance when he tries to push in again. Your clit gives a pathetic throb, brushing against the base of Shota’s dick, and you’re quickly reminded of your burning need to cum. 

So you start whining. 

Taeyang knows exactly why. He’d been watching you intently as the others took their turn with you from where he sat, languidly stroking his newly hardened cock. 

“What is it?” He asks, doing nothing to hide the amusement in his voice. “Need to cum?”

You nod immediately, squirming, but Shota and Jongseob both hold you still. 

“Please,” you sob, your wide eyes flitting over to Taeyang. “Please, just once, need to… please…”

Taeyang’s about to respond, but Jiung beats him to the punch. 

“No,” he says, prompt and final.

Taeyang looks to his right, raising a brow at Jiung who watches on. He’s hard again where he’s tucked himself back into his pants, but he doesn’t touch. He just watches. 

Taeyang would be impressed if he wasn’t a little pissed off by him. 

His gaze turns back to you at the sob you let out, dropping your head to Shota’s chest as you accept your defeat. 

You’re still fidgety and tense, Jongseob getting a little frustrated when he’s not making any progress. So Taeyang, being the generous hyung he is, slips his hand out of his pants and gets up, making his way over. He doesn’t mind helping. 

You perk up a little at his presence, your eyes immediately locking onto where he’s straining against his sweats where it stands almost eye level with you. 

Taeyang scoffs, reaching down to pull himself out. “Come here,” he says, barely having to guide himself before you’re lifting up to take him into your mouth. He sighs at the wet heat wrapping around himself, brushing his thumb against your hollowed cheeks. “That’s it, you feel better with cock in your mouth, don’t you?”

He doesn’t mind helping as long as it gets him his dick sucked. 

You just hum around him, too dumb to properly respond. But it seems to do the trick, distracting you enough as you languidly suck on him to have your body relax. 

Even Shota latches onto your nipple, sucking and swirling his tongue around it to ease a steady buzz of warm pleasure through your body. 

It relaxes you enough that you don’t even notice Jongseob slip the tip of his finger past your rim. Until he starts to shallowly fuck it into you. 

You bristle at the unfamiliar feeling, too sharp and intruding for your body to handle. But Jongseob quickly grabs your hip, holding you down. 

“Easy, easy,” he consoles, rubbing his hand gently along your spine. “You’re doing good. Just relax, let me in. Just breathe.”

His smooth, low voice thrums pleasantly in your head, easing you down. 

You hum softly as Shota switches to your other nipple, sucking softly at Taeyang’s tip as Jongseob slowly pushes his finger in to the second, then third knuckle until his finger sits fully sheathed into you. 

“That’s it, baby,” he coos, slowly pulling it out just to push it back in. He kisses your shoulder at your trembling whimpers. “I know, love, I know but it’ll feel better soon, promise.”

And it does, slowly but surely. 

He manages to shallowly thrust his finger into you, the stretch becoming more bearable by the second. Your little whimpers spill around Taeyang’s cock where it just sits there on your tongue now, waiting, not pushing. 

Soon enough, Jongseob is pushing a second finger in, making your body crumble onto Shota’s chest. But he doesn’t stop, he guides you through it as he scissors you open. 

Taeyang guides himself back into your mouth with a hand on your jaw, the other carding through your hair. “You’re taking it so well,” he says softly, stroking your cheek with his thumb. You melt at the uncharacteristic gesture, blinking your bleary eyes up at him. “You’re just that greedy for cock, hm?”

He grins at the fresh wave of tears that pool in your eyes when Jongseob starts to push the third finger in, pouring more lube over your hole to make the slide easier. 

But it still devastates you, makes you wail when he sits all three of his fingers to the base. 

“That’s enough,” Taeyang says, showing you some mercy as he pulls out to let you gasp the air threatening to leave your lungs. “She can take it now, hurry up.”

Jongseob clicks his tongue at his pushy tone but pulls his fingers out anyway, watching your hole gape around nothing. The comment dies on his tongue as he slicks himself up generously before pushing against the tight ring of muscle. 

You jolt at the heavy pressure, far more daunting than his fingers. Your whine of protest is barely a whine at all, just a broken sound because you’re too far gone for anything else. 

Then he starts to push in, and it feels like you’re being ripped open, impaled by his hard cock, carved out to make space for him. 

You cry out, your nails digging into Shota’s chest at the overbearing intrusion. 

“Easy,” you hear Taeyang say from above, his fingers scratching down into your scalp. “Slower.”

He’s not talking to you, though you wouldn’t have much of a mind to listen even if he was. You drop your weight on Shota, who’s tense under you from how hard you’re clenched around him. 

Soon enough, Jongseob sheathes himself fully in you. And full doesn’t even begin to explain just what you feel. 

You hear your name, gentle against your ear. 

“Are you okay?” Shota asks from under you. His thumb comes up to brush away the tear rolling down your cheek. 

You let out a stuttered breath, swallowing down the tension in your throat. You breathe out, trying to let go of the tension everywhere else. 

Your body eases slowly as it adjusts to Jongseob’s girth, and you find yourself nodding. 

“Okay,” you manage to slur, whimpering when Shota presses a warm kiss to your lips. 

He uses it as a distraction to buck his hips up slightly, an experimental roll of his hips to see where you are. 

When all you give is a soft, pleasured hum as the base of his cock rubs against your aching clit, he starts to slowly rock his hips up until all you’re doing is panting into his lips. 

Jongseob doesn’t move just yet, not until he feels you relax more around him. He’s struggling too, at the death grip you have around him, but when you start to ease up, he thrusts into you once just as Shota thrusts out. 

You tense up again but it’s momentary, a choked moan escaping you. 

Jongseob thrusts in again, and again, then starts to fuck into you at a steady pace, pulling out when Shota pushes into your cunt. 

Your body is completely liquid, molten against them to mould and move as they please, as they take what they want. 

It doesn’t hurt anymore, it’s just a steady stream of burning pleasure that grows hotter the more frantic their thrusts become, the noisier they become as they fuck you in tandem. 

You give yourself to them mindlessly. 

Until Taeyang slides a hand under your head to lift you up, prodding his cock back into your mouth. 

You take him pliantly as he starts to fuck into the tight space, groaning low. 

“Perfect little cocksleeve, aren’t ya?” He gasps mindlessly, twitching in your mouth. 

Your only let your jaw fall wider, gagging around him when he starts to fuck into your throat, but you just take it. 

Shota’s whining under you, pretty scarlet lines blooming on his chest from your nails dig down. “F-Feels so good like this,” he gasps, slamming up into you as much as he can with what the tight space can allow. 

“So fucking tight,” Jongseob grunts from behind you, hands gripping tight on your hips as he pounds into you. “Shit, not g-gonna last long…”

You moan around Taeyang, your own body pushed closer and closer to its limits. Your neglected pleasure won’t stay intact for much longer, but the recesses of your mind still fears what might happen if you let go too soon. 

Taeyang cums in your mouth without warning, pushing in deep to spurt down your throat with a ragged groan.

“Fuck,” he gasps, pulling out as you start coughing, roughly pushing the little bead of release escaping the corner of your mouth back into your tongue with his finger. “Don’t waste it.”

You’re barely recovering from Taeyang, your body jerking under Shota and Jongseob’s brutal thrusts, when Intak shoves his way in, seating himself in your mouth. 

You bristle under the sudden intrusion but Intak holds you in place with a hand behind your head, starting to fuck frantically into your tongue. 

“Sorry, noona,” he breathes, his head tilting back at the warmth of your mouth. “C-couldn’t help it, need to cum again.”

You don’t complain, not that you can, as he chases his pleasure from you. 

Someone takes your hand, wrapping it around their cock for them to fuck into your fist—Keeho, you think, but everything is too blurry now to tell as the four men use your body, fucking you and your mind to tatters practically. 

You start to convulse under the onslaught of sensation, the coil in your gut winding tighter and tighter. 

It’s impossible to stop it now, you don’t have a tethered bone in your body to stop it from happening. 

You try to warn them, but it’s a fruitless attempt. 

Your orgasm barrels through you violently, snapping through your body like lightning as you jerk through it, wailing around Intak’s cock. 

It starts a chain effect, Shota spilling into you with a yell as your cunt flutters around him, Jongseob following soon after with how tightly you tense around him. Your hand and forearm grows damp with Keeho finishing himself in your loose fist, and Intak pulls out of your mouth just to paint your face. 

You’re floating somewhere between heaven and earth, body trembling with incessant tremors, mind vacant from anything but the pure bliss. 

Until the dread settles heavily over you. 

Jiung immediately stands to action when he hears the first sob escape you. 

He pushes his way through the bodies, practically knocking Intak to the ground and shoving Keeho aside, urging Jongseob off of you. 

He kneels beside you at the second sob, pushing his hand into your hair. But you turn your face away, burying it in Shota’s shoulder. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks, his heart climbing up his throat. Were they too rough? Did they hurt you? Fuck, he told them to be more thorough with their prep but—

“I failed,” he hears your tiny voice mumble, and his heart effectively crumbles. 

That’s why you’re upset?

Jiung lets out a breath, nudging Shota. Shota gets the hint, gently rolling your body down as he slips out of you with the hiss, moving aside to give Jiung way. 

But even as Jiung tries to pull you closer to him, you bury yourself further into the cushions. 

“Are you hiding from me?” You hear him ask, and even through the haze you can hear the pout in his voice. 

“I’m sorry,” you hiccup, trying to hold in your sniffles but it’s almost like you don’t have control anymore over your body with it being too spent. He slides his hand under your head, forcing you to face him but you squeeze your eyes shut, turning your face into his palm. You couldn’t meet his gaze. “I-I tried, I really did b-but it was too hard, and I couldn’t—“

Your words die when Jiung seals his lips over yours, softly kissing away your woes in an uncharacteristic show of affection. 

“You did so good,” he whispers into your lips, pulling back to rest his forehead against yours. “Don’t apologize.”

His heart swells at your wide, glittery eyes looking up at him in awe. “Y-You’re not gonna… p-punish me?” You manage to ask through your little hiccups. 

If he were Taeyang he would. But he doesn’t have what it takes. 

“No,” he answers, ignoring Taeyang’s little ‘weak’ from behind him. He’ll deal with him later. He stands up, gathering you in his arms. “Come on, let me get you cleaned up.”

“Hey,” Intak pipes up with a whine, sitting up on the ground. “Why do you get to take care of her?”

Keeho snickers from the other couch. “Yeah, Ung, you’re so selfish.”

Jiung merely kicks Jongseob, who yelps ‘I didn’t say anything!’ on the way to your room, telling them over his shoulder to, “Make her food.”

You stay curled in Jiung’s arm as he carries you to your bed, setting you gently onto it. 

He stands to get a towel from your bathroom, coming back to see you watching him intently where you’re splayed. He has to keep himself from ogling your naked body, clearing his throat as he sits on the edge beside you to gently run the towel over your face, working his way down the mess. 

“Jiung,” you say quietly. 

The sound fills him with warmth. He still doesn’t meet your eye. “Hm?”

“You’re still hard.”

His face burns, and he averts his gaze as he runs the towel between your thighs, whispering a quick apology as he brushes against your sensitive core. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, willing his voice not to crack. 

But then you wrap your hand around his wrist, tugging him down to your body. He goes down, watching you closely as you lift your weak body. 

His back hits the mattress, the warmth of your body engulfing his as you climb on top of him. He's about to protest again and tell you that you don’t have to, until you align your hips and grind down against his hard on. 

He cuts off with a whine, reminded of the arousal festered in his gut from watching the others take you apart. 

A full body shudder runs through him. You relish in the way his eyes roll back at the simple sensation. 

And then you’re on your back, Jiung climbing on top of you. He tugs off his shirt, but you don’t get the chance to admire his adorned skin before he’s devouring you in a deep kiss. 

You make a questioning sound as he slots himself between your legs, but he just shoves himself free of his clothes then presses the head of his cock through your folds, making you gasp. 

“Let me take care of you?” He asks, begs almost, as he teases at your messy hole, his free hand braced on your hip. 

You don’t have the mind to speak. So you just nod. 

Jiung seats his cock into you with one push, his body shuddering at finally feeling you around him. And it’s so enticing that he just can’t hold back. 

He wants to be gentle, wants to coax you to a sweeter release—but he can’t. 

He pounds into you desperately, shoving himself as deep as he can go with each frantic thrust, quickly going dumb in your pussy. 

His arms wrap around your waist to hold you in place as he splits you open, the rough slap of hips and loud squelch of your messy folds the only sounds besides both your ragged breathing. He buries his face in your shoulder, unable to hold back his whimpers. 

“You feel so—“ He whines, breaking apart with a deep groan when you clench around him, his hips stuttering. 

A moan breaks through your chest when he rolls in deep, just rutting against you desperately. Your arms around him aren’t enough to hold on, he thrashes your body in his arms with each buck of his hips. 

“Jiung,” you whimper, pulsing around him when he pulls out just to fuck his tip into you, teasing you in a way that melts your brain. “Ji, please, m’gonna c-cum, can I…”

He slams into you, his cock twitching inside of you before he pulls out just to slam back in, punching yells out of you each time. 

“Cum for me,” he breathes into your ear, then hooks his hands under your knees, folding them at your sides as he pounds into you, thrusting squarely into that gummy spot inside of you over and over. “C-Cum for me… just for me.”

This one doesn’t feel like the last one—when you cum, you break. 

Your vision whites out, your entire body going taut as your arousal sprays out of you, drenching Jiung and the bed. 

It only spurs Jiung on—he fucks you faster as he barrels through his own orgasm, muffling his cry into your shoulder as he pistons in deep and shoots into you. 

When Jiung comes back to his senses, it’s with his head on your chest and Taeyang standing over him with a bowl of ramen in his hand and a disapproving frown on his lips. 

“Taking care of her, huh?” He tsk’s, placing the bowl on the bedside table. 

Jiung just groans, turning to bury his face in your skin. “Fuck off.”

“Careful, don’t wake her.”

Jiung lifts his head to see your eyes closed, your lips parted as small puffs of breaths pass through. He pushes back the damp hair at your head, a soft smile tugging up at the peaceful sight. 

Taeyang snorts at the spectacle. Though he doesn’t quite blame it on Jiung for the dumbstruck look in his eye. 

But he needs to get to work. 

“Okay, be cooperative,” he says, and doesn’t allow Jiung to question before he rounds the bed to the other side and reaches forward to wrap his arms around both you and Jiung, tugging you to the cleaner area of the bed. 

Jiung bristles, opening his mouth to yell at him but quickly snaps shut when you start to stir. 

They both pause with bated breath, sighing when you lull off again with a breath, and Taeyang gets to work. He manages to pull the dirty sheets out from under your and Jiung’s tangled bodies and get fresh ones on. He wipes you clean after, tossing Jiung a towel of his own, but when he sees Jiung just blinking slowly up at the ceiling, unresponsive, he sighs and wipes him clean himself. 

By the end of it, Jiung is tangled with you again and half asleep. 

Taeyang is hesitant to leave, riddled with the urge to climb into the bed and gather you both in his arms (or maybe push Jiung off). But before he can make a sound decision, the door barges open. 

Taeyang hisses viciously towards the door just as Intak opens his fat mouth to yell something stupid surely, his arms suspended above his head where he’s holding up a can of Arizona.

His expression quickly morphs into apologetic when he sees what he’d nearly disrupted—but instead of turning around and leaving, he just pads in and makes his own space at the foot of the bed.

Naturally, Shota and Jongseob follow him in and take the corner edges of the bed flanking Intak.

Taeyang sighs, half considering beating them out with his shoe. He’s still not used to having to share you.

But he watches as Intak immediately picks a fight with Jiung instead (effectively waking him up) about letting him cuddle you but Jiung only tightens his hold on you.

“You’re clingy after sex,” Taeyang says with a snicker.

Jiung’s eyes snap up to him, sharp and eerily fox-like. “So? At least I’m not one note like you,” he grumbles, making sure to keep his voice low as he nuzzles into your shoulder again.

“One note?” Taeyang muses as he sidles into your other side. “Which note is that?”

“Rude.”

It’s not Jiung that answers.

Keeho finds his way into the room with an armful of gatorade bottles, making his way over to the people pile on the bed to hand them out. 

“It felt great seeing Jiung put you in your place,” Keeho says as he climbs on behind Jiung, wrapping his arms around him.

Jiung makes a sound of protest mid sip, trying to shake the other man off but Keeho just snuggles in harder.

“Maybe I should reward you for that,” Keeho adds lecherously, giggling when Jiung glares at him. But Taeyang doesn’t miss the blush tinging Jiung’s cheeks.

“Okay,” Intak starts, lifting his head. “If you three are gonna fuck can you just hand her over to us so—” He cuts off with a loud squawk as Taeyang chops him over the bed.

The sound wakes you, and you stir with huffs and grumbles. Jiung winces when your elbows start flailing out.

“You guys are so loud,” you grit, turning to bury your face into Jiung’s chest, like you’re trying to carve your way in and use him to drown out the noise.

Somehow, after everything, Jiung starts to feel shy at the display. And it only makes Keeho more annoying, who coos and pinches at Jiung’s reddening cheek.

Jiung doesn’t react, hoping he’ll bore himself out.

Intak pouts, still rubbing his head. “It wasn’t my fault, Taeyang hit me!”

Taeyang narrows his eyes at him. “How childish are you?”

Intak whacks his shin. “You’re childish.”

Taeyang sends him a kick, and Intak’s about to hit him again, until you groan. 

“God!” You snap, huffing and lifting your head to glare. “If you’re not here to sleep, leave.”

Intak immediately settles, mumbling a quiet apology as he attaches himself to your leg. 

But Taeyang, ever the contrarian, gets up to leave. “Whatever you want, princess.” 

Nobody protests. By the time he reaches the door, still nobody protests. It ticks him off, making him turn to glare. 

But then he sees you, a peaceful look on your face as you drift back off in Jiung’s arms, the others wrapped around you protectively in various contorted states. Intak had immediately taken Taeyang’s vacant spot to plaster himself to your back. 

Something about the sight tugs at his heart, pulling him back. 

“Fine,” he sighs dramatically, padding back towards the bed. “I’ll stay.”

He doesn’t miss the small smile that tugs on your lips as he climbs over the bodies to settle on top of you, wedging himself between you and Intak despite Intak’s quiet cry. 

“Simp,” Keeho whispers from behind Jiung. 

“Mhm,” Taeyang hums in agreement, shutting his eyes. “Aren’t we all.”

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© jiuchip

[jiuchip]

ᯓ TIE ME UP — KIM JONGSEOB (18+)

℘ — jongseob (종섭) x reader ▸ ⌜ 6.4k ⌟

synopsis ▸ you make a surprising discovery in your friend’s bedroom. you didn’t realize confronting him about it would put you in such a… bind.

δ — nsfw (mdni), smut, dom!jongseob, sub!reader, piwon cameo, bdsm, bondage, shibari, fingering, orgasm denial, light nipple play, unprotected sex, creampie, aftercare, pictures are taken

requested ▸ many people :’) ᯓ an — jongseob being the secret freak in piwon? of course i was going to hop on that

READ PART 2 HERE — MASTERLIST

“Jiung, open the damn door. I need to pee!”

“Well, so do I!”

You grunt out in frustration, banging on the door again but you get no response. “Damn it,” you mutter under your breath, cursing yourself for having that last beer as you look around the hall. 

Jongseob’s door is cracked open. If you remember right, he has his own bathroom attached to his bedroom. 

You don’t bother asking for permission; you’re well past those niceties and he’s too caught up in kicking Keeho’s ass in Mario Kart. 

So you abandon your post by the powder room and shove your way into his bedroom frantically. 

You only pause for a second to take in the surprisingly neat aesthetic of his room. But then your bladder pulses threateningly so you abandon your admiration and beeline to the door adjacent to the entrance. 

As soon as you open the door, your stomach falls and peeing becomes the last of your worries. 

You should’ve just waited for Jiung. 

Because there, hanging from the curtain rod where curtains should be, are ropes and leather binds and—and fur-lined handcuffs?

They’re all black, some with silver hoops and rings, and the only thing going through your mind is who is stowing their bondage shit in Jongseob’s room?

Your first thought is immediately Soul, but then Soul would probably hang them around his apartment loud and proud. 

Theo? No, also loud and proud. 

Keeho doesn’t strike you as the type and Intak wouldn’t be the one doing the tying, unless he had them on the ready for his partners to use on him. 

Jiung… is a bit of an enigma but he would be the type to lock this stuff away in a safe somewhere if he had people over. 

Jongseob doesn’t have any other friends so that just leaves you with… Jongseob.

Your stomach falls again. 

Is Jongseob a secret fucking freak?

The thought shakes you so violently that you jump back and slam the door shut. 

You feel cold. And hot. And like you’re dizzy and about to fall. You need to get out of here. 

So you book it out of his room, crashing right into Jiung as he steps out into the hall. 

“Woah!” He exclaims, grabbing you by the shoulders and pulling you up to your feet when you nearly go tumbling down with him. “Bathrooms free, you can—are you okay?”

You blink up at his concerned eyes as he flattens his palm against your forehead. 

“You look a little pale. Are you nauseous?”

You swat him away, stepping back and brushing yourself down as heat rises to your cheeks. “I’m fine,” you huff, shoving past him to go back into the ruckus in the living room. 

Jiung follows after you. “Don’t you need to pee?” 

But you don’t hear him anymore, your eyes immediately landing on where Jongseob is trying to sabotage Keeho by reaching over his own controller to fuck with him. 

He looks so bright and cheery, giggling all sunshine and rainbows. 

Definitely not like some sort of bondage master. 

“Noona?” Soul asks from where he’s sitting on the couch. He holds a fresh beer can up to you in a silent offer. 

You shake your head, slipping into the free spot beside him and Theo, on your other side, immediately takes his chance to throw his legs on your lap. 

Your eyes stay on Jongseob. And your mind stays on thoughts of those ropes. On those ropes, in Jongseob’s hands. What he would do with them, who he would do those things to. 

Safe to say, you go into a silent spiral. One that keeps you so preoccupied that you don’t even notice it when everyone has gotten up to leave. 

“Hey,” Keeho’s voice rings, fingers snapping in front of your face. “We’re gonna head out. You stay here until you’re ready to drive home.”

You blink out of your daze, tilting your head up to look at him. “Huh?”

“Jongseob has your keys,” Theo says from behind him. “He’s under order not to give them to you when you don’t look like you’ll throw up on yourself.”

You open your mouth to protest but Keeho starts shoving Theo to the door where Jiung, Soul, and Intak are already wrapped up and ready to go. 

“Wait, I can go home!” You try to argue and pull up to your feet, but a hand, slim and surprisingly strong, pushes on your shoulder to sit you right back down. 

“You’re staying,” Jongseob says from behind you, before turning his attention to bid the others goodbye as they filter out of the apartment one by one. 

And then you’re alone. With Jongseob. 

Jongseob, the apparent bondage master. 

Jongseob rounds the couch to tidy up the bits of his living room that are still left askewed even after the group effort to clean up. 

And you watch him, his nimble fingers as he deftly fixes the position of his knick knacks on the coffee table and tv stand. 

He’s always been good with his hands. You wonder if it’s because…

“I saw your bondage stuff in your bathroom,” you blurt against your will. 

Jongseob freezes where he stands. Then he looks over his shoulder at you, and although he doesn’t look nearly as affected as you expect, there’s a tinge of red at the tips of his ear. 

“What were you doing in my room?”

“Had to pee.”

He raises his brow. “Didn’t think to ask me first before going in there?”

You swallow, curling in on yourself at the reprimanding look in his eye. Does he look at his— stop. 

“Sorry,” you say, then tack on like your brain just wants you to make everything worse than it needs to be. “Master.”

He glares at you before he moves on to fix the cushions of his couch. “You think it’s funny,” he says, watching you purse your lips to smother your giggle from the corner of his eye. 

“No, not funny,” you say, wrapping your arms around your knees. “Just… shocked. You don’t seem like the type. You’re all shy and nerdy, ya know.”

Well, now that you think about it, it really always is the shy, nerdy type, isn’t it?

Jongseob seems to agree, if the little smirk he gets on his lips is anything to go by. “Believe what you want,” he says before moving on to his attached kitchen. “Tea?”

“I’m good.”

He’s being surprisingly casual about this. The Jongseob you know, or thought you knew, would stumble and babble his way through an embarrassed explanation. 

But the way he just owns it is… a little headspinning. And it gets you thinking. 

“So, are you a dom or a sub?”

You expect that to be his ticket to kick you out of his apartment. 

But he answers with a calm, “I usually dom.”

“Ah.”

The whistle of the kettle takes over the silence as you’re left to your wandering thoughts. 

“Can I try?”

There’s a clatter of glass against countertop then a sharp curse before a puzzled, “What?”

You rise to your knees on the couch, turning around to face his baffled expression on the other side of the counter that divides his kitchen and living room. 

You didn’t even mean to ask it. But you can’t lie that your curiosity is killing you. You want to—no, need to see him in action. 

“You heard me,” you state, folding your arms over the back cushions. “I want to try.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “This isn’t something you just try. Bondage is complicated, it’s not just some sex thing that you’re probably thinking it is.”

“Okay, then teach me.”

“Are you serious?”

“Deadly.”

He stares at you for a moment that stretches long enough to make you think that maybe this was a bad idea and you should just get up and run away. 

But then he starts walking over to you, slow and leisurely as he eyes you to gauge just how serious you are, and the fact that it makes you feel a little bit like prey keeps you glued to your place. 

He stops in front of you, placing hands on either side of you on the cushions. “Do you understand what you’re asking for?”

You swallow, unable to speak as you stare up at him, frozen under the intensity of his gaze. “Yes?” You not-so-answer. 

“You want to try bondage?” He asks, raising a brow. “You want me to tie you up. Is that it?”

You take in a shaky breath, squirming in your spot. “I-I guess I just want to see you in action.”

“As a dom?”

“…I suppose.”

“And you’re willing to be my sub?”

You pause. You didn’t think about it like that. But now that you are thinking about it, the answer couldn’t come quicker. 

“Yes.”

His brows raise, like he hadn’t expected such an emphatic answer. But a smile, small and satisfied, lifts on his lips. 

“Do you trust me?”

This answer comes instinctively. “I do.”

His smile lifts higher. “Good,” he pauses, letting his eyes roam over your face for a moment. “And if things get… sexual?”

You frown, puzzled. “Isn’t bondage sexual?”

“Not inherently,” he says, folding his arms against yours and lowering just enough so you can feel his breath brush against you as he speaks. “It can be therapeutic for a lot of people. A way to relax, let go of power and responsibility.” He raises a hand to brush a stray strand of your hair back, his fingertips a light breeze against your prickling skin. “As the dominant, it’s my job to guide my submissive safely into that mindset. To let them relinquish power to someone they trust so they can just… be.”

Maybe it’s the cadence of his deep voice, or the soft way that he speaks, or the gentle way that his thumb caresses your cheek. But you think you can already feel the kind of power he can hold. The kind that brings people under. Because even just listening to him now, like he’s guiding you through this conversation, you feel some of the threads of your own control slip into his hand. 

“Sometimes it’s just that,” he adds quietly, his finger tracing down the slope of your jaw before resting under your chin. “Sometimes it’s more.”

You feel stuck under his gaze, warm and all encompassing. 

“It’s whatever you want,” he mumbles.

More. Your brain screams at you. 

“I want more,” you say.

His fingers wrap around your chin in a grip that doesn’t feel as considerate as his words. You wonder distantly if you’ve gotten yourself caught in a trap. 

“Good,” he murmurs, thumb digging into the divot under your lower lip, forcing your mouth to part for him. “I was wondering when the day would come.”

You don’t get the chance, or have much of a mind, to process what that might mean because you’re quickly reminded of your bladder issue. 

“Bathroom,” you say, and it’s so abrupt that he stares at you before breaking into a soft laugh. 

He lets go of you and steps back, but that cocksure smirk of his lies waiting on his lips. “Meet me in my room.”

You take your time in the bathroom to reel in your racing mind and your racing heart. 

You’re about to fuck one of your best friends. At least, you think you are. You didn’t think it was something you wanted but now that you know it’s an option, it’s all that you can think of, all that you find yourself wanting as you pad down the hallway to his bedroom. 

His door is cracked open. You don’t hear anything on the other side. 

You expected him to be the type to have on a playlist. Well, maybe he does whenever he goes vanilla. Does he do vanilla? Or is he strictly—okay, now is not the time. 

You shake your head, taking a steadying breath as you reach for the doorknob and step into the fate you’ve stumbled yourself into. 

There’s rope on the bed. Four neat coils of sturdy black rope on the bed, just waiting for you. No sight of leather or silver rings or handcuffs. 

Jongseob stands across the bed, leaning back against his dresser as he coils a fifth length of rope around his hand. 

He looks up at you when you step through the door, smiling at the blank look on your face. 

“Sit,” he tells you, nodding over to the empty space he left for you at the foot of the bed. 

Even just that simple command has your head reeling. Are you really that easy?

You make your way over on weak knees, sitting yourself down and looking up at him across from you. 

And suddenly this all starts to feel real and not just some distant fantasy that brewed in your head borne out of childish curiosity.

He leaves you stewing in your anticipation for a few moments longer as he wrings his hands around the rope, letting his eyes rake over you. Even the way he looks at you exudes a quiet sense of control. It’s not obvious, but it’s there. You feel it in the way he doesn’t let his eyes stray from you even once, no inkling of nervousness or otherwise from his end. 

“Do you know what a safeword is?” Is what he finally says to you. 

You watch the way his fingers work around the rope before he holds it casually at his front, waiting for your answer. 

“Yes,” you say quickly when you realize you’ve taken too long. 

He chuckles, a little amused. “Are you feeling shy?”

“No,” you snap, shuffling in your seat. You pout when he raises a disbelieving brow at you, twisting your hands in your lap. “Just didn’t think you’d actually agree.”

“We don’t have to go through with—“

“I want to,” you cut in. 

He stops, nodding as he licks his tongue over his smile. “Okay. Then in the case that you do want to stop at any point, we need a system. Do you know the traffic light system?”

“I do.”

He nods, moving over to place the final coil of rope with the others on the bed. “Explain it to me,” he says before moving back with his hands in his pockets. 

You don’t know how he’s being so casual about this. But his nonchalance to it all makes you feel hot, makes that pressure between your hips grow present.

“When you ask me for a colour, I answer with green, yellow, or red,” you start, and only when he nods do you continue, “Green for go, yellow for slow, red for stop.”

“Good,” he says with a smile, and even just that bit of approval makes your heart flutter. “Do you know what shibari is?”

“I do.”

“That’s what I’ll be doing to you tonight.”

You glance to your left at all the coils of rope he’s got splayed out beside you. “So no leather, no chains?”

“Not tonight,” he says and that implication goes lost on you when he leans against his dresser, nods his chin at you, and says, “Take off your clothes.”

Your breath hitches, cheeks burning hot. Right. This is happening. 

You take a steadying breath before you rise to your feet, reaching for the hem of your shirt. You meet his eyes a final time before you pull it off your body. 

His gaze stays locked on you as you undress, and you wouldn’t think he was affected at all by his impassive expression if it weren’t for the tinge of red on his cheeks and the hard bob of his Adam’s apple. 

You leave your clothes at the corner of his bed, not yet meeting his eye as you wait for further instruction.

“Good,” he breathes as he makes his way closer, reaching around you to pick up a coil of rope that he unwinds and folds in half. “Turn around.”

Again, the simple instruction leaves you feeling more affected than you should. You do as you’re told regardless. 

“Hold your arms up and out,” he murmurs, humming in approval when you do. 

You feel him step closer, the heat of his body like a physical weight against your bare skin. Then he reached around you to wrap the first length of rope around your upper chest, tying it at your back. It’s firm against your skin, but not uncomfortable or scratchy like you’d expected. 

You feel his finger slip between your skin and the rope before tugging to test its sturdiness. 

“Not too tight?” He asks and you shake your head. 

“No,” you mumble. “It… actually feels nice.”

His palm presses into the side of your waist as he reaches around you to pick up another coil of rope. “That’s good,” he hums before the warmth of his hand is gone and the new stretch of rope comes around you. 

Each new knot and loop that he adds to your body leaves you feeling more and more like you’re slipping further under his hand. You start to understand what he’d been trying to explain; the expulsion of power, and the appeal behind the notion.

All you can do is stand there as he puts together what can only be explained as a harness around your chest and your shoulders in intricate, symmetric shapes. He moves around your body here and there to check his knots and keep track of his work, all concentrated and stern the way he works his nimble fingers around you. 

He takes this seriously. It makes you feel more at ease. 

“Colour?” He asks you when he’s done with your chest, and it takes you a moment to get your senses together to answer. 

“Green.”

He hums then uses his hands to bring your arms down. He picks up the third coil of rope and uses it to tie your upper arms down to the loops made at the sides of your upper torso, elbows bent to bind your forearms and hands together at your back. 

His work is sturdy. There’s not much space for any movement when you give the binds an experimental tug. 

“You okay?” He asks when he notices you wriggling. 

“Y-Yeah, just…” You flush, relaxing under the ties. “Impressed.”

He smirks softly as he comes to stand in front of you, hooking his finger under the rope between your breasts and tugging lightly to test it. His eyes take you in, lingering at your chest before he reaches for another rope. You feel hot all over, exposed like this under his prying eyes. 

The heat of his hand brushes against your thigh. “Part your legs a little for me,” he says gently, and you quickly comply, watching him as he snakes the rope around your legs and hips, framing your ass and your cunt, circling around your upper thighs. 

It takes great effort to hold in your noises when you feel his hands nearly brush against the intimate parts of you. There’s no doubt you’re wet already, way too turned on than you should be with just some rope around your body. But you don’t need him to know that. 

He does the fifth and final rope in intricate knots to connect the ones between your chest and your thighs, wrapping everything up in a neat little design that you can’t really see. 

When he’s done, he moves to stand in front of you, letting his eyes drink you in. 

“You look pretty like this,” he murmurs, hands brushing down your body before settling at your hips. 

You make a soft, inadvertent noise when his fingers hook under the rope just to feel and appreciate his work. 

“How’s it feel?” He asks you, one hand sliding up your body to cup under the swell of your breast. 

It’s a simple touch that makes you want nothing more than for him to keep touching you, to take advantage of you in a state like this. Like you’re presented to him, all for his own pleasure. 

“Feels good,” you murmur. “Green.”

He hums, satisfied. He moves his hand up, kneading your chest before pressing his thumb into your nipple. You gasp at the sensation as he starts to languidly circle it to a stiff peak. 

“You’re a lot more pliant than I thought you’d be,” he muses, lifting his other hand to give your other breast the same attention. “I thought I’d have to teach you some manners.”

You swallow down a moan but it comes out in a whine anyways when he pinches your nipples, tugging at them once before his hands settle on your waist again. 

“Wanna be good,” you manage to say, and the way he smirks at you gives you the ridiculous urge to drop to your knees and call him master. 

“Yeah?” He asks, tongue flicking over his lower lip. “Wanna be a good girl for me?”

The words rush to your head and make your needy cunt throb. You nod immediately, never mind the fact that it’s probably pathetic how quickly you’re giving into him. 

His fingers dig into your flesh between the ropes. “Use your words, pretty girl.”

“Yes,” you say immediately. “Wanna be good for you.”

“Good,” he whispers, eyes darkening as they rake down your figure again. “Lets start by getting you on the bed, hm?”

You nod and he moves around you, taking hold of the knot between your shoulder blades to steer you onto the bed, guiding you to the head of it before he handles you onto your side. 

You go willingly, not that you have much of a choice under all the binds. But you welcome the lack of choice, the lack of a need to do anything. Because Jongseob is there to do it for you. 

“Can I take a picture?” He suddenly asks you. You follow him with your eyes as he rounds to the foot of the bed, his eyes not leaving you once. “A Polaroid. Just one without your face. If you decide you don’t like it after everything then you can burn it.”

The thought of Jongseob wanting to have you immortalized like this does questionable things to your mindset. And you don’t hate the idea of seeing what you look like through his eyes.

So you agree. “You can.”

He doesn’t waste time, digging out his camera from his dresser before he steps back into place. 

“Say cheese,” he teases once he lifts the camera, pointing his lens at you. 

You giggle softly, complying despite it being completely useless as he snaps the picture. 

You blink your eyes clear of the flash as he rounds the bed and places the camera and printed film on his bedside table. 

Distantly, you wonder just how many pictures he has like that in his collection. 

You don’t get much time to mull over it when he knees his way onto the bed. It hits you that he’s still fully dressed in his dark slacks and oversized black button up, and you’re only in rope. 

It feels a little humiliating. And it only makes you more wet. 

Without another word, Jongseob puts his hand on your hip and rolls you as far onto your back as he can given that your arms are in the way. 

He seems completely mesmerized by the sight of you on his bed like this, eyes greedy as they drink you in. 

“I couldn’t be more glad for someone invading my privacy,” he mutters under his breath, sliding a hand under your thigh to part your legs. 

You hiss at the cold brush of air as you’re exposed. He only grins when he catches sight of the state you’re in. 

“Looks like I’m not the only one either,” he chuckles. 

You mewl in embarrassment, turning your head to bury into his pillow but he catches your chin, turning you not-so-gently to bring your eyes back to him. 

His smile is gone, replaced by a stern, hard look that does nothing to help the mess between your legs. 

“Eyes on me,” he tells you, right before he passes two of his fingers through your slick folds. 

The feeling it sends through you feels all the more intense than it normally would from something so simple. 

You gasp, body jerking under your binds when his fingers swipe through again to gather your slick. When your head tries to fall back, his grip on you tightens to bring your rolling eyes back onto him. 

That hard expression stays on his face as he watches you intently, taking in every shift in your expression. 

“Colour.”

It takes you a second to process but you whimper out an emphatic, “Green.”

He hums, then uses his slick covered fingers to start circling your clit. 

Your body trembles under the sensation, short moans leaving your lips but you don’t make the mistake of trying to look away from him again.

He lets go of your chin, opting instead to hold up your thigh when your legs try to close. 

“You’re dripping so much already,” he says with a small smirk, eyes shifting back down to your twitching cunt. “Just from being tied up?”

You whine, starting to writhe as his fingers pick up the pace, flicking rapidly against your throbbing nub. “Can’t—nngh—help it.”

“Of course you can’t.” He laughs, short and low. “Keep your legs apart.”

You don’t get much time to process the order before he lets go of your thigh, his hands shifting so the thumb of his left finds its way to your clit while the middle of his right starts teasing at your entrance. 

Your legs move to close at the sudden onslaught of simulation but one of his hands comes down on your inner thigh with a sharp smack that has you yelping, a stinging sensation left lingering on that sensitive skin. 

“What did I say?” He snaps at you and you whimper, forcing your legs open, struggling to keep your bleary eyes open and on him. “Good.” His hands move back to your cunt but they remain still. “Colour?”

You swallow. Your entire body trembles but it’s nothing if not excitement and anticipation for more. 

“Green,” you breathe and his fingers spur back to life, thumb circling your clit in quick, tight circles as his finger starts pushing into your hole. 

You don’t bother trying to stifle the whines and gasps that tumble from your lips, knowing he’d probably reprimand you if you tried.

Your body lies taut under the ropes, twitching and writhing uselessly. It’s just like you wanted; you’re left pliant for him to use however he likes. 

His finger sheathes fully inside of you, staying pushed in for a moment before he starts to slowly fuck it in and out. The filthy sounds from how slick you are makes you want to turn and hide and close your legs, but you don’t. 

You stay good, keeping yourself open for him as he fingers you towards your climax with an almost clinical focus with his eyes latched onto the way your pussy swallows him in. 

“Fucking gushing around me,” he mutters, slowing his fingers down just to watch how your slick gathers at the base of his knuckles. 

Then he pulls out and instead pushes two of his long fingers all the way in. 

You moan, head rolling back, but he doesn’t reprimand you this time, too focused on fucking you with his fingers. He doesn’t stop this time, working his way up to eventually push three fingers into you. 

The stretch is mind-numbingly good, better than anything you’ve been able to do to yourself and far better than anyone else has ever done for you. 

Maybe it's the situation. Maybe it’s the position he has you in. But whatever it is, it drives you to your climax faster than normal. 

You clench around his fingers, and he sees it in the way that you flutter around each thrust that you’re close. 

“Close already?” He asks with a crooked grin, seeming all too pleased with himself. “I just got started.”

You whine, hips jerking under him when his thumb presses into your clit. “S-Seob, please, don’t stop, ‘m gonna…”

Your words give way to high, frantic whines as he pushes you right to the edge. 

Only to pull away as soon as you were about to tip off. 

You cry out in frustration when the warmth of his fingers pull away and you’re left empty and pulsing around nothing. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he says, looking down at you with a smile that is anything but warm. “Did you think you were at liberty to tell me what to do?”

Your veins run cold at the sudden shift in his tone. It’s icy, just like his gaze as he looks down at you. It’s rampant with a hunger of his own, but it’s a hunger to see you ruined than to fuck you the way you want. 

He clicks his tongue. “Guess you do need to be taught a thing or two.”

Before you know it, you’re on your knees. He uses the robes to grab and move you, pushing your face down into your pillow with one hand on the rope between your shoulders while the other drags your hips up. 

He lets out a breath, slow and shaky, at the sight of you being presented to him like this. 

“You were made to be put like this, weren’t you?” He coos, large hand cupping your ass, fingers digging into the soft flesh. 

He hooks his fingers under one of the ropes framing your cunt, tugging at it to pull you flush against the hard ridge of his boner through his slacks. He grinds forward with a breathy groan, pushing him further into you. 

“Feel that?”

You whimper, rolling your hips back for more of that pressure but he only pulls back with a chuckle. 

“You’re a needy thing,” you hear him mumble, followed by the sound of his belt and zipper coming undone. 

You wait with bated breath as you listen to the shuffle of clothes, aching more and more with each second that goes by that your needy cunt goes neglected. 

“Seob,” you whine when nothing still happens. 

“Thought you wanted to be a good girl, hm? Good girls are patient.”

You let out a frustrated breath that borders on a sob, turning to bury your face further into his pillow as you lay there, waiting. 

Until you feel the blunt head of his cock press right against your clit. 

You bristle, but his hands bear down on your hips to hold you still as he clicks his tongue. “You’re flighty. Colour?”

“Green,” you muffle out, not even bothering to hide the desperate tone in your voice. 

He chuckles at it, starting to guide his cock through the slick mess of your folds though not yet sating your ache to be filled. 

But you don’t dare make a peep about it, afraid that he would just string it out even longer if you did. 

So you just take it as he traces his tip through every crevice of your cunt, pushing against your entrance just to pull away and guide himself down to your clit, circling you there, then gliding all the way back up to the base before repeating it in a torturous routine. 

It’s a mind reeling game that leaves you panting and quivering and dripping for five, ten, however many minutes as he just teases you like this. 

It doesn’t matter that he’s desperate to sink his aching cock into the warm, velvety walls that are literally weeping for him. He needs to know that you understand just how this works. 

When it seems that you do, when you’re just whining mindlessly and drooling into his pillow and just taking his teasing with no complaints, he finally gives in. 

He presses in, just until the tip, and pauses, watching as your pliant body seems to liven back up under the stretch, bristling under the binds. 

You whimper his name so softly, but that’s all that comes. No begging for more, no trying to fuck yourself back on to him. Just simple reaction to whatever he’s giving you, with no other choice but to just take it. 

“Good girl,” he breathes, manic at the prospect of breaking you in so easily, before he lets himself sink all the way in. 

You moan, loud and broken at the feeling of finally being stretched to the brim. 

There’s no more waiting. He starts fucking you with intent, holding on to the knots keeping your arms together as he drives his cock into you at a steady pace. 

He’s long and curved perfectly to brush against that sweet spot in you with each precise thrust, pushing you closer to your lost climax quicker than you could’ve hoped for. 

You lay there and take it, sobbing his name into the pillow as you take every bit of overwhelming pleasure. 

He breathes your name, quiet and reverent as he fucks you at a relentless pace. “So good,” he gasps, his free hand coming around to tweak at your nipple, his pace never once wavering. “Taking me so well, aren’t you?”

“Good,” your mumble and he has to strain to hear your muffled, fucked out voice. “F’r you.”

It makes him manic. 

His cock pulses inside your gummy walls and he curses, his pace starting to falter. “Fuck, pretty, ‘m gonna cum,” he breathes. He’s about to pull out, picturing the image of his cum trickling against your back, a stark colour against the black ropes, when your voice cuts in. 

“In me…” You muffle through your sobs. “Seob—in me…”

And fuck, who is he to deny a pretty beggar?

He groans, plastering himself to your back, both hands clutching onto your tits as he drives his cock into you with a renewed force. 

“Cum with me,” he breathes into your hair, and it’s enough to have you pulsing around him, enough to have him spilling inside of you. 

He collapses from the effort, grunting as he milks every bit of himself into you, arms coming down to wrap around your waist as he rocks you both through the high. 

The moment stills, a tangle of breathless bodies and heated air. 

He wants to just lay there and bask in the afterglow, but he knows he has work to do, especially when he feels you go limp in his arms. 

Slowly, he pulls out, hissing from the sensitivity before laying you on your side and lifting off of you. 

But as soon as he detaches from you, you bristle with a whine, eyes going wide and panicked as they search for him through the blur. 

“Seob? No, don’t,” you whimper, reaching out to clutch at him.

Oh, you’re gone. 

He immediately lowers himself down, tucking his body over you and brushing your sweaty hair out of your face. “I’m right here, pretty. Not going anywhere. Just gonna get these ropes off of you, okay?”

It takes a moment for the words to process, but when they do, he goes to work, making sure to stay as physically connected to you as possible even if it is just a clumsy press of bodies. 

The ropes come off of you one by one, and he drops them to the floor without care. It doesn’t even bother him that he’ll have to wash them again today. 

He soothes his hands over your arms when he gets them free, almost mourning having to undo all his work—you looked so pretty under all of it—but he hopes he’ll get to keep his picture at least. 

Actually, he hopes he’ll get to have you like this again. But that’s a worry for after, because you’re starting to doze off already and he can’t have that just yet. 

Once you’re free of the ropes, he gently tugs your body to lay on your back, the movement shaking you awake. 

“Don’t fall asleep on me yet,” he says, watching you blink your eyes open for him. “Good, just like that.”

He smiles fondly when you drop your face into his chest, scratching into your hair affectionately before he reaches over you for the wet wipes he keeps at his bedside. 

Cleaning you up is a bit of a task when you keep flinching away and swatting at him but once it’s done, he tucks you against his chest and under the blanket. 

“You’re a freak.”

Okay, maybe you’re not that under. 

“Oh yeah?” He asks with a cocky grin. “You seemed to like it though.”

You lift your head to glare at him, your previous daze seeming faraway. “I’m sorry, has anyone not liked that?”

He shrugs. “Some don’t.” He doesn’t know what to make of the slow blink you give him. “What?”

“You’re a slut,” you say simply.

He laughs, knowing you well enough to know it’s not malicious. A little judgemental, maybe, but he’s judged you about your sex life before so he’s not one to speak. 

“I suppose I am,” he says sheepishly, dropping his head back to look up at the ceiling. 

“…What’s with the cuddling?”

“Aftercare.”

“Ah.”

“Hate it?”

You shuffle further into his arms and he takes that as your silent answer. He holds you close, relishing in your warm skin against his. 

After another silent moment, his eyes drift over to the Polaroid that waits at his bedside table. He itches to reach over and take a peak. But he won’t until—

“You can keep the picture,” you tell him, like you’re reading his mind. “But you show it to anyone and I’m telling Shota his best friend is a huge freak.”

“Shota?” Jongseob snorts. “Who the hell do you think got me into this in the first place?”

There’s silence. Then you bristle, pushing yourself off of him to sit up and stare down at him with wide eyes. “What?”

“Honour code,” he says cheekily, pretending to zip his lips shut. “Freaks don’t divulge each other's freak practices.”

You drop back down beside him with an exasperated sigh. You shouldn’t be that surprised. “Do I even want to know?”

He hums, chewing on his lip as a distant thought forms in his head. “Maybe another time.”

read part 2 (ft. soulseob)

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© jiuchip

[jiuchip]

ᯓ TIE ME UP, AGAIN — soul & jongseob (18+)

℘ — jongseob (종섭) x reader x soul (소울) ▸ ⌜ 8.8k ⌟

synopsis ▸ when soul finds out about your and jongseob's dalliance in bdsm, you ask him to show you how it's done by a real dom.

δ — nsfw (mdni), smut, meandom!shota, switch!jongseob, sub!reader, bdsm, f/m/m, kink discussion, bondage, collar, gag, fingering, cockwarming, impact play, sensory deprivation, punishment, temperature play, teasing, edging, orgasm denial, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, dacryphilia, subspace, aftercare

ᯓ an — i couldn't resist making a part 2, i just had too many ideas for it so i used all of them. can be read as standalone!

PART 1 — MASTERLIST

“What are those marks around your wrists?”

Your hand, with your chopsticks and dumpling and all, gets snatched by Shota from across the booth. His hand practically engulfs yours as he twists it this way and that to eye the little red scuffs around your wrist.

Your face burns as you recall black rope and warm hands. Jongseob tenses where he sits beside you, thrown askew by the question in the midst of chewing his noodles.

You scramble for an answer. “I wore my bracelet too tight,” you say, averting your eyes when Shota’s gaze lifts to your face.

“This is rope burn,” he states.

Your stomach twists with nerves. Of course Shota would recognize it; from what Jongseob had told you he was the one to show Jongseob the ropes (metaphorically… and physically, you suppose).

When Shota’s eyes shift to Jongseob and his brows raise, the corners of his lips lifting in a knowing little smile, you know there’s no point in hiding.

“Ah,” he says with a giggle, lowering your hand to the table but not yet letting go. “Finally got your fantasy, huh Seobie?”

Jongseob bristles in your peripherals. “Sho—”

“Didn’t I tell you to use those fur lined cuffs I gave you?”

Jongseob goes silent, and when you glance at him, you see his eyes wide and skin a little pale.

“Shit,” he mutters, his eyes flickering down to your wrist. “I completely forgot that you gave me those.”

Shota clicks his tongue, shaking his head slightly. “It’s okay, the damage isn't too bad.” He brushes his thumb over the reddened, still sensitive skin. “I have some cream that can help with this that I can lend you.”

You stare at him, feeling completely out of depth with this whole conversation. Are they really talking about your BDSM escapades out in the open like this? In a family Chinese restaurant? Nevermind that your first dalliance into this world was only two nights ago.

“Um, yeah,” you answer, flustered. Shota only seems to find your squirming amusing. “That would be nice.”

He lets go over your hand, giving you a sweet smile that feels anything but nice. “Eat,” he tells you, then turns back to his soup.

You reluctantly lift your dumpling into your mouth, chewing on it mechanically as your mind continues to race. You almost didn’t accept Jongseob’s invite to dinner tonight, still feeling a little off kilter with what happened.

It's not regret, but… now that you’ve seen Jongseob in his element, seeing him like this—beside you, talking to Shota about games and their schedules like he doesn’t tie people up in his free time—makes you feel off balance. 

And it’s not just him, Shota is driving your brain up a wall too. Your first thought when you sat down across from him in the booth tonight was what he might be like in that setting.

He must be dominant, right? If he was the one to teach Jongseob all of… this. Wait, what would teaching even look like? Would Shota have been the one to tie J—

“So, did you two make an agreement?”

Shota’s voice brings you out of your dangerous track of thoughts. But it sends you down another, more confusing one.

“A what?” You ask.

Jongseob tenses beside you again and Shota raises a brow, looking over at him. “Was there any preparation at all that went into this?”

“It sort of just… happened,” Jongseob answers meekly, poking at his noodles.

“So there was no checklist?”

“...No.”

The sigh Shota lets out makes you feel like you did something wrong.

“Okay,” you say, placing your chopsticks down. “Context?”

Shota turns his attention to you, twirling his spoon between his fingers. “Well it's mostly informal but it's good practice to fill out a list and establish rules and boundaries before going into a scene,” he explains, and sends your brain deeper into your destructive thought train. “But it seems like someone got a little too trigger happy.”

Jongseob groans, his chopsticks clattering to his bowl. “I know, I know. I should’ve been more careful.”

“You should have,” Shota chides in a tone that does nothing to ease your gutterbrain. “Especially considering it was her first time.”

You squirm in your seat, a nervous laugh bubbling in your throat. “This all sounds very… formal. Honestly, I was just expecting kinky sex.”

An older man in the booth to your right shoots you a dirty look but you ignore him.

Shota makes a disapproving sound. “It’s not just that—”

“Yes, yes, don’t worry,” you cut him off with a wave of your hand. “Seob already gave me the whole spiel.”

“Well, at least he did something right.”

Jongseob makes an offended grunt, there’s a bump under the table, and then Shota jumps with a pained yelp.

“Brat,” Shota mutters under his breath, reaching down to rub his leg.

You glance between the two of them, thinking that maybe you’re starting to understand a bit of their dynamic but the question still remains.

“How?” You ask, then scramble to elaborate when they both turn to stare at you. “I mean, like, how? When? You two.”

Shota breaks into an amused laugh. “He walked in on me and my ex. Then he stayed and watched. And then…” He trails off, turning to Jongseob with an impish grin.

Jongseob’s face turns a bright red. “It’s not important,” he huffs, lowering his head over his noodles to curtain his hair over his face as he picks up his chopsticks again. “My bad for not consulting you before we did anything.”

He means it as a sarcastic jibe at Shota, you know that, but the thought that hits you makes you dizzy. Of them consulting over you.

“Well if you do it again, make sure you do it right,” Shota says before turning back to his soup.

The words slip from your mouth before you can do anything to stop them. “Or you could just teach me.”

They both pause, their eyes shifting to you again, and you get hit with the urge to drop down under the table and hide.

“You want to do it again?” Jongseob asks, brows raised.

You bite down on your lip. Honestly, the answer was clear to you from the moment you stepped out of his apartment that night.

“I do,” you admit quietly, slipping your hands under your thighs to keep them from trembling at the excitement at the mere thought of it. “I wanna know what more there is to all this.”

Shota hums, tilting his head slightly as he considers your words. “There’s been a couple things Seob has been wanting to learn but it would require a third party… We could kill two birds with one stone,” he murmurs, thinking aloud.

You have to refrain from squirming under his gaze. “I’m down. If you guys are.”

“Yes,” Jongseob says almost immediately, then clears his throat and straightens. “I mean, yeah. I’m down.”

Shota gives him a judgemental brow raise, but he’s smiling still. “Then it’s settled,” he says, turning his grin to you. “I’ll send you the checklist tonight.”

𓆩⟡𓆪

The “checklist” ends up being a comprehensive list of kinks, most of which you have to look up to even know what it is, many of which you didn’t even know could be a kink, and some of which makes you put your phone down on your couch to take a deep breath.

Shota had made a grouchat with the three of you and sent the list almost as soon as you left the restaurant that you hadn’t seen until you arrived at your apartment.

It’s good to know he’s just as eager as you; you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it since you hugged them goodbye.

So you spend the entire night doing a deep dive into the internet’s reserve about BDSM and all the kinks on that list before you fill it out, nevermind that you have work in the morning.

By the time you’ve filled out the list, checked off what you’re all for, what you’re curious about, and what’s completely off the table for you, it’s nearing 5am. And despite the late hour, Shota still responds to you just a few minutes after.

sho-kun: ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡ sho-kun: we already know what we want to try for our scene. do you want me to tell you or do you want us to keep it a secret?

The thought of them discussing what they want to do to you should not make you feel as insane as it does.

You reread the text, chewing on your lip. On one hand, you’re dying of curiosity and this feels like something you should be fully preparing yourself for. Knowing what they have planned would help.

But on the other…

you: keep it a secret. i want to be surprised

It’s just more exciting that way

sho-kun: ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ friday at 7 ok??

you: fine w me

𓆩⟡𓆪

It’s not fine. It’s not fine at all, because the four days wait until Friday spans longer than four days have ever spanned and you’re losing your mind with anticipation.

Jongseob and Shota had both sent over their checklists shortly after you did, just so everyone is on the same page (you learn that there’s not much that Shota isn’t into whereas Jongseob is more reserved), and you’d spend hours, days since then just thinking about what it might be from those lists that they have in store for you.

You know rope will be involved somehow, or some type of bondage, with the shit that Shota was giving Jongseob for not doing it right. Your wrists burn at the thought of being bound up again. The marks are gone and completely healed over; the cream that Shota leant you worked miracles.

What does it say about you that you miss them?

They almost felt like a claim, one that you’d given willingly and one that you hope to give up again soon, and not just to Jongseob.

The thought of it, of being claimed again, leaves your skin prickling with an anticipation that keeps you company on your drive to Jongseob’s place.

They’d decided to do it there for the sake of familiarity for you given that your first time had happened there.

Another thing that drove you insane; them referring to your “first time” being your escapade with Jongseob as if you had given your virginity to him. Your BDSM virginity, maybe, but it’s still enough to feel dizzy about. Like you’ve only just started on the road to kinky corruption with them in the passenger.

You only get one knock in before the door swings open and Shota stands before you with a bright grin. 

“You’re right on time,” he chirps, stepping aside to let you in.

You blink, stepping in through the door. “Were you waiting by the door?”

He shrugs, taking your wrist and bringing you over to the couches as soon as you’re free of your shoes. “Yes,” he says, then gently pushes you down to the couch. “Tea?”

You pause, half expecting to have just been swept to the bedroom by now. “Uh… I’m okay.”

Jongseob appears then, rounding the couch to place a mug of tea on the coffee table in front of you. “Have some tea,” he says, looking down at your hands. “You seem nervous.”

You clench your fists, realizing just then that they’d been trembling, and give a sheepish smile at the knowing grin that Shota gives you.

“Yeah, okay,” you concede, reaching for the mug.

“While you do that, we need to go over a few things,” Shota says as he places himself in front of you, sitting on the coffee table and slipping his phone out of his pocket.

Jongseob takes a seat beside you with his own mug, sipping idly as Shota starts off. 

He pulls up your list and goes on to recite it all to you, asking you at the end if anything has changed since you filled it out. You answer with an emphatic no, then he reminds you of the traffic light system—green for go, yellow for slow, red for stop. Then he insists that you only use his real name and to not call him Soul by any means because it’s apparently a real moodkiller for him then makes sure you bring up any boundaries you might have.

But honestly, you’re too focused on the heat of both their bodies surrounding you and trying not to get too wet from just having a conversation about kinks.

“If you couldn’t tell, he’s a real stickler for rules,” Jongseob hums beside you once Shota has finished his spiel and stood up from his seat.

“Someone has to be,” he states, tossing a lazy kick to Jongseob’s shin. Then he turns to you and gives you a smile. “Tonight, you will be blindfolded and gagged.”

You choke on your sip of tea and Shota quickly takes the mug from you, Jongseob scrambling to pat your head and back as you climb yourself down from your fit of coughs.

“I’m—” You cough again, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “Oh.”

“Sorry,” Shota says sheepishly. “Sensory deprivation was on your list. We’ll let you have your hearing since it will be your first time.”

You swallow, feeling a distant ringing form in the back of your head. “O-Okay. That’s fine with me.”

“And temperature play.”

The ringing becomes louder as you just stare at him.

He tilts his head at you. “That’s all okay, yes?”

You nod, maybe too eagerly, because you hear Jongseob laugh beside you. 

“Come on, Shota,” Jongseob says, standing and offering you his hand. “I think she’s getting a little excited.”

You flush as you place your hand in his. “Can you blame me?”

He pulls you up to a stand in front of him, and his face is so close to yours that you’re hit with the sudden realization that after all this, you haven’t kissed him yet.

He must come to the same conclusion; his eyes flicker down to your lips and lingers there. “Not at all,” he murmurs, the tip of his tongue flicking out to wet his lip.

Then you feel a solid wall of warmth behind you, two strong hands coming down to your hips and pulling you back. You gasp softly as your back hits Shota’s firm chest.

His breath hits the bare skin of your neck as he speaks, low and husky in a way you’re not used to from your usually sunny friend.

“Let's get one thing clear,” he says, turning to let his lips brush your ear. “I’m in charge tonight. Got it?”

Your breath hitches, the low pulse of need thrumming to life between your hips. You glance up at Jongseob to see him watching you both intently. 

Shota must catch wind of your unspoken question because he chuckles, fingers digging firmly into your clothed flesh. “Jongseob is in charge of you,” he says, turning to look over at him. “But not of me. There’s a couple things I need to teach him tonight. Isn’t that right?”

Jongseob swallows, giving a slight nod as his answer. The difference between him that night a week ago and now, a little meek and reserved and not the one in charge of the room, has your brain whirring at the prospect of seeing him in a new light.

The breath rushes out of you in a quick swoop. “Oh.”

Shota’s hands slide off of you, only to come back a second later to wrap a black satin fabric over your eyes. 

You startle at first, but you feel Jongseob’s hand quickly grasp yours as Shota fastens the blindfold, tying it firmly at the back of your head.

“Okay?” Shota asks you once it’s done.

You nod, then yelp when you’re suddenly lifted off your feet.

There’s strong arms that hoist you up into a princess carry, Shota’s you assume, and then you’re on the move. You clutch a fistful of his shirt, the heat of his body seeping into you and adding to the steadily growing heat that already festers inside you.

It might be a little ridiculous considering that only your sight has been taken away, but you can already feel yourself teetering into that mindspace, the one that lets you give up your own body in favour of just feeling.

Soon enough, your back hits soft, fuzzy fabric. A towel you think, but it's big enough to span down to your feet where you lay.

There’s movement that you hear around you before a pair of hands settle at your waist.

“I’m going to take off your clothes,” says Jongseob, before his hand slides up your shirt to sit against the bare skin of your stomach. “Okay?”

You give a quick nod, letting him maneuver you as he pulls your layers off you. Soon, you’re laying there, fully bare and trying to fight the urge to curl into yourself.

You’ve already laid yourself out for Jongseob, but it’s a different feeling to know you’ve got a bit of an audience now.

You hear, and feel, a chunk of weight drop beside you on the bed with metallic clanks.

Your stomach twists as you recall the handcuffs and linked chains you saw that night in Jongseob’s bathroom.

“I’m going to tie your arms down,” Shota says, picking up your wrist in his hand. His thumb brushes soothingly over your hammering pulse point. “You won’t be able to move them.”

He pauses, as if waiting for your denial, but when there isn’t any you feel something like a soft coat of fur wrapping around your wrist.

“Fur lined cuffs,” Shota chuckles when he sees the pinch between your brows.

“Right,” you mumble, cheeks heating when you feel the cuff tighten around you. “The ones Seob forgot about.”

“Sorry,” you hear him pipe in from somewhere at the end of the bed but Shota quickly shushes him.

“You live and you learn,” Shota states, wrapping another cuff around your other wrist. “That’s why he has me.”

You let out a shaky breath as he brings both your hands over your head, tying your forearms in parallel to one another with rope that you’re already familiar with the feel of. He checks with you to make sure they aren’t too tight before fastening your tied arms to the headboard by the cuffs at your wrist.

You test the restraints, giving your arms a tug only to find that there’s no room for movement. A pulse of heat shoots straight to your core at the thought of being left completely at their mercy, and you quickly press your legs together to quell some of that growing pressure.

It must grab their attention because you hear amused chuckles coming from both of them.

“Was she this needy last time?” You hear Shota ask as he moves away from the bed.

“Just about,” Jongseob says, closer to you now than he was before. “She was soaked by the time I finished tying her up.”

A quiet whimper catches at your throat, the pressure between your legs worsening by each second that they spend just talking about you like you’re not there.

There’s hands at your thighs then, prying your legs apart. You gasp at the sudden pull, twitching to close your legs again but the hands, Shota’s you think, keep them apart.

“Stay still,” you hear him grit, his fingers digging into your flesh.

You settle with a quiet whimper, letting your muscles relax. But then there's something wrapping around your thigh, another one of those fur lined cuffs you think but larger, and fastening down firmly. There’s another one also being wrapped around your other leg; which can only mean they’re both working together to tie you down completely. Your head spins when you hear the clinks of more chains as they get attached to the cuffs at your thighs, the other ends of them getting attached to the headboard on either side of you.

Your skin heats at the realization of your position—being opened up and left exposed like this, completely open and pliant under their mercy.

Shivers climb through your body; you can’t see them but you know their eyes are roving over you.

“She’s already wet,” Shota murmurs, sounding completely in awe. His hand on your thigh slides down stopping just at the apex of your inner thigh, so close to where you really need him, before clamping down on your flesh.

“Told you she’s excitable,” Jongseob says from your left.

You whine, shifting under the restraints. The ones at your legs are just as unforgivable as the ones on your arms, forcing your legs to stay raised and folded at your sides.

“Shhh,” Shota coos before lifting his hands off you. “We’re just getting started. You can be patient, can’t you?”

His voice sounds so sweet, so soothing—but you know his words aren’t a gentle request. They’re a demand, a poison no matter how much he douses it in sugar.

“There’s one more thing you need to do for me before we can keep going.”

He moves away again before coming back just a moment later. A weight drapes over your neck, something soft like those lined cuffs.

“W-What is that?” You stammer, tremors wracking through your breaths as you feel him slide it under and around your neck.

“A collar,” he says, lifting your head with one hand to click it into place with the other. “I don’t let anyone sub for me without wearing it.”

The weight of the collar, thick and present around your neck, makes your head feel like it's being stuffed with cotton. Claimed, you think to yourself. It's a nice feeling, like it’s official that you’re under his care now. Both of theirs.

There must be a ring at the front, because you feel the collar tug up and your head lifts under the pull.

“Colour?” Shota asks quietly and you whimper out a quiet, “Green.” He lets go and you melt back down to the bed. “Good.”

Something small and plastic gets pressed into your palm. “A clicker,” Jongseob explains as he adjusts your thumb to rest over a button on the tiny remote. “You’re going to be gagged so you won’t be able to talk. This is your safeword. When we ask for your colour, click it three times for green, twice for yellow, once for red. Click it once at any point and the blindfold and gag come off.” His voice is slow and soothing, like he’s accounting for the fact that your brain might already be going soupy. “Understand?” When you nod, he hums in approval and instructs you to click it in all the patterns to test.

Once that is settled, he moves back and Shota’s hand comes down to press against your jaw. “We’re going to gag you now. Open.”

“Wait,” you say, turning your head towards his direction. There’s still one more thing that’s been buzzing around in the back of your mind. “You said you were going to teach Jongseob something... What is it?”

You can hear the smile in his voice as he answers. “Restraint,” he says, then pushes the silicone ball gag in your mouth before you can ask any more questions.

Once that’s fastened, their hands leave you—completely trapped and under their mercy. You don’t think you’ve ever felt an exhilaration like this.

“Pretty,” Shota murmurs above you, before you feel the weight of his palm press between the valley of your breasts. It slides down your body, so slow it leaves you squirming.

You tremble under the warm touch that stops at your naval. You want it to go lower, but you fear wanting anything right now isn’t much of an option.

But, to your surprise, your wants go answered anyway. Because his hand slides down lower and two fingers pass through your slick folds. 

The sensation, and the obscenely wet sounds, make your body jolt and your legs try to uselessly snap shut. The restraints keep you still, tied in place. 

You whine when his fingers start to slide slowly back and forth, just feeling for you, but your sounds come muffled around the gag. 

You hear his soft chuckles, breathy as he says, “So wet already.” He uses his slick fingertips to circle your clit, sending sparks of heat from your core through your body. “I wonder how long your body’s been wanting this,” he muses, sliding his fingers down to tease at your entrance. 

“She’s a natural,” you hear Jongseob murmur above you. His voice sounds affected, strained. “Just born to submit, aren’t you?” He hums, before you feel his hand cup your breast, kneading the soft flesh. 

There’s a steady stream of whimpers and short breaths that spill from your stuffed mouth, your body already taut with the band in your belly growing tighter by the second. You’re already wound up from all the lead up. You know you won’t last long.

“You’re close already,” Shota observes, trailing his fingers back to rub torturously light circles around your clit. “But you can’t come until I tell you. Got it?”

You let out a whine of protest at that but Shota only giggles.

“Good,” he says before he lifts his hand off of you entirely, leaving you whining again for lack of the stimulation you’re throbbing for. 

Your entire body jolts when something cold and wet presses to the space between your clavicles. Ice. 

Then it trails down, slow and steady leaving prickles of cold trailing in its wake. The sensation feels more intense than it normally would, like you can feel the cold all over your body instead of at just the immediate contact point.

Your body trembles helplessly under it as it makes its way down to your bellybutton, circling there for a moment before straying even lower. 

Panicked little whines start leaving your throat as it travels further. It stops at your pelvis. 

“Colour,” you hear Shota say, his voice even breathier than before. 

You take a shaky breath trying to settle your trmoring body but it’s a fruitless attempt. You click the button three times. 

The ice moves lower, gliding down to press against your clit, and you wail at the sharp spike of cold, burning pleasure that shoots through you. 

And it moves even lower, the ice melted down to a small thing that Shota presses against your entrance, then pushes in.

Your body jerks against the restraints, chains clinking at the movements as the overbearing cold breaches inside your heated cunt. Though it melts quickly, trickling out of you in steady streams, but Shota doesn’t wait for that. 

Instead, he pushes two fingers into you, a burning stretch against your walls that rivals the sharpness of the cold, and starts fucking them in and out at a rapid pace that has a hot pleasure wash through you over the cold. 

The sensations become all too much for your body as it thrashes and trembles under the stimulation, barreled to your orgasm at an alarming speed. 

You try to warn him, but it all comes out as muffled gasps and whines. 

“Close already?” Shota asks you, voice low and gruff, almost judgemental in tone as he continues to piston his fingers into you. 

You try to respond but your muffled words get cut off into a sharp moan when you feel another cube of ice press against your nipple. 

“You can hold out a little bit,” Jongseob muses as he circles the ice around the bud, teasing it to a stiff peak. He doesn’t keep it in one spot for long before moving it to your other nipple, working it just the same. 

You jerk under the cold sparks that shoot through your chest, yelping when you feel Shota’s thumb start to circle your clit. “I don’t think she can,” he says, then crooks his fingers just right to start punching against that sweet, spongy spot inside of you with each thrust. 

A panic seizes through you when you realize that you really can’t. 

Your body tightens all around as you’re practically shoved to the edge, coiling tight with the band of pleasure in your gut pulling taut. 

Shota seems to feel a little merciful. “Come for me,” he says, and that’s all it takes for your orgasm to punch through you, body wracking with violent shakes as the intense tremors wrack over you. 

It lasts for a while but Shota guides you through it, slowing his fingers gradually to wind you down while easing the pressure on your clit. When you drop down to the bed, boneless and panting and crying into your blindfold, his hands finally move off of you, as does Jongseob’s. 

You’re not sure how long you lay there, shaking from the aftershocks and trying to stay present. You can already feel your grasp on your mind slipping, falling into a space where you can’t do much except float in sensation. 

An arm sliding under your waist brings you back just a little as it lifts you up. You feel a pillow slide under your lower back before you’re settled on top of it. 

You make a sound at the shift in position, a wordless ask that Shota answers. 

“Don’t worry,” he says, pressing his palm against your cheek. You turn at the touch, seeking the warmth of his hand as you nuzzle into it. He giggles fondly, brushing his thumb against your cheekbone. “This is just for our next part.”

You pause. What now?

He seems to catch on to your hesitance, digging his thumb affectionately into your cheek. “Don’t you worry.” Then his hand is off of you, his voice redirecting from you. “Seob?”

There’s a dip in the bed in front of you, the warmth of a body settling close. Then there’s a pressure against your cunt, hot and thick and velvety as it slides through the slick and you gasp, hips twitching when it presses against your clit. 

Jongseob teases his cock against you like that for a moment, leaving you whimpering and twitching from the sensitivity that still persists, before he finally pushes into you with a choked groan. 

You moan around your gag, your fist tightening around the clicker as he settles all the way in you, stretching you full to the brim with his hardened cock.  

He stutters when you clench around him, feeling him twitch inside you in response. 

“Fuck you’re tight,” he hisses, his hands bearing down on your thighs. 

Then he goes still, seated deep into you at an angle that makes you feel like he’s brushing against the deepest parts of you. 

“Good,” you hear Shota murmur before he starts tinkering with something at the bedside table. “Remember when I said I was going to teach him restraint?”

It takes a moment for you to register through the fog in your brain that he’s speaking to you. You make a hitched sound in response. 

“He’s going to stay just like that,” he says, moving closer to you. You can’t see him, but you can feel his presence hovering over your body. It makes your skin tingle alive again with anticipation. “For thirty minutes. He’s not allowed to move, and neither of you are allowed to cum. Okay?”

Dread pools in your gut. 30 minutes? Well if it’s just this and he’s not fucking you, you don’t see what the trouble would be. But you know deep down that it wouldn’t be so easy. 

“Colour?” He asks, and you don’t hesitate at all before you click three times. “Good girl.”

You jerk at the sudden prick you feel on the skin at your chest. It’s hot, not burning, but a single point of an intense warmth just between your breasts. 

You make a questioning noise that cuts off into a sharp breath when you feel another prick just under the last, bigger this time. The warmth lingers for a moment longer, before you feel whatever it is harden on your skin and cling against you like a second layer. Wax.

There’s nothing more for a long moment, like he’s gauging your reaction. But then it comes back all at once as a long stripe poured from the middle of your chest down to just above your belly button. 

It’s so much more intense, a sharp warmth that blooms through your body and has you rattling against your chains. You whimper, body clamping down around Jongseob without control and he lets out a choked grunt, his fingers digging sharply into your thighs. 

“You’re sensitive,” Shota muses, sounding all too amused by your reactions. 

You gasp at the sudden cold of ice that starts gliding down your skin beside the stripe of wax that slowly dribbles down your skin, hardening on the way as the branching stripes thin out. 

It continues like that for a long while, a flash of cold somewhere on your skin before a burst of warmth that follows. There’s no rhythm or reason to when the cold or the warmth is coming and where it might be, leaving your body dangling over the edge with anticipation. 

It’s enough to have you shaking again, an unmoving thing around Jongseob who throbs and twitches inside you relentlessly, but remains otherwise still. 

“You’re shaking so much,” Shota coos, a mocking concern as he slides his hand down your quivering thigh, his touch leading dangerously close to where you and Jongseob are connected. “And you’re creaming so much again. Too much?”

You shake your head hastily; the thought of all this stopping sounds worse than the twenty or however many minutes you have left of going without cumming. 

He laughs. “So eager,” he teases, then pushes his finger against your clit and starts circling it in quick, tight circles. 

Shota preens at the sight of your body bristling under the simple touch. Not only does it affect you, but it affects Jongseob, who’s face twitches at the feeling of you pulsing around him, pained as he holds himself back from chasing your heat. 

Shota doesn’t relent, just drives you closer to another orgasm with his finger and makes your body convulse so much that it has Jongseob’s breaths come out ragged, his hands tightening on you with restraint. 

But just before you can tip off, he pulls his hand off of you and cuts off your stimulation. The tension in your body melts away in a snap, Jongseob sighing in relief when you finally go still. 

Shota doesn’t let the ease last. He picks up the pitcher of wax and dribbles another stripe across your torso, up until your nipple. The stripes and splatters of black wax settle on your bare body like a mural of his filthiest dreams. He’s been wanting to do this for so long—and finally, he’s found his muse. 

He feels himself throb under his jeans, straining for some form of relief. But he ignores it in favour of latching onto your clit again, driving you towards the edge yet again. 

“Sh-Shota,” Jongseob whimpers, trembling with the effort of not giving into his body’s desire to just fuck into you. He clutches at your hips, trying to hold you down and keep you still but Shota can see the way your cunt still flutters around him. 

Shota clicks his tongue, still thumbing at your clit as he fixes Jongseob with a disapproving look. “It hasn’t even been halfway yet. Stay still.”

Jongseob drops his head with a ragged breath, his nails clawing into your hips. 

You whimper around the gag, your hips trying to roll up with a mind of their own over Jongseob’s cock. You’re trying to say something around the gag but it comes out muffled and dismembered. Your body tenses with the threat of release and Shota takes his hand off of you again, leaving you right on the precipice. 

You drop with a sob that wracks through your entire body and Shota almost feels bad. Almost. 

He places the pitcher down and instead reaches to dip his hand into the bowl of ice. He doesn’t pick any up, just brings his drenched hand over you and flicks the cold water, chuckling when your body flinches as the cold droplets hit. 

Seeing you squirm might just be his new favourite thing. 

He knows it's cruel—keeping you so on edge that you tremble and cry even without being under direct stimulation. It only makes him want to push you harder. 

He reaches for your clit again, spurring your body back to life under the steady stream of stimulation. He can’t tell if your whimpers are pained or pleasured anymore. 

It doesn’t take much time to wind you up to your edge again, and again—he leaves you hanging every time. His chest twists at the loud sob that leaves your mouth. Your tears have soaked through the blindfold, leaving salt tracks down your cheeks that he wants to lick up. 

“Pretty,” he mumbles, pinching your clit between his fingers. You’re pretty when you’re ruined. 

You whine, hips bucking up desperately against Jongseob’s weakening hold. He’s panting now, eyes bleary, the flush on his face climbing down his neck. 

Shota knows you’re at your limits. There’s still nine minutes left. He could be nice. Or…

He grabs a cube of ice, pressing it to your nipple as his other hand goes back to your clit and flicks at it, rapid and unforgiving. 

He grins as he watches you cry out around the gag, your orgasm ripping through you with such an intensity that the bed creaks and rattles under your thrashing body, restraints rattling dangerously. 

Jongseob lets out a sharp cry before he doubles over, trembles wracking through his body. 

Shota watches, with a sick sense of satisfaction, as Jongseob’s cum seeps out around where he’s still buried in you. 

He clicks his tongue, pulling his hands off of you and dropping the shrunken cube of ice back into the bowl. 

“And we only had eight minutes to go,” he sighs, smirking when your body tenses up at the reminder of his rule. 

A shudder passes through Jongseob’s body. Shota reaches over and grabs his chin, yanking his gaze up. He looks up at Shota with wide, panicked eyes. 

“S-Sorry—“ He starts, but Shota cuts him right off. 

“Punishment,” Shota says, letting go of him to start undoing your binds. “You’re gonna do it for me.”

He laughs to himself when he sees Jongseob tense up in his peripherals but he ignores him for now as he continues to take off your restraints one by one, lightly massaging your limbs as he goes to bring the feeling back into them. 

Jongseob isn’t the biggest fan of punishment. Nothing intense, at least. But that’s what’ll make it so fun for Shota to watch. 

He takes off your gag, rubbing your jaw gently with his fingers as your mouth immediately snaps shut, soft whimpers spilling unbound now. He pulls off your blindfold and smiles when he sees your distant gaze—glassy-eyed and so far gone. 

“We’re not done here, pretty,” he says gently, reaching down to grab the D-ring at the front of your collar, tugging it to jostle some of your consciousness back. 

You blink your eyes slowly, brows furrowing as the words process slowly. “Mm?”

It seems words are beyond you now. He smiles, grabbing the corner of the towel laid under you and using it to swipe off the drool around your mouth. 

“I have to punish you. You came before I told you you could.”

His painfully hard cock twitches when a fresh wave of tears well in your eyes. “I tried,” you sniffle, sounding so desperate. 

He swipes away your tears as they fall, leaning down to press a soothing kiss at the apple of your cheek. “You did,” he says, gently enough that your emotions settle just a bit. He’s not totally cruel. “But you still broke a rule. So did Seobie. I can’t let that go unpunished. You understand?”

You let out another sniffle, lips trembling as you give him a tiny nod. 

He grins, feeling nothing short of proud at just how compliant you are. “Good girl. Colour?”

“Green.”

He’s a little surprised at how quickly the answer comes, but he doesn’t let it go to waste. He slides an arm under you, lifting you to sit up. 

Jongseob has already shifted himself to sit at the edge of the bed, fidgeting with the sheets as he waits. Shota lifts you up, maneuvering you to lay on your stomach across Jongseob’s lap with your ass perched up. 

Once you’re settled how he wants, Shota steps back to sit himself on the chair set by the bed with a perfect view as he watches Jongseob’s eyes rove over you, nervous hands settling at your lower back and thigh. 

“Eight for every minute you couldn’t give me,” Shota says, leaning back as he undoes his belt. He hastily undoes the buttons and zipper of his jeans, slipping his hand in through his layers to grasp at himself and sighing at the pressure he’s been craving for so long now. “Make sure she counts them,” he says through a heavy breath, settling into the chair. 

There’s only a little bit of stalling as Jongseob whispers something to you, his hand kneading the soft flesh of your ass in a soothing gesture. 

The first crack of Jongseob’s hand coming down against your flesh is softer than Shota would have liked. But it still makes his cock jump, just as the way your body does at the impact. 

A small, whimpered, “One,” leaves your lips, almost too quiet for him to hear. 

But the sound is so helpless and timid that he has to squeeze himself at the base to hold back from reaching his peak too quickly. 

The next one is still too gentle, so Shota shoots Jongseob a sharp look that Jongseob only glares back at before he brings his hand down on you harder. 

You let out a broken, “three!” Your body is already starting to quiver again. 

Jongseob smooths the reddening flesh with his palm, giving you a moment of relief before he brings his hand down again. 

You let out a sob as you count the next number. and Shota starts to stroke himself to the sounds of your sniffles, head rushing with your broken voice. 

By the time it comes to the last one, your entire being is trembling with both pain and an aching need that grows yet again between your legs. 

Your fists tighten around the sheets, head rolling to the side to be met with the sight of Shota sitting there with his fist working himself, his manic eyes locked onto you. 

Your eyes meet through the blur of your tears as Jongseob’s hand comes down on you for the final time, harder than any before, and you let out a loud cry, your spent body only being able to tremble and nothing more at the sharp ache it leaves behind. 

It takes you a moment longer to remember your task. “Eight,” you whimper, the tension in your body slowly melting when you feel Jongseob’s hands lift off of you.

Shota stands, making his way over as he tucks himself away. You notice even through the blur that he’s still hard under there. The ache between your legs grows more prominent, the itch to be filled and fucked properly still present despite it all.

“Good girl, angel,” Shota coos, his arms coming around to lift you off of Jongseob and lay you on your back. “You took it so well. Let’s get you clean—“

“More,” you cut him off in a quiet mumble, starry, hazy eyes blinking slowly up at him. 

Shota pauses, glancing over at Jongseob’s puzzled face before looking back at you. He tilts his head, not sure if he’s heard you right. “What’s that?”

He feels his dick jump in his confines, still not fully taken care of, when you part your legs like you’re offering your mess of a cunt up to him. 

“Want you to come,” you breathe.

Shota feels dizzy. Here you are, an utter mess and complete wreck, offering yourself up for his pleasure. He’s more surprised that you have enough of a mind to still think about him. And that you still have anything left to give.

He swallows, wrapping his hands around your thighs and pulling you closer to the edge of the bed. “Yeah?” He asks, eyeing your fluttering pussy still leaking with your previous orgasms, and Jongseob. 

“Please?” You ask in a small voice. 

Shota’s restraint crumbles. He shoves down his jeans and boxers in a haste, freeing himself and wasting no time to sink himself into your warm cunt. 

A guttural groan rips from the depths of his lungs as he doubles over, hands bracing down at the sides of your head. Your smaller hands wrapping around his wrists, your eyes looking up at him with a gaze so filled with reverence and trust, Shota nearly cums on the spot. 

He doesn’t recall anyone else ever looking up at him like that, no matter how much care he’d put into them. Truly, there’s never been anyone like you. And he knows in that moment, there’s no way he’s letting you go. 

He pulls out enough until his tip remains, sighing at the tight slide, before he pushes all the way back in with a hard snap that thrashes your body up and leaves you moaning, the sound unobstructed and so sweet. 

He fucks you with a vigour he hasn’t felt before, veins thrumming with a near animalistic want to have you coming undone on his cock. 

He drinks you in—the way you moan, the way your face twitches with pleasure, the way your eyes water at the intensity of his thrusts, the way the ring of the collar—his collar—still around your neck clinks with every movement. And he loses himself in all of it, in fucking you until you come for him for the third time with a cry of his name.

He stutters at the sound, at your cunt pulsing around him before he starts pounding in even harder, grunting as he feels his high closing in. 

“Fuck, pretty,” he pants, his pace becoming clumsier by the second. “So good for me—taking me so good. Wanna make me feel good, don’t you?”

You mewl, nails digging in around his wrists as you sniffle. “Wanna make you cum… feel good…”

“Fuck, you are,” he gasps, slowing down to deep, grinding thrusts that has him digging into the deepest parts of you. “You are—nngh, so good, pretty, so—good, fuck!”

He pulls out, fisting himself rapidly until he cums over you, thick white ropes painting over the black stripes of the wax still clinging to your body. 

The sight makes him dizzy all over again—your painted body, a curation by him. He wants to take a picture, to preserve you just like this all pretty and fucked out and painted by him. But you’re starting to drift away, and he can’t let you get too far. 

He tucks himself away with dazed movements, hesitant to let this moment end as his body still buzzes from… everything. He reaches down for you. “Seob, start a—“

“Kiss.”

He pauses, hovering over you with his brows raised.

You blink up at him, movements still syrupy slow as you reach for his arm. “Kiss?”

Warmth blooms in his chest; his subs usually never get intimate in this way with him. And there’s not a bone in his body that wants to deny you.

He leans down and presses his lips to yours, unable to keep the smile off his face as you kiss him eagerly even if your movements are a little uncoordinated and clumsy. 

Your hand claws into his shirt as you try to pull him closer and it takes a Herculean effort for him to pull back, chuckling softly down at you. 

“Later, pretty,” he says, gently prying your hand off of him and placing it at your chest. “I gotta get you cleaned up.”

But you’re not listening to him. Instead your eyes move over his shoulder and he looks up to see Jongseob still watching, almost entranced. 

When it becomes clear what you’re asking with your eyes, Jongseob bristles forward and practically shoves Shota aside to seal his lips over yours. 

Shota giggles at the eager sight, stepping back with a pat to Jongseob’s shoulder. “Stay with her, I’ll be back.”

He moves away when it’s clear you’re not even listening, moving to the bathroom to draw together a bath. He makes sure to use all of Jongseob’s fancy shit—extra bubbles, some scented oil, and a few candles—to set the mood. 

When he comes back out, he finds you curled into Jongseob’s chest, the both of you in different states of consciousness. It’s a sweet sight, and he really doesn’t want to break it up, but he knows you can’t be comfortable under all of the wax and other stuff. 

So he goes over, pulling you both back to present as he comes into view. “Come on, let’s get you in the bath.”

He reaches down to take the collar off of you first, but you swat at his hand, curling away from him with a protective hand over it. “No,” you huff, turning to bury your face in Jongseob’s shoulder. 

Jongseob looks amused as he smiles lazily up at Shota. “Looks like you got yourself a keeper,” he teases but there’s a fondness to his voice as he looks back down at you. 

Shota can’t help but grin. “Lucky me.”

Bringing you to the bathroom isn’t much of a task, but getting you under the shower (because Jongseob is the kind of guy to have a bathroom with both a shower and a tub) to wipe off the waxes and other substances is, because you refuse to let go of him to the point where Jongseob has to step in and hold you still. 

Getting you into the bath is much easier when Shota tells Jongseob to get in with you, considering your refusal to let him go by latching onto his arm. 

The unusual display of clinginess doesn’t come as much of a surprise given the intensity of the scene. But it’s cute, so Shota has no problem as he sits himself on the lip of the tub and washes your hair, every touch bringing you closer and closer back to the present. 

“You guys are crazy,” you mutter after a while, head lolling back onto Jongseob’s shoulder. 

Shota smiles, dumping the jug of water over your head as retaliation and giggling while you yelp and sputter, wiping at your face. 

Jongseob snickers, tightening his arms around you. “If we’re crazy, so are you. You asked for everything tonight.”

“Yeah, but,” you flush, sinking further into the water. “I didn’t think it would be like that.”

A quiet panic starts growing in the pit of Shota’s stomach, the loofa nearly slipping from his hand. “You don’t have any regrets, do you?” He has to ask because he can’t have it happening again—

“No,” you say sharply, breaking off his dark trail of thought, and that quashes away the doubts that started growing in Shota’s head. “Not at all.”

He sighs in relief, smiling as he takes your arm to lather the soap over your skin. “Good.”

The moment lulls after that, the sounds tinkling of water, soft breaths, and the rose scented air keeping you company. 

“So,” you start again, eyes lighting with a twinkle that makes Shota preen even before you finish your thought. “Same time next week?”

He eyes the collar still around your neck, glancing up at Jongseob’s hopeful, inquiring eyes. “Of course,” he answers, grinning as he loops his finger through the collar and tugs you closer. “You’re mine now.”

taglist: @jellyybelly, @jseobbie, @tintedsvn, @seobjecttt, @stxrxyyz, @hxraiiii, @peachy-x-k33n, @choxochip, @ozzysoatsolivesandpasta, @boptak, @peonyjoo, @kittyshotak, @oyasumiaikko, @straystar-8, @aalyluvz, @evemds, @willowedjelly, @velvetjoong, @seonghwaswifeuuuu, @delicatechris, @orchidves, @lycxee, @girlcrushd, @halaziasupremacy, @chandlxa, @soulssnucky, @snyngjhn, @jiungs-wednesdaygirl, @leleluvrs, @princessthelsa, @nichozzystuffs, @mo8ny4951, @rockstartaeyang, @shmooooo, @cherryyberry1 @keymeadoww @1007-human @p1issocool @tikfreakingtak @nota10butadefinite8 @willthewise10 @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @skibidiloreni

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© jiuchip

[jiuchip]

ꪆৎ GROUP EFFORT — ot6 (18+)

℘ — ot6 p1harmony x reader ▸ ⌜ 2k ⌟

synopsis ▸ when an afterparty ride home in a limo takes a drastic turn

δ — nsfw (mdni), smut, gangbang, dom!piwon, sub!reader, straight filth, pictures are taken, everyone is post-drunk/tipsy, drinking, dirty talk, degradation, praise, grinding, nipple play, exhibitionism, voyeurism, spit roasting, oral (f. rec/m. rec), face fucking, alcohol play (?), unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, creampie supreme

requested ▸ @mellownorth my muse atp for filthy shit ᯓ an — this might just be filthier than my prev ot6 fic (ik it’s short but still) lemme know tho but anyways that loyl mv is a landmine of depravity

MASTERLIST

The air in the limo feels syrupy and warm, thick with a post-drunken haze. And a little bit of arousal. Or maybe that’s just you.

There’s six bodies around you in various states of intoxication and undress, disheveled in appearance with their hair askew and clothes in complete disarray. The late night lull of the afterparty has them dozed off into their own little worlds, conscious but not quite there. 

It’s all enticing. 

With the cramped space, the warmth of their bodies press around you like a tangible, tempting pressure. 

Jongseob sits across from you, leaning back in his seat as he half-heartedly clicks through the camera held precariously in his hands. You wonder what sort of debauchery he’s captured with those lenses. 

Shota sits to his right with his head on Jongseob’s shoulder, sort of watching Jongseob’s camera and sort of trying not to fall asleep. 

Jiung sits on Jongseob’s other side, off in his own world with his head leaned back and his dazed eyes stuck to the roof. 

On your right is Keeho, elbow on the door and his head in his hand, seeming hard at thought as he stares at Jiung's shoes. 

Intak seems to be the only one at almost full energy, foot tapping quietly to your left to the slow beat of the song that plays distantly through the limo speakers. 

And Theo… well.

You shift in your seat, jostling slightly when the body under you stirs awake. 

Theo’s strong hands come down on your hips to hold you still. You hear him click his tongue in annoyance before a brush of soft breath bristles your hair behind your head. 

“Sit still,” he murmurs, fingers digging into your clothed flesh for a quick moment. “Trying to sleep.”

You pout. You can’t sit still; there’s still a dull thread of energy that thrums under your veins, the remnants of the party’s adrenaline still pulsing through your body. You need to let it out somehow. 

So you lean your back against his warm chest, rolling your hips down on his lap in a pointed grind that has your ass pushing back against a prominent hardness. 

“Can’t,” you whisper, resting your head against his shoulder and turning to brush your lips against his ear, his soft brown hair tickling your nose at the movement. “I’m not tired.”

He clicks his tongue again, fingers dipping under the cropped cut of your white top before digging into your bare flesh. “You’re being needy now,” he chides quietly, but it still catches attention. 

You can feel eyes shift to you, pair by pair, as you let out a soft moan when Theo rolls his hips up. 

“Needy?” You hear Intak pipe up from you left, voice still a little slurred from his earlier drunken episode. 

But his tone is as enthusiastic as ever. The heat of his body closes in from your left, his large hand finding your waist before slowly gliding up your body. 

“All you had to do was say the word, princess,” Intak adds, the grin in his voice apparent. 

But you don’t get to look, because there’s a solid hand that wraps around your throat and turns your head towards Keeho. 

He has a lazy smirk on his lips, sharp eyes honing in on the way your lips part to let out a sharp breath as he presses into the sides of your neck. 

“Our princess isn’t very good with her words though, is she?” He asks, tone mocking as he leans into you. You think you can still catch the scent of Jack on his breath. 

You don’t get to respond, can’t rather, because Theo shifts and grinds his growing arousal right up into your aching cunt just as Intak’s palm finds your breast and squeezes. 

You moan, low and needy, and Keeho digs his thumb into your lower lip, smirk pulling up into a wicked grin. 

“Doesn’t matter though,” you hear Jongseob chuckle from across you, but Keeho doesn’t let you turn. “She always sounds good regardless.”

“I think you mean pathetic,” Jiung intercepts with his deep, disapproving voice and your mind goes hazier than the alcohol ever did, from the words and from the steady sensations of Theo grinding you down over his cock and Intak’s finger tweaking your nipple over your shirt. “Doesn’t take much to get her moaning like a whore.”

He’s not wrong, point and case being made in the moment. But you don’t care, too caught up with the existing heat in your veins firing hotter. Theo’s mouth nips languidly at your shoulder, exposed by your low sleeve, and your vision starts to go hazy where it’s still kept locked on Keeho’s intent gaze. 

“Don’t be so mean, hyung,” Soul chimes in sweetly, followed by the sound of a bottle cap hissing open. “Doesn’t she look so pretty tonight?”

“She does,” answers Jongseob, before you hear the click of a shutter and see a flash of white wash through the stuffy room. “Would be a shame to let it go to waste.”

Your vision clears as Keeho starts to lean into you. “It would,” he whispers, warm breath brushing over your lips. “Wouldn’t it?” 

Then his lips are on yours, expert tongue wasting no time in licking its way into your pliant mouth. There’s soft groans and whispered moans, whether from you, from him, or someone else—you don’t know. 

All you know is that you feel everything from everywhere. 

Theo’s lips are against your ear, whispering something about ruining this pretty outfit, as his flitting tongue traces the shell of your ear. 

Intak’s hand has found its way to your bare skin after rucking your shirt over your tits to expose heated skin and lacy bra to the humid, lust-laden air. His greedy fingers pull the cup of your bralette down to tease at your pebbling nipple without barrier, his eager mouth and tongue working their way from your shoulder to your collarbone.

You feel two soft hands land on your thighs. They’re not Theo’s—those remain in an iron grip on your hips still rocking you over his boner.

It takes more strength than you’re prepared for to turn from Keeho’s overbearing kiss but he only redirects to mouthing at your jaw, his hand still wrapped firmly around your neck. 

Soul is on his knees in the tight space between the two sets of seats, perched right between your and Theo’s legs, and looking up at you with those twinkling, inquiring eyes of his. 

You take hold of the skewed tie around his neck before pulling and parting your legs, and he takes his cue, diving right in under your skirt and flattening his eager tongue over your panty-clad, soaked cunt. 

You whine sharply when he immediately latches onto your clothed clit, body arching off of Theo’s when Intak’s lips latch onto your nipple at almost the exact same moment. 

But Theo’s hand flattens against your bare torso, pushing you right back against him. 

“Sit. Fucking. Still,” he hisses into your ear, and despite the way your body wants to twitch and writhe under all the sensation, you plant yourself down under his command. 

But the tremors that flit through your body are helpless, just as the whimpers and soft breaths that tumble from your lips are. 

Soul’s tongue flicks rapidly over your cunt, his spit adding to the slick mess of the thin fabric of your panties that are barely a barrier at this point. 

Despite Theo’s warning, your hips buck against Soul’s face, body jerking with pleasure when you feel the tip of his nose press right against your clit. 

A sudden flash brings you out of your pleasure induced haze, bleary eyes blinking open to see Jongseob with the camera. 

“Say kimchi, baby,” he coos teasingly before snapping another picture, not bothering to even give you the chance because he knows you don’t have the mind to speak. 

But your focus lands on the man beside him—Jiung, who sits there leaned back with his hand wrapped around the neck of a champagne bottle while his dark eyes drink you in. 

It’s hard to tell what he’s thinking, expression as stoic as ever. His eyes move down when you wince at the feeling of Intak’s teeth grazing over your nipple where he’s still suckling. 

Then he leans forward, taking a swig of the champagne before lifting off of his seat and leaning over into your space. 

Your heart flutters at the thought of him finally kissing you, but then Keeho’s hand moves from your neck to your jaw, forcing your mouth open, and Jiung lets warm champagne trickle out of his mouth and into yours. 

You bristle, a quick sound leaving your throat before it closes to not choke on the liquid as you let it well in your mouth, your wide eyes locked right onto his burning coals. 

The hand on your jaw loosens when Jiung finishes with a lick of his lips, eyes flickering down to your mouth. “Swallow.” 

Like under a trance, you do, opening your mouth again after to show that you have, and he hums before settling back in his seat as he takes another drink, eyes never once leaving you. 

“She’s so wet,” mumbles Soul from under your skirt, pulling back far enough that only his eyes peek out, the fabric caught over his nose and mouth. “Could probably fuck her without anymore prep.”

“Dibs!” Intak calls before anyone else can, much to the others’ chagrin, but it doesn’t really matter. 

Because he might be the first one to sit you on his cock and make you ride him to completion, might be the first to make you come over his cock before filling you with his own release, but he certainly wouldn’t be the last. 

Because then comes Theo, who lays down on Keeho’s lap before folding you in half and driving himself into you with such a force that in the recesses of your fucked out mind you wonder if it’s disrupting the drive.

But your head is filled with cotton, your mouth with Keeho’s dick, and your pussy with Theo’s (and Intak’s) cum, and there’s not a damn other thing that you come close to caring about. 

Keeho doesn’t get much time with you, can’t rather, because he’s already so close from your warm mouth that he just hastily handles your body towards him and fucks into you maybe twice, or three times, before he comes inside you with a guttural groan. 

You’re a trembling mess at that point, and you might have come once again, you can’t really tell, but do you get a moment to recover?

No, because then Soul and Jongseob pull you to their side, camera now shoved into Keeho’s lazy hands, and they get right to work. 

You’re not sure who you have fucking into your mouth and who you have pounding into your sopping cunt, but does it even matter? They flip you around after one of them finishes so they both get their chance to fuck and cum inside you anyway. It’s a group effort after all.

There’s champagne poured over your body at one point, eager tongues chasing the dripping liquid off your skin, but you’re too far gone to tell whose they are.

And Jiung, well, Jiung doesn’t even have the decency to fuck you. 

He just jerks himself to the sight of you getting utterly ruined by his friends until you’re to the point of tears and full to the brim with their cum. And once they’re done with you, and your used body is laid over Soul and Jongseob’s laps trying to grapple reality, he shoves your twitching legs apart and slots himself in just until the tip before stroking himself to completion, letting himself spill into you and add to your messy little collection. 

The last conscious image you have is of him leaning back into his seat, tucking himself back into his pants with a satisfied smirk as another flash goes off somewhere in the corner of your eye. 

taglist: @jellyybelly, @jseobbie, @tintedsvn, @seobjecttt, @stxrxyyz, @hxraiiii, @peachy-x-k33n, @choxochip, @ozzysoatsolivesandpasta, @boptak, @peonyjoo, @kittyshotak, @oyasumiaikko, @straystar-8, @aalyluvz, @evemds, @willowedjelly, @velvetjoong, @seonghwaswifeuuuu, @delicatechris, @orchidves, @lycxee, @girlcrushd, @halaziasupremacy, @chandlxa, @soulssnucky, @snyngjhn, @jiungs-wednesdaygirl, @leleluvrs, @princessthelsa, @nichozzystuffs, @mo8ny4951, @rockstartaeyang, @shmooooo, @cherryyberry1 @keymeadoww @1007-human @p1issocool @tikfreakingtak @nota10butadefinite8 @meiisamotherbitch @keehompreg @jsshu

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[jiuchip]

ꪆৎ DISCORD CALL || soul & jongseob (18+)

pairing | jongseob x reader x soul ༉‧₊˚.

synopsis | all you wanted was some attention; you didn't think it would lead to you being your boyfriend's best friend's entertainment for the night

details | nsfw (MINORS DNI), exhibitionism/voyeurism, cockwarming, unprotected sex, choking, creampie, masturbation, dom/sub dynamics ⟢ length | 3k ⟡

note || a continuation of my soulseob drabble from this but can be read as a standalone

“Can I join you?” You hear Soul ask through Jongseob’s headphones.

Your cunt flutters around Jongseob where he’s buried in your warm heat. If only Soul knew just what he was asking to join in on… That thought digs itself into your head and seeps through the dangerous parts of your brain. You bite down on your lip, dropping your head on Jongseob’s shoulder as you try to eradicate every lewd image that flashes through your mind. 

Jongseob stills where he’s sat under you, his hand freezing where it was kneading down on your thigh. There’s a palpable silence as you feel his gaze burning down on you; you can practically feel him uncovering every thought in your head with just his eyes.

“Join me, huh?” You hear Jongseob mutter in a tone that you know promises danger. 

You gasp sharply as his hand lifts from your thigh, his finger pressing against your throbbing clit. You squirm in his lap but he’s quick to hold you down with his other hand. 

“Yes.” Soul’s icon flashes with the incoming audio, and you stare at the ring of light as it pulses, trying to ignore everything else. “What are you doing?”

Your composure breaks as a quiet whine slips through your lips when Jongseob’s finger starts to press tight circles around your clit. His lips press warmly against your ear as he whispers to you, “Tell me if you want to stop.”

You watch with wide eyes as his hand lifts from your waist and reaches around you to hover his cursor over the camera button.

You don’t stop him as he clicks the button.

The screen shifts and you’re met with the image of yourself perched on Jongseob, innocent enough. But then Jongseob is lifting your thighs up and rolling the chair back, and whatever Soul was starting to say trails off with a sharp breath when he sees the position you’ve got yourself in. 

The way you’re displayed is lewd; panties pushed to the side to give way to where Jongseob is buried and stretching out your fluttering walls. It’s a little embarrassing how you’re already gushing around him, the slick pooling and nearly wetting his sweats that are haphazardly shoved down just enough to make way. 

The sight makes you turn to bury your face in Jongseob’s neck, where you can feel it as he laughs at your timidness. 

“Still want to join, Sho?” Jongseob says and you hear Soul’s shaky breath coming from the headphones lodged around Jongseob’s neck and under your head.

You feel a tremble shoot through your body when all you hear Soul say is a quiet, “She’s pretty.”

Jongseob presses his lips to your head, his hands hooking your legs over the armrests of the chair so you’re still kept on display.

“She is, isn’t she?” He hums in agreement as he pressed a hand over your naval, fingers brushing teasingly over the hem of your panties.

“Is it okay that I’m here?” Soul pipes up after a moment of quiet admiration, his voice already sounding affected even through the crackling audio of the discord call.

“It’s fine,” Jongseob says easily. “She likes the attention.”

The words go to your head and make it feel all stuffy with a heady need— the way they’re talking about you like you’re just a pretty little thing to be mused at. But you’re feeling a little restless with all the preamble; you’ve been kept warm on his cock for over a half hour already and you didn’t have much patience to start off with.

Jongseob hisses softly when your walls clamp down on him in a silent plea to get on with it. “She’s also a little impatient,” Jongseob scolds lightly before he pries off the headphones around his neck, letting your head fall unobstructed to his shoulder. “Take care of her for me, will you?”

You don’t get to wonder what he means by that before you feel him securing the headphones over your ears.

You lift your head, turning to give him a questioning look but he’s grabbing your chin and turning you to face the camera.

Soul’s voice wraps around your head like soft twine, beckoning your full attention to him. “Hi.”

You swallow down the little whine that nearly comes out. His voice has always been pleasing on your ears, musical but rough in a way that has you despising how quiet he tends to be. 

“Hi,” you say— breathe, more like it. Your heart stutters when you feel Jongseob’s warm hands come down to hold your hips in place when you start to squirm again.

Soul giggles, a sound that has you warm all over. “He was right about you being needy all the time.”

Of course Jongseob would tell him about the intimate parts of your relationship. You’re not innocent of that crime either though, so you don’t question it. 

Your lips pull down to a pout instead. “Well he’s been neglecting me for the past hour.” You yelp when Jongseob pinches the skin at your hip. “…Half hour,” you correct sheepishly. 

Soul giggles again, and you’re pretty sure you can come from that sound alone. “I guess I’ll just have to help you out here,” he says. You can hear some shuffling from his end like rustling of clothes. “Wanna see your tits first though.”

Your cheeks burn at his direct words; it doesn’t take you by surprise that he doesn’t sugar coat them but you still weren’t prepared. Your hands reach to pull up your shirt but Soul immediately stops you.

“No,” he cuts in quickly and you freeze. “Have him do it.”

His cadence isn’t demanding in any sense, it’s as soft as it always is, but there’s a simmering command in the undertone. It’s starting to become clearer how similar he and your boyfriend really are, as different as they may appear on the outside.

You redirect and lift Jongseob’s hands from your hips to the hem of your shirt, and he understands the cue despite not being able to hear Soul. He lifts it up enough to expose your chest to the cold air, leaving it bunched up at your shoulders.

You hear Soul exhale shakily and your skin prickles at the knowledge of you being pried on. “You’re pretty everywhere,” he mutters, like it wasn’t necessarily meant for you to hear. “Make him play with them.”

The orders add fire to the flames burning between your legs, leaving you needier for anything to quell the ache. But you don’t argue, because as much as you’re craving for stimulation, this is a thrill you’ve never felt before and you’re not ready for it to end quickly.

You nudge Jongseob’s hands from your shoulders down and he needs no further direction to start kneading the soft mounds, not bothering to be gentle with you. He’s long learned you’d prefer him not to be.

You moan softly under the rough touch, your hands bracing on his wrists. Moans turn to soft whimpers as he starts thumb at your nipples, working them into stiff peaks that he tugs at.

Soul’s breaths are coming heavier from the other end. You start to picture him and what he might look like splayed out on his own chair and touching himself to the sight of you. But all you have to go off is his icon flashing with every sharp breath that makes its way through the line.

“Wanna see you, Sho,” you find yourself saying without further thought. You gasp sharply when Jongseob’s thumbs dig harshly into your nipples, but he makes no move to interrupt.

Soul makes a soft noise, something like a whimper. He doesn’t bother with a verbal response before the screen changes. 

It goes black for a split second before you’re met with the image of Soul, leaning back on his chair with only his upper body visible and armed with his Pikachu headband around his head. His lips are parted with heavy breaths, his pale cheeks are flushed a pretty red, his round eyes are glued to his screen— to you. You can hear it more clearly now that you can see his arm moving— the quiet, slick sounds of skin on skin as his hand moves over himself just below screen.

The sight of him has you fluttering around Jongseob, who you feel twitching against you in response. His hands falter over your chest, opting to just stay pressed against you instead. You bite down on your lip to stifle your moan as you rock yourself down on his cock, desperate to feel something to soothe over your aching heat.

“Stop,” Soul interjects, and you can see the way his dark eyes flash with something heated as he says it.

Despite your craving for stimulation, you halt under his command.

“If you want to fuck him, do it properly,” he urges you, and you can see the movements of his arm slow down. “Get up on your knees, okay?”

It’s bizarre how the gentleness of his tone despite the sharp words turns you on. It’s becoming apparent to you that it’s not just Jongseob’s rough way of speaking to you that does it for you.

You take a slow breath as you drop your legs from the armrests, using your hands to brace on them instead as you prop yourself on your knees on either side of Jongseob’s thighs.

You whimper when Jongseob slips out of you from the movement but he’s quick to guide himself back into you while he uses his other hand to pull you back down to his lap. You grunt at the sharp impact, your body tensing when he rolls up into you, shoving his pulsing cock as deep as he can from that angle. The sharp pleasure has your head dropping back on his shoulder with a shuddered moan.

A strained laugh from Soul’s end has you looking back up at the screen to see a sly little smile on his lips. “You’re both needy,” he muses. His hand has stilled completely, his focus shifted to just watch you both. 

“Sho, please,” you beg, your knuckles whitening on the armrests with restraint. “Need to come.”

He hums, eyes fluttering closed for a short moment as his arm reanimates, the slick sounds of him stroking himself audible again. “Go on, then. Take what you need from him.”

You let out a sharp breath of relief, using your hands to start lifting yourself up. “Thank you,” you mumble out of instinct, then slowly sink back down on Jongseob’s cock, letting out a shaky breath as he fills you up again.

“So well behaved,” Soul coos fondly as Jongseob’s hands bear down on your hips, not pushing, just holding as you slowly fuck yourself on him. “Feel good?”

Your eyes flutter closed as you start to lose yourself to the way every ridge of Jongseob grazes along your walls, the way he steadily pulses and twitches in you with every languid thrust.

“Y-Yeah,” you gasp, blinking your eyes open. You watch as Soul’s hand slows down to match the pace you’ve set, but it’s frustrating that you can’t actually see. “Sho… Mm, wanna see you.”

Soul’s breath hitches and you see his hand falter. But he’s quickly rolling himself back on the chair, just enough so that you can see him work himself, his face still in frame. 

The sight has you clamping sharply down on Jongseob. His shorts are shoved to his mid thighs as he slowly strokes himself with a slick fist. He’s thick and hard in his grasp, leaking steadily with every stroke and flushed the same pretty red as his cheeks.

You can feel Jongseob twitch inside you, can feel the sharp breaths he takes by the rapid rise of his chest against your back. You get the sneaking suspicion that this ‘arrangement’ wasn’t only for you.

“So pretty, Sho,” you murmur, picking up the pace of your hips. The pleasure ebbs into a burning sensation that leaves you trembling after every thrust.

Just as you’d expected, Soul picks up the pace on his cock, his lips falling with short, quiet moans.

“Didn’t expect Jongseobie to be so noisy,” he says through laboured breaths.

You realize you haven’t been hearing a single thing from your boyfriend, thanks to his ridiculous noise-cancelling headphones, so you push one side of it back to catch the end of a soft whine when you sink fully down on him. 

You settle on his lap, giggling a little through the haze of your lust. “He’s always noisy.”

Jongseob retaliates by thrusting up in a pointed grind that has him punching right into your g-spot.

You yelp at the sharp spike of pleasure, your body jolting up in his hold but his hands on you are tight enough to pull you right back down on his cock.

“Seobie,” Soul says, and your headphones are dislodged enough from your head to let the audio reach Jongseob. “I wanna see her cum on your cock.”

You feel yourself throb pathetically at the declaration. 

“With pleasure,” Jongseob answers with a sly grin that you catch from the corner of the monitor where your camera feed is displayed.

Then he has one hand wrapped around your neck to keep you held back to his chest, the other one moving down to draw quick circles around your aching clit.

“Seob!” You gasp, your hands flying up to claw down on his forearm.

He’s relentless as he brings you down to your orgasm, your body strung up enough to reach it quickly with the rapid pleasure on your clit and the heady feeling of his fingers pressing into the sides of your neck.

You come while a cry of his name, your body thrashing through your climax.

You don’t get a chance to recover before he slips himself out of you and you’re being manhandled up to your feet and bent over his desk. Your hands scramble to find purchase as you feel him hastily tug your panties down before he’s bullying his way back into your sensitive cunt, ignoring the way you cry out at the burn as he starts to pound into you, his nails sharp as they dig into your hips.

You’re helpless to just take it, your fingers clawing into the wood of his desk, body bucking up with each rough thrust and wanton moans stumbling from your lips. 

Your eyes are blurry from the overwhelming pleasure but you can still make out the screen. The camera captures the sight of you bent over and Jongseob fucking mindlessly into you as he chases his pleasure, shirt tucked up under his chin to keep everything visible for Soul. 

Soul, whose face is twisted with pleasure, who’s working his cock in the same rapid pace as Jongseob is fucking into you with.

Jongseob’s hand reaches over to yank the wire of the headphones out of his PC, and Soul’s frantic breaths and whiney moans are out there in the air mixing with yours and Jongseob’s.

“Fuck,” Jongseob whispers, his hips faltering when he finally gets to hear Soul. He bears his hand on your head to keep you down, then starts to fuck into you again with a new vigour that has you already barreling towards your next orgasm.

Your eyes stay locked onto Soul’s image, the way he whispers your name in repeated tandem with the way he starts to fuck up into his fist, his nose scrunched as he fights to hold out. 

But he breaks, and brings both you and Jongseob down with him. He comes with a sharp cry of your name, head thrown back, face twisted in bliss as his body writhes through his orgasm. 

The sound of your name on his lips through broken moans has you falling again. You come for the second time with Soul’s name on your tongue this time, and that has Jongseob’s hips stutter as he drives desperately into you in frantic thrusts before he pushes all the way in and stills as he paints your walls with his release. 

Your limbs fall loose as the high of your climax fades, numb to the way Jongseob remains buried and twitching in you. He’s quick to gather you in his arms before falling back into his chair, holding you against him. 

“Shota,” he says through rough breaths as he reaches down to loop an arm under your leg, ignoring your questioning whimper as he lifts it.

Soul blinks his eyes open, clearing the haze to focus on Jongseob as he pulls himself out of you and pushes two fingers into your twitching folds.

The sharp hiss you make at the contact does nothing to deter him, neither does the way you scold his name. He shushes you quiet, pressing his lips to your cheek as he scissors his fingers open and lets his release leak out of you in a steady stream.

You would hide your face from the embarrassment of being pried apart like this, but you don’t want to look away from the look on Soul’s face as he watches with his mouth agape. 

“Fuck,” he breathes as he starts to frantically fix himself up. “I’m coming over. Don’t move.”

Then the video feed cuts out as the call ends, and you’re left with a full screen view of Jongseob’s fingers in your messy cunt, creaming with your mixed arousals.

You turn your face into Jongseob’s neck to escape the image, groaning. “Put that away,” you grumble, wincing when you feel his fingers swiping at the arousal leaking out of you before pushing it back in your twitching folds.

“Hush.” He grabs your chin with his other hand, lifting your gaze to his teasing one. “Shota’s coming over. Don’t be acting up now.”

You scowl. “Or what?”

His eyes flash with something heavy and you have to fight to not wither under it. 

“He may seem nice,” he trails off to peck your lips softly, a daunting contrast to the weight of his next words, “But he can be a lot worse than me if you provoke him. So behave.”

taglist: @jellyybelly, @jseobbie, @lycxee, @tintedsvn, @dollieholls, @missmaiamay, @mrssaturday, @sweetasberry, @stxrxyyz, @arw217, @hxraiiii, @elmolovesw33d, @peachy-x-k33n, @halaziasupremacy, @choxochip, @girlcrushd, @ozzysoatsolivesandpasta, @snyngjhn, @boptak, @orchidves, @peonyjoo, @kittyshotak, @oyasumiaikko, @straystar-8, @pxronbeat1, @chandlxa, @aalyluvz, @evemds, @willowedjelly message me or comment to be added to my taglist! 𓆩⟡𓆪 check out my masterlist for my other works + works in progress 

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© jiuchip

[jiuchip]

ᝰ.ᐟ p1h — answering the phone during sex || maknae line

details | nsfw (MINORS DNI), exhibitionism, sub!intak, overstimulation, choking, riding, oral (f. rec), cockwarming

⟢ note || should i finish my other two wips that i started first? no, i'll do this instead || EDIT: continuation for the jongseob blurb here!

HYUNG LINE / MASTERLIST

—⊹₊⟡⋆ INTAK

The sight of Intak under you, crying from being all fucked out and dumb from overstimulation, is one that you’ll never get tired of. 

Not with the way he sniffles as he repeats your name like a prayer, not while he’s fighting his glassy eyes to stay open, not while he’s clawing at your unrelenting hips as you ride him with no mercy for how sensitive he is from already coming twice.

But despite everything, he’s still hard and throbbing inside you and begging you to keep going, please don’t stop, give him another, and who are you to deny that wide, starry-eyed gaze. 

“You’re so needy, Takki,” you coo through your heavy breaths, sliding one hand up to wrap around his neck. “Already gave you two and you want another?” 

He whines when your fingers squeeze down at the sides of his neck, his eyes rolling back while his kiss bitten lips fall open, giving way to panting breaths. 

You can feel the way his muscles go taut under you as you fuck him to his edge, can feel him pulsing against your walls. His breaths start to get all high and frantic, his hips driving up in quick, pathetic little rolls, and he fucks himself up into you right until—

Your ringtone pierces through and shatters the moment. You land down on his twitching hips with a frustrated breath. Intak whines, mourning the loss of stimulation as you reach over to the nightstand.

“No, mm, please don’t,” Intak pleads you, his hands reaching out for your waist as he keeps trying to buck up into you in search of that lost high. 

But you keep yourself still over him, grabbing his wrist and pinning it down to the bed. “You can hold for just a minute,” you scold him, then lean down to peck his lips when he lets out a whimper that tugs at your heartstrings.

The kiss seems to settle him just a little; he sighs deeply and nods, letting his body go lax as much as it can while it’s still trembling from the loss.

You answer the phone, bringing it up to your ear as you soothe your hand over Intak’s twitching stomach. “Hello?”

“Hey!” It’s Jiung’s voice. “Is Intak with you? He’s not picking up his phone.”

You look down at Intak, whose eyes are unfocused and glued onto your lips. He’s not processing a single word. 

“Yeah, he’s here.”

“Great, can I talk to him for a bit?”

You’re about to deny him, but the sadistic part of you sings at the chance to torture your whiney boy just a little more. “Of course.”

Intak’s eyes start to clear when he sees that grin curling on your face. You put the phone on speaker before dropping it beside Intak’s head, and that has Intak blinking up at you all wide and confused. 

“It’s Jiung,” you tell him, then brace your hands on his stomach and lift yourself up his cock slowly. 

A moan threatens to escape at the sudden stimulation but you see him quickly bite it back before it can spill. 

“H-Hyung,” he bites out through a rough breath, his face twisting in pain when you start to fuck yourself slowly down on him.

“Intak-ah,” you hear Jiung say. “I had an idea for WASP.”

The way Intak physically fights to hold his noises has a smile pulling on your lips despite the way he’s glaring weakly up at you. 

“T-That’s— We talked about that already,” Intak says through laboured breaths. “Jongseob— mm—“

“Yeah, I know I know,” Jiung interrupts, sounding a little miffed. “I know I can’t be part of it but can’t I still give ideas at— are you working out?”

You bite down on your lip to stifle your laugh, bringing yourself down sharply on the next thrust. 

“Ah— Sort of,” Intak snaps through grit teeth, throwing his head back with a shaky breath when you roll your hips down again, hard.

“With her?” Jiung asks, completely clueless. “I thought you liked working out alone.”

Intak’s eyes are tearing up again and he’s starting to writhe out of control under you, and you actually feel a little bit bad now.

“Jiung,” you call, reaching over to grab your phone. “Can Intak call you back?”

“Uh, yeah, sure it can wait. Enjoy your—“

You end the call and drop the phone, surging forward to kiss Intak’s trembling lips. 

He sobs into the kiss, his arms winding tightly around you. “—‘re so mean,” he whines into the kiss but you shush him quiet, letting your hips pick up the pace with intent. 

“Sorry baby,” you whisper, pecking his lips again. “You can come for me now.”

—⊹₊⟡⋆ SOUL

Soul’s tongue is driving you crazy, rapid and warm as it fucks into your soaked, fluttering walls. 

His arms are steel as they wrap around your thighs and hold your squirming body down on the kitchen counter. It doesn’t matter that you’re shaking and pulling at his hair, overwhelmed from already coming on his tongue twice; he’s adamant on pulling another one out of you.

“Shota,” you whine, grabbing a fistful of his hair and tugging, but all he does is shove his tongue deeper into you. “Fuck! ‘S too much!”

He pulls away, and you gasp a breath of relief as the burning sensation from the relentless stimulation finally starts to ease down. When you hear him curse, you blink out the haze in your eyes and look up at him. Confusion clouds through your lust when you see him fumbling for something in his pocket.

“What is it?” You ask through stuttered breaths, trying to sit yourself up but his hand shoots up to your chest and pushes you right back down.

“No,” he snaps, pulling his phone out of his back pocket with his other hand. “I’m not done with you yet. I forgot to call Seob.”

You can’t even ask him what the hell he’s going on about before the phone is ringing and on speaker and then he’s attaching his mouth back to your cunt. 

The onslaught of stinging pleasure from his tongue circling your clit has you crumpling down on the cold marble again, your head thrown back with shaky moans. 

Jongseob’s voice cutting through the phone has you scrambling to clamp your hand down over your mouth, frantic to hold your noises in.

“Shota, where the hell are you?”

Soul detaches his mouth from you with a wet smack but his thumb is right there to take its place, drawing quick circles around your throbbing clit.

“Something came up,” Soul says, his eyes glued onto the way your walls flutter around nothing. “I’m gonna be a little late.” Then his tongue is shoving its way back into your pulsing walls, his finger still unrelenting on your clit, and you have to fight with all your willpower to bite back the loud whine that bubbles in your throat.

“You could’ve told me that before I started the lobby,” Jongseob grumbles through the line, completely unaware of the fact that his best friend is defiling his girl on the other end. “What are you doing anyway?”

Soul lifts off of you, answers him with your name, cuts the call, then attaches his lips around your clit and sucks. 

You don’t have the mind to scold him, too busy coming on his mouth for the third time.

—⊹₊⟡⋆ JONGSEOB

“Stay still,” Jongseob hisses, his hands clamping down on your squirming hips to keep them still on his lap.

You whine softly, your walls squeezing down on his hardening length inside of you as you struggle to ease around the stretch.

You felt a little bad about disrupting his gaming session but it was late and you were feeling needy and he was quick to invite you onto his lap when he noticed you writhing around on the bed. He'd asked you to keep him warm while he finished his level and you were content with getting anything.

But feeling him steadily growing inside you while he clicked away on his keyboard had your craving for him grow stronger than your patience.

“Seobie,” you whine as his hands leave you for his keyboard and mouse again.

Warm lips press against your temple in an attempt to quell your impatience. “Just a little longer,” he tells you calmly, though you pick up the uptick in his breaths. “Then I’ll fuck you good, promise.”

You pout but hold onto his words, leaning back on his chest. “Can I touch myself?”

“No.”

You nearly whine but you decide against being bratty; you’d rather not set him off and have him tease you for hours again.

So you settle down, slow your breaths, and let yourself relax around his cock, mustering every patient bone in your body. The easy air gets tempered when his Discord ringtone cuts sharply through the ambient noises of his game, making you flinch.

Jongseob is quick to accept the call and Soul’s voice comes clear from where Jongseob’s headphones are hung around his neck. 

“Hello?”

“Shota,” Jongseob greets and switches over to the Discord tab where you watch Soul’s icon fluoresce as he speaks through the call. 

“I’m bored,” is what he says, and you’re not entirely sure why the sound of his voice has you pulsing around Jongseob.

Jongseob’s hand comes down on your hip again as he leans back in his chair, pulling your back against his chest with his other hand.

“I thought you were playing Minecraft,” Jongseob says, his hand falling down to caress your bare thigh. The casual way he speaks while he’s got his cock buried inside you has that needy feeling fester hotter in your gut.

“I was,” Soul huffs. “And now I’m bored. What are you doing? Can I join you?”

Your walls clamp down sharply on Jongseob. If only Soul knew just what he was asking to join in on… That thought digs itself into your head and seeps through the dangerous parts of your brain. You bite down on your lip, dropping your head on Jongseob’s shoulder as you try to eradicate every lewd image that flashes through your brain. 

Jongseob stills behind you, his hand freezing where it was kneading down on your thigh. There’s a palpable silence as you feel his gaze burning down on you; you can practically feel him uncovering every thought in your head with just his eyes.

“Join me, huh?” You hear Jongseob mutter in a tone that you know promises danger. 

You gasp sharply as his hand lifts from your thigh, his finger pressing against your throbbing clit.

“Yes,” says Soul. “What are you doing?”

A quiet whine slips through your lips as his finger starts to circle your clit. His lips press warmly against your ear as he whispers to you, “Tell me if you want to stop.”

You watch with wide eyes as his other hand reaches around you and moves his mouse to hover over the camera button.

You don’t stop him.

a/n — soulseob continuation here!

taglist: @jellyybelly, @jseobbie, @lycxee, @tintedsvn, @dollieholls, @missmaiamay, @mrssaturday, @sweetasberry, @stxrxyyz, @arw217, @hxraiiii, @elmolovesw33d, @peachy-x-k33n, @halaziasupremacy, @choxochip, @girlcrushd, @ozzysoatsolivesandpasta, @snyngjhn, @boptak, @orchidves, @peonyjoo, @kittyshotak, @oyasumiaikko, @straystar-8, @pxronbeat1, @chandlxa, @aalyluvz message me or comment to be added to my taglist! 𓆩⟡𓆪 check out my masterlist for my other works + works in progress 

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© jiuchip

[jiuchip]

ᯓ IN THE DOGHOUSE — c. jiung (18+)

℘ — jiung (지웅) x reader    ▸   ⌜ 1.9k ⌟

synopsis ▸ when jiung gets caught practically stripping on stage, you’re none too happy to find out just how showy your boyfriend is for his fans. but when you banish him from the bedroom, he manages to weasel his way back into more than just your bed.

δ — nsfw (mdni), smut, extremely needy jiung, degradation/anger kink, fucking while they're mad sorta, one sided arguments (reader yells and jiung just takes it and gets horny), unprotected sex, creampie

ᯓ an — thank u lily for bringing my motivation back with this scrumptious idea <3 this is just porn with a little plot bc i would be mad asf if i was his gf and he was out on stage lifting his shirt and telling people its because he was wet yeah u were mf i see u

“Choi Jiung.”

Jiung hasn’t even taken one step into his home, and he knows already that he’s in deep, deep shit. 

For what, he can’t surmise. Though he might have an inkling. 

He shuts the door behind him very slowly, takes his shoes off very slowly, then rounds the corner from the hall into the living room very, very slowly. 

And there you are, standing against the island with your arms crossed. You don’t look angry, and that’s the worst part. You just stare at him, expecting, like he’s the one who called this impromptu intervention. 

He doesn’t dare speak first because he knows whatever he says will be the wrong thing anyway. 

But when you keep staring at him, eyes growing narrower by the micron as the steely seconds pass, he’s left with no choice. 

“I missed you—“

“What the hell is this?” Your voice makes him step back, startled at the sudden way you step forward and shove your phone into his space. 

He blinks rapidly, the screen coming into focus. 

It’s a looped, blurry video of him on Twitter, lifting his shirt and exposing himself—butterflies and all—in the middle of a performance, on stage and in front of thousands of people... thousands of women. Well, that’s what it seems like but all he remembers is trying to detach the sticky fabric off his skin. 

But watching it now, it looks… suspicious… and when he lifts his gaze back to you, the glare explains it all.

“Wait, no, that’s not what it—“

“Not what it looks like?” You huff, shoving the phone in your pocket. He stammers silently, unsure how he’s somehow said the wrong thing again. 

“The shirt was wet! I was—“

“So you had to flash everyone?”

Well, truly he can’t remember what he was doing. His brain goes on autopilot sometimes during the shows and the questionable things he does aren't really in his control. That’s stage Jiung, not normal Jiung. Stage Jiung is the promiscuous harlot, not him!

He means to say all of this. But all his brain can make him do is gape like a fish. 

You click your tongue, and in his 24 years of life Jiung has never felt so chastised—not even when his dad found him after he ran away from home that second time. 

You turn to leave and Jiung lurches forward, grabbing you by the arm. 

“Love, I promise that wasn’t me—“

Okay, that came out wrong. 

You whip around again, your glare somehow even sharper, and Jiung nearly curls into himself. 

“Oh? Who was it then, prancing around the stage like a show whore?”

His face burns, his body burns. He knows you’re upset with him, but his dick doesn’t seem to get that hint. 

He swallows down his pride, wringing his hands together, eyes flitting away. “…Stage Jiung?”

The silence is somehow worse. 

Then a sigh, and you’re turning away again. 

“You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

And you leave him there, kind of scared that he’d actually pushed it too far this time, and kind of turned on that it just makes him want to push more.

𓆩⟡𓆪

You should’ve known that banishing Jiung to the living room would be a fruitless attempt. He’s clingier than you are possessive, and keeping him away from you for more than a workday is like depriving him of oxygen. 

So, soon enough, when it hasn’t even been an hour since you’d tucked into bed, you hear his soft footsteps pad eagerly up to your door. 

You take a breath, mentally preparing yourself for a war of attrition, completely determined to not let him win this time.

Even his quiet, endearing little “jagi?” as he pokes his head into the room doesn’t sway you. You shut your eyes quickly in hopes that he’ll just change his mind and go away. 

He doesn’t. 

“I know you’re not asleep,” he says, and his tone is so stringy and drawn out and warm in the way that makes you want to coddle him that you nearly hurl a pillow at his head. 

It makes you violent sometimes just how cute he can be with his voice alone. 

You let out an irritated huff, sharply turning to face away from him. 

Like the nuisance that he is, he crawls into the space behind you anyway. You curse yourself for not keeping it all occupied to steer him away. 

He’s quiet for a while, and you’re fine to just let it go and go to sleep without saying anything to make your point, but then he’s talking to you again in that tiny voice of his. 

“Are you really ignoring me?”

You grit your teeth. Yes, you yell telepathically. 

It’s a strategy, you remind yourself. He knows how to weaponize his cuteness. You’re not falling prey to it again. 

You feel a gentle tug at your hair—he must be twirling it around his finger like he always does when he wants to just be connected to you somehow. 

You’re about to turn around and bat him away—but then he’s plastering himself to your back. 

“Please don’t ignore me,” he whines into the back of your head. Then, he grinds his hips against your ass, and your eyes snap open at the prominent hardness you feel prodding against you. He buries his face into your shoulder, his hot breath hitting your neck. “‘M so hard… help me?”

You squeeze your eyes shut, pursing your lips as you turn your face into the pillow. 

Fuck, what the hell are you supposed to do now?

Nothing, your brain supplies. 

But Jiung gets restless without attention, and very persistent. He’s bound to wear you down. 

Whatever, he hasn’t earned the grace of your attention. If he wants to get off, he can get off himself. 

“Tried on my own. Didn’t work,” he grumbles like he’s got a gateway into your inner thoughts. 

You hold in a gasp as he adjusts himself to slot his bulge against you, giving just enough pressure against you that has you nearly pushing back for more. You hold yourself strong.

And he hates it, clicking his tongue as he ruts helplessly against you again like that’ll get you to cave. 

“Jagi,” he whines again, drawing out the word as he shoves his face into the back of your head. 

You swallow down your hammering heart, squeezing your thighs shut to quell the growing burn. 

The thin fabric of your sleep shorts is a feeble barrier to hide the way his cock pulses against you with heavy need. 

He lets out a short grunt, frustrated when you still don’t respond. 

“Fine,” he huffs and you can almost hear the pout. 

You think it’s a cue to him leaving and you nearly protest the idea—until you hear the shuffle of clothes and then feel the blunt head of his cock nudging against the back of your clothed cunt. 

“Just—” He cuts off with a guttural groan as he traces your slit, the heated line of pressure of his cock carving through you as he pushes into the warm crevice created between your thighs. 

His arms wrap around your waist, clinging desperately as he messily bucks into you, slathering your silk shorts with his precum and quickly making you make a mess of it too with your own growing arousal. 

“Please,” he mumbles, words slurred against your ear. “Jus’ let me have this… just this, ‘ma make you feel—hah—feel good too…”

You fight to hold in every little noise that threatens to escape you whenever he nudges against your clit, but the pressure is so quick and short lived that you kind of want to throw a tantrum and demand he fuck you properly. But that would mean him winning. And you’re very egotistical in that sense, maybe even worse than him. 

Your fist clutches into the sheets as he drives himself against you, very uncoordinated and clumsy, but the careless noises that spill out of him that he would normally contain point to that fact that he couldn’t give more of a fuck about anything if it doesn’t mean him getting to cum. 

And it’s becoming almost unbearable for you to hold it all in, with the thick pressure of his cock sliding against your heat just a barrier away, so hot and so enticing. 

Your cunt weeps with the emptiness. And you nearly sob when he stops moving, just for a second. 

“‘M sorry I’ve been misbehaving,” he mumbles into your ear, gasping when he starts to rut into you again, even quicker and even clumsier. “Promise it was a mistake… fuck—” he breaks when his cock slips into the leg of your shorts, pushing into the wet mess of your folds. 

You can’t hold your gasp back then, your body seizing at the sudden friction of his bare cock against you. 

“Sorry,” he gasps, but just starts to fuck into that space anyway, apparently not very sorry. 

He holds your hip with one hand to keep you still, whimpering when his tip catches against your hole. 

And instead of heeding his own word to get himself off and pulling away, he pushes in.

“Sorry!” He gasps again, grunting at the tight heat of you clamping down at the sudden intrusion. 

“J-Jiung,” you heave, starting to squirm, but your train of thought gets completely derailed when he starts chanting ‘sorry, sorry, sorry,’ as he just pushes in and in and in until he’s seated deep inside you. 

You both settle with deep, shuddering breaths, bodies seized tight to get used to the feeling after days of nothing. 

And then you push your hips back, just a little, and the dam breaks. 

He clamps both his hands on your hips, pulls you back into an arch, and starts pounding into you, whispering and begging and sobbing into your hair about how he needs you, wants you, has to cum in you or he won’t be able to sleep.

And it drives you mad, how even after thoroughly pissing you off, he somehow manages to piss you off even more with how good he can fuck that anger out of you. 

Your body melts into the mattress as he flips you down and pistons you into it, muttering his apologies and singing his gratitude. 

“Won’t be bad ever again,” he vows into the back of your shoulder as he fucks right into that gummy spot inside you. “‘M just yours—fuck, thankyouthankyouthankyou—fuck!”

His cock pulses inside you, but just before he can spill, he rips himself off of you and flips you over. 

Because Jiung has an obsession with filling you with his cum that it doesn’t matter what position you’re in, he’ll fold you in half and drive in as deep as he can to make sure he’s giving it to you properly. 

And you lay there, eyes rolled to the back of your head as the warmth of his cum pools deep in your womb, his head buried in your chest, that you thank whatever power that’s out there that makes him act like a whore on stage, because none of them know just what Jiung reduces himself to for you and only you.

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