#seungmin x reader

[midnite-fiction]

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖𝓝oise Complaint

best friend! Kim 𝓢󠁡eungmin x f!reader x campus crush! Bang 𝓒han 9,193 words

in 𝓦hich: you can do nothing but complain to your best friend seungmin about the thin walls of your apartment and your roommate’s relentless sex life driving you insane. you don’t have to guts to admit to him that sometimes you actually listened in, hoping that her hot boyfriend, chris, was pounding into you instead. but seungmin isn't stupid, and he helps you give chris a taste of his own medicine.

content warnings & tags: this honestly became way smuttier than I had expected tbh, so proceed with caution. voyeurism !! 65% of this is dom! seung and the rest needy! chan. eventual threesome, degradation, use of toy, orgasm denial(?), lots and lots of name-calling, masturbation (f), oral (f & m recieving), unprotected sex, lots of things tbh, so lmk if i missed anything! sexual content ahead, viewer discretion is advised.

conversations with seungmin were like slipping into your favourite worn-out hoodie; something that you don't even remember when it had become a constant in your life. 

somewhere between late-night study sessions and shared meals at the campus café, he had quietly become your best friend; the one person who had seen you cry over grades, over family calls that ended too abruptly, over dreams that felt too big for dorm-room ceilings. with him, nothing felt too heavy to say out loud.

you were on the phone now, sprawled across your bed, your laptop abandoned somewhere near your feet, whining about the latest group assignment while he laughed—loud, unfiltered, the kind that made your stomach flip even when you pretended it didn’t.

“—and then this idiot submits the wrong file, so now we’re all scrambling like headless chickens,” you groaned, flopping dramatically onto your pillow.

seungmin snorted. “sounds like karma for calling my coding project ‘a glorified calculator app’ last week.”

you laughed despite yourself. “prof seemed to agree with me if i remember correctly.”

he scoffed, already launching into a dramatic defense of his work, when suddenly you heard it. the soft click of the door. followed by hushed giggles. footsteps. your stomach dropped.

“oh no,” you muttered. 

“what happened?” seungmin asked, confused at the sudden change in your voice.

before you could answer, the muffled sound of voices drifted through the thin walls. your roommate. and her boyfriend.

“ugh,” you groaned, dragging a hand down your face. “it’s happening. again.”

seungmin laughed. because of course he did, with your misery being his main source of entertainment. “what is?”

“it’s sooha and her boyfriend. chris? i’d told you about them, remember?” you replied, lowering your voice instinctively. “they can not keep it in their pants, man, i swear. she’s been dating this guy for, like, two weeks now, and almost every day they decide our dorm is their personal love hotel. it’s so fucking annoying.”

“sucks to be you,” seungmin said, completely unhelpful and way too used to your roommate’s antics.

you huffed, half annoyed, half exhausted, and he moved on, ranting about something else entirely. some professor. some deadline. his voice droned comfortably in your ear, familiar and grounding, and yet your attention betrayed you.

because the noises didn’t stop, they never did. 

they only continued till you felt like you were losing your mind.

to be honest, it wasn’t truly even that bad. your rooms were on the opposite ends of the cozy living room, and the walls were thick enough that you could continue with your work without needing to blast music at full volume if you were focused enough. 

but it was never about the sounds, no matter how much you told yourself, but it was always about his presence. 

the noises started almost immediately— soft at first, the creak of the mattress in the next room, her breathy laugh turning into something softer, needier. then his low murmur, the kind that carried just enough bass to vibrate through the wall. you could picture it too clearly: his hands on her waist, her head tipping back, the way the bedframe would tap rhythmically against the wall soon enough.

you swallowed hard.

“hey? you there?” seungmin’s voice sharpened, his concern cutting through the haze.

you blinked, grounding yourself. “what?”

“you went quiet,” he said. “you okay, angel?”

of course he noticed. he always did. he knew your pauses, your tells, the way your breathing changed when something was wrong. and now this, apparently.

“yeah. yeah, of course,” you said quickly, laughing a little at your awkwardness. “sorry. i’m just… yeah. it’s nothing. continue.”

but it wasn’t nothing.

you’d complained to him countless times about your roommate. about the noise, the lack of boundaries, the frustration of trying to study or sleep through it all. 

what you didn’t tell him was the part that made your stomach twist with guilt. the part you buried so deep you barely admitted it to yourself.

that sometimes, in the quiet moments when you were alone with your thoughts, your imagination betrayed you. that sometimes you pictured her boyfriend in places he had no right to be. 

the idea unsettled you as much as it lingered, and the shame of it burned hotter than the thought itself.

“i need to go now,” the muffled sound of seungmin getting up and moving around brought you back. “you sure you’re okay? you can come by if you feel too uncomfortable or something? i’ll just tell the guys to reschedule—”

“no, no, minnie, that won’t be necessary, i’m fine. thank you for offering though,” you say. “sorry for making you worry, i was just… thinking about what we’re gonna do with the project.”

“okay then,” he didn’t sound convinced, but didn’t press further. “all the best, angel.” he ended the call, and silence settled in, making it harder for you to ignore the couple next door. 

it had been weeks since your last call with seungmin. assignments, group meetings, finals prep; the usual excuses had kept you both busy and orbiting around each other at a safe distance. 

quick waves across the lecture hall, a shared eye-roll during a particularly brutal presentation, but no real time. no late-night rants, no movie marathons, no accidental silences that meant too much.

now that your exams were finally over, it felt as if a weight had been lifted, and you had called seungmin over to make up for lost time. 

you hummed to yourself as you fired off yet another text, wearing your most comfortable tank top and shorts; double, triple checking if he had picked up all the snacks you had asked him for; 

seung seungmiinnnnnnn u got the spicy ramen right? AND the chips i told u about?? DON’T YOU DARE FORGET THE SOJU minnniee my loveeeee pls come quick baby i’m starving

his reply was instant, predictably teasing;

crazy how you only care about me when i bring snacks yes mom i have everything stop spamming or i’ll eat them all in the hallway

you practically skipped out of your room when the doorbell rang, bare feet padding across the cool floor, already rehearsing the dramatic “finally!” you were going to greet him with.

but then you stopped dead in your tracks when you saw him. 

chris was sitting on the couch, legs spread comfortably, elbows on his knees, thumbs flying across his phone screen with that same focused frown you’d seen a hundred times from across campus. he looked up when you froze in the doorway, and his expression softened instantly into that polite, disarming smile.

“hey,” he said, voice low and easy. his gaze flicked over you— quick, not lingering, but enough to make heat crawl up your neck anyway. you were suddenly hyper-aware of the thin strap slipping off one shoulder, the way the shorts rode up your thighs when you shifted.

“sooha’s not here,” you voiced your first thought, because apparently your brain had forgotten the concept of small talk.

“oh, yeah i know,” he looked sheepish. 

no matter what complicated feelings you had about him and sooha, you still knew chris was a good person, who was oblivious to whatever was shared between you and his girlfriend. 

and standing there alone with him now, you felt a pang of guilt for how thoroughly you had been avoiding him on campus these past weeks, your eyes finding everyone but his when he waved or smiled at you from across the room. 

“sorry for coming here unannounced,” he continued, “but—”

the doorbell rang again, cutting him off, followed almost immediately by seungmin’s unmistakable voice.

“yah, did you die or something? open up before i eat all your snacks! don’t test me!”

you laughed despite yourself, the tension cracking like thin ice as you excused yourself, hurrying to the door.

“i had literally been standing here for, like, three hours,” seungmin complained as soon as you opened the door, his hands reaching to loosen the tie he was still wearing from his part-time job. then suddenly his expression shifted, eyes sliding past you to the living room. “chan hyung? what are you doing here?”

“chan… what?” you echoed faintly, stepping aside to let him in, your brain short-circuiting at how easily that nickname had rolled off seungmin’s tongue.

chris looked up, surprised, then grinned wide. “minnie?” 

seungmin stepped fully inside, kicking the door shut behind him, eyes darting between you and chris like he was trying to solve a math problem in real time.

you moved on autopilot, taking the bags from seungmin’s hands and mumbling, “i’ll just… put these in my room,” before you heard the two of them exchange a few words, laughter spilling out effortlessly. you softly clicked your bedroom door shut behind you and leaned against it for a second, breathing.

what the actual fuck?

a few moments later the knob turned. seungmin slipped inside, eyes comically wide, voice dropping to a dramatic whisper the second the latch caught.

“when you said sooha’s horny ass boyfriend was chris, you meant chan hyung?” he was unsure whether he found this funny or horrifying. 

“how do you know your chan hyung anyway?” you huffed, somehow feeling annoyed at this new information as you plopped down on the edge of your bed, arms crossed over your chest.  

“we used to go to the same high school... was in the same friend group for a while,” he said with a soft smile, his eyes drifting to the way your breasts looked pushed up for a split second. “and we had a few classes together this semester, too,” 

he didn’t mention the part where they’d fucked girls in the same room, sometimes at the same time.

“well then how come you never mentioned this friend of yours?” you muttered. your annoyance hid something worse; embarrassment. 

seungmin shrugged, an amused smile on his face. “i mean… i don’t know, you never asked? he’s just someone, y’know? it just never came up.”

he dragged your desk chair over and sat facing you, knees almost touching yours. the easy teasing from earlier was gone; now he was watching you carefully, like he could see the embarrassed flush creeping up your cheeks and the way your fingers found the hem of your tank top, an obvious nervous tick.

you huffed, trying to play it off. “great. so i’ve been ranting to you about this guy for weeks, and you’re just… casually friends with him. fan-fucking-tastic.”

seungmin’s mouth twitched, fighting a smile. “to be fair, you never said his name until like… a month in. plus, i think i know like, i don't know, three chris-es? c’mon. i just never connect the dots.”

you groaned, flopping backward onto the mattress, arms over your face. “i hate everything.”

he laughed fondly, shaking his head at your reaction. a silence washed over the room as he watched you, giving your thoughts room to drift back to months earlier, when it had all begun.

you and sooha were civil in the way strangers sharing a small space learn to be. 

polite smiles. short conversations about laundry schedules and whose turn it was to take out the trash. you never fought, but you never clicked either. there was nothing to talk about, no shared humor, no late-night confessions. just co-existence.

and then there was chris.

you were strangers at first, your life more peaceful when you didn’t know of his existence. 

but then one mundane day you saw him, laughing with his friends, and something about the way he just existed made everything else blur. 

you only knew he was a semester ahead of you, nothing else, but ever since then, you seemed to find him everywhere. 

the library steps. the cafe outside the campus. outside your lecture hall. he always smiled at you when your gazes met, not in a way that felt intrusive, just… warm. polite. but somehow intentional enough to feel that his eyes always found yours. enough to make your chest feel oddly tight every time.

a few nights later, you told sooha, the day a blur of cheap alcohol and lowered defenses. your living room smelled like spilled soju and burnt popcorn, and the music from someone else’s room thudded through the walls. you remember sitting cross-legged on the couch, both of you giggling at nothing, courage borrowed from the green bottles.

“you know chris, the one with the australian accent? i think i have the biggest crush on that man. he's soo fine,” you giggled between hiccups, the first time you had admitted that fact to yourself. 

sooha had gone quiet, just looked at you with those unreadable eyes, then shrugged. “cool.”

you'd laughed it off, feeling happy with your first genuine interaction with your roommate, and had passed out on your bed still in your jeans.

and then the next day, head heavy from the hangover and clothes sticking to your body, you found chris on your living room couch. 

kissing sooha. 

chris's eyes flicked to you for half a second— surprise, maybe guilt— before sooha pulled him back in deeper, choosing to ignore your presence. 

you'd slammed your door as you retreated back into your room, hangover soup or a shower be damned. after that day, your secret stayed buried, known only to you. 

that was the moment resentment took root. you told yourself that it was about loyalty. about boundaries. there was hatred, yes, but not just for her, although she carried the weight of it. 

but if you were honest, the ache burned brighter whenever you saw him. for her getting to taste what you'd only daydreamed about. for the casual way she'd claimed something you'd never even had the courage to reach for. 

at first, it was more than just the noise that annoyed you. it was the inconsideration, the timing, the way they never seemed to care if you were studying or trying to sleep. you complained about it endlessly, venting to seungmin, shoving headphones over your ears.

until one night, something shifted.

you were lying on your bed, laptop open, a movie playing that you had lost the plot to hours ago. and like clockwork, the sounds started again.

you waited for irritation to rise. for anger. for that familiar knot of resentment.

it didn’t come. 

instead, for once, the noises weren't loud enough.

you shifted, thighs pressing together almost automatically. the bedframe started its steady rhythm—slow at first, then building. you could hear the hitch in her breathing, the way it caught and released. but your mind wasn't on her anymore.

it was on him. always. 

your body moved without asking for permission, your cheek pressing against the door before you had even registered leaving the bed. there was a heat that didn’t belong, coiling low in your stomach. your thoughts turned traitor, slipping into places you hadn’t allowed them to go.

you hated it. you hated yourself for it. yet still, that didn’t stop you.

you fell to the ground as your hand slipped under the waistband of your shorts without thinking, without letting yourself think.

shame flared hot behind your eyes, but what was hotter was the way you imagined chris's hands, the same ones you'd seen gripping her waist that first day, sliding up your sides instead. his mouth on your neck, the plush lips giving you wet and sloppy kisses, marking you. his hips rolling into you with that same deliberate pace, making the frame knock just like that. the low groan you'd heard him make once or twice, rough and wrecked, vibrating through the wall and straight into your core.

your breath came shorter, fingers brushing over sensitive skin, already slick from nothing more than imagination and sound. it was humiliating how fast it built.

every thrust in the next room echoed in your head as if it were yours. suddenly his weight was pinning you down, fingers tangled in your hair, pulling just enough to make you gasp. “you enjoying this, huh?” he smirked, his voice making your core vibrate. he said your name, his lips touching your ears, his voice low, broken, and desperate.

you bit your lip to stay quiet, but a small whimper escaped anyway.

the rhythm picked up—faster, harder—and so did your hand, circling, pressing, chasing.

when you came, you let out a load moan, your body feeling limp and hot. 

you opened your eyes and you saw no one but yourself on the mirror in front of you, your arousal staining the floor and your nipples hard against your tshirt, shorts abandoned somewhere near your ankles. 

the emptiness of the room hit you like a shockwave; sharp, silent, shameful. you lay there afterward with heavy breaths, heart hammering, staring at the ceiling with wet fingers and burning cheeks.

you hated how good it felt.

you hated even more that you knew you'd do it again.

seungmin’s low laugh pulled you back to the present like a hand pulling you from under water.

you blinked, realizing you’d been staring at nothing—lost somewhere between the memory of that first humiliating night and the present, where your thighs were pressed so tightly together the muscle ached, your breathing shallow and uneven.

he was still sitting in the chair he’d dragged over, elbows on his knees, close enough that you could see the mole under his left eye, and the faint dusting of red on his cheeks and ears. 

“your breathing’s all fucked up, angel” he said quietly, no teasing this time. just observation. clinical, almost. “and your thighs—” his gaze dropped deliberately to where your legs were clamped shut, then flicked back up to your face. “—are clenched so hard i’m afraid of what i’ll see when i push them apart.”

heat flooded your cheeks so fast you felt dizzy.

you opened your mouth to deny it, to laugh it off, to say anything that would make this moment less real— but nothing came out.

seungmin didn’t look away.

instead, the corner of his mouth lifted, just a fraction, just enough to make your stomach flip in a way that had nothing to do with embarrassment.

“do you listen?” he asked, voice so soft it barely carried. “when chan fucks her. when he gets loud. do you… listen in?”

“i—” you tried to say, but all that came out was a breathy gasp as seungmin put his hands on either side of you, caging you between him and the mattress. his breath tickled your neck, and you shivered. 

you’d always known seungmin was attractive. objectively, of course (or that's what you told yourself). the kind of attractiveness that made people do double-takes in the café line. the kind that used to make you stare at his fingers when he strummed his guitar, and maybe lose your breath when sometimes he would engulf you in a hug and you felt his hard muscles press against your soft skin. 

but you never let those thoughts linger, no matter how hard that was for you, because losing him would gut you worse than any crush ever could.

you stared at him now— really stared— and saw the boy who’d held your hair back after too many shots, who’d stayed up until dawn helping you cram for midterms, who’d once driven across town at 2 a.m. because your voice cracked on the phone and you couldn’t say why.

but right now, with his face buried in your neck, pupils dark and steady, that careful boundary felt paper-thin.

“seungmin,” you whispered, hands clutching his arm to… push him away? but your hands stayed in place, involuntarily giving his arm a squeeze to ground yourself. 

on hearing your fragile voice, seungmin pulled back a bit, and your body instinctively arched forward at the absence of his warmth. 

he searched your eyes for a moment. “you’ve been disturbed by their noise for so fucking long.”  he said, voice just as low, “maybe it’s time you gave him a taste of his own medicine, angel.” 

your breath faltered at his proposition, the weight of what he was implying settling between you. but before the words could fully sink in, his mouth finally found the side of your neck.

a surprised, sharp gasp tore out of you. his lips were warm, soft at first, then firmer as he pressed an open-mouthed kiss just under your jaw. heat exploded under your skin like someone had struck a match. your hands flew to his shoulders—not pushing, just… holding on.

he pulled back again just enough to meet your eyes, a slight frown at your tense reactions. 

“hey,” he said, voice rougher yet somehow softer now. “this doesn’t have to change anything between us. this is just me… helping my best friend take some revenge.” his thumb brushed your cheek, gentle, even if his gaze burned. “if you don’t want this, any of it, tell me to stop. tell me and i’ll stop right now.”

your mouth was dry. your whole body felt like it was vibrating.

you searched his face, looking for the joke, the safety net, the signs of mirth on his face after he would prank you. it wasn’t there.

all you saw was him. waiting. wanting. 

but still giving you the power to end it.

but you were just a girl, with a stupidly attractive best friend whom you trusted more than yourself.

“don’t stop,” you whispered, your lips desperately reaching for his. you felt him smile against your lips as he finally kissed you, and he kissed like he had been wanting this for years. like he wasn’t just helping you get revenge. 

his mouth found your collarbone again, and the way he groaned gave you an inkling that maybe the times he had stared at your neck was not him just admiring your necklaces. suddenly, you felt something sharp—his hand pulled a fistful of your hair to gain better access— and you expected to feel pain at his rough actions, but instead, you let out the loudest moan. 

outside the room, you heard a thud, as if something had fallen. 

“that’s right, baby,” seungmin smirked, giving your hair another pull. “you’ve got to scream for me tonight, show him what he’s been missing,” 

seungmin’s hands were firm on your hips as he pushed you back onto the mattress, the springs dipping under your combined weight as he lay your head on the pillow. you landed with a soft bounce, breath catching, and before you could even process the shift, he was hovering over you, knees bracketing your thighs, one palm planted beside your head, caging you in without touching you anywhere you desperately wanted him to yet.

his eyes were dark, amused, predatory in a way you’d never seen directed at you before. the boy who used to steal your fries and fall asleep on your shoulder during movie marathons was gone— in his place was someone who looked like he’d been waiting to unravel you for longer than you’d ever suspected.

you tried to steady your breathing, tried to look at anything but at his face, only for your gaze to snag on the way his shirt stretched across his shoulders, the faint sheen of sweat already gathering at his throat.

then he moved.

he shifted to the side, reaching for your nightstand drawer with casual familiarity, like he’d done it a hundred times before. the drawer scraped open and your stomach dropped.

no. no fucking way. 

“you think i don’t know about this?” he pulled it out slowly—your slim, purple vibrator, the one you kept buried under chargers and old files like it was national secrets. the same one you’d used on those nights when chris’ low groans had pushed you over the edge faster than you cared to admit.

seungmin held it up between two fingers, turning it lazily so the light caught the smooth surface. then he looked back at you, smirking, looking triumphant. 

your face was already burning, but the heat that rushed through you now felt nuclear. you wanted to disappear into the mattress, wanted to snatch it from him. you wanted—fuck—you wanted him to keep looking at you like that.

“you’re not as slick as you think you are, angel” he murmured, voice low and velvet-smooth. his thumb flicked the base once—just once—and the toy buzzed to life for a split second before he clicked it off again. “i’ve heard it through the wall more times than i can count.”

your mouth fell open. no sound came out.

he leaned down until his lips brushed the shell of your ear. “every time you think you’re being quiet? every time you bite your pillow so hard and think i can’t hear?” he dragged the cool tip of the vibrator lightly down your chest, grazing your hard nipple over the thin tank top. you arched without meaning to. “i know exactly what you sound like when you come, baby. and i know you’ve thought about me fucking you just as much as you’ve thought about chan.”

a whimper slipped out before you could stop it. seungmin pulled back just enough to meet your eyes again. his smile was slow, filthy.

“such a little slut,” he said softly, almost tenderly. “getting off to the sound of your roommate getting railed. using this pathetic thing while you pretend it’s his cock instead.” he pressed the vibrator against your inner thigh—still off, just the promise of it making your skin crawl—and dragged it upward in a lazy line. 

“but tonight? tonight you’re gonna make noise for real. loud enough that chan can’t pretend he doesn’t hear. loud enough that he’ll lie there next to her wondering who’s making his sweet little neighbor sound like she’s being ruined.”

your thighs trembled. you couldn’t look away from him. “min…” 

he clicked the vibrator on—lowest setting—and settled it against the damp cotton of your shorts, directly over your swollen clit. the thin fabric dragged deliciously against you with every tiny buzz, giving the sweetest friction, but also the worst kind of tease, because it still kept him so far  away that your hips already ached to shove the barrier aside.

you gasped, sharp,and involuntary, and seungmin’s free hand shot up to cover your mouth, thumb pressing against your bottom lip.

“uh-uh,” he whispered. “not yet. save it. i want him to hear every fucking sound you make when i finally let you fall apart.”

he dragged the toy in slow, torturous circles, watching your face the entire time, watching the way your brows knit, the way your hips jerked despite yourself.

“tell me,” he said, voice rougher now. “tell me you want him to hear how wet you get for me. tell me you want him to get jealous.”

your head thrashed once against the pillow, the words stuck in your throat, thick with shame and need.

seungmin leaned in, lips grazing yours, just a tease. “say it,” he breathed. “or i stop.”

you swallowed. your voice came out wrecked, barely there. “i… i want him to hear.”

“hear what?”

“how wet you make me, min,” you cried out, desperate for more. “i want him to hear how wet i get for you.”

seungmin’s eyes flashed. “good girl.”

with one hand, he reached for his tie, and the sight of him taking it off was enough to make you cum. he caught your wrists in his hands, tying them with the satin fabric before turning the vibrator up a notch. 

and then he kissed you again, claiming, while his other hand shoved your shorts and panties aside just enough to press the toy directly against your bare skin.

the first real moan tore out of you before you could stop it. loud. unmistakable.

“that’s it baby, make him hear how much you enjoy being heard.” seungmin felt it. the way your hips jerked up against the vibrator. the way your thighs trembled around his knee. he chuckled.

“oh, you like that, don’t you,” he said, almost sweetly. “you like knowing he’s right there, hearing you fall apart for someone else.” he clicked the vibrator up one more setting. the buzz intensified, ripping a sharp gasp from your throat before you could swallow it down.

“louder,” he ordered, pressing the toy firmer, grinding it in tight circles that made your vision blur at the edges. “come on, show me how much of a whore you are.”

you whimpered, high and needy, and seungmin’s free hand slid up to cup your throat, not enough to hurt you, but enough to make you know who’s in control. 

“minnie… ah, seungmin, i’m so close,” you were surprised at your ability to form words, for all that was currently occupying your brain was seungmin, seungmin, seungmin. 

it was all to much, the buzz of the vibrator hitting your swollen clit, his hands around your throat and your inability to do anything. and worse of all? the way he was looking at you. 

“not yet,” he turned the vibrator off, throwing it aside. you cried out, your needy whimpers making him smirk. he removed your shorts and panties, and his eyes seemed hypnotised by the way your juices were spilling out, already making a wet spot on your bedsheet. 

“look at you,” he breathed, and for the first time that night, he was the one who looked speechless. 

in an instant, his mouth was on your cunt, his tongue making patterns on your wet walls that made you see stars. as if that weren’t enough, without warning he pushed his finger inside you, making you scream, fighting against the restraints your hands were tied in. 

“such a fucking slut,” he murmered, the vibrations of his voice against your skin making your hips jerk. “getting wet at the thought of him hearing you, aren’t you? picturing him on the other side of the wall while you leak all over my face like a desperate little whore.”

your breath hitched, and you felt fresh heat flood between your legs at the words. you wanted to deny it, to close your thighs, anything to hide how true it was, but your body betrayed you: another involuntary roll of your hips chasing the pressure, a tiny, broken sound slipping out before you could stop it.

he chuckled, dark and knowing, his free hand coming up to push your tank top aside and grip your breast, giving your nipple a firm squeeze. “yeah, there it is. listen to yourself. bet you’d come even harder if he knocked right now, didn’t you? if he walked in and saw what a pathetic, cock-hungry mess you turn into the second someone teases this slutty cunt.”

he inserted another finger inside you, and your back arched off the bed with a choked moan. your cheeks burned; shame and arousal twisted so tight in your stomach you could barely breathe. you shook your head weakly, no, no, that’s too much, you wanted to say, but your hips kept grinding, the sound of his digits pumping in and out of your slick folds filling the room. 

“tell me exactly what you want him to hear. go on, paint the picture for me, you desperate fucking whore. do you want him to hear you moaning my name? begging for cock like the needy bitch you are? or—” his voice dropped even lower, lips coming up to brush yours as he spoke, “—do you want him to hear you be ruined? scream it loud enough that he knows exactly what a dripping, shameless slut is in the other room?”

your hips bucked once, twice, chasing harder pressure you weren’t allowed to have yet. shame burned hot in your cheeks, your chest, but it only made you wetter, slicker, more frantic.

he felt it. of course he did. “don’t you dare hold back now,” he growled, nose brushing yours. “say it. tell me you want him to hear you come so hard the bed shakes. tell me you want him to know you’re getting off thinking about his cock while i play with your greedy little hole. use your fucking words, angel,”

your throat worked, lips trembling as another helpless roll of your hips grounded his fingers deeper against you. any remnant of denial was gone; only raw, humiliating need left.

“i… i want him to hear me come,” you whispered, voice cracking, barely above a breath. “fuck, min— i want him to hear how loud i get… how wet i get for you… how much i need… how much i need your cock inside me,”

your eyes fluttered shut for a second, mortified, but your body kept moving—small, desperate thrusts against his fingers like you couldn’t stop even if you tried.

he laughed softly, cruel and pleased, rewarding you with a rougher pace and another finger that ripped a choked moan from your throat.

“good girl. that’s my nasty fucking slut.” he murmured, lips grazing your ear again. “keep going. tell me you’d let him listen every night if i told you to. tell me you’d spread these legs wider just so he could hear how filthy you really are.”

“i… i would,” your breath came in short, ragged gasps now, thighs quivering, clit throbbing. you were shaking now, teetering right on the edge, humiliated and so unbearably turned on you could cry. “p-please seungmin, i’m so close,” you moaned, your voice hoarse from your screams. “please, let me cum,”

“you’ve deserved it baby,” he chuckled, his tongue finding your clit again. “cum for me, my filthy little angel,” he commanded, voice thick with  satisfaction as he sucked your clit between his lips, humming deep so the buzz traveled everywhere. “don’t you dare hold back. scream it—loud enough for him to hear every fucking second of how wrecked you get for me. let the whole damn apartment know what a desperate, dripping slut you turn into when i own this pussy.”

your body obeyed before your mind could catch up. the coil snapped hard, white-hot pleasure ripping through you in violent waves. your back arched off the bed, thighs clamping around his head as a raw, broken scream tore from your throat: his name, over and over, ragged and shameless, repeated like the only prayer you knew. “fuck—seungmin! yes—fuck! yes!”

each pulse of your orgasm milked more slick from you, coating his tongue, his chin, the sheets beneath. you shook uncontrollably, fingers twisting in the restraints, your thighs around his head pulling him closer even as overstimulation made you whimper. 

tears pricked your eyes from the intensity, cheeks burning with the fresh wave of humiliation—he’d made you loud, made you obvious, and god, it only made the aftershocks hit harder.

he didn’t let up right away, lapping lazily through the mess as you trembled, murmuring against your oversensitive flesh. “that’s it… good girl… screaming like the needy whore that you are.”

the aftershocks still rippled through you in slow, lingering waves. your body felt molten, legs splayed open, chest heaving, seungmin’s tie still circling your wrists, no longer tight, loosened by every restless movement you’d made. the sheets beneath you were a mess, damp and cooling where your release had soaked through. seungmin’s mouth was slick with you, chin glistening as he finally lifted his head, eyes dark and shining with satisfaction.

he crawled up your body slowly, deliberately, pressing soft, wet kisses along your stomach, your throat, the corner of your mouth. “fuck,” he breathed against your lips, voice wrecked and soft. “you sounded so pretty screaming my name like that. think the whole building heard.”

you managed a shaky laugh, half sob, too overwhelmed to form words. your clit still throbbed faintly from overstimulation, every tiny shift of your hips sending sparks up your spine.

seungmin kissed you properly then, letting you taste yourself on his tongue, with one hand tenderly caressing your cheek. when he pulled back, his thumb brushed over your swollen bottom lip.

“i’m gonna get you some water, okay?” he murmured, pressing one last kiss to your forehead. “and maybe clean you up a little before round two. don’t move.”

he slipped off the bed with that easy grace of his, and paused at the door, glancing back at you— spread out, flushed, wrecked— and his mouth curved into something dangerously sweet.

“stay right there, angel. i’ll be back in two minutes.”

the bedroom door clicked shut behind him, leaving you alone with your thoughts. as you forced yourself to take deep breaths, trying to calm down, you tried to process exactly what had transpired between the two of you.

you had never thought this day would come— you, cumming on seungmin’s tongue and him, promising you a round two — but somewhere deep in your heart, you also felt that this was a long time coming. 

he had told you at the beginning that things between you didn’t have to change after this, but after getting a taste of what you both could offer each other, you knew there was no going back, and you couldn’t deny the excitement curling in your chest as you looked toward this new stage of your relationship.

but no matter how much you tried, there was still something at the back of your mind, or rather someone—

you heard footsteps. but not seungmin’s light, familiar steps; they were heavier, slower. hesitant. 

and the breath caught in your chest as the door opened— and there stood chris. 

he looked… wrecked. hair mussed like he’d run his hands through it too many times, shirt sleeves pushed up to his elbows, forearms tense. his eyes, dark, pupils dilated, locked onto you immediately. they dragged down your body: the hickeys blooming on your neck and chest, the tie still loosely binding your wrists, your legs parted just enough that he could see the slick mess between them, the wet spot darkening the sheets. your brain told you to sit up, to cover yourself, but your body was too tired. and your heart? well…

chris didn’t speak at first, just swallowed hard, adam’s apple bobbing. his chest rose and fell like he’d sprinted here, as if he hadn’t just been sitting a few feet away, his ears picking up on every little whisper.

“i—” his voice came out rough, cracked. “i…  heard everything.”

the shame that should have crashed over you instead twisted into something hotter, sharper. your thighs trembled under his stare.

he took one step inside. then another. the door swung shut behind him with a soft click. he took a seat on the chair seungmin was occupying, not saying a word. 

“baby,” he breathed, his hands on the mattress, as if touching you was something he hadn’t earned yet. “you don’t know what you’re doing to me.”

you squirmed under his gaze, happy to finally see him look at you the way you had always wanted, but there was something stopping you from truly enjoying his stare, from telling him to come over and ruin you. 

“what about…?” your voice trembled, trying to make sense with whatever strength you had left in you. 

his smile almost wrecked you. “i broke up with her weeks ago. she asked me to come get a few of my things today, that’s why she went out,” he whispered, his voice vibrating through your whole body. “i couldn’t continue the relationship… how could i, when even when i’m with her, my mind always wandered to the room next door?”

“what?” you regretted not being friends with sooha, because then you could’ve known this vital piece of information ages ago. “but i thought… i thought it was you in her room yesterday… doing… y’know?” you blushed before you could complete the sentence, feeling shy despite the fact that you were literally lying naked in front of him and that he had probably heard you say worse things in the past hour. 

“did you see me?” he smirked as you shook your head no, getting up on the mattress, his face inching closer to yours with each words. “or did you hope… did you imagine it was me, each time you heard her get railed. or worse… did you imagine yourself in her place? did you imagine yourself getting fucked,” his breath tickled your cheek, so close yet too far apart. “by me?” 

up close, he smelled like clean sweat and something woodsy— his cologne, the one you’d caught whiffs of in passing for months. his eyes flickered to your bound wrists, then back to your face.

“seungmin tied you up?” his voice was low, strained. almost primal.

you nodded once, barely. chan’s hand hovered near your cheek, hesitant, then gently brushed a strand of damp hair from your forehead. the touch was so careful it made your chest ache.

“did he make you come like that?” he asked, thumb tracing the edge of one hickey. “screaming loud enough for me to hear every second?”

another small nod. your lips parted, but no sound came. he leaned down slowly, giving you every chance to turn away.

instead, your back arched, wanting him to be closer.

his mouth found yours, tentative at first, like he was testing if this was real. then deeper, hungrier, tongue sliding against yours with a groan that vibrated through your whole body. one hand cupped the back of your head; the other slid down your side, fingers digging into your hip like he needed to anchor himself.

when he broke the kiss, his forehead rested against yours, breathing ragged.

“i’ve wanted this,” he confessed, voice barely above a whisper. “every time i saw you on the couch, your bra strap fucking inviting me to snap it and hear you moan. i’ve wanted you ever since i saw you across campus, looking so damn angelic that you almost blinded me, doll. 

“i’ve wanted you every time you looked away… i wanted to pin you against the wall and make you finally fucking look at me. really look, without your eyes drifting away.”

his hand slipped lower, fingers brushing the soaked mess between your thighs. you jolted, oversensitive, but arched into it anyway.

“seungmin got you this wet, huh?” he murmured, almost awed, circling your clit once, gentle, testing. you whimpered. “i gotta thank him for this then,” he smirked. 

in a flash, he had rolled you over, pushing down on your head as he aligned your ass against his bulge. you shivered when your wet folds came in contact with the rough material of his jeans, and let out a loud moan as his hand landed on your cunt as a sharp slap.

“tell me to stop,” he said, echoing seungmin’s earlier words, but his voice was thicker, more desperate. “tell me, and i’ll leave right now, i promise.”

you met his eyes, dark, burning, pleading. “don’t stop, chan,” you whispered.

chan groaned at the way the nickname rolled out of your mouth, like the words had punched the air out of him.

he pushed his jeans and boxers down just enough, cock springing free, heavy, thick, already leaking at the tip. he fisted himself once, twice, eyes never leaving yours.

then he notched himself at your entrance, slow, careful despite the tremor in his arms.

you gasped as you felt his tip enter, already stretching you perfectly, the slight burn blending into pleasure so intense your toes curled.

“i’m gonna fill you up,” he rasped, pushing in inch by inch, your loud cries about him being too big, too much, falling on deaf ears. “gonna fuck you so good you forget anyone else ever touched you.”

with every firm thrust, you felt your bed frame thud against the wall, the sound of your fantasies coming alive making your head dizzy and your moans louder. 

“louder,” he growled against your ear, voice wrecked. “scream for me like you did for him. let kim seungmin hear it when he comes back. let him know who’s ruining you now.”

your hands, still tied up, found you clit, as you erratically touched your swollen bud. “fuck, yes, yes! you’re filling me up so good, channie, oh fuck.”

the rhythm chan had set was brutal, deep, punishing strokes driving fresh, broken cries from your throat. you were loud, deliberately so now, moaning his name like a chant, letting it echo through the thin walls, through the cracked bedroom door.

“fuck—channie, yes, right there—harder, please—”

your voice cracked on every syllable, your brained so hazed that you didn’t even realise it at first when the door opened again.

seungmin stepped inside, two water bottles dangling loosely from his fingers, a warm washcloth in his other hand. he stopped in the doorway, eyes sweeping the scene: you face-down, ass up, chan buried to the hilt behind you, one hand fisted in your hair to keep your back arched, the other gripping your hip hard enough to bruise.

as your face turned towards him, for one terrified heartbeat, you thought he would be angry, rightfully so, your brain chided you. you thought that the easy affection in his eyes would shatter, that he’d storm out, that everything would end here in shame and silence.

instead, Seungmin tilted his head.

a slow, lazy smirk curled his lips.

he leaned one shoulder against the doorframe, crossing his arms casually, like he’d walked in on you eating snacks instead of getting railed within an inch of your life.

“didn’t know you were such a greedy little slut, angel,” he drawled, voice soft and amused. “one cock wasn’t enough?”

something about the way he was looking at you, not like he was surprised, but rather entertained, broke you in the best possible way.

your cunt clenched hard around chan, visceral and involuntary, and chan groaned low in his throat, hips stuttering for a second. seungmin noticed too, the way your eyes rolled back and the fingers on your clit when slack for a moment.

“fuck— she just squeezed me so tight,” chan rasped, glancing over at seungmin without slowing down. “think she likes this more than we thought.”

seungmin’s gaze flicked to you once again, your flushed face, your trembling thighs, the way your mouth hung open around desperate little gasps, and then back to Chan. 

something wordless passed between them: a knowing look, a tiny nod, the kind of silent communication that only happens when two people have already decided the same thing long before walking into the room.

they weren’t surprised.

they weren’t jealous.

they were… prepared.

seungmin pushed off the doorframe and walked over slowly, setting the water bottles and cloth on the nightstand like this was just another tuesday. he stopped right in front of your face, fingers sliding under your chin to tilt your head up so you had to look at him while chan kept fucking into you from behind.

“look at you, such a desperate little cumslut,” seungmin murmured, almost sweetly. his fingers brushed your cheek, then trailed down to roughly squeeze your breasts, another hand came up to your mouth, thumb brushing over your swollen bottom lip. you whimpered around the pressure of his thumb slipping into your mouth. your tongue curled instinctively around it.

“greedy little whore. all tied up and drooling already. you really couldn’t wait two minutes for me to come back before you let hyung stuff you full, huh?” you whimpered—half apology, half plea—as chan drove in particularly deep, making your whole body jolt.

seungmin murmured, chan chuckled darkly, slapping your ass for good measure as he slowed his thrusts just enough to make you whine in frustration.

“she’s been loud,” he said conversationally, like he was discussing the weather. “kept moaning my name— channie this, channie that. thought you might want to hear it up close.”

seungmin’s fondly rolled his eyes as he smirked at chan, his eyes darkening with satisfaction.

“oh, i heard,” he said softly. “every filthy little sound.” he pulled his thumb free with a wet pop, smearing your own spit across your cheek. “but i think she can be louder, can’t you, baby?”

he unbuckled his belt with one hand while his other hand fisted the base of his cock, already hard again from watching you get wrecked. in an instant, his shirt was also discarded, falling somewhere beside your tank top that you didn’t even realise had been taken off in your haze. 

chan pulled out almost completely, leaving just the tip inside, making you sob at the sudden emptiness.

“open,” seungmin ordered.

your mouth fell open on instinct, tongue dipping out.

he slid in slowly, inch by inch, until your nose brushed his pelvis and your throat fluttered around him. you gagged softly, fresh tears springing to your eyes, but you didn’t pull away.

“good girl,” he praised, fisting your hair as he thrusted into your mouth in a rough shove. “take it all in.”

chan pushed back in at the same time, filling your cunt while seungmin fucked your mouth. the dual stretch, the rhythm, the way they moved in perfect tandem like they’d rehearsed this, sent your brain to complete, blissful ruin. no thoughts, no shame, only the primal need to be used, filled, and fucked stupid by both of them in perfect, cruel sync.

they talked over you like you weren’t even there, like you were just the perfect toy they’d finally decided to share.

“she’s so fucking tight,” chan groaned, hips snapping forward. “feel that? she’s clenching every time you bottom out in her throat.”

seungmin’s fingers tightened in your hair, guiding your head in shallow thrusts that matched chan’s pace.

“angel likes being used,” he murmured, almost tenderly. “look at her eyes, rolling back already. bet she’d come just from this. from being our fucking hole, made to be used only by us.”

your body agreed before your brain could catch up.

your cunt spasmed hard around chan, clit throbbing untouched now, and a muffled, desperate scream vibrated around seungmin’s cock as another orgasm ripped through you, sharp, blinding, humiliating in how easily they pulled it from you.

seungmin groaned at the feeling, hips jerking forward once, twice, before he pulled out just enough to let you gasp for air.

“again,” he said, feeling himself reach his limit. “come again while we’re both inside you. show hyung how greedy this pussy really is.”

chan’s hand cracked down on your ass, sharp and stinging, and you screamed again, louder, voice hoarse and wrecked.

they didn’t stop.

they just kept going, fucking you between them, filling every hole, praising and degrading you in the same breath, until you were nothing but trembling, overstimulated sensation and their names on your lips.

chan broke first, a low, guttural groan tore out of him as he buried himself deep and came hard, flooding your cunt with his thick cum. when he finally pulled out, his cum immediately seeped out, hot, obscene, trickling down your thighs, mixing with everything already leaking from you. he fisted his penis as more hot liquid flooded out, marking your back.

the sudden gush, the slick warmth coating your insides and dripping onto your back, snapped the last thread in you. you came again, violently, clenching around nothing, a choked sob ripping free as your whole body seized.

seungmin followed suit, and he gripped your jaw tighter, tilting your head back. 

“open wider, angel, don’t you dare waste it.” he fucked your mouth in short, punishing thrusts until he spilled down your throat, thick and bitter and endless. you struggled to swallow around him, gulping desperately while he milked every last drop, hips stuttering, voice wrecked. “that’s it… drink it all like the good girl you pretend to be.”

when he finally eased out, strings of spit and cum still connected your lips to his tip. he wrapped long fingers around your throat, watching with dark, possessive eyes as you swallowed hard, throat working visibly. then he pressed two fingers against your tongue, dragging it out flat.

dazed, wrecked, stupidly proud, you stuck your tongue out further, showing him the mess you’d taken, lips swollen and glossy, a dazed little smile curling the corners even as tears streaked your cheeks.

seungmin’s thumb brushed your lower lip almost tenderly. “fuck… look at you,” his voice was soft now, completely different from when he was calling you a greedy slut. “ruined and still so pretty.”

chan’s hand slid up your spine, slow and grounding, as he leaned down to press a surprisingly gentle kiss between your shoulder blades. 

both men drew back for a moment, giving you room to sink bonelessly onto the sheets, chest heaving in the sudden, fragile quiet. 

“yeah, just like that princess,” chan whispered, “deep breaths.”

seungmin climbed on the bed, laying down facing you, and he folded out his arm, inviting you. 

you giggled as you settled against his hard chest, and he engulfed you in a warm embrace, caressing your hair and trailing soft kisses over your cheeks. “you’re okay, right? did we go too far?” his eyes searched yours, concerned. you shook your head earnestly, caressing his cheek. 

“you did so good, princess,” chan whispered, hands massaging your ass, softening the red marks he had left. “so perfect for us.”

chan then reached for the washcloth seungmin had left on the nightstand and began cleaning you with careful, gentle strokes. the damp fabric glided over the sticky mess on your inner thighs, between your folds, wiping away the evidence of how thoroughly they’d used you. his touch was soft, almost worshipful, thumb occasionally brushing soothing circles over the sensitive skin as you hummed in satisfaction. 

after a moment, chan settled beside you on the bed, his larger frame curving protectively around your back while seungmin stayed pressed to your front, caging you gently between their warmth. chan’s hand found your arm, stroking slow and firm from shoulder to wrist, grounding you as your pulse still hammered beneath your skin.

you bit your lip hard enough to taste the faint copper of it. slowly, you eased out of seungmin’s loose embrace just enough to lift your head and meet both their eyes; first chan’s steady gaze, then seungmin’s softer, searching one. the question clawed its way up your throat, small and scared.

“are you guys… sure you’re okay with this?” your voice came out barely above a whisper, trembling on the edges. “that i might want you both just as much?”

you hadn’t realized you were holding your breath until their low, shared chuckle rumbled through you. 

“we want you, and want to take care of you princess,” chan said simply, no hesitation, a wave of understanding passing between him and seungmin. “both of us. and we’re not gonna make you choose. ever.”

seungmin hummed in agreement, nuzzling into your hair.

“your needs come first,” he added softly. “always. and if you want both of us, then that’s what you’ll get. no jealousy. no games. just us taking care of you.”

chan leaned in, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your lips, gentle this time, full of everything unspoken. When he pulled back, his eyes were soft, steady.

“we’re not going anywhere,” he promised. “you’re ours, and we’re yours. however you want us.”

and since then, the noises continued, only now you had zero complaints.

peach notes: lowk regretting the fact that kim seungmin was not inside her, but i felt too tired to write more lol. also, can you tell that i'm a fucking whore for the both of them? 😮‍💨 no lube no protection and allat. sorry if chan's part felt too rushed, lowkenuinely entered flow-state writing min's parts. (#need that) ( pls don't ask me abt if min went to freakin antartica to melt a glacier to get her the water lol, nothing about this is logical anyway, honestly i just needed them to fuck by that point, i'm just a girl ┐(˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)┌ ) and wdym there's more than a 100 (hundred!!?) of you here already!!1? thats insane, i could kiss u all. and i'm really overwhelmed by the love you've given me on my first post, truly thank you so much, i'm so grateful to each of you who reblogged and/or left a comment. pls feel free to drop by and send an ask to lmk your thoughts or literally anything, i would love to chat with you all <3 you'll see me next in march, unfortunately exam szn doesn't let me be horny 💔

masterlist.

[seochanhwang]

WIFE MATERIAL — 𝐎𝐓𝟖

📱 in which you've only been together for a month or two but a small act of service makes them want to drop on one knee.

warnings– nothing but men who are down bad for their girls <3

a/n– don't get used to the daily posts pls, I have a week off and got time on my hands rn :') | started a taglist so if you wanne be on it, feel free to ask!

masterlist

══════════════════════════════════════

방찬 — Bang Chan

이민호 — Lee Minho

서창빈 — Seo Changbin

황현진 — Hwang Hyunjin

한지성 — Han Jisung

이필릭스 — Lee Felix

김승민 — Kim Seungmin

양정인 — Yang Jeongin

══════════════════════════════════════

taglist: @velvetmoonlght

[havenhyunjin]

risky reader — stray kids

— you send a risky text to your boyfriend and the wrong stray kid has his phone to read it.

warning: nsfw themes!

☼☽⋆｡°✧ ✧⋆°｡☾☼

[leislibrary]

lazily riding stray kids

genre: smut!! minors will be hunted for sport contains: drabbles – you and each member desperately need each other but are so so tired :( wc: 4k (~ 500 each) ♡ note: a reupload. i'll say it until the end of time, but i'm incredibly, freakishly grateful for the love the original series received <3 divider by @lariesographic / my masterlist

CHAN

Any reasonable person would be sleeping at this hour. You were asleep before Chan woke you, visibility exhausted and desperate for relief. He climbs into bed and presses himself into your back, large hands reaching around to your inner thighs. “Please, pretty girl, just let me do something, anything,” he whispers against your skin.

He rarely says what he needs so plainly, even rarer that he’s willing to beg. You can’t deny him, especially not when he grazes his fingers over your clit just to hear you gasp. 

The room is dark, the only light flickering in from the moonlight and a bedside lamp he switched on. In his eyes, you’re glowing, always so perfect for him. Shadows dance across his chest as you move. 

He lets out a content sigh as you sink down onto him. “Fuck, baby,” he whispers almost inaudibly. He clenches his jaw, like he’s trying so hard to keep still. You pause once he’s fully inside, taking your time to adjust to his size. 

He props himself up on his elbows, unable to stop himself from staring at where he disappears inside of you. Slowly, experimentally, you roll your hips. His mouth falls open at the movement. A small amount of sweat already causes his biceps to glisten in the low light. You moan, and his eyes snap up to admire your blissed expression. 

You keep grinding, feeling him hit the perfect spot inside you, clit brushing against him with every motion. Fuck, he’s so good for you. You chase your high by speeding up ever so slightly. He grips your waist and sets a slower pace himself. “ - Gonna kill me,” he whimpers, “Not gonna last.”.

He can’t help himself - he thrusts once up into you, still moving your hips. You let out a choked moan, eyes squeezing shut. He can see how weak you are - sleepiness and pleasure finally overtaking you. He takes the opportunity to sit up and hold you against his chest. You never stop your motions. 

The new angle has his cock reaching deeper inside. He feels you squeeze tighter, and his head falls to your shoulder. He’s done for when you breathe his name like it’s the only thing you remember. He needs you to come with him, needs you to feel just as good as he is. 

He reaches between your thighs and rubs small circles on your clit. A few more delicious motions, and both of your highs hit you together. He lets out a final moan, lightly biting your skin in an attempt to be quiet, and you feel the familiar warmth inside you. You try to ride out your own pleasure, but falter, his name falling from your lips as his fingers stay on your clit. 

He keeps holding you against him, giving you both time to catch your breath. Eventually, he chuckles quietly and softly kisses your neck. “Thank you, baby,” he murmurs. He falls back with you into the mattress, whispering his praises until you fall asleep again.

MINHO

The entire world has faded to just you two in his hotel room. Minho’s sighs and flustered groans ring in sync with your heavenly grinds. His upper back is pressed against the headboard. It must be uncomfortable, but he doesn't seem to even know where he is right now. Usually he’s a lot more composed than this. Usually, he wouldn’t just let you climb on his lap, tease your tongue down his neck, whisper how good he’s being in his ear. However, his muscles are heavy after performing, and you looked so sweet asking, of course he gave in to you. 

The view of you is enough to draw out an unhurried smile that reveals his bunny teeth. His gleaming eyes search yours – intent on mentally cataloguing everything about this moment. That focus doesn’t last long. All it takes is one more small bounce, one more of your barely-contained gasps, and his head lolls backwards. His eyelids shutter halfway closed, but he never stops watching you. You’re squeezing around him perfectly, and you’re so warm in his arms, fuck, he can’t remember why you don’t do this more often. 

You’re beautiful like this. Moaning for him. Full of him. Giving everything to him, just as he gives everything to you. “C’mere,” he murmurs before pulling you further into his embrace. He kisses you, slow and sensual, absorbing your sounds as you keep rocking on him. His cock drags along your fluttering walls with every movement. Still working his lips against yours, he brings his hand down between your bodies to circle your clit in time with your grinds. As if reading the other’s mind, both of you speed up at once, chasing both your highs. 

Eventually, you have to pull away to breathe. “Minho,” you pant, gripping your nails into his shoulders, “Minho, feelsogood.” 

His cock twitches in you. His name, lovely and melodic, falling from your lips alone is almost enough to send him over the edge. Combined with your warm cunt pulling him in and the slight pain digging into his shoulders, he’s so close. He can tell you are too; your motions are starting to falter as heat builds inside you. His free hand holds your waist steady, helping guide you through the motions.

Another roll of your hips. Another gorgeous moan. “Baby, fuck,” is all the warning he can give. He groans your name, his grip tightens around you, and you feel the familiar warmth inside you. His orgasm triggers your own. Overwhelming pleasure washes over your body with Minho still circling your clit in an attempt to help work you through it. 

After a few seconds, the stimulation gets too much. He chuckles as you gently swat his hand away from your core. Still his lap, he straightens his positioning to get even closer to you. “Come back,” he whispers, connecting your lips again, holding you as you melt into him.

CHANGBIN

How could he ever resist his princess, laying in his bed like she knows she belongs there? 

You knew what he wanted the moment he crawled back beside you. He didn’t bother putting clothes back on after his post-gym shower. The scent of his body wash surrounds you, cozily tucked into the blankets. His damp hair is still slightly clinging to his skin. He leans in and gently kisses your shoulder. “G’morning,” he whispers against your skin. 

You kiss him in response. His groan is stifled in your mouth, but his arms wrap around your waist and easily shift you on top of him. You giggle at the sudden show of strength, matching his own smile at finally being able to feel you. He missed you so badly. 

He adjusts your hips slowly, giving you time to stop him if you want. You don’t. He moans as you sink down onto him, whispering “Fuck, princess,” into the cool air. “You don’t know what you do to me”. His head falls backwards onto the pillow. You take him so well. You pause, adjusting to his size, and his hands tighten on your hips, like he’s trying to contain himself. 

You sit up to straddle him and finally move, dragging your hips once back and forth. He bites back a gasp. God. He’s deep inside you now. You’re gorgeous on top of him. Even when you’re still sleepy, chasing your pleasure, you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. 

Underneath you, his muscles glow in the morning light. He’s heartbreakingly gentle with his touches, like he’s conscious of his own strength even like this. He almost loses it when you meet his eyes and smile back, so so perfect for him. 

Another roll of your hips. His cock slowly drags against your walls at your relaxed pace, and he’s no longer trying to hide his sounds. You speed up ever so slightly, chasing your own high. His eyes squeeze shut. Curses and pretty moans fall from his lips the more you keep going, the more you keep perfectly squeezing around him. 

You’re lost in him. Every motion brings you closer. He’s filling you perfectly, and your clit grazes him at every movement. You lean forward, anchoring your arms on his chest for support “Baby, fuck,” you breathe out, and his eyes snap open again to check on you. 

He groans at the sight - he can’t help it. You look wrecked for him. He’s not going to last. He needs you to come with him, fuck, he’s already holding back. 

You feel him start rubbing lazy circles on your clit in rhythm with your pace. Your choked cry is music to his ears. His other hand catches you when you slump forward, not able to support yourself anymore. “I know, princess,” he groans, voice as wrecked as you feel. “I know, I’ve got you.” 

Pressed against his chest, your release washes over you. He tries to keep rubbing your clit, his fingers faltering from the feeling of being squeezed tighter as yours continues. His own high hits him, and he moves his hand up to hold you as you feel the familiar warmth inside you. 

He doesn’t let go afterwards. You’re laying on him, wrapped in his arms, and he swears he’s in heaven. “Let’s just stay here,” he whispers, “for a little bit longer.” You nod against him. He has no intention of moving anytime soon. 

HYUNJIN

The only sounds in the room are your intertwined moans and the creak of the bedframe, matching the steady rhythm of your grinds against him. Sleepiness still lingers in the air, but right now, you each want to make the other feel good. “That’s my girl - fuck,” he moans from below you. Tiny amounts of sweat clings his hair to his skin. His hands grip your waist, not bruising, just guiding. “You feel so good - always s’good for me.” 

He fills you up so well. The angle has him hitting the perfect spot, and your clit brushes against him with every grind. Every movement brings you closer to your release. 

You roll your hips slowly, feeling every inch of him deep inside you. He sucks in a sharp breath. His grip on your waist tightens almost imperceptibly. A whine escapes his lips, eyes quickly darting to yours to check if you heard it. 

Of course you did. You smile back down at him and repeat the motion, enjoying the view of his head falling back as he stifles another whine. One hand drops from your waist to cling to the rumpled bedsheets, like he’s holding himself back. 

Another roll of your hips. His cock pushes further in, causing your knees to weaken from pleasure. You whimper, “Hyunjin, baby -” 

“I know, I’ve got you,” he breathes, and brings his hands up to support your weight. You let your body slump forward, leaning your arms against his chest as you try to keep your rhythm. His gaze lingers on your breasts, swaying as you move. 

Your pace falters more with each delicious grind, your high quickly approaching. He feels your walls clench around him and he knows you won’t last much longer. Neither will he. He needs you to come with him, but fuck, he’s already almost there. 

His eyes clench tight, one of his signs that he’s close. “Baby, please,” he begs, for nothing specifically and everything at once. He grabs your hand and guides it to your clit, choking on a sob as he watches you rub small circles in rhythm with your pace. 

Your orgasms overtake you at once. His name falls from your lips over and over, like a prayer, as waves of pleasure wash over you. He groans as he spills familiar warmth deep inside you. 

Afterwards, you lean forwards, laying on his chest. He runs a hand through your hair, pausing every so often to kiss the top of your forehead. He whispers, “I love you,” against your forehead. Eventually, the two of you drift off to sleep, still tangled in each other.

HAN

Everyone else is asleep. He should be quiet. He should stop moaning. However, he’s buried deep inside his pretty girl, and he wouldn’t notice if the world ended right now. You’re on his lap, kissing down his neck, driving him insane. He angles his head to give you more space, and moans even louder as you take advantage of it. 

You shift your weight, pushing him deeper inside you. Your head falls forward onto his shoulder. Everything about him - his scent, his touch, him - invades your senses. He’s brushing the perfect spot, and you’re not even moving yet. Like he’s reading your mind, he slightly squeezes your hips, his fingers digging into where they rest. 

His eyes are big behind his glasses. His chest rises and falls with how heavily he’s breathing. 

You rotate your hips, enjoying the view of his eyes rolling back into his skull. You moan in tandem - the sensation is too delicious for you to stop now. You repeat your motions. His high-pitched whine only spurs you forward, chasing the sensation of his cock hitting deep inside you again and again. His nails dig deeper into your skin. Already, the pain mixed with pleasure is almost too much. 

He’s not doing much better. Each time you moan his name brings him closer to the edge. He needs you to finish before him. He moves his hand to grip your inner thigh, thumb barely brushing your clit. He looks up at you, tears shining in his eyes. “Can I, please?” he breathes out. 

You nod so fast your vision slightly blurs. 

“thankyouthankyouthankyou” 

Then he’s pressing slightly harder, rubbing lazy circles while staring intently at where he’s connected to you. His glasses fall slightly down his nose. He doesn’t care. 

Fuck. Your movements get sloppier as the pleasure builds. His bedframe scrapes against the wall as you speed up. He’s incapable of forming words, just babbling half-sentences of praise. “Fuck, baby - so good for me - please - fucking please,” spills out. 

He can feel how close you are with how you clench around him. He just needs to hold on for a bit longer. He keeps rubbing your clit, and lifts himself up to kiss you. His lips work against yours, hoping he can convey his passion through it. 

Your orgasm hits you like a train. Your moans grow in volume as you try to ride it out. He never stops rubbing your clit. His own follows closely behind yours, spilling deep inside you. He breaks the kiss to repeat your name like a prayer.

You fall against his chest, both of you panting as you come down. His arms engulf you and squeeze you tighter against him. “Thank you,” he whispers against your cheek. Reluctantly, he moves you off his lap and ensures you’re comfortable laying against him. You two stay like that, holding each other, until you both drift off to sleep.

FELIX

His deep moans amplify the lust residing in the air. The only light comes from his long-forgotten PC, the abandoned login screen illuminating you two on his bed. Felix forgot the game exists. Right now, he’s just focused on trying to control himself as you roll your hips on top of him.  

You’re in his arms, making out with him, running your fingers through his long hair. You’re always so perfect for him. Always his ethereal angel. He’s already lost in you, and you’ve barely started. As you continue your slow movements, he breaks your kiss to brush a loose strand of hair out of your eyes, whispering, “so, so beautiful,” almost to himself. His cock twitches just from your resulting sweet smile.

You take your time, enjoying every inch of him. Your clit brushes against him with every movement. Your quiet moans are the prettiest sound he’s ever heard. He would stay here listening to you forever, if you let him. 

He’s vaguely aware he has a roommate on the other side of the wall, but that awareness is waning by the second. It’s gone completely when you speed up, chasing the feeling of him hitting deep inside you. He lets out a choked groan. His abs flex with restraint, like he’s holding himself back. 

Curses mixed with your name spill from his lips. One hand gently lands on your inner thigh, then travels over to your clit, rubbing small circles in rhythm with your motions. Your eyes squeeze shut, entirely focused on your building pleasure. 

“Look at me, angel,” his low voice breathes out. “Please.” Of course you do, and fuck, he looks divine. His freckled cheeks twinge pink. His long hair falls messily over his shoulders.  He holds your gaze and sighs, “That’s my girl.” 

You clench around him at the praise, and he swears he sees heaven for a moment. His head falls back into the pillow behind him as he keeps babbling, “Feels so good - always s’good - angel, fuck.” A few more motions, and you weaken from the sensations, leaning forward to steady yourself on his chest. Your combined moans fill the room. 

God, he’s so close, but he needs you to come with him. His fingers speed up on your clit, rubbing faster circles as he revels in your noises. Your highs hit together. He moans even deeper as you feel the familiar warmth inside you. Your hips falter on him as you try to ride out your waves of pleasure. He works you through it, still babbling out his love for you. 

Afterwards, he wraps his arms around you once more, pressing you into his bare chest. “Thank you, angel,” he whispers into your hair. He holds you against him, wrapped up in his sheets and each other, until you both drift off to sleep.

SEUNGMIN

Seungmin could not care less about the rest of his members going about their nightly routines outside his door. Why would he, when you’re in his arms, making out with him, slowly rolling your hips like you have all the time in the world. You do, as far as he’s concerned. He never rushes with you if he can help it. 

Your hands are laced in his hair, absentmindedly twirling some longer strands between your fingers. He moans at the sensation every so often. Right now, he would do anything if it meant you would stay in his bed, making him feel so good he’s about to start seeing stars. Your lips are so soft against his, and he’s fitting wonderfully inside you - squeezing like you are perfectly made for him. 

You pause your movements for a moment, and he actually whines. He pulls away from the kiss to steady his breathing. His efforts are futile - his breaths quickening again when you sit up, him still inside you, and graze your fingers over his chest. The new angle is pushing him in deeper than he was before. He moans your name and leans his head back into the pillows beneath him. 

You resume your motions, feeling every inch of his cock hitting deep inside you. He genuinely might lose it from the sight alone. His hands rub up and down on your thighs, trying to feel as much of you as possible. He can’t help himself - moaned snippets of praise spill out of his mouth faster than he can register his own words. “Fuck, baby - so good - oh my god - you’re beautiful,” is just part of what you’re able to catch. 

Your clit brushes against him with every grind. The sensation is delicious, paired with Seungmin’s whimpering voice and him staring up at you like you’re a goddess, you’re not going to last. He’s not either - he’s babbling more with each passing second. From below you, he stares up, suddenly looking more desperate. “Tell me you’re mine,” he whispers, and thrusts lightly up into you. 

You weaken from it, leaning forward onto him. He takes advantage of the position to kiss you again. “I’m yours,” you whisper against his lips. 

That does it. His head falls forward into your shoulder, whining softly again, as you feel the familiar warmth inside you. Your own orgasm follows quickly afterwards, pleasure washing over you, your pace faltering as you try to ride it out. 

For a few moments, neither of you move. He rubs small circles on your back as he attempts to recover from the slight overstimulation. Eventually, you begin to get off him, only to be met with him lightly grabbing you, keeping you in place. “Don’t,” he murmurs, “please.”

JEONGIN

He’s most beautiful in the quiet moments. He’s ethereal always, but there’s something about the unguarded version of Jeongin, with messy hair, easy smiles, and holding you close like he can’t fathom ever letting you slip away, that always gets you needing more. Outside, the low hum of others in the same space filters through the bottom of his door, but they might as well be lightyears away for all the attention Jeongin pays them. It’s easy to forget that anyone else exists. It’s easy to revel in each other, barriers shed, until every stress, every thought vanishes. 

You pull away from the kiss first, Jeongin’s eyes still closed and moving to follow after you, a line of spit that should be much more obscene than it actually is connecting the two of you. “Can’t wait anymore,” he murmurs, eyes still closed. “Please,” he adds, “just want you.” Underneath you, his flannel pajama bottoms tent seemingly painfully. You’re not doing much better. 

“Anything for you,” you breathe, intended as teasing, but it comes out more like an admission. Regardless, it has the desired effect, a strangled groan leaving him as he shimmies out of his clothes with record-breaking speed. 

Your moans intertwine as you sink down onto him. You’ve done this countless times, and will be in this position countless more, but you don’t think you’ll ever get used to the delicious pressure in the first few seconds. He knows this, too, if his barely-contained smug expression is anything to go by. It vanishes when you roll your hips, feeling his cock deep inside you. His forehead falls forward onto your shoulder, his hair tickles your collarbone. His glasses slip down the bridge of his nose. 

“Fuck,” he groans into your skin, “you’re so good at that.” As if to accentuate his point, he can’t contain a sharp inhale as your movements speed up. 

Like mirror images of each other, the cockiness on your face is wiped away as his fingers find your clit to rub small circles in sync with your grinds. Raising his head again, his gleaming eyes search yours, soaking in your pleasure as much as he can. He can’t help himself; he thrusts up once, smiling again at your gasp. He pulls you in to kiss you again, lips working against yours, only broken by the moans escaping both of you. 

Your movements falter the more your pleasure builds. Jeongin notices. Of course he does – he notices everything about you. His fingernails dig into where they rest on your hip, surely leaving crescents to discover in the morning, and without breaking rhythm, he takes over setting the pace himself. 

It doesn’t take long with Jeongin fitting perfectly inside you, his fingers circling your clit, his lips heated against yours. Your release washes over you with a cry of his name. He keeps moving you, keeps touching you, to help you ride it out. A few more motions, and he follows, your name falling from his lips. 

A few moments pass. He holds you pressed against his chest as you both catch your breath, Eventually, you move to get off him, but his grip only tightens, burying his face into the crook of your neck. “Stay here with me,” he whispers.

skz taglist: @emilyywhyy @velvetmoonlght @opiumfidgetspinner @bahngarang @pixie-felix @certainstarfishmiracle @luvvvivi @strhwa @ayedomino008 @breakmeoff @foppishitudinality @ilovedallywinston @cookiewookie9t @astrayapple @teffyx @geni-627 @kpopgirliez @flwrkissed @imnotsupposedtobedoingthis lmk if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist!

[ihaveamassivegun]

DEAR Y/N: SORRY WE TRIED TO KILL YOU

pairing: serial killers!ot8!skz x fem!reader

genre: crackfic, dark comedy, dark romance, thriller

summary: hyunjin invites you over to hang out with him and his friends. they try to kill you. you survive! aaaand now they’re obsessed with you.

warnings: non idol au, attempted murder of protagonist(reader), violence, blood, stalking, obsessive behavior, mentions of death/murder/dismemberment/(implied)rape(it’s just in a conversation, it didn’t happen to anyone in the fic!!), cursing, homicidal behavior/psychopathy, dumb han and felix, people die, the love interests(skz) are the problem, nobody here is okay, english is obvi not my first language

word count: 13k

you almost got murdered.

by eight gorgeous men.

yea, y/n. you got yourself into that situation. but how?

you were walking home once, minding your own business, chewing on some thought. could have been anything. from dinner to what you need to do tomorrow, let’s not act like it matters. none of these little details matter, what does, is that a man was walking towards you. (an: guys i’ll clarify it now that it’s hyunjin. i just hate when fanfics try to describe looks when we don’t know names yet)

the man passed you. smelled great. nothing more.

“is this yours?”

that was him. his voice. he talked to you.

you stopped then and turned around. he was also standing still, looking at you. holding a single airpod.

no. it was not yours. at all. not your airpod.

“shit. yes, it is.” you smiled. a hundred percent aware that the single airpod was not yours.

hyunjin smiled, relieved in a way that suggested he had not planned beyond step one: talk to pretty girl. he asked your name. you asked his. he pretended he wasn’t internally rehearsing how to introduce you to the worst decision of your life.

and that’s exactly how you got yourself into the situation before your getting murdered one, where you kept seeing hyunjin, never really revealing that the airpod was not yours. you didn’t want to, he was just so cute.

and also a serial killer, not like you knew that though.

hyunjin was always the best with the women. or with the people in general. the other seven guys were… doing alright with them, sure, some better and some worse, but hyunjin always got what he wanted. he was the one collecting the people, another person to kill.

which did not happen to you, duh it’s in the first line, but how? how, when the eight of them, eight little nobodies who only got through life because of each other, are so good at killing? how, when it’s the main thing that bonds them together and gives them their sick little dosage of joy? how, when that’s the thing they can do best? how, when they’re fit? lucky? hot?

yea i’ll just stop with all the questions. i’m boutta explain, obvi.

so. you two started meeting up. you not telling him that the airpod wasn’t yours, him not telling you he was planning on sliming you out.

once, he invited you out. you two have been out hundreds and thousands of times(like five times), so it didn’t seem like anything out of the ordinary to you. not a date, he said hang out. his place. “a few friends might be there” he added. you went. fucking idiot.

the place was so fucking cool. big. looked good. kinda place where you immediately lost cell service and your sense of direction.

“that’s just the guys.” hyunjin had also said when you two got there, gesturing inside.

you met them all in under three minutes, which was about two minutes too many. chan was a gentleman. he smiled. he shook your hand. he had huge arms and was gorgeous.

minho and seungmin both looked like they hated you. looked you up and down. acted like bitches. acted like they didn’t understand what you wanted when you said hi and introduced yourself. acted like you were beneath them. hm.

changbin saved the moment by immediately knocking over a chair and laughing at himself. he was sweet. he asked you if you wanted a drink. that was nice, because he meant that. he wanted to get you something to drink, even if he wanted to kill you after. wanting to absolutely murder you wasn’t personal, so he wasn’t going to make it personal.

felix and unfortunately han, two sunshine or whatever you heard the guys say about them(why were there two?) were sweet, but dumb. han tried to shake your hand and missed. felix complimented your shoes and then apologized to the floor.

jeongin bowed. he asked if you were real. he told chan you were out of his league. chan was about to smash his head into a wall. he seemed intelligent though, a little playful, a little flirty. sweet guy. (also a fucking psychopath y/n run run RUN)

through all of it, hyunjin, the liar, the asshole, stayed near you. calm. watching. soooo fucking hot, man. everyone else was loud or mean or deeply stupid, but hyunjin looked at you like he didn’t quite know what to do with you.

which was funny, because the rest of them clearly knew exactly what they wanted to do with you.

they were bad at hiding it. terrible, actually. chan kept whispering. minho and seungmin stared too long. felix dropped something sharp and went “oops”. jeongin asked, loudly, if you were good at running, then immediately said he meant marathons.

you thought they were weird. intense. hot, unfortunately. you had no idea you were being sized up.

so. like two hours into the hang out. you didn’t have your phone with you, it was in the living room somewhere. you were in the kitchen with hyunjin, leaning against a counter, listening to him explain, calmly, something about the cabinets.

“uhuh.” you said, opening three drawers and finding nothing but knives. so many knives. “oouukay.”

from the living room, something heavy scraped across the floor.

“alright.” chan’s voice came. “enough foreplay.”

you frowned, no idea what he was referring to. yet. “that’s a weird thing to say out loud.”

hyunjin hummed. then seungmin appeared in the doorway, posture lazy, swaying a lil, with a fire poker in his hand. i repeat, fire poker.

you had just enough time to think oh that’s new, before he swung. clean. aimed at your head.

you ducked on instinct. the poker smashed into the cabinet behind you, splintering wood, sending a drawer of knives exploding onto the floor.

everyone froze for half a second.

“jesus.” changbin said from somewhere nearby. “we just fixed that.”

you stared at seungmin. he stared back. you two stared at each other for a while.

“…huh.” you said. “okay.”

then you ran.

the boys just… got into it immediately. switched. getting up. listening to your footsteps. laughing. jeongin whooped. they all obviously had done this before. they were so boyish, all of them. and so fucking evil.

you ran down a hallway, heart slamming in your ribs. a door on your left? locked. on your right, open.

you ran into a study and immediately regretted it. felix was there, sitting on a desk, holding a crossbow. WHERE. DID. HE. GET. THAT. FROM.

“oh!” he said, genuinely delighted. “hey.”

“move.” you said.

he winced sympathetically. “can’t.”

the shit that he shot out of the bow that i don’t know the name of thunked into the wall beside your head. close enough that you felt the vibration in the air, from the ground.

“fuck you.” you said, accepting it surprisingly quick that you were getting hunted down.

you burst back into the hall and nearly collided with changbin. he caught you by the shoulders automatically(so like without thinking about it), steadying you.

“okay.” he said, quick and quiet. “left stair’s blocked. right one buys you maybe twenty seconds.”

“why are you telling me?” you panted.

he shrugged. “i like you.”

then he leaned down, pressed a quick kiss into your hair, oh, and shoved you forward by the middle of your back.

“go. before i change my mind.”

you went.

behind you, he called out cheerfully: “she went right!”

“YOU FUCKING LIAR.” minho yelled.

you ran up the stairs two at a time. at the top when you turned, han was waiting, holding a bat.

“oh shit.” he said. “hi.”

you grabbed the bat midswing, yanked it free, and cracked him across the shin. you fucking rock y/n.

he screamed, fell over, yelled “timeout! timeout!”

you ditched the bat(DUMB bitch) and ran into what looked like a… whatever room. it was big, pretty big, too open, too much of a bad choice.

chan stepped into your path. was this bitch there the whole time? no, he couldn’t be. could he?

“easy.” he said, hands up. calm. annoyingly handsome... “you’re safe for—”

you threw a chair at his head.

he caught it.

you spun, only to find minho closing in. you kicked him in the knee, hard. he lunged. you ducked, grabbed a chair again and swung blindly. the thing is, you were extremely weak tho. the chair could have been a fucking pillow at this point, because he just stepped away from it. and you… kinda went with the chair. but you stood up! luckily.

they loved this, they loved the way you fought, the way you adapted. it was cute, girly how you didn’t scream, just swore and moved and made it harder than it was supposed to be because they know their shit in this field. it made them better, sharper, more playful.

you ran out the door you came in thru and shut it behind you, jamming a heavy table against it. the boys could have prevented that, they just didn’t. you were way too fun, and they knew that you were getting tired. they knew they were going to win this. again.

you waited a bit.

the door shuddered. once. twice.

then stopped.

silence.

your stomach dropped. that was never good.

“okay.” hyunjin’s calm voice came, suddenly close, from behind you.

you spun.

for a bit, you just stared at each other.

“yeah. so. the airpod?” you said breathlessly.

he winced. “yeah.”

“figures. sorry for lying about it.”

“it’s fine. i lied too.” he stepped aside, gesturing toward a side door. gentlemanly. “run. i’ll count to five.”

“why?”

he smiled, beautiful. “because it’s more fun when you almost make it.”

you didn’t wait for five. you ran again, heart in your throat.

“YOU’RE DOING GREAT!” felix shouted when he saw you run past him. “I MEAN—STOP!”

yeah. pfftt.

the house stopped making sense after a while. corridors doubled back on themselves, which was fucking brutal. there were rooms you swore you’d already crossed. you ducked into a side room and slammed the door, immediately realizing, too late, that it didn’t lock.

“fuck.” you whispered, hands on your knees, trying to quiet your breathing. and you listened. footsteps walked past. someone laughed, a really… loud laugh. jeongin’s voice echoed from somewhere far off. you could hear how unserious his voice was, talking bout sum “she’s still upright, folks, which is honestly impressive” genuinely just making fun of the situation.

“keys.” you muttered. “i need keys.” because you clearly remembered hyunjin closing the front door after you.

from behind the curtain came a soft, confused, very close: “…huh.”

you froze.

the curtain moved. it was han, holding a knife and a flashlight upside down, blinking at you.

“oh. hi.”

third hi he said tonight. hi to you too, han.

you stared at each other.

“uh.” he said.

“yeah.” you replied.

a beat passed.

another.

he frowned at the flashlight, turned it the right way up, blinded himself, and yelped.

“sorry.” he said, rubbing his eyes. “didn’t mean to corner you.” serial killer btw.

“you did. that’s literally what you did.”

“right.” he nodded. “yeah. so. i’m supposed to, uh—” he made a weak stabbing motion with his hand that held the knife. missed entirely. “—do the thing.”

you glanced at the knife in his hand. them at him. then back at the knife. “you don’t look super confident about that.”

he shrugged. “i get nervous.” he hesitated. then leaned in and whispered: “hyunjin gave his keys to chan, i saw it.”

“…thaaanks.”

he smiled, shy. “okay.” he said, stepping aside. “i’m gonna count to… uh… what’s fair?”

“ten.”

he nodded seriously. “ten.”

you bolted.

“ONE—THREE—WAIT—”

you ran out. didn’t get far though, you heard too many noises, so you did what made sense at the moment. hide again. and you did hide again, at least tried, you were soon interrupted by seeing felix, who was crouched behind a couch, chewing on a cereal bar.

he looked up mid bite. “oh. hello again.”

“move. again.” you said.

he scooted instantly. “yep.”

you walked past. paused. looked back. “why are you hiding?”

he swallowed. “i forgot what the plan was.”

“oh. i’m sorry.”

“it’s alright.”

from the hallway, heavy footsteps. chan, probably. he walks confident. you can just… hear his walk. he walks like it’s heavy, grr. felix heard it too, grimaced.

“he’s gonna be mad. he hates when i lose track.” felix whispered.

you looked at felix. then at the hallway. then back at felix. “you’re fine. it’s not your fault. i think so, at least.” you looked around. “he just feels like the fucking star of the show, having the keys and all that”

felix’s eyes lit up. “oh! yeah, he’s got those.”

boom. that was your plan. sneak the keys into the conversation. get to know about it. you’ll be out of there in no time, y/n.

you looked back at him. “can you distract him?”

felix thought for a second, then shook his pretty head enthusiastically. “absolutely not.”

“…fair.”

he stood anyway, shook himself together kinda, and ran into the hallway yelling “HEY BRO I THINK SHE WENT—”

you didn’t hear the rest, you ran. climbed stairs, ducked under a railing(just being extra for no reason pfffft), slipped through a door that led into a laundry room, and locked it. the blessed, beautiful click of a lock nearly made you cry. then you crouched between machines, shaking, trying not to laugh or scream or do both.

minutes passed. nothing. then, a knock. polite. gentle.

you stared at the door.

hyunjin’s voice, calm and exactly what made you like him. “i’m not coming in.”

“yeah? promise?”

“cross my heart.”

“don’t have one.” jeongin added from somewhere farther back.

hyunjin sighed.

the fact that jeongin heard you talk and didn’t go to the laundry room says a lot about them though. tells you that they’re doing this for fun, that they’re not in a hurry at all.

you edged closer to the door, careful. “i need the keys.”

“i know.”

“give them to me.”

a pause. you imagined him leaning against the wall, hands in pockets, watching the floor. “you almost deserve them.” he said. “that’s the problem.” from down the hall came a crash, followed by changbin yelling. hyunjin continued anyway, softer now. “if you get them, though… you’re really leaving.”

“yes.”

“shame.”

fucking manipulator. that’s what he is. “you’re really leaving” oh boo fucking hoo. sappy asshole. not one sincere bone in his beautiful body. he said this cringe shit on purpose.

the doorknob jiggled once.

“five minutes.” he said. “that’s what I can give you.”

then footsteps retreated. you sagged against the dryer, adrenaline basically ripping your muscles, like ripping. we all know the feeling. anyways, five minutes. okay. you had to get out for sure, otherwise you would be so dead. so, next, run. you were going to run. open the door and… go… some… way. anyways, that’s what you did after about one minute of sitting on the floor and thinking about how will you do that. you got out, and didn’t stop running so much as you failed forward into the next hallway.

somewhere behind you, han shouted your name wrong, twice, then tripped over absolutely nothing and went down with a sound that sounded like multiple things falling with him.

“FUCK. i’m okay! I’M OKAY.”

you risked a glance back just in time to see him scramble up, only to immediately collide with minho, who had come around the corner too fast. they hit the wall together, tangled, swearing.

you burst through a door and nearly slammed straight into seungmin. both of you froze. like actually froze. inches apart. his breath was loud. yours was worse. he stared at you. you stared at him. his grip tightened on whatever sharp thing he had in his hand.

“…hi.” you said.

“sup.” he said. “you’re shorter up close.”

“fuck you.”

“later.” easily.

you looked at him, furrowing your pretty brows.

he glanced down at the knife in his hand, then back up at you. “this is awkward.”

“yeah.”

he tilted his head. “you okay?”

“no.”

“hm.”

there was a beat where neither of you moved. somewhere far away, something crashed, probably han.

seungmin tilted his head. “you gonna run, or are we doing this weird staring thing?”

you lunged left.

he lunged right.

you both smacked into the same doorframe and recoiled in pain.

“fuck.” you mumbled, rubbing your pretty head.

“shit, okay, that one’s on me.” he admitted, rubbing his shoulder. his pretty shoulder. that sweater looked good on him, by the way. yeah. hm. really good. but that didn’t fucking matter when he lunged again.

you screamed, slipped on a rug, and fell, only for minho to come in from the side and tackle seungmin directly into a glass table. the table shattered.

you stared.

they stared back.

“…go.” seungmin shook his head, waving you off.

you did not need to be told twice. behind you, minho yelled smth like “WHY ARE YOU LETTING HER GO?”

a crash. a thud.

then seungmin, very calmly: “because you’re pissing me off.”

you ran straight into han and felix arguing at the end of the hall.

“i said left.” han insisted, holding a crowbar upside down.

“you always say left.” felix argued, holding a taser and clearly forgetting how it worked.

you skidded to a stop.

all three of you froze.

you were panting. “can you both—”

felix lunged. han lunged. they lunged into each other. they crashed, arms everywhere, legs everywhere, clothes everywhere, the smell of men everywhere, tangled up, the taser going off uselessly into the air.

“STOP STABBING MY JACKET.” felix yelled.

“I THOUGHT YOU WERE HER.” han yelled back.

you stepped over them. “thank you.” you said sincerely, and ran.

you rounded a corner and slammed straight into chan, full chest to chest. you both stumbled back a step. he held you automatically, hands on your arms. you stared up at him. he stared down at you.

he almost smiled.

then han came sprinting in, tripped over nothing again, and took chan out at the knees.

“OH MY GOD I’M SO SORRY.” han yelled, tangled in chan’s limbs. “I DIDN’T SEE YOU.”

seungmin and minho found you again. jeongin leaned on a wall, wiping dust off his knees. han just got up and felix came in late, and they tripped over each other again. chan just sighed at this point.

you backed toward the door, hands up.

then while getting up, felix slipped. took han down with him. again. they crashed into minho, who slammed into seungmin.

jeongin smiled. “DOMINOES!”

that was your chance to do something. something to even just slow these guys down, anything, bro. so, you did. when chan stood up finally, you lunged for him.

but like… that asshole just laughed in your face and twisted away easily, shoving you past him. “go.” he said. “you’re warmer when you keep moving.”

weirdo. but you ran again anyway, down a side corridor, thru a door and immediately ate shit. your foot caught on something, and you slid, palms burning, your pretty little skin they want to cut so bad just gone like that.

behind you, there was a collective “OOHHHH.”

you rolled your eyes. sighed. thought about just lying there because they would probably still miss even if you were completely still. you decided maybe not. so you scrambled up and ran again, swearing, adrenaline making everything feel fucking crazy. unreal. is this really happening?

you didn’t know how long you ran, time stopped somewhere around the third near death experience.

you went downstairs and upstairs and downstairs again, back and forth, hoping to find something that could save your life. when you were back at the stairs for the seventh time that night, you took the stairs three at a time, only to find han at the top, again, wheezing, holding a knife backwards.

“WAIT.” he said. “hold on—euh—my lung—”

you ran past him.

he tripped over his own foot and tumbled down the stairs alone, screaming “I’M FINE—I’M NOT FINE—TELL MY MOM—”

you didn’t look back. you burst into a bedroom and slammed the door, locking it just as something heavy hit the other side.

silence.

your chest heaved. sweat slicked your now skinless palms. you pressed your back to the door and slid down until you were sitting on the floor, brain finally catching up enough to think.

okay. door. big house. front door has keys. keys are on someone. they told you it’s at chan but he could have gave it to anyone since that.

that was bad.

you stood, looking through the room. window. too high. bathroom. connected. closet. tiny but usable. fuck yes. you hid in the closet just as the door opened.

footsteps. slow, manly. so confident in himself.

“you know, i really thought we had something.” jeongin. sweet. acting, obviously.

you clapped a hand over your mouth.

he paced the room, dragging something metal lightly along furniture. an axe, maybe.

“like, don’t get me wrong. i love the chase. big fan. but the eye contact earlier? intimate.”

you heard him stop in front of the closet.

“…you in there?”

you didn’t move.

he sighed. then, dropped to his knees. you could see him through the slats now, sprawled on the floor.

“y/n.”

you could hear your breathing. you could also hear his. which meant…

“come out.”

…he could hear yours too.

okay. fuck. your only option was to make a run for it. so, after taking a biiiiig big breath, you burst out of the closet and kicked him in the shoulder. was it successful? was it a good kick? who knows. it knocked him down, that’s what matters, but it was a pretty lame kick after all. he only went down because he wanted to, not because you actually kicked him good.

anyways, you ran again. out the room. then immediately skidded to a stop when seungmin opened a door in front of you.

he stepped aside immediately. “after you.” he said, gesturing inside.

you stared at him.

he stared back.

you could hear hyunjin make a noise, talking with changbin.

seungmin raised his brows. “i insist.”

he knew that you needed an escape route and this was your only option. you knew he knew.

you sighed. ran through it, and it slammed shut behind you. you could hear a snicker(his voice), then silence. maybe he left. maybe not.

the room you were in was darker. storage. boxes. is this place even owned by these guys? or do they just come here to… play?

you hid behind a shelf, crouching, heart in your ears.

okay. think.

front door. locked. too obvious. you needed keys. you needed a person.

but they were playing. this wasn’t about killing you quickly, it was about the fun. about testing themselves. about proving, again, that they were smarter, faster, better. the teamwork thrilled them, having prey thrilled them.

footsteps approached.

door opened. han stepped into the room, tripped, and fell into a stack of boxes. why always this guy?

“oh COME ON.” he groaned. “i wasn’t even chasing her!”

neither of you moved.

“…you okay?” you asked.

“yeah.” he said, looking up, nose bleeding. “yeah. you?”

“living the dream.”

he nodded. then, very gently, he pointed back towards the door. “they’re coming.” he whispered.

in the doorway, felix appeared, pointing at han. “dude. again?”

you took the chance and got out of your hiding place, quick, and bolted past them both.

felix gasped. “oh shit—sorry—sorry—”

han tried to follow, slipped again, and yelled: “WAIT FOR ME!”

a crash. a curse. someone else falling over him.

you ran down the hall toward what you hoped was the front of the house. behind you, shouting, laughter, whooping, bodies colliding, someone yelling “WHO LEFT THIS CHAIR HERE?” you rounded a corner and skidded to a stop in front of the front door. you tried the door. locked. you didn’t know where the keys are. your chest tightened. behind you, footsteps slowed. confident. chan, seungmin, minho, jeongin, closing in.

you turned around. the wall met your back hard enough to knock the air out of you.

“okay.” you said, breathless, girly, the prey they wanted you to be. “okay. this is—yeah. alright.”

the other four found you too. felix, panting. han, limping. hyunjin and changbin obviously not affected because they didn’t really take part of the chase. blocking off every possible exit.

chan didn’t take his eyes off you. “everyone good?” he asked, calm. so fucking calm. knowing he won.

“peachy.” jeongin said.

“bit winded.” felix added. “but spiritually fulfilled.”

changbin gave you an apologetic little wave. “sorry.”

then seungmin lunged.

you fought, harder than they expected, apparently, elbowing, kicking, swearing. but they were sure now, hands grabbing wrists, legs hooking yours, pressure applied. you went down. not slammed, though. controlled. that fucking pissed you off more.

seungmin had your arms pinned. minho had a knee on your thigh. chan crouched in front of you, looking down at your pretty face.

the second you were fully restrained, jeongin shrieked. “oh my GOD we got her!”

he leapt into felix’s arms. felix caught him, squealing back.

“we did it!” felix yelled.

they spun once. almost fell. han clapped wildly and then tripped into changbin, taking them both down.

you laid there, chest heaving, heart pounding, really feeling your body, not knowing what the fuck was happening. because they didn’t seem dangerous, but you knew they were.

chan tilted his head. “you ran well.”

“thanks.” you said.

jeongin crouched down to your face. “so. how you feeling?”

“fuck off.”

hyunjin tilted his pretty head, hands in his pockets. “you did really well.”

you forced yourself to breathe slower. think. keys. chan’s jacket pocket. right side. you’d seen the outline earlier when he caught one of the boys midfall.

jeongin tilted his head at you. “are you afraid? like, i’m actually asking, because i need to know what to do differently next time. are you afraid of death? did we make you feel like you’re going to die? how would you rate it out of ten?”

you sighed, looking down at the floor. “getting killed is, like, the last thing on my list right now.”

they paused.

seungmin grimaced. “yeah, no.”

“oh, no.” felix said, shaking his head

“dude.” minho murmured.

“we would never.” changbin whispered.

“ew.” han blurted, horrified.

you narrowed your eyes. “ew?”

“no—no—not ew you. i mean—fuck—you’re hot—shit—sorry—what i meant was—”

jeongin smacked the back of his head. “stop talking.”

seungmin pulled his mouth up. “we’re not… that evil.”

minho crossed his arms. “jesus.”

chan straightened slightly. “that’s not our thing.”

you watched the discomfort, the immediate correction, the way the tone shifted. interesting.

“relax.” you said, rolling your neck as much as the hold allowed. “i know.”

“thank you.” han said, sweating. “sorry. respectfully.”

“you’re fine.” you murmured.

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

but something had changed, you saw it. that weird line you’d dropped, (half joke, half truth because it’s horrible that we have to live in a world like this), went somewhere they didn’t like. their version of evil had rules. sooo fucking weird ones, but still.

“okay. wait. wait.” you said.

…

“what.”

“i think i’m gonna throw up.”

“fuck—” changbin recoiled.

“not on me.” minho said, backing up.

“turn her head!” felix yelped.

jeongin scrambled backward on his hands and feet.

chan watched seungmin loosen his grip. “are you actually nauseous?”

“yeah.” you croaked, gagging for effect. “stress. adrenaline. it hit now that i’m still.”

hyunjin crouched beside you, studying your face. “you might want to give her space.”

“THANK you.” you gasped.

they got off you. you rolled to your side, clutching your stomach dramatically. and in that shuffle, arms moving, balance adjusting, you shoved your hand straight into chan’s jacket pocket. your fingers hit metal.

keys.

you grabbed them and curled them into your palm just as jeongin leaned back in. “you good?”

you gagged louder.

“jesus.” minho said, disgusted.

“okay, okay.” changbin said. “bathroom, bathroom—”

“down the hall.” hyunjin said.

you scrambled to your knees, pushing past them, one hand over your mouth, the other clenched tight around the keys.

“don’t run.” chan warned.

you made eye contact with him.

and ran.

“FUCK.” seungmin yelled.

“GO GO GO.” han screamed, even though he was on the wrong side.

you sprinted down the hallway, heart about to explode, keys biting into your palm. behind you, footsteps. but now… less playful. more oh shit.

han tripped. felix ran into a wall. changbin yelled: “STAIRS—CUT HER OFF—” and jeongin was just shouting around for fun. just hootin n hollerin.

you ran down the hall.

behind you, hyunjin’s calm voice said: “don’t panic.” which was because they finally were.

you ran away from them, deep into the house again. you heard the footsteps disappear from behind you. good. good.

you slowed just enough to think. you couldn’t outrun eight of them forever.

chan and hyunjin were walking together on the halls. hyunjin had a small, neat folding knife now loose between his fingers. chan had taken a syringe with him. already prepped. yes, he can do a lot with only one syringe. his other hand kept brushing the empty space where the keys used to be.

he didn’t like that.

“she took them clean.” chan said.

“yeah. good hands.”

“you sound impressed.”

“i am.”

“you like her?”

hyunjin didn’t answer.

“if we lose her, we change locations.” chan said, ignoring that his earlier question didn’t get an answer. he already knew it.

hyunjin nodded. but there was something under it, for the first time, the outcome wasn’t certain. that was unusual for them, because they usually did really, really good at this. once someone was caught by them, there was no escape. you were the first one who lived to a second round. he found that interesting. and yeah, he might have started developing a tiny little crush on you, back when you two were just meeting up normally. so what? he’s allowed to!

jeongin moved alone. still with his axe that he’d twirled into familiarity. he swung it lightly as he walked. he checked corners, smiling. as if he was dancing.

“y/n.” he called, singsong. “be honest, was it the flirting? too much? i can dial it back. slightly.”

he stepped over a fallen chair.

“i just feel like we had chemistry.”

he grinned to himself. he loved this part, the story, the tension, the almost. he knew you were thinking now. they got a thinker. he loves that. ohohohoooo

he paused, listening. then grinned. “oh, you sneaky girl.”

seungmin had the fire poker again. holy shit??

he liked the chase because it stripped people down to instinct, survival. that’s what he respected.

“c’mon.” he murmured. “don’t go quiet on me.”

you were irritating him. he barely got irritated. ever.

changbin and minho moved together. changbin carried an injection case now, plus a heavy flashlight he could swing if needed. minho had a hunting knife.

they turned a corner. empty.

“she’s doing something.” minho realized.

changbin’s smile(that came upon his face while he was thinking about you, hehehe) faded. “oh.”

they heard a noise and both spun, only to slam into each other again.

“FOR FUCK’S SAKE.” minho snapped.

“shit.” changbin said, steadying the other guy by his shoulders. “let’s just go.”

you moved through hallways. your lungs burned, but your head was clear now. you slipped into a side room and crouched low, listening.

footsteps passed. voices echoed elsewhere. they’d spread too wide.

you waited, then moved when you judged safety.

back at the hyunjin chan duo, hyunjin stopped in the hallway. “she’s heading back.” he said quietly.

chan. followed his gaze toward the front of the house. “you sure?”

“yes.”

“how?”

“it’s what i’d do.”

meanwhile, at the front door han sat on the floor, back on the wall, holding a shovel. felix sat beside him on the other side of the door with a frying pan he absolutely did not need to be trusted with.

“…we guarding?” han asked.

felix looked at the door. looked at the hallway. looked back at the door.

“…yeah.” he decided.

they both nodded.

“you think she thinks i’m cute?” han asked, adjusting his grip on the shovel.

“bro. absolutely.”

“really?”

“yea, mate.”

they dapped each other up.

“if she makes it back here, i call saying something smooth.” felix said thoughtfully.

“what’s smooth?”

“i don’t know yet.”

while they talked, you grabbed a metal… something from a side table. and started walking back toward the front door.

“she definitely liked when i said she was hot.” han said.

“respectfully.” felix said.

“respectfully.” han looked away, then back at felix. “she’s gonna be so impressed when we catch her.”

“dude. literally.”

they fist bumped.

then, a loud sound came from down the hallway, and a metal object rolling fast across the floor toward them.

they screamed, then scrambled to their feet, immediately abandoning the door.

“dude. we’re gonna fucking die.” han cried.

felix grabbed his arm. “if y/n was here right now, she’d hold my hand.”

“yeah. she’d be so brave.”

“should we check?”

“no.”

“…we should get the others.”

“yes.”

they ran away from the door, deeper back into the house, yelling for backup.

the front door stood unguarded.

you waited three full seconds after their footsteps faded. then you moved. silent. you didn’t run, that was important. you didn’t want to make noise.

behind you, distant voices.

“FRONT DOOR!”

“THEY LEFT IT—”

you walked to the door quickly. put the key in. wrong key. tried another. wrong key. another. unlocked it. opened it.

now, you ran. you ran, and didn’t stop. you didn’t look back. already past the gate. past the trees. gone.

for the first time ever, they’d lost.

the boys regrouped at the front door. empty. door slightly open.

silence.

chan looked at the door. then at hyunjin, who stared at the gap, face blank. he felt respect. and relief.

seungmin looked at the lock. then at chan’s empty pocket. then back at the lock.

for a second, nobody spoke.

“you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” minho said, sneering.

behind them, han and felix jogged in, out of breath and pale.

“okay.” felix panted. “so—update—there’s a hallway demon—”

they stopped when they saw everyone standing still, all backs turned to them.

felix looked around. “anyone else feel a breeze?”

chan walked to the door in three steps and shoved it open the rest of the way. empty driveway. dark trees. no you.

jeongin blinked. “…no.”

seungmin made a sound like someone had just run over his foot. “noooo.”

minho rubbed both hands down his face. “no no no no—”

jeongin looked at the ceiling. “oh that’s embarrassing. that’s so embarrassing for us.”

han gasped “shit, she did it!”

felix nodded. “i always believed in her.”

they high-fived.

every head turned.

“are you two serious right now?” seungmin snapped.

han immediately jumped into felix arms.

chan stepped back inside slowly and shut the door, quiet. too quiet. “no one moves.” he said.

seungmin was already halfway to the threshold, fire poker still in hand. “we can still see the road—”

chan grabbed his arm. hard. “i said no.”

seungmin yanked free. “she’s on foot.”

“she has a head start.”

jeongin crossed his arms, shifting his weight. “so we just—what—clap?”

“use your brain for once.” chan, voice low. “you’ll make mistakes.”

“oh, i’m sorry.” seungmin snapped. “did your pocket make a mistake?”

OHHHHH.

minho swore and kicked a chair across the room. it smashed into the wall. “THIS is why we don’t get cute.” he said. “this is why we don’t play with our food.”

chanbin winced. “okay, that phrase—”

“not the time.” seungmin cut in.

hyunjin leaned against a table, arms crossed, watching the boys.

seungmin looked at him, suspicious. the level of angry where he gets suspicious at anything. “you’re quiet.”

“thinking.”

“about?”

hyunjin didn’t answer.

“you liked her.” minho accused.

hyunjin’s eyes flicked to him, calm and flat. “irrelevant.”

“bullshit.”

chan stepped between them before it turned physical. “enough.”

“no, not enough.” jeongin shot back. “she got past eight of us. eight.”

“seven.” seungmin muttered. “i was close.”

“YOU HIT A CABINET.” changbin screeched.

felix, still holding han bridal style, raised a hand. “i think we should acknowledge that she was very good.”

everyone stared at him.

han nodded seriously. “and brave.”

minho looked like he might actually kill them. “put him down.”

felix gently set han on his feet.

han immediately pointed at minho. “your energy is aggressive.”

minho grabbed a glass off a table and hurled it into the fireplace. it shattered. “THIS is aggressive.”

“billy badass over there.” changbin murmured, crossing his huge arms.

minho didn’t hesitate to turn towards changbin and shove him. changbin shoved back automatically.

“don’t start.” chan warned.

too late. seungmin grabbed minho’s shoulder and pulled him back. minho shook him off. jeongin stepped between them, not to help, just to watch. “god, you’re all so emotional.” he muttered.

seungmin started toward the door again, fury radiating off him. “i’m going after her.”

now, chan didn’t just stop him but actually pushed him away by the chest. a confident, violent push. manly. frustrated. “no.”

seungmin rounded on him. “she’s RIGHT THERE.”

han raised his hand again. “i still think she likes me.”

everyone yelled at once: “SHUT UP.” “READ THE ROOM.” “YOU WERE AFRAID OF THE DARK.” “SHE HIT YOU WITH A BAT.” “YOU LEFT THE DOOR.”

“we were investigating a threat!” felix said defensively to the last one.

“you are the threat, you idiot!” seungmin barked, then grabbed the front of his own shirt and screamed into it.

minho kicked the wall.

chan exhaled through his nose, centering himself. “no chasing into the dark.” he said. “not like this.”

“she’s getting farther.” jeongin argued.

seungmin made a noise like something dying. chan folded his arms. thinking. hyunjin stared into the night air like he could still see the path you took.

behind them, han whispered to felix: “when we catch her, i’m gonna ask if she thinks my eyes are pretty.”

felix nodded seriously. “they are.”

eight dangerous men. outplayed. and every single one of them wanted you back.

so yeah. that’s what happened, like… two weeks ago now? yeah. about two weeks. now you’re living your life. you hadn’t told anyone. what would you even say? you decided to just leave it. process it. give yourself time to get over it.

now you are standing in line for coffee. life’s been fine since that after all, you deserve it. you slept. eventually. not well, but enough. you changed routines. new routes, new locks, pepper spray, therapy waitlist, the works. you tell yourself you’re fine.

your name gets called.

“hey.”

your stomach drops before your brain catches up. you don’t turn around. because you know that voice. so you grab your coffee and walk. behind you, footsteps.

“okay, so don’t freak out.” jeongin says.

you keep walking.

“that’s actually a terrible opener, sorry, ignore that.”

you cross the street. he crosses too. you don’t look at him. you don’t run. at least you try.

“you look good.” he adds.

“go away.” you say calmly.

“working on it.” he says, which is not how that phrase works.

you turn a corner toward a busier street. people. noise. couples. kids.

“no.” you say.

“i just want to talk.”

“no.”

“did you get a haircut?” he tries.

you stop dead and turn. “how long have you been following me?”

“today? or—”

“jeongin.”

he winces. “okay. today today? like twenty minutes. but not in a creepy way. i was building courage.”

you resume walking faster.

he matches it, breath puffing a little. “listen, i know we didn’t end on a great note.”

“you chased me with an axe.” you cross the street without looking. a car honks. jeongin grabs your sleeve and yanks you back just enough to keep you from getting hit.

you stare at him.

“i didn’t come to hurt you.” he says. “if that helps.”

you keep walking. he groans softly and follows. people passing by just see two hot twenty somethings having what looks like a mildly tense situationship talk. it’s kinda crazy that they have no idea what happened two weeks ago.

you walk faster. he matches it.

“you dropped something.” he blurts. when you give no reaction, he tugs at your sleeve. “really.” he says, pointing behind you.

“that only worked once.” you say, yanking your hand out his grip.

“yeah.” he sighs. “worth a shot.”

a florist stand is set up on the corner. without stopping, jeongin leans sideways, grabs a small bouquet, tosses a crumpled bill onto the table, and keeps moving. he shoves the flowers toward you.

you stare at them. then at him. you don’t take them. but you stop walking and finally look at him.

he looks… normal. hoodie. messy hair. no axe. no grin that clearly tells he’s in animal mode. just this pretty guy.

people move around you, annoyed at the sidewalk blockage.

“you have five seconds.” you say.

he nods, serious now. “okay. we’re not going to hurt you.”

you stare. you start walking again.

he follows. “the boys haven’t shut up about you.”

“that’s not flattering.”

“it kind of is.”

“i don’t know what you want. i’m not coming back.” you say.

“i know.”

“you can’t follow me.”

“already am.”

you reached your apartment building. this is bad. this is very bad. you stop again, turning to face him fully now. his eyes shine.

“we don’t want to kill you.” he says quietly.

you search for anything that could say he’s lying. you can’t find it.

“that doesn’t make you better.” you say.

“i know.”

“you’re still—”

“yeah.”

“…if you come near my place again, i call the cops.”

he nods immediately.

“if i see any of you, i run.”

“mhm.” he holds the flowers out again, then seems to think better of it and just sets them on the sidewalk between you. “i just needed you to see that i’m not… only that.”

“…you are that.” you say. you’re not even being mean, just honest. brutally honest.

“yeah.” he says.

you go inside without looking back. not caring about where will he go, when will he go, why will he go.

the next day, you change your route. different coffee shop. different street. hoodie up, headphones on, just really fucking trying to stay away from them in general. you’re in that coffee shop now. then you step out of the café with your drink, and nearly walk straight into a guy. you flinch back hard.

“whoa—sorry—sorry.” a voice says quickly.

you look up. it takes your brain a second. glasses. plain black frames. simple gray t-shirt that does absolutely nothing to hide the fact that this man is fucking fit.

changbin.

he gives you a small, awkward wave like you ran into each other and not like he… he found you. “hi.”

you just stare.

“i come in peace.” he adds, lifting both hands.

you close your eyes. “you’ve got to be kidding me.”

“okay. before you walk away—i deserve that—but just—hi.”

you glance around. public. morning rush. safe enough. “why are you here.”

he adjusts his glasses. “i just wanted to talk. like, normal talk. not chase talk.”

you sigh, and start walking. “you have two minutes before i start screaming.” that’s more time you’ve given jeongin, though.

he falls into step beside you immediately. “you could’ve called the cops.” he says after a moment. genuinely confused. “you still could.”

you look at him. “you don’t think i’ve thought about that?”

“i figured. but you didn’t.”

you sip your coffee, buying time. “you’d disappear before anyone got there.”

“…yeah.” he admits.

“and then what? i spend the rest of my life wondering if you’re gonna show up mad?”

he nods slowly. he can’t argue that.

“also, i don’t want to tell that story out loud. figured it would be the best for me if i just lived through it and got over it. eventually.” you add, quieter.

changbin nods “okay. yeah. that makes sense.”

you study him. he looks the same as in the house, almost friendly. that makes a question pop up in your head. “have you done that before?” you ask. “like. killing people.”

“yeah.”

“how many?”

he blows out a breath through his teeth. “i don’t keep a number.”

“and why?”

he takes a breath, thinking. actually thinking. “it’s not the killing part.” he says slowly. “not for me. that’s just… the end of it. it’s the before. i dunno. i like the teamwork. but that’s just me, ask the others if you want their version.”

you’re confused. “…did something happen in your past?”

he shrugs. “no. grew up rich. had friends. i have a great job. my mom calls me on sundays.”

you stare at him.

“i’m serious.” he says. “i’m just… like this.”

you hate how calmly he says it. “when did you start?”

“early twenties.”

“why didn’t you stop?”

he gives you a small, almost embarrassed smile. “i’m good at it.”

you don’t answer. a car horn blares down the street. someone laughs nearby. the world keeps going, oblivious. “you scared me.” you say.

“i know.”

“you still are.”

“i know.”

you swallow. you check the time on your phone. “i told jeongin i’d scream if any of you came close to me ever again.”

“i heard.”

“you got lucky.”

“i’m glad.”

a bit of silence.

you meet his eyes. “i don’t trust you.”

“you shouldn’t.”

“but you still came now. why? why can’t you leave me alone?”

he shrugs, small and helpless. “i liked talking to you in the kitchen. before we… started.”

ow. sounds bad. so bad that you take a step back. away from him. you’re scared.

“i don’t feel things the way other people do.” he says finally. he wanted to spit that out for a while now, he just couldn’t scrape the courage together. “it’s like everything’s gray unless it’s intense.”

you sigh. “…at least you’re honest.”

he nods. “i just… i wanted one interaction with you that wasn’t you running.”

you watch him. he’s still scary. “you got it.” you say. “now what.”

he shrugs. “now i go away.”

you study him. glasses slightly crooked. trying very hard not to look threatening. failing, because he looks like he could lift a car.

you almost smile. almost. “don’t follow me.” you say.

“i won’t.”

“tell the others.”

“i will.”

you start to walk off.

“hey.” he calls.

you turn, tired.

“you were really impressive.” he says. sincere. really.

you hold his gaze. “i know.”

then you leave him standing on the sidewalk, alone. alone with his horrible, evil soul. alone with this weird dumb crush he recently developed on you. alone with his biceps, flexing because he feels a lot and it just… happens when he feels a lot.

it’s the next day. normal day. sun’s out. people walking dogs. a delivery truck is parked. blablabla anything that says world goes on. you were paranoid this day, sure, but you survived so far. you’re currently locking your apartment building door after yourself so you could go grocery shopping when a voice behind you says:

“okay, don’t be mad.”

you close your eyes. slow inhale. you turn.

it’s felix. and this guy literally tried to shoot you once, you remember clearly, but he looks… perfect. perfect hair. expensive jacket. shoes that cost more than your phone. holding… a container?

you stare.

he smiles, so sweet. “i made you muffins.”

“…you what.”

“blueberry.” he says proudly.

you look at the container, suspicious. “i’m not eating that.”

he frowns a little. “that hurt my feelings.”

“you tried to kill me.”

“sorry.”

you rub your face. “why are you here.”

he shifts his weight. he’s nervous. it’s cute tho. “we voted.” he says.

“you VOTED.”

“yeah.”

“ON WHAT.”

“on not killing you.”

you just stare at him.

he brightens. “it was almost unanimous.”

“WHO voted no?”

“…minho.”

yoy try to step around him toward the street. he mirrors you accidentally.

“felix.”

he freezes. “yeah?”

“move.”

“oh. right. sorry.” he sidesteps so fast he almost falls off the curb.

“you cannot come here.” you say. calm. really hoping he’ll understand. “you cannot follow me. you cannot bake for me. do you understand how insane this is?”

he nods immediately. “yes.”

“then why are you here.”

he looks at the muffins. then at you. “okay. so. we— i— baked.” yes baby, we know. you told us already.

“i see that.”

“for you.”

“i gathered.”

he nods, satisfied that the point has been made.

you start walking. he starts walking. directly into a street sign. it’s loud.

he recoils. “ow.”

you pinch the bridge of your nose.

“is it bleeding?” he asks, pointing at his face, but he immediately goes cross eyed as you push his face away instead. his skin is warm. feels nice tbh. he blinks at you, unbothered. “you have strong hands.”

“go away.”

“okay.” he says.

he does not go away.

you reach the crosswalk and the light changes. felix steps forward without looking. a car honks.

you grab his hand and yank him back.

he stumbles into you.

“jesus.” you mutter, still holding his hand as you cross. “you’d be roadkill in five minutes.”

he looks down at your joined hands, his big eyes shining, absolutely taken aback by the fact that you would do this for him. well, all that until you drop his hand on the other side of the street.

“thanks.” he says cheerfully.

a man wearing a watch worth a month’s rent, carrying something he made for you that you won’t eat, who could absolutely overpower you, and instead just almost died to a car.

“don’t follow me.” you say.

“okay.” he says, still following.

you glance at him. “you’re unbelievably stupid.”

“thank you.” he says.

“that wasn’t—”

“i’ve been working on self-acceptance.”

pffft.

you stop. “felix, listen. i don’t want you guys here.”

he looks at you, tilting his pretty head in confusion.

“you scare me.” you clarify.

“oh.” he says quietly. that, he understood.

you point at the muffins. “those could be drugged.”

“they’re not!”

“i don’t know that.”

silence hangs between you. street noise fills it. someone laughs across the road. life just keeps going.

“i liked talking to you.” he says finally.

“you didn’t talk to me.” you reply. “you hunted me.”

“yeah. i’m sorry.”

you watch him. disappointed that something this beautiful can be this cruel. “you need to leave.”

he nods. but he doesn’t move yet. “do you…” he starts, then stops. tries again. “do you hate us?”

you don’t hesitate. “yes?” of fucking course bro???

his little brain absorbs that. shoulders drop a little. “okay.”

he holds out the muffins one last time, hopeful in the dumbest way possible.

you just look at him.

he lowers them.

“just go, felix. bye.”

“yeah. bye.”

he turns the wrong direction.

you grab his hood and spin him around. “that way.”

“right.” he says, walking off.

he makes it three steps. turns back. holds up the muffin container. “do you want—”

“no.”

“okay.”

he walks into a bike rack.

you watch him go. he looks beautiful.

you hate him.

you check to make sure he crosses the next street safely before you turn away.

that passed too. a few days later you are leaving a pharmacy in the afternoon, receipt crumpled in your fist, focusing on your surroundings now.

and across the street, leaning against a lamppost, is chan. he raised a hand, giving you a little wave, mouthing: you good?

you mouth back go away.

he nods once, then pushes off the pole and walks in the opposite direction. not chasing now. actually walking away.

then you’re in a grocery store, looking at pastas, deciding which one you want to eat tonight. a hand reaches past you and places the more expensive one in your cart.

you turn. it’s seungmin. black hoodie. baseball cap.

you immediately pull it back out. “no.”

he takes it. puts it back into the cart.

“no.”

back in.

“stop.”

it went on for a good five minutes.

at checkout, you unload your stuff, and when you’re about to pay, seungmin comes up behind you and wordlessly uses his card. do you process that in the head? no, only when he is already at the exit, hands in his pockets, not looking back.

he walks straight into the automatic door before it finishes opening. you hear the thud.

you rub your temples.

then you’re walking through the park because that’s the shorter way home. peaceful. sunlight. children playing. then the bush next to the sidewalk starts shaking.

you stop. you kick the bush. han tumbles out directly at your feet. face in dirt.

“…hi.” he says into the grass.

you look down at him. “were you hiding?”

he looks up at you, leaves in his hair, expression hopeful. “no.”

you start walking again. he scrambles up and follows, then trips on the sidewalk edge.

you catch his sleeve before he eats pavement. “use your brain.”

he nods seriously. “i keep meaning to.”

next time about days later, you see felix before he sees you. he’s staring into a store window, clearly confused by mannequins.

you walk past.

noticing that, he turns and his pretty little face lights up. “hi!”

“hi. don’t.”

“okay.”

he walks into a mailbox.

you only see hyunjin once, at a distance. not close enough to speak. just standing outside a train station, hands in his coat pockets, watching the crowd, not just you.

when your eyes meet, he doesn’t smile, just gives a small nod. then he leaves.

days after that it’s seungmin again. at night. parking lot. you only came with car because it was too far. you’re unlocking your car and a shadow leans against the hood.

“you’ve been avoiding me.” seungmin says, casual as hell, like he didn’t once swing a fire poker at your skull. “man.” he continues “small world, right?”

you turn, pepper spray in hand, and spray it directly into his eyes.

he screams, drops to his knees, clawing at his face. “OH MY GOD IT’S LIKE SATAN PISSED IN MY EYES—”

“stop finding me!” you yell.

he’s laughing through the pain. laughing. “you look good today.”

you drive off while he’s still swearing.

the next time minho follows you through a bookstore. keeps pretending to browse. picks up a book upside down. so you turn a corner and wait. he walks right into it. he also gets a taste of your pepper spray.

“SON OF A BITCH.” he chokes, doubling over between romance and self help. “you fucking—”

“YOU’RE STALKING ME.”

they find you in different places. weeks apart. or days apart. but they always come back.

something is clearly wrong with them. like, all eight are sick in the head. but it doesn’t seem like they’re following you around to kill you. they talk too long. they get distracted. they bring you things. they absolutely eat shit every time you fight back. and you do fight back. diva.

minho and seungmin have been pepper sprayed so many times they flinch when you reach into your bag. jeongin tries every possible pickup line on you. han once tried to sneak up on you and got hit in the face with your tote bag and apologized.

it’s ike they’re still in hunting mode. after you. into you. but now they’re… unsure. they don’t seem to want you dead anymore. they just… want you around now. or to just be around you, at least.

it’s the middle of the night right now. you’re in old sweatpants, hair a mess, waiting for the food you ordered. and soon enough, the doorbell rings. you shuffle over and look through the peephole for a second. delivery uniform. cap. bag. seems normal. so you open the door.

it’s felix. smiling ear to ear, holding your takeout, wearing the uniform jacket and cap. “hi!”

“absolutely not.” you say, already closing the door.

he sticks his foot in. “wait, wait—don’t slam it, the soup’ll spill—”

that’s when you see it, behind him, in the hallway. a man on the floor. the delivery uniform pants still on him, only his jacket gone, the one on felix right now. there’s blood under the man.

your stomach drops. your organs drop. after staring for about a minute, you slowly look back at felix. “…is that—”

“okay.” he says quickly. “before you freak out—”

“BEFORE I FREAK OUT?? YOU KILLED THE DELIVERY GUY?!”

jeongin leans into view, coming next to felix, hands in pockets. “it wasn’t him who killed the guy.”

you point wildly, not even concerned about the fact that there’s two of them now. “THAT IS A PERSON ON THE FLOOR.”

“yeah but like…” minho says, stepping into the doorframe, arm around felix’s shoulders now. “he’s not using the uniform anymore.”

your mouth opens. nothing comes out.

and then, without a word, chan walks past you. into your home. into your fucking home. felix shrugs and follows him. the other six too, actually taking their shoes off.

YOU ARE STILL HOLDING THE DOOR. THEY JUST WALK AROUND YOU.

“what—no—no—no—” you manage, backing up as they enter.

han closes the door gently behind them. “heat’s nice in here.” he says.

hyunjin looks at you and mutters a quiet but confident “hi” before going further into your living room.

changbin walks past you and spins slowly, taking in the room. “oh this is cute. this is very you.”

“YOU BROUGHT A CORPSE TO MY DOOR.” you choke.

felix is still holding the food bag. “your noodles are getting cold.” he says softly.

you make a noise that doesn’t exist in human language. (imagine something close to a windows crash sound)

seungmin tosses his jacket over a chair. there’s a smear of blood on his sleeve.

you gag.

he notices. “oh, relax. it’s mostly the delivery guy’s.”

“OH MY GOD.”

“hey, where’s the hand soap?” han asks, already at your kitchen sink, washing blood off his fingers.

you stare at the red swirling down your drain.

jeongin flops onto your couch. “i like what you did with the lighting in here. mood.”

“GET OUT.” you say, voice coming back in bursts. “GET—OUT—OF—MY—APARTMENT.”

they all look at you. it’s obvious that they don’t really understand what’s your problem.

chan gestures toward the takeout bag. “eat first.”

“I DON’T WANT THE FOOD.”

felix looks devastated. “you picked the combo meal…”

changbin is by your bookshelf now. “you alphabetized? that’s hot.”

“a— i— eugh— what is HAPPENING.”

minho leans against the wall. “okay, in our defense—”

“there is NO DEFENSE.”

“—we didn’t come to kill you.”

“YOU’RE TRACKING BLOOD ON MY FLOOR.”

they all look down.

han lifts his foot. “…shit.”

jeongin points at him. “mop boy.”

han salutes and grabs paper towels.

“listen.” chan says, turning to be in front of you. “we just wanted to see you.”

you stare at him. then at the door. “…you couldn’t text?” you ask hoarsely.

eight grown ass serial killer men exchange glances.

jeongin shrugs. “didn’t have your number.” that’s alright sweetie, not like you can’t find a phone number when you can find an address perfectly. not like you can’t ask for it from HYUNJIN.

you make another sound.

changbin steps closer, hands up, gentle. “okay, hey. we know this looks bad.”

“LOOKS—”

“bad phrasing.” he admits.

seungmin rubs the back of his neck. “we didn’t plan the delivery guy part.”

“that’s WORSE.” you sag against the wall. “you have got to be shitting me.” you whisper to yourself. then you look at them. all of them. in your apartment. on your couch. at your sink. in your life. “out.”

they don’t move.

jeongin tilts his head. “we just got here—”

“OUT.”

changbin actually flinches.

seungmin raises his hands. “okay, volume—”

“you killed someone. again, i assume. and brought it to my DOOR. do you understand how fucking insane that is?”

silence.

“i can’t sleep normally. i check reflections everywhere. i don’t walk with headphones anymore. do you get that? do you get what you did to my brain? i couldn’t function for weeks. every sound was footsteps. every guy walking behind me was one of you. i have three different hiding spots in my own apartment.”

han raises a hand slightly. “this one’s not great.”

“NO IT IS NOT GREAT.”

felix looks genuinely confused. “we didn’t think about… after.”

“YEAH. THAT’S THE PROBLEM. you don’t think about after. you don’t think about people being PEOPLE. you think about adrenaline and teamwork and your little murder club hangouts.”

changbin crosses his arms. “okay when you say it like that—”

“how else is there to say it??” you gesture wildly at the room.

they don’t look guilty. they look… attentive. they’re paying attention. trying to understand you.

you swallow. “no, seriously. i want to know. when you followed me for weeks? when you showed up at my job? when i thought every man walking behind me was about to grab me? that was fun for you?”

seungmin shrugs. “engaging.”

you grab the nearest thing, a throw pillow, and launch it at his face. then relax your shoulders and sigh. “i am a person. with a nervous system. i had a normal life before you guys.”

there’s a long pause.

felix raises a hand slightly. “your food is still warm.”

“READ THE ROOM.”

he lowers it.

han whispers to him: “she’s upset-upset.”

“no shit.” you snap.

chan has his hands on his hips. “you’re saying we made you paranoid and ruined your life.”

you stare. “…are you fucking for real right now.”

“trying to understand the damage.”

“DAMAGE???”

jeongin leans forward on the couch, elbows on knees. “we don’t feel fear like that, or guilt the way you do.”

“yeah, i noticed.”

“but we’re not dumb.” hyunjin says quietly.

your eyes flick to him.

he meets them. calm. honest in a deeply unsettling way. “we know we changed your life. we can see the behavioral shifts. we know what we did. we just don’t care.“

you blink. does this fucking asshole hear himself.

he continues. “and what you’re saying is that our continued presence equals harm.”

you blink “yes.”

“even without immediate violence.”

“YES.”

he nods once. processing. filing it somewhere in his terrifyingly organized brain.

chan takes over. “we’re saying, we understand the outcome. even if we don’t experience the emotion attached.”

changbin rubs his neck. “we didn’t think about the after. usually there isn’t one.”

you let that sit. “yeah.” you say. “because people die.”

quiet.

han finally says, softly: “you didn’t.”

you look at him. “no. i didn’t. and now i have to live with what you did.”

there’s a long silence.

then jeongin claps his hands once. “so. solution. anyone? ideas?”

you point at him without looking. “you are on thin fucking ice.”

he mimes zipping his mouth.

seungmin rubs his face. “okay, but question.”

you glare.

“when we stopped trying to actually kill you… that didn’t help?”

you just stare at him. “…you hear yourself, right?”

he thinks about it. “…yeah.”

felix looks like he’s actually using his brain for once. “we thought… not finishing the job was growth.”

“that is the lowest bar i have ever heard in my LIFE.”

but you see, the thing is, this is a system error for them. you’re not prey right now. you’re not running. you’re furious, first of all. human. loud. hurt. they don’t know this game. they only know the killing and manipulating one, but they want to have you. they just… don’t know how to get you.

chan clears his throat. “so the correct action would be… removal of our presence.”

“yes.”

“immediately.”

“so fucking immediately.”

“we don’t want to kill you.” minho cuts in, hoping that this saves their situation a bit.

“yeah, you told me a hundred times already. your point?” you ask

“we like you.”

you make a face like you bit into soap. “that is not how liking works.”

“for you.” he agrees.

chan exhales. decisive. “we adjust behavior.”

you cross your arms. “into WHAT?”

silence.

felix brightens. “dinner?”

you stare at him.

han nods eagerly.

you look around the room at eight serial killers in your living space, one of them holding a roll of paper towels covered in someone else’s blood. “…dinner.”

changbin shrugs. “low pressure environment. public. you feel safer. we practice acting normal.”

minho adds: “exposure therapy. for all parties.”

“i just gave a speech about how you ruined my sense of safety.” you whisper, voice defeated.

hyunjin nods. “we heard you.”

“and you want to take me to DINNER.”

“yes.”

“why.”

he doesn’t hesitate. “because harming you is now counterproductive to the thing we want.”

you are actually taken aback by the words this guy uses. “…which is?”

he holds your gaze.

“you.”

the room goes quiet.

then han whispers to felix, way too loud: “is this flirting?”

“yeah.” felix whispers back. “i think this is the good kind.”

you drag a hand down your face. “…get the fuck out of my apartment.”

they stand, immediately obedient. getting their shoes on and whatnot.

changbin gives you a small wave. “we’ll text?”

“you do not have my number.”

jeongin points at hyunjin. “he’ll give it to us.”

“I WILL CALL THE POLICE.”

they walk out.

han pauses at the door. “sorry about the sink.”

door closes. silence. your apartment is a disaster. your life is worse.

but… they looked weirdly sincere, actually. and they were.

soon, they stopped showing up unannounced. mostly. they also stopped bringing weapons into your line of sight. mostly. and they stopped treating you like prey. completely.

how were they about you, comes the question.

obsessed.

and they did not process attachment normally. if they processed it. they did not understand love. but they understood preference, and if you told them enough times, then eventually they understood your emotions too. well, not understood, but they processed the fact that you feel the way you feel and they can do something about it if they actually try.

han once fell down an entire staircase because someone said your name and he turned too fast. chan pretended he wasn’t competitive about board games and then absolutely lost his mind over monopoly. hyunjin brought you flowers all the time. you learned that seungmin always had to sleep on his stomach.

you started to understand the function of them. not excuse, no. absolutely not. just understand and process the fact that they’re how they are. and you couldn’t do shit about it, and you couldn’t get rid of them now. so you lived with it.

they still killed, of course. that was one of the few things that brought them happiness in life, so you couldn’t expect them to stop doing it. they didn’t kill around you, though.

but you knew they still did it. and you could feel when the tension built when they haven’t hurt anybody in a long time.

it also… what’s the right word, scared? impressed? took you aback? could be either, what matters is that when you saw that all of them had it in them, even han and felix who behaved like total angels throughout the day, it… upset you. or just moved something in you, seeing that each of them has that empty place where fear or guilt or empathy should go.

they didn’t kill out of anger. it was release. their brains were wired wrong. thrill, control, mastery, stimulation, those hit the reward centers. violence scratched an itch they couldn’t reach any other way.

and after, they were calmer. lighter, like they’d gone for a run. when they were satisfied with themselves, they tried to tell you about it. you always stopped them, because you did NOT need to hear the horrible things they did. no matter how much they wanted to brag about it, how much they wanted to make you proud.

you weren’t safe in the world, but you were weirdly safe with them. and they would have died for you.

but you had to set rules. actual rules. “do not follow me into bathrooms.” “do not threaten my coworkers.” “do not kill anyone within a five-mile emotional radius of me.” the basics. and they tried. god, they tried. but they didn’t really… do well.

once you opened your door to seungmin at one in the morning, and he stood there, breathing a little heavy, COVERED in blood.

you just stared.

he stared back.

“…you good?” he asked.

“are you good??”

“oh. yeah. not mine.”

you almost slammed the door. he stopped it with a hand, but gently. always that now.

“didn’t come here for that.” he said.

“for what, seungmin, WHAT possible reason makes this a normal social call.”

he shrugged. “adrenaline crash. didn’t wanna be alone.”

that did something weird to your chest. not forgiving, just… information. because you realized that now they wanted you. your company, your voice, your hands. and it felt good.

anyways, you told him to take a shower, then you let him hang out with you.

they also fought each other more than they ever fought you.

once minho and jeongin, two extremely capable men mind you, actually went for each other’s throats in your kitchen while hyunjin and chan tried to separate them.

you yelled at them then. they paused and looked at you.

jeongin, bleeding from the lip, grinned. but like in that hot way. “sorry.”

“take it outside if you’re gonna be like this.” you told them.

“fair.” chan said, dragging minho back by the collar.

you weren’t scared of them like prey anymore. you were scared of the capacity. the strength. the speed. the way the air changed when something in them flipped.

you’d seen what they could do, you just weren’t the target now.

they were on your dick constantly, though. emotionally. socially. existentially. texting wasn’t their thing, but presence was. which meant they showed up unannounced a lot. but the reason for that was that they didn’t want to lose access to you, to be honest. didn’t like the thought of that.

one night you opened the door to changbin. he told you he was going to come over later. well, it was late. around midnight.

when he saw you, his eyes lit up, and wrapped you in the warmest, most affectionate, full-body hug of your life.

you froze.

because he was sticky.

wet sleeve. iron smell. your cheek against his skin. your hands touching the back of his shirt.

he squeezed tighter, cheek against your hair. “missed you.”

you pulled back.

looked down.

this boy was covered in blood.

he smiled, soft, relieved. “hi.”

you shoved back, stumbling, hand over your mouth, already shaking your head like that would stop it. you barely made it to the sink before you threw up in it.

behind you, changbin stood there, horrified. “oh. oh no. right. right. that’s— that’s on me.”

from the hallway, jeongin yelled: “did you forget again??”

“I GOT EXCITED.”

hyunjin was the only one who followed you then, already grabbing a towel, turning on the sink. he didn’t look at changbin, and he didn’t look at the blood. he looked at you. “i’ve got you. you’re okay. breathe.”

they kept forgetting what you were. alive. normal. human. that for you it was a body, a person, a life.

it wasn’t the only time, of fucking course. they’d be loose, relaxed, calm. you’d be staring at hands that had done something irreversible two hours ago. there were a few nights like that, a sleeve not changed, a stain not noticed, you throwing up in your own kitchen while eight men who could disassemble a human being panicked because they’d upset you.

not because they felt guilt like you did. because they’d hurt something important in the environment. you. you, who sometimes made it to the sink, sometimes didn’t.

they did learn, though. slowly. painfully. they didn’t feel what you felt, but they learned it mattered. which, for them, was the closest thing to empathy available in the system.

you fell asleep on the couch once while they were over. you didn’t mean to. how could you mean to, when you knew what they were capable of?

and you woke up pinned. well, luckily not trapped, just surrounded. han was hugging your ankle. felix was using your shoulder as a pillow. changbin had an arm across your middle. jeongin was half off the couch but anyways. seungmin pretended he wasn’t involved but his foot was hooked under your leg.

they didn’t experience comfort like most people did. but proximity? pressure? familiar scent? that, they liked.

they were really, really glad that you survived them. and because of that, somewhere in their broken little predator brains, you became home. and what do predators do? bring things home.

once han showed up beaming, holding something behind his back.

“i got you flowers.” he said.

you blinked. that was… new.

he revealed it.

you stared.

it was technically arranged like a bouquet. the only problem was that… they were human lower arms. a lot of them. like flowers. just… arms.

you made a noise. you looked away, then back at it, then had to look away again.

“i thought it was romantic.” he said, crushed.

“honey, i appreciate that, but—“ you gagged. held the doorframe. teared up.

he watched you throw up then. patted your back after.

felix once brought you a wallet because “you’re always losing yours.”

you opened it. immediately closed it. “felix.”

“yeah?”

“return that.”

chan was… fucking brutal. he didn’t bring objects. he brought information.

“found a guy who’d been stalking women in your area.” he said once.

you went cold. “…what did you do.”

he met your eyes calmly. “took care of him, of course.”

you didn’t know whether to scream or say thank you. this one wasn’t bad, actually. you just had to sit down for a minute.

they were not house trained though, not even a little. one time you caught seungmin about to piss in your giant houseplant.

“seungmin.” you sighed.

he froze midzip. “…yeah?”

“if you water that plant with your BODY i will end you.”

“okay, okay.” he said, offended. “god. boundaries.”

felix once wiped his hands on your curtains. han sat on your coffee table. minho had to be told three separate times that knives did not belong “wherever feels right.” changbin once tried to “air out” your apartment by opening every window during winter.

and jeongin was just really spontaneous in general. if a guy talked to you, he would insert himself into the conversation, no matter what. “bro.” he’d say, arm slung over the stranger’s shoulders. “i love your confidence. truly. quick question, how attached are you to having kneecaps?”

you hit him. he’d grin. the stranger would evaporate.

hyunjin was the only one who got you normal gifts. they were… brutally expensive, yeah, and you had no idea where he had that kind of money from, but you appreciated every gift from him.

and oh my fucking god, the mailman. felix hated the mailman. for no reason. the man was fifty something and friendly. still, every time the mail arrived, felix would appear at your window, talking bout sum “he’s back.” ???

“felix, that’s his job.”

“yeah but why is he always here?”

“because i live here. that’s how mail works.”

the suspicion remained.

but beneath all the insanity, the red flags, the daily reminder that they could bring a corpse to your doorstep any day, they were sincere. they never played with your feelings. never lied about what they were. never pretended.

they just… adjusted their behavior around one central rule, which was not to lose you. to keep you safe, even if they didn’t understand why they wanted to keep you so safe. or why did you find so many things they did wrong.

you had, at one point, physically grabbed felix by the hair and yanked him backward because he was halfway out your front door, whispering “i just wanna talk to him.” about the mailman.

“NO.” you barked, fist in his hair.

“he’s BEEN HERE THREE TIMES THIS WEEK.” felix insisted.

“THAT IS HOW MAIL WORKS.”

he did not agree with you.

changbin loved cheek kisses. loved them. unfortunately, changbin also had a chronic issue where he just… forgot he was holding things. knife. wrench. crowbar. gun.

you’d feel a gentle kiss on your cheek and open your eyes to see cold steel six inches from your face.

“baby.” you’d say.

“oh, shit.” weapon would go on the table like car keys. “sorry.” he’d say, and kiss your other cheek, now technically unarmed.

then once you mentioned to hyunjin that you were cold and he wordlessly took off his jacket. it had a suspicious stain. he saw you notice.

“…i’ll get another one.” he said immediately.

because he really didn’t want you to be cold. not like he understood what your problem was with a little blood, but alright. anything for you.

now that i’m getting carried away with the stories, i’ll tell you that han did not understand personal space.

for an example, if you scolded him? immediate cling. you’d finish saying “you cannot threaten the barista for writing my name wrong” and suddenly he’d be attached to your side, rubbing his face into you, arms around your shoulders, chin on your head.

“okay, but we’re good though, right?”

“sweetie, i’m trying to pay.”

he’d nod against your hair, not moving. that went on for twelve minutes until a woman asked if he was concussed.

they clung like that a lot, they didn’t understand a lot, they acted up a lot, they hated a lot, but they loved one thing.

you.

they didn’t understand jealousy as an emotion. they understood it as something wrong with their insticts, and you in danger. how did that make sense? it didn’t. it just sounded horrible. because it was. but it was also the most sincere attachment they were capable of.

you were still scared sometimes, still human, compared to them(they’re literally almost not human in their senses). still deeply aware of what they were, and reminded of it a lot of times, of course.

but they’d learned one thing with absolute certainty.

you were not a victim anymore, you were something new to them, to their lives, something…. let’s say home.

and they were trying, badly, incorrectly, concerningly, to deserve to be there.

[lovecase]

ℋANDS OFF ℘ SKZ's!

ɞ . abstract. they’re used to sharing their lives with the world, but they aren't interested in sharing you. eight times the members reminded a stranger exactly where the line was drawn. ɞ . warnings / tags. fluff. suggestive. jealous!skz. established relationship. possessive & territorial behavior. intimidation of others. unwanted attention/harassment. encroachment on personal space. mentions of alcohol/drinking.

BANG CHAN

the studio was crowded, way more crowded than it usually was during a late-night tracking session. you were perched on the edge of the leather sofa, tucked into the corner with a drink in your hand, while the rest of the guys milled around. it was supposed to be a low-key wrap party for the new album, but some of the producers had brought friends, and the room felt small.

chan was across the room, leaning over the console with changbin and a couple of senior engineers. he looked good—focused, his sleeves pushed up to his elbows, a pencil tucked behind his ear—but you could tell he was keeping one eye on the door and one eye on you. he always did that. he called it being a good host, but you knew it was just his nature to keep track of his people.

"so, how long have you known the group?"

you blinked, pulling your gaze away from chan to look at the guy who had just sat down next to you. he was one of the guest track-makers, someone you’d seen a few times but never really spoken to. he was leaning in close, his arm draped over the back of the sofa, effectively carving out a little bubble for the two of you.

"oh, a long time," you said, offering a polite smile. "i’ve been friends with chan since before the debut."

"lucky guy," he chuckled, his eyes scanning your face in a way that felt a little too lingering. "i can see why he keeps you around. you’ve got a really great energy." he introduces himself, giving you some name that you can't recall. can't bother to.

he didn't pull back. if anything, he shifted closer, his knee brushing against yours. you tried to shift subtly, but the sofa was deep, and there wasn't much room to move. "thanks," you murmured, taking a sip of your drink to avoid further conversation.

"you know," he continued, lowering his voice to a tone that was definitely meant to be intimate. "we’re headed to an after-party at a club nearby in about twenty minutes. chan’s probably going to stay here and obsess over the master tracks for another five hours. you should come with us. i'd love to actually get to know you without all this noise."

he reached out then, his fingers grazing your forearm as if to emphasize the invitation.

before you could even open your mouth to decline, the atmosphere in the room shifted. you didn't even have to look up to know chan had noticed. you could feel the weight of his stare from across the room.

a second later, the heavy footsteps approached. chan didn't walk over; he converged.

"everything okay here?"

chan’s voice was low, smooth as silk but with a jagged edge underneath that made the hair on the back of your neck stand up. he didn't wait for an answer. he stepped right into the narrow space between the coffee table and the couch, placing a firm, heavy hand on your shoulder. his thumb rubbed against the base of your neck in a slow, possessive rhythm.

the man pulled his hand back quickly, clearing his throat. "oh, yeah. just inviting your friend here to the after-party. you’re probably too busy to go, right?"

chan tilted his head, a small, tight smile playing on his lips that didn't reach his eyes. he looked incredibly calm, but the grip on your shoulder tightened just enough for you to feel the tension vibrating through him.

"actually," chan said, his voice dropping an octave, sounding like that deep tone he got when he was serious. "we have our own plans. and i’m never too busy for her."

he looked down at you then, his expression softening for a split second before he cut his eyes back to the other man. the look was icy—a clear, unspoken warning that said you're overstepping.

"is that right?" he stammered, looking between the two of you. "i didn't realize... i mean, i thought you guys were just..."

"we're a lot of things," chan interrupted, his voice steady. "but available isn't one of them. you should probably go find your group, man. i think they're leaving."

it wasn't a suggestion. he got the message, mulling out a quick "right, see ya" before making a beeline for the door.

the moment he was gone, the room seemed to regain its oxygen. chan didn't move his hand. he let out a long, ragged exhale, his shoulders finally dropping from their defensive hunch. he turned toward you, his eyes dark and swirling with a mix of leftover adrenaline and something that looked a lot like guilt.

"sorry," he muttered, though he didn't sound particularly sorry. "he was being... a lot."

"channie," you said softly, reaching up to cover his hand with yours. "were you jealous?" you don't bother to hide the teasing lilt in your voice.

he let out a dry, sheepish laugh, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. he looked away for a moment, watching the door where the guy had disappeared. "was it that obvious?"

"you looked like you were about to growl," you giggle.

chan stepped closer, moving until he was standing between your knees, his presence completely enveloping you. he leaned down, his face inches from yours, his eyes searching your face with an intensity that made your heart hammer against your ribs.

"i don't like the way he was looking at you," he confessed, his voice a rough whisper. "and i definitely didn't like him touching you. i know i shouldn't be so... yeah. i know you can handle yourself."

he paused, his fingers sliding up to cup your jaw, his thumb tracing your lower lip.

"but the thought of someone else taking you away from here—even for an hour? i can't handle it. you're the only thing in this room that keeps me sane, okay? i'm selfish. i want you right where i can see you."

you smiled, pulling him down by his collar until your foreheads rested together. "i wasn't going anywhere, channie. i like it right here."

he hummed, a deep sound in his chest, and finally let out a real smile—the one that made his eyes crinkle at the corners. "good. because i’m done with work for the night. let’s get out of here before someone else tries to talk to you."

he pulled you up from the sofa, his fingers interlacing tightly with yours, refusing to let go even as he grabbed his jacket. he led you out of the studio, his body positioned slightly in front of yours, a silent shield against the rest of the world.

LEE KNOW

the dance studio was freezing, the air conditioning humming a low, mechanical tune that usually helped minho focus. but today, his focus was completely shot. he was leaning against the mirrored wall, a towel draped over his shoulders, watching you talk to one of the new backup dancers near the sound system.

minho didn't do loud jealousy. he didn't storm over or start a scene. he was more surgical than that. he just watched, his eyes narrowed, tracking every movement.

the guy—some kid who was way too confident for his first week—was laughing, leaning a little too close to you. he reached out to adjust the strap of your bag that was slipping off your shoulder, his fingers lingering on your skin a second too long.

you were just being friendly, smiling at his jokes, but minho’s jaw tightened. he felt that familiar, sharp prickle of irritation. he hated when people didn't know their boundaries, especially when those boundaries involved you.

"so, you're here every tuesday?" the dancer asked, his voice echoing in the quiet room. "maybe i could take you to that cafe downstairs after we wrap? i heard their lattes are actually decent. or, you know, we could always go anywhere else, too."

minho didn't wait for you to answer. he pushed off the wall, his sneakers squeaking sharply against the wood floor. the sound was intentional.

he didn't say a word as he walked over. he simply stepped into your space, sliding his arm around your waist and pulling you back against his chest. it wasn't a gentle hug; it was a firm, grounding weight that made it very clear where you belonged.

the dancer jumped slightly, his eyes widening as he looked up—and up—at minho.

"she’s busy," minho said. his voice was flat, devoid of any emotion, which was always when he was the most dangerous. he didn't look at the guy; he just stared at your reflection in the mirror across the room, his chin resting lightly on your shoulder.

"oh, i—we were just talking about coffee," the guy stammered, his confidence evaporating under minho’s cold gaze.

"get your own coffee," minho replied, his tone clipped. "and get back to the floor. chan wants to run the bridge again in five minutes. don't be late."

it was a dismissal, plain and simple. the guy scrambled away, practically tripping over his own feet to get to the other side of the room.

the second he was gone, minho’s grip relaxed slightly, but he didn't let go. he turned you around in his arms, his expression still unreadable, though his ears were tinged with a faint, stubborn pink.

"you're scary when you do that," you whispered, reaching up to smooth the stray hairs on his forehead.

"i wasn't doing anything," he mumbled, looking away. "he was just annoying. talking too much."

"he was just asking for coffee, minnie."

minho’s eyes flicked back to yours, sharp and intense. "i don't care what he was asking for. he was touching you. i don't like it."

he let out a small, frustrated huff, his fingers digging into the fabric of your hoodie. minho wasn't big on emotional confessions, but in the quiet of the studio, with the rest of the members occupied at the far end, he let the mask slip just a fraction.

"i know i’m difficult," he said, his voice dropping so low you had to lean in to hear him. "i know i don't say the right things all the time. but you're mine. and i’m not good at sharing."

it was the closest you’d get to an 'i love you' in a moment like this—a raw, possessive honesty that felt more real than any flowery speech.

"i'm not going anywhere," you promised, leaning your head against his chest. "you know that."

"i do," he whispered, finally letting a small, smug smirk tug at the corner of his mouth. he pressed a quick, firm kiss to the top of your head before pulling away, his usual cool exterior snapping back into place. "now go sit down. you’re distracting me, and if i mess up this choreo, i’m blaming you."

he swatted your shoulder playfully, ushering you back to the bench, but as he walked back to the center of the floor, he caught the eye of the new dancer.

minho didn't say anything, but the look he gave him—cold, steady, and utterly territorial—made sure the kid didn't look your way for the rest of the afternoon.

CHANGBIN

the gym was mostly empty, the rhythmic thud of weights hitting the rubber mats the only thing breaking the silence. changbin loved this time of night—the overhead lights were dimmed, and he could actually breathe without people hovering.

he was currently finishing a set on the bench press, his muscles strained and glistening under the low light, while you sat nearby on a weight bench, scrolling through your phone and occasionally cheering him on.

everything was fine until a guy from the late-shift training staff wandered over. he was big, almost as big as changbin, and he had that swagger of someone who knew exactly how much he could lift.

"hey, mind if i hop in for a set?" the guy asked, but he wasn't looking at changbin. he was looking at you.

changbin sat up, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. he didn't miss the way the trainer’s eyes dragged over you, or the way he puffed out his chest a little more as he stepped into your peripheral vision.

"just finished," changbin said, his voice coming out a bit rougher than usual. he didn't stand up yet; he just sat there, arms resting on his knees, watching.

"cool, cool," the guy said, turning fully toward you. "i haven't seen you around here before. you a member or just lucky enough to watch the show?" he flashed a grin that was clearly meant to be charming, leaning one hand against the rack right next to your head.

you looked up, giving him a small, polite nod. "i'm just waiting for him to finish."

"well, if you ever get bored of waiting, i'm usually here around this time. i could show you a few things. you look like you've got good potential for some real strength training." he chuckled, his voice dropping into a lower register.

he didn't move his hand. he stayed leaning over you, his shadow completely covering where you sat.

changbin didn't say anything at first. he just stood up. slow. deliberate.

when changbin stood, he looked massive. the pump from his workout made him look twice his usual size, and the intensity in his dark eyes was enough to make the air in the room feel heavy. he walked over, not stopping until he was standing directly behind you, his presence looming like a mountain.

he didn't shove the guy. he didn't have to. he just reached out and placed a heavy, solid hand on the back of your neck, his fingers tangling slightly in your hair. it was a grounding, heavy touch—one that claimed every inch of the space around you.

"she’s good," changbin said, his voice a low, dangerous rumble that seemed to vibrate in the floorboards. "she’s got the best trainer in the city. she doesn't need another one."

mark’s smile faltered. he looked at changbin, then at the way changbin’s hand was draped over you, his thick arm practically acting as a barrier. the power dynamic in the room shifted instantly.

"oh, yeah, no doubt," he stammered, taking a half-step back. "just being friendly, man. no harm meant."

"right. friendly," changbin repeated, his voice dry. he didn't blink. he just stared until the guy started to look physically uncomfortable. "we're done here anyway. go ahead and take the bench. it’s all yours."

mark didn't stay to chat. he muttered something about a good workout and practically scrambled to the other side of the gym.

changbin let out a sharp, hot breath. the tension in his jaw didn't fade immediately. he looked down at you, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw, his expression a mix of irritation and something softer that he tried to hide behind a scowl.

"you're all red," you teased gently, reaching up to touch his arm. "was he that bothering?"

changbin grunted, finally sitting back down next to you, though he kept his arm draped over your shoulders, pulling you firmly against his side. "i don't like it. i don't like the way he was hovering. like he was waiting for me to look away for one second."

"binnie, i wasn't going to go anywhere with him."

he looked at his lap, his fingers subconsciously flexing. "i know that. i do. but..." he trailed off, his voice losing its aggressive edge and turning into something much more vulnerable. "it’s just... i work so hard to be strong, to be someone you can rely on. and then some guy walks up and acts like he can just talk to you like that? it pisses me off."

he turned his head, burying his face in the crook of your neck for a second, his breath hot against your skin. changbin was all bravado and muscle on the outside, but with you, he was always just a guy who was terrified of losing the one thing that made him feel soft.

"i know, i know. i'm selfish," he mumbles against your skin. "i want everyone to know that you're with me. i want them to see me and realize they don't even have a chance. is that bad?"

"it's not bad," you whispered, leaning your head against his. "it's just you. it's also, like... really hot."

he pulled back, a small, genuine smile finally breaking through the scowl. he leaned in, pressing a hard, lingering kiss to your temple before standing up and pulling you with him.

"come on," he said, his voice back to its usual confident tone, though he didn't let go of your hand. "let’s go get food. if i stay here any longer, i'm going to end up staring that guy down until he quits his job."

he led you out of the gym, his chest puffed out just a little bit more than usual, his grip on your hand tight and unshakable. he walked you to the car, and even as he opened the door for you, he shot one last look back at the gym windows—just to make sure the message had been received.

HYUNJIN

the gallery was hushed, the kind of quiet that made you feel like you had to whisper even if you weren't saying anything important. the walls were covered in abstract pieces that looked like explosions of color, and you were currently squinting at one particularly confusing canvas. you couldn't tell if it was supposed to be a sunset over the ocean or just a very vibrant bowl of fruit.

hyunjin had wandered off a moment ago to look at a charcoal sketch in the far corner, leaving you to your own devices. usually, he walked right beside you, his hand resting in the small of your back, murmuring his own interpretations into your ear. those were your favorite moments—hearing him talk about brushstrokes and color theory in that soft, passionate way of his. it was the best way to spend a date.

"it’s the duality of existence, don't you think?"

you blinked, snapping out of your thoughts as a random guy stepped into your space. he was dressed in a turtleneck that looked way too tight and was holding a brochure like it was a holy text. he didn't wait for you to respond before he kept going, leaning in closer than necessary.

"the artist is clearly grappling with the fleeting nature of light," he said, gesturing vaguely at the red splotch you thought might be a cherry. "most people just see the surface, but i bet you have an eye for this sort of depth. i can tell by the way you’re looking at it. you have that... artistic soul."

you bit the inside of your cheek, trying desperately not to laugh. you didn't have an artistic soul; you were just wondering if the painter had been hungry when they made this. "oh, i'm not sure," you murmured, stepping back an inch. "i was just—"

"no, don't be modest," he interrupted, flashing a practiced, flirty grin. "i could spend the whole afternoon explaining the subtext of this wing to you. a girl like you shouldn't be wandering around such complex work without a guide."

he reached out, his hand hovering near your waist as if he were going to guide you toward the next painting.

"she already has a guide."

the voice was cool, smooth, and laced with a sharp underlying tension. you didn't even have to turn around to know hyunjin was back.

hyunjin didn't look at the guy at first. he kept his eyes on the painting, but his hand found yours instantly, his long fingers sliding between yours and squeezing tight. he didn't just hold your hand; he anchored you to him.

"actually," hyunjin said, finally turning his head to look at the man. his gaze was icy, his dark eyes narrowed in a way that made him look incredibly intimidating despite his beautiful features. "it’s not about the duality of existence. it’s a study on chaos. and she doesn't need you to explain depth to her."

the guy blinked, taken aback by the sudden shift in atmosphere. "i was just offering some insight—"

"your insight is unsolicited," hyunjin cut him off, his voice dropping to that low, velvety tone he used when he was genuinely annoyed. he stepped closer to you, his shoulder brushing yours, effectively erasing any gap the other man could have filled. "and your subtext is wrong. maybe read the artist's statement before you try to impress someone else’s girlfriend."

it was a total shut-down. the guy’s face turned a mottled red, his mouth opening and closing like a fish before he muttered something about "just being nice" and scurried off toward the sculpture garden.

hyunjin didn't watch him go. he turned to you immediately, his expression shifting from cold to pouting in a split second. he let out a dramatic sigh, dropping his forehead against your shoulder.

"i leave you alone for two minutes," he complained, his voice muffled. "two minutes, and someone is already trying to guide you."

"he was just being annoying, jinnie," you laughed, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair. "i was fine."

"he was touching your space," hyunjin muttered, pulling back to look at you. his eyes were still a little stormy, his jaw set in a stubborn line. he reached out, adjusting your scarf even though it was perfectly fine, just so he could have an excuse to touch you. "i don't like it. i don't like the way he was looking at you like you were part of the exhibit.”

he wrapped both arms around your waist then, pulling you flush against him right there in the middle of the gallery. hyunjin was always a bit dramatic, a bit more sensitive to the energy around him, and when he felt someone overstepping with you, he became incredibly territorial.

"you’re mine to explain paintings to," he whispered, his lips brushing your ear. "i’m the only one who gets to see your 'artistic soul,' okay?"

you smiled, leaning back into his embrace. "okay. so, what is this one actually about then, mr. expert?"

hyunjin looked at the painting again—the one you thought was fruit. he went quiet for a second, his head tilting as he studied it. "honestly?" he whispered. "i think it’s a bowl of fruit. but i’m going to keep pretending it’s deep so we look more sophisticated than that guy."

you burst out laughing, and he joined you, his jealous mood finally melting away into that bright, beautiful smile you loved. he didn't let go of your hand for the rest of the day, leading you through the halls with his fingers locked firmly in yours, making sure everyone knew exactly who you were with.

HAN

the arcade was a chaotic mess of neon lights and overlapping synth music, exactly the kind of place jisung loved. you were currently focused on a racing game, your hands tight on the plastic steering wheel as you tried to beat the high score. jisung had gone to the counter to trade in a stack of tickets for some candy, leaving you alone at the machines for just a few minutes.

you were doing pretty well until a guy leaned against the side of your console. he was wearing a leather jacket and had a smirk that suggested he thought he was the best thing in the room.

"you’re taking that turn all wrong," he said, loud enough to be heard over the game’s sound effects. "you gotta drift earlier if you want the boost."

you didn't look up, eyes glued to the screen. "i'm doing fine, thanks."

"i'm just saying. i've got the top score on this cabinet," he continued, completely ignoring your brush-off. he shifted closer, his arm brushing against yours as he pointed at the screen. "here, let me show you. move over a bit and i'll handle the pedals for you."

the suggestion was weird and way too personal. you felt a surge of annoyance, but before you could tell him to get lost, a familiar presence appeared on your other side.

jisung didn't say anything at first. he just leaned in, dropping a heavy bag of sour candy onto the dash of the machine, right between you and the stranger. he didn't look like his usual hyper, joking self. his shoulders were tense, and his eyes were fixed on the guy with a look that was uncharacteristically sharp.

"she doesn't need help," jisung said. his voice wasn't loud, but it had a sudden, firm authority to it.

the guy blinked, looking jisung up and down. "just giving some tips, man. don't get worked up."

jisung stepped into the gap, effectively pushing the guy back by a few inches just by claiming the space. he draped an arm over your shoulders, pulling you into his side so tightly that you had to let go of the wheel.

"she's winning," jisung noted, his voice dropping into that lower, slightly raspier tone he got when he was feeling protective. "and she’s winning without you hovering over her. so unless you’re planning on playing the machine next door, find somewhere else to hang out."

the guy looked like he wanted to argue, but the sheer, focused energy coming off jisung was enough to make him think twice. jisung wasn't the biggest guy in the room, but when he was set on protecting something, he had a way of making the air around him feel electric.

"whatever," the guy muttered, pushing off the machine and disappearing into the crowd near the air hockey tables.

the second he was out of sight, jisung’s posture deflated. he let out a long, shaky breath, burying his face in your shoulder for a second. he was still holding onto you like you were the only thing keeping him upright.

"hanji? you okay?" you asked, leaning your head against his.

"i hate idiots like him," he whispered, his voice muffled by your jacket. "idiots that act like they can just walk up and touch you. my heart started doing that weird thing where it feels like it’s vibrating."

you turned in his arms, seeing the faint flush on his cheeks. jisung dealt with a lot of anxiety, but when it came to you, his protective instincts usually managed to override his nerves—even if he felt the crash immediately afterward.

"you handled it perfectly," you said, reaching up to cup his face. "you were very cool."

jisung let out a small, embarrassed laugh, his eyes finally meeting yours. "i didn't feel cool. i felt like i was going to vibrate out of my skin. but then i saw him leaning on you and i just... i couldn't stay over at the counter. i don't like people in your bubble. that’s my bubble."

he pouted slightly, his thumb tracing the hem of your shirt. "i'm not good at the whole tough guy thing, but i really don't want anyone else thinking they can take my spot. is that too much?"

"no," you smiled, pulling him into a hug. "it's not too much."

jisung squeezed you back, his chin resting on your head. he stayed like that for a long moment, letting the noise of the arcade ground him again.

"okay," he said, pulling back with a sudden, forced burst of his usual energy, though he didn't let go of your hand. "now, move over. i'm going to beat your score and then i'm going to buy you a stuffed quokka with the rest of these tickets so everyone knows you’re taken by the best gamer in this building."

"i don't know if they'll have quokkas," you giggle.

"a squirrel, then!"

he spent the rest of the night glued to your side, his hand either in yours or resting on the small of your back, making sure that anyone who even looked in your direction knew exactly who you were with.

FELIX

the beach was beautiful, the salt air thick and warm as the sun began its slow dip toward the horizon. you were lounging on a wide striped towel, the sand still warm beneath you, while the sound of the waves provided a steady, rhythmic soundtrack. felix had been sitting with you for hours, his laughter ringing out every time a seagull got too close to your snacks, but he’d headed up to the boardwalk restrooms a few minutes ago.

you were closing your eyes, soaking in the last bit of the afternoon heat, when you felt the sand shift beside you.

"hey there. you look a little lonely for such a nice day."

you didn't notice the guy walking toward you until the sun was blocked out, casting a long shadow over your face. you squinted up, expecting to see felix, but it was someone else—a guy in board shorts with a surfboard tucked under his arm. he sat right down on the edge of your towel, kicking a bit of sand onto your book in the process.

"i'm fine, thanks," you said, sitting up and pulling your knees to your chest to create some distance. "my boyfriend just went to grab something."

the guy laughed, a slow, easy sound that felt entirely too confident. "boyfriend, huh? well, he's a lucky guy to leave someone like you alone on my beach. i’m a local—lived here my whole life. i know all the hidden spots, the ones the tourists don't know about. if you ever want a real tour of the coast, i could show you around."

he leaned back on his elbows, encroaching further into your space. his name rolls off his tongue, smooth and confident. too confident. "and... you are?"

"not interested," you replied, your voice firm, but he didn't seem to take the hint. he just grinned, looking you up and down in a way that made you feel exposed.

"come on, don't be like that. just a friendly offer from a local."

"she said she isn't interested."

the voice didn't sound like the felix most people knew. it wasn't the bright, bubbly tone you normally heard from him. it was deep—unnervingly deep—and it carried the weight of the ocean behind it.

felix was standing a few feet away, his silhouette sharp against the setting sun. he was wearing an open linen shirt and shorts, his blonde hair tousled by the wind, but his expression was anything but breezy. he looked down at the surfer with a cold, steady gaze that made the guy’s smile falter instantly.

felix didn't wait for a response. he walked over and stepped directly between you and the stranger, effectively shielding you with his body. he sat down right in the middle of the towel, his back to the guy, and pulled you into his lap. his arms wrapped around you, his chin hooking over your shoulder as he locked eyes with the surfer.

"you’re sitting on our towel," felix said. his voice was a low vibration against your back, the kind of sub-bass that you felt in your bones. "and you’re bothering her."

the surfer cleared his throat, suddenly looking much smaller than he had a moment ago. "man, i was just talking. no need to get aggressive."

"i'm not being aggressive," felix countered, his tone clipped and icy. "i’m telling you to leave. now. take your board and get out of here."

the guy scrambled up, grabbing his board and muttering something about "crazy tourists" before jogging off toward the water.

the second he was gone, the tension in felix’s frame snapped. he let out a jagged breath, his grip on you tightening. he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his nose cold against your skin. he didn't move for a long time, just held you there while the waves crashed in the distance.

"lixie? you okay?" you whispered, reaching back to stroke his hair.

"no," he murmured, his voice muffled. "i wasn't even gone for that long. what a dipshit. can't even take no for an answer."

he pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes searching yours. the usual spark was replaced by a raw, protective vulnerability. felix was usually the sweetest person you knew, but he had a territorial streak that came out whenever he felt like your safety or comfort was being threatened.

"i don't like being that guy," he admitted, his thumb tracing your bottom lip. "the one who gets all possessive and weird. but when i see someone looking at you like that... like you're just something for them to win... it makes me feel like i’m losing my mind."

he sighed, his forehead dropping against yours. "i want to be the sunshine for you, always. but i’ll be the storm too, if i have to. i just want you to be safe."

you smiled, pulling his face closer to yours. "i’m always safe with you, baby. you don't have to worry. besides, it's very sexy."

his expression finally softened, a tiny, shy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. he pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your nose before leaning back, though he kept you tucked firmly under his arm.

"good," he whispered. "because i’m not leaving your side for the rest of the night. we’re staying right here until the sun is completely gone."

he spent the rest of the evening exactly like that—glued to you, his hand never leaving yours, watching the horizon with a quiet, steady gaze that made it very clear to anyone passing by exactly who you belonged to.

SEUNGMIN

the bookstore was quiet, smelling of old paper and vanilla coffee. it was the kind of place where seungmin could spend hours, his eyes scanning spines with a focused intensity that you always found endearing. he’d spotted a specific edition of a poetry book he’d been hunting for and had disappeared into the back corner of the store, leaving you in the "new releases" section.

you were standing there, tilting your head at a row of thrillers, not exactly sure what you were looking for. you picked one up, reading the jacket blurb, when a guy stepped up beside you.

"that one’s a bit overhyped, honestly."

you looked over to see a guy who looked like he spent a lot of time in libraries—thick glasses, a slightly pretentious hoodie, and an air of confidence that felt a bit forced. he was leaning against the bookshelf, blocking your view of the next row.

"the pacing is all off in the second act," he continued, not waiting for you to ask. "if you want something with actual literary merit, you should be looking at the historical fiction section. i could walk you over there and give you some recommendations. a lot of people struggle with picking the right novel."

you gave a small, awkward laugh. "oh, i’m sure it’s fine. i just liked the cover."

"style over substance," he sighed, shaking his head with a condescending smile. "typical. look, i’ve got a pretty curated list of must-reads. if you give me your number, i can send you a few titles that are actually worth your time."

he leaned in a little closer, his hand reaching out as if to take the book from your hand to put it back on the shelf.

"she’s keeping that one."

seungmin’s voice was like a cold splash of water. it was sharp, precise, and completely devoid of his usual playful teasing. he appeared at your side, not with a flourish, but with a steady, quiet presence that immediately shifted the air in the aisle.

he didn't look at the guy at first. instead, he tucked the poetry book he’d found under his arm and reached out, taking the thriller from your hand and looking at the cover.

"it has a 4.2 rating on most platforms, and the prose is noted for being accessible yet punchy," seungmin said, his tone incredibly dry as he looked at the stranger. "but i’m sure your... curated list is much more impressive."

the guy blinked, his face flushing. "i was just offering some help. she seemed a bit lost."

"she isn't lost," seungmin replied. he didn't raise his voice, but there was a biting edge to it—the seungmin that the members were always wary of. he stepped into the space between you and the guy, his shoulder subtly pushing the stranger back an inch. "and if she wants a recommendation, she’ll ask someone who actually knows her taste. which isn't you."

the guy opened his mouth to say something, but seungmin just raised an eyebrow, his gaze steady and unimpressed. he looked like he was ready to dismantle the guy’s entire personality with a single sentence. the stranger clearly decided it wasn't worth the effort, turning and disappearing into the biography section.

the second he was gone, seungmin let out a quiet scoff. he didn't move away, though. he stayed right in your space, his hand sliding down to grip your wrist gently, his thumb rubbing against your pulse point.

"you were going to let him talk for ten more minutes, weren't you?" he asked, looking down at you. his ears were red, a tell-tale sign that he was much more bothered than he was letting on.

"i was just trying to be polite, min."

"you're too polite," he mumbled, his grip on your wrist tightening just a fraction before he pulled you closer to his side. "he was being a condescending prick. and he was trying to get your number right in front of me. well, almost in front of me."

seungmin let out a frustrated sigh, looking back at the shelf. he wasn't usually the type to make a scene, but when it came to you, his patience for other people was non-existent. he was territorial in a very intellectual, sharp way—he didn't like anyone acting like they knew you better than he did.

"i'm the only one who gets to recommend books to you," he said, his voice dropping to a softer, more private murmur. "because i’m the only one who knows you hate sad endings and that you always skip the middle of long descriptions. i don't need some guy in a scarf trying to fuckin' curate your life."

you smiled, leaning your head against his arm. "are you jealous, kim seungmin?"

"i'm observant," he corrected, though he couldn't hide the small, smug smile that touched his lips when you didn't pull away. "and i don't like people hovering. especially when they’re wrong about the pacing of that thriller. it’s actually very well-regarded."

he led you toward the checkout counter, his hand sliding down to lock fingers with yours. he didn't let go, even when he had to pay, making sure he was positioned between you and the rest of the store. as you walked out, he tucked the bag under his arm and pulled you closer.

"next time," he said, "just tell them you’re with a very mean singer who has no problem being rude in a quiet shop."

"i think they got the message," you teased.

"good," he whispered, pressing a quick, firm kiss to your temple. "they were supposed to."

I.N.

the night market was a blur of neon signs, the smell of spicy rice cakes, and the constant roar of a thousand different conversations. it was loud, crowded, and exactly the kind of place where you could lose someone in seconds.

jeongin had been holding your hand tightly the whole time, but he’d let go for just a moment to elbow his way through a crowd at a street food stall to grab the skewers you’d been eyeing.

you were waiting by a brightly lit claw machine, watching the mechanical arm fail to grab a plush bread roll, when a guy drifted over. he looked like he’d had a few drinks—not enough to be stumbling, but enough to be loud and way too confident.

"man, these things are a scam," he said, leaning his shoulder against the glass of the machine, effectively blocking your view. "you’re never gonna catch that. but hey, if you want something to take home, i’m right here."

you didn't even look at him, keeping your eyes on the joystick. "i'm just waiting for someone."

"he must be a slow guy to leave a girl like you standing in the middle of a crowd," he laughed, reaching out to tap the glass right in front of your face. he was hovering in your personal space, his shadow cutting off the light from the machine. "come on, let me buy you a drink instead of wasting your money on a toy. i know a spot just around the corner that’s way better than this mess."

you started to step away, but the crowd was thick behind you, trapping you between the machine and the stranger. "i said i'm waiting for someone. please move."

"don't be like that," he said, his hand moving as if to reach for your shoulder. "i'm just being—"

"she asked you to move."

jeongin appeared out of the crowd like he’d been launched from a cannon. he didn't look like the baby bread the fans joked about; he looked sharp, his feline eyes narrowed and his jaw set in a hard, uncompromising line. he stepped directly between you and the man, his shoulder knocking the guy back a couple of inches.

he didn't say it loudly, and he didn't make a scene, but the sheer coldness in jeongin’s voice was enough to make the air around you feel brittle. he stood his ground, his height and the sudden, intense presence he carried making him look much older than he was.

"hey, man, back off. we were just talking," the guy snapped, trying to regain his footing.

jeongin didn't flinch. he didn't even blink. he just reached back and grabbed your hand, his fingers interlacing with yours with a grip that was borderline bruising. "you were bothering her. she told you to move, and you didn't. so i'm telling you now. get lost before this becomes a bigger problem for you."

the man looked at jeongin—really looked at him—and saw the silent, icy resolve in his gaze. jeongin had a way of looking through people when he was angry, a sharp, piercing stare that made it clear he wasn't playing. the guy muttered a curse under his breath and disappeared back into the sea of people.

the second he was gone, jeongin turned to you. the "scary" version of him evaporated instantly, replaced by a look of pure, frantic worry. he dropped the skewers onto the ledge of the machine and took your face in both of his hands, his thumbs frantically brushing over your cheeks.

"are you okay? did he touch you? i was only gone for a minute, i shouldn't have let go of your hand," he rambled, his voice high and breathless. the adrenaline was still surging through him, making his hands shake just a little.

"innie, i'm all good. you got here before he could even do anything," you said, trying to calm him down.

jeongin let out a long, shaky exhale, leaning his forehead against yours. he closed his eyes, his hands sliding down to rest heavily on your shoulders. "this is crazy," he whispered. "some drunk bastard thinks that he can... that's crazy."

he pulled you into a crushing hug, burying his face in your neck. jeongin was usually the one being pampered by the older members, but when it came to you, he had this fierce, almost desperate need to be the protector. he hated being seen as "young" or "harmless" when it mattered most.

his grip tightening, he mutters against your skin; "i don't want anyone to look at us and think they can just take you away because i’m not enough to keep them back. you’re mine. i need them to know that."

he pulled back, his ears bright red but his eyes steady. he reached down, grabbed the food, and then locked his fingers with yours again—this time, he didn't just hold your hand; he held it like his life depended on it.

"we’re going home," he said firmly, though a shy, dimpled smile finally managed to peek through his serious expression. "and next time, if you want skewers, we’re going together. i’m not letting go of you for the rest of the night."

he led you out of the market, navigating the crowd with a new, confident stride, his shoulder always positioned to block you from anyone else’s view.

[starlostjisung]

the christmas round

pairing: ot8 x 9th!member reader

genre: smut

wc: 28.4k

warnings: unprotected sex; fingering; handjob; oral sex (f!receiving); dirty talk; praising; dry humping; orgasm denial; edging; begging; squirting; mirror sex; spit kink; reader is a switch (and a superwoman because omg)

summary: after the first time, the boys argued about who would be the one to give you the biggest orgasm, and you all came to the same conclusion: they all have to have a turn with you

day 25 of The 25 Days of Stay

part of the wheel of pleasure series

a/n: THE WHEEL IS BACK MY LOVES 🥳 and also i can't believe this is the last fic of my christmas event so THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL YOUR LOVE AND SUPPORT I HOPE YOU LOVED IT AS MUCH AS I DID 🩷

a/n2: i edited and proofread it quickly, so there might be some mistakes and notes to myself that i write while editing (like "change this part" or "add this here" or "continue with this") that i missed, so if you see them... no you didn't (joking 😊)

it’s christmas morning, and the dorm feels warmer and livelier than it usually does. maybe it’s because all eight boys are here and piled into the living room, blankets everywhere, holiday music playing too loud, and a lot of gifts surrounding all of you. you drop down between them, still half-asleep, and someone immediately hands you a mug of hot chocolate.

“merry christmas”, chan says, his dimples showing, his hair a mess. 

the others echo him in different versions - deeper voices, half-mumbled voices, excited ones. you all open your gifts together, taking turns, teasing each other, laughing when hyunjin dramatically gasps over his gift like it’s the end of the world. 

minho pretends he doesn’t like the cat-themed socks you got him, but he doesn’t let anyone else touch them. seungmin sits close enough that your knees bump every time he shifts. felix keeps smiling at you every time you unwrap something, like he’s waiting for your reaction. 

it’s easy, comfortable. soft laughter, jokes here and then and eight pairs of eyes that linger on you a little longer than normal. you feel it. the unspoken thing. the aware thing. the thing you’ve all been dancing around for months.

when the last gift is opened, everyone relaxes, sitting back, just enjoying the christmas morning and seeing everyone’s gifts. when the room turns into a gentle space, you slip away with a quiet “i’ll be right back” that no one questions, they just watch you go.

you close your bedroom door behind you and take a breath, letting the silence settle. then, you reach under your bed and pull out the small box you hid there a week ago. the last gift - not exactly for you only, it’s for them too, or at least for the one that gets to take it off of you.

the set is lace, delicate, detailed, undeniably meant for being seen, admired, desired. you run your fingers over it, nerves fluttering in your stomach, excitement warming your skin. you already had a taste of this some time ago, but you need more. you need all of them. just like they need you. 

when you put it on, the air in the room changes. the lace settles against your skin like it was made only for you, soft and delicate in a way that makes you shiver when you adjust the straps. you take a slow breath and move to the mirror, the reflection hitting you all at once.

the set hugs every curve, tracing the lines of your body with thin, teasing patterns that leave just enough to the imagination. the colour warms your skin, makes your figure look softer in some places, sharper in others. 

you look… unreal.

not the idol version of yourself, not the “ninth member” everyone sees on stage, but the version of you that’s been simmering quietly underneath, waiting for the right moment to step forward. confident. irresistible. someone who knows exactly what she’s offering and exactly how much they’re going to want it. 

heat blooms in your chest as you take yourself in. you feel powerful and undeniably desired, even before any of the boys has seen you.

you smooth the lace one more time and open your door.

the moment you walk into the living room and they look up, the atmosphere shifts. eight heads turn at once. eight mouths fall open, like the words they need simply won’t come out. their eyes widen, soft gasps break the quiet, and suddenly the room is still, completely, utterly still.

changbin actually forgets how to blink. chan sits up straighter. felix’s freckles seem to darken as his face goes red. seungmin swallows hard enough that you hear it. you don’t know which reaction turns you on more.

you walk forward slowly, each step deliberate. every pair of eyes follows you like they’re caught, like it’s the only thing they can do.

“so”, you say, your voice steady and confident, “are you ready for your next gift?”

none of them answer. they can’t. they just stare, completely undone, as you bite your lip. you can’t lie and say you’re not enjoying the effect you have on them.

“use that damn wheel to decide the order”, you say, amusement threading through your voice, “you already know what we’re gonna do”

you let the words hang in the air, thick with meaning, and then, you turn around, walk back to your bedroom, and close the door behind you. you sit on the edge of the bed, then lie back slowly, sinking into the pillows, your heart beating in a steady, excited rhythm.

you lie there, waiting for whichever one of them the wheel chooses first. you let your fingers rest lightly on your stomach, following the lace’s outline as your thoughts drift, uninvited, to the last time you all played this game. 

the memory settles over you slowly, warm and breathless. the way they looked at you that night comes back vividly. the hesitation, the tension. you remember the way they hovered close during each of their turns with you, their voices dropping, their eyes flicking to you like they couldn’t help themselves. the way your name sounded when spoken from different mouths, different tones. the way all of them teased you, the way all of them made you come again and again.

that same feeling stirs now as you feel yourself getting wet, a quiet anticipation that settles low and warm, buzzing under your skin. last time was completely new, this time you know what you’re playing with, or at least you think you do.

and you don’t know if that’s a good thing or not. 

the anticipation pushes you upright before you realise you’re moving. you stand and walk towards the mirror, drawn to your own reflection. you tilt your head, checking the angle, the lines, the way your hair falls over your shoulders. your heartbeat ticks louder at the sight of yourself, at the knowledge of what’s coming.

and that’s when you hear it, the soft click of your door unlocking.

you turn just as it opens. hyunjin steps inside and the door clicks shut behind him. his eyes are fixed on you immediately, like he can’t look anywhere else even if he tries. just like the last time, he’s wearing nothing but his boxers. his hair is slightly messy and his breath unsteady like he ran here the second the wheel stopped.

you smile, slow and knowing, letting your fingers rest on your hip, accentuating the lace. 

“hi”, you say, your voice soft but unmistakably teasing.

his eyes flick up to yours, dark, warm, hungry, already undone. 

“you’re… you’re kidding”, he says, taking a step closer to you without realising it, “you look even better than last time, i-”, he cuts himself off, his jaw flexing, his breath catching as he takes in the full view, closer this time.

you take a single step towards him, stopping just close enough for him to feel the heat of your body.

“i see the wheel picked you first again, hyunjin”, you say, tilting your head. 

he lets out a quiet, shaky laugh, rubbing his palm against the back of his neck. 

“yeah, i didn’t even wait for the others to react. i just-”, his eyes trail down and back up, slow, “you look unreal, y/n. seriously. i don’t… i don’t even know where to look”

you raise a brow, amused, “everywhere is an option”

he swallows hard, audibly.

“you’re doing this on purpose”, he says, stepping even closer, “standing here, looking like this”

“of course i am”, you say, letting your fingers trace lightly down your body, the lace shifting with the movement, “isn’t that how a gift works?”

he breathes out a curse under his breath, running a hand through his hair as if he’s trying to stop himself from grabbing you immediately.

“you’re gonna kill me”, he says, his voice low and desperate.

you lean in just a little, close enough that your lips brush his jaw, “we should have some fun first”

his breath stutters, he’s helplessly wrecked by the suggestion. you pull back half a step, just enough to watch his reaction, his eyes staying fixed on your body. he doesn’t know what to say, he can’t find the words, so you continue.

“okay then…”, you say, your voice low, teasing, “come and get your gift”

his mouth meets yours before you can say anything else, kissing you like he’s been holding back since the last time you did this. his hands move to your waist, pulling you flush against him, and the moan he lets out when your bodies touch goes straight through you.

you kiss him back just as eagerly, your hands sliding up his bare shoulders, feeling the heat of his skin under your palms. he shivers when your fingertips brush the nape of his neck, and his lips part against yours, deepening the kiss instantly.

his hand glides up your back, tracing the curves of your body, tracing the new lace with his fingers. when his thumb strokes just under the edge of it, his breath catches against your mouth.

“you’re seriously trying to kill me”, he says between kisses, his voice warm and ragged.

“maybe”, you say, letting your lips brush the corner of his jaw before returning to his mouth, kissing him harder.

he groans and his other hand cups your jaw, angling your face up to him. his kiss turns deeper, firmer, like he wants to devour every sound you make.

you feel his chest rise sharply against yours, the heat of him bleeding through the thin lace and the thinner air between you. he moves you back a step, then another, until your spine meets the dresser in your room. 

your fingers tangle in his hair, and he breaks the kiss just long enough to look at you. his lips are parted, slightly swollen, his eyes dark and blown wide.

“you look so good like this”, he says, “in that lace, like you’re waiting for me to do something”

you lean in, your lips ghosting his, teasing him.

“then don’t keep me waiting”

and that’s all it takes. 

he kisses you again, harder this time, his body pressing against yours, his breath mixing with yours, his hands roaming with growing urgency as the room fills with the sound of shared, shaky breaths and your lips meeting again and again, deeper each time.

his mouth trails down to your jaw, then to your neck. his hands slide up your sides again, his fingers tracing the lace until they find the clasp of your bra. the pads of his fingers brush your skin, sending a sharp tremor through your chest. he feels it and a soft, breathy laugh escapes him.

“you’re shaking”, he says, almost proud.

“you’re the one doing that”, you say.

his smile curves, small and wicked. the clasp gives easily under his touch, and he slides the straps off your shoulders one at a time. when the bra finally falls away, his hands move to your waist, his thumbs stroking circles against your skin, drawing you closer as he leans in again, kissing you harder, deeper.

“now”, he whispers against your lips, his voice thick, “let me really look at my gift”

his gaze drops, taking in the sight of you bare from the waist up. your breasts rise and fall with each quick breath, your nipples already hardening under the cool air and the heat of his stare. 

hyunjin’s eyes darken, a low hum vibrating in his throat as he leans in closer. his lips find your neck again, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin, his teeth grazing lightly at first, then nipping harder, leaving faint red marks that make you gasp.

“fuck, you’re gonna be such a good girl for me, i just know it”, he says against your pulse point, his tongue flicking out to soothe the bite before he sucks harder, drawing a whimper from your lips. 

his hands slide up your sides, his hands cupping your breasts now, his thumbs brushing over your nipples in firm circles that send jolts straight to your core. you arch into his touch, your body begging for more as he pinches one nipple between his fingers. he pulls back just enough to watch your face, his breath hot on your collarbone. 

“you are perfect”, he says, his voice husky, before he lowers his mouth. 

he takes one nipple into his mouth, sucking hard while his tongue swirls around the tip. your hands fly to his hair, your fingers tangling in it as you tug lightly, the pull making him groan against your skin. he switches to the other breast, sucking, biting until your knees weaken and your cunt throbs with need.

“hyunjin”, you say, the sound half plea, half moan, as he bites down just hard enough to sting, then soothes it with a flat lick of his tongue. 

he looks up at you through his lashes, his eyes gleaming with mischief and hunger, his lips shiny from your skin. 

“you like that? my teeth on you?”, he asks you, pinching both nipples now, twisting gently to draw out another sharp gasp.

“yes, oh god, yes”, you say, your hips moving restlessly. 

the lace of your panties clings damply to your folds, the friction teasing but not enough. his hands trail down your ribs, over your hips, hooking into the waistband of your panties but not pulling yet. instead, he sinks to his knees in front of you, the movement graceful and predatory, his face level with your stomach now.

hyunjin’s hands grip your thighs, spreading them slightly as he presses kisses along your abdomen, his lips soft at first, then firmer, his tongue dipping into your navel before trailing lower. 

“so pretty, like this for me, because i’m the only one that gets to take this off of you”, he says, nuzzling the skin just above your panties, his breath ghosting over the lace and making you shiver. 

he kisses down one thigh, his teeth scraping the inner skin, then the other, alternating sides until your legs tremble and you’re gripping the dresser for support. looking up at you, his eyes lock onto yours, intense and unwavering. 

“keep your eyes on me”, he says, more like orders you, his fingers tracing the edge of the lace where it meets your hip. 

he leans in, his lips brushing the fabric right over your clit, kissing the damp material as if it’s your skin itself. the pressure makes your clit pulse, and you moan, the sound echoing in the room. he smiles against you, then parts his lips, sucking the lace into his mouth, his tongue pressing through to lap at your folds indirectly.

“f-fuck- hyunjin”, you gasp, your hand moving to his shoulder, your nails digging in. 

he bites the fabric, tugging it with his teeth before releasing, the wet spot growing under his assault. his hands slide up your thighs, his thumbs hooking under the edges now, but he doesn’t remove them yet.

instead, he sucks harder on the lace, the outline of your cunt visible through the sheer material, his tongue flicking insistently until you’re rocking against his face, your moans spilling freely. your eyes stay on his as he watches you unravel. 

“you’re soaking through this”, he says, his voice muffled but smug, before biting the lace again. 

the friction makes you cry out, your hips bucking forward as pleasure coils tight in your stomach. he groans in response, the sound vibrating through the fabric to your core, his hands finally yanking the panties down your legs in one swift motion. you step out of them, kicking them aside, now fully exposed to him.

hyunjin doesn’t waste a second. still on his knees, he grips your ass, pulling you closer as his mouth dives in. his tongue flattens against your cunt, licking a long, slow stripe from your entrance to your clit, tasting your arousal with a hungry hum. 

“fuck, you have no idea… how hard it was for me last time”, he says, his eyes never leaving yours as he circles your clit with his tongue, then sucks it between his lips, “how much i wanted to have you like this but i couldn’t because i could only use my fucking fingers” 

your thighs shake, the dresser creaking under your weight as you lean back, but you force yourself to hold his gaze, the intimacy making every sensation sharper. he eats you out like he’s starved, his tongue thrusting into your hole before returning to lap at your clit, his lips sealing around it. 

one of his hands stays on your ass, his fingers digging in to hold you steady, while the other slides up your thigh, teasing your entrance with two fingers but not entering yet, just circling, gathering your wetness. 

“moan for me, y/n”, he says between licks, his voice rough, “let me hear how good this feels”

you do, the sounds pouring out as he devours you, his tongue flicking fast now, then slow and deep, his teeth grazing your clit just enough to make you jolt. pleasure builds relentlessly, your cunt clenching around nothing, so close to the edge that your vision blurs. 

“h-hyunjin… i-i’m gonna come”, you whine, your hips grinding against his mouth, chasing the release.

but then he stops, pulling his tongue away, his lips leaving your throbbing clit with a teasing kiss. he stays on his knees, breathing heavily, his eyes locked on yours with a wicked glint as your body hovers on the brink, denied and aching.

hyunjin stands up slowly, his hands trailing up your thighs. he moves closer, his chest brushing your breasts, your nipples grazing his skin. he cups your face and crashes his mouth against yours. the kiss is filthy, urgent, his tongue sweeping in, sharing the taste of your arousal mixed with his saliva. you moan into him, tasting yourself on his lips, making your cunt clench emptily.

“feel that?”, he says against your mouth, nipping your lower lip, “that’s you, all over me. so fucking wet for me” 

his words vibrate through you, and you nod, helpless, your hands clutching his shoulders, your nails scraping down his back. the kiss deepens, your tongues tangling as he devours you, one hand sliding into your hair to tug lightly, angling your head for better access.

he breaks away just enough to hoist you up, his arms lifting you effortlessly onto the dresser. it is cool against your ass, a stark contrast to the fire building inside. your legs part instinctively, wrapping around his waist, pulling him between your thighs. hyunjin groans at the contact, his cock straining against his boxers, rubbing against your slick folds through the fabric. 

“god, you’re desperate”, he says, his eyes half-lidded as he watches you squirm, “need me inside you already?”

“please”, you moan, your fingers threading through his hair now, tugging him back for another kiss. 

he nods, but his hand drifts lower, sliding between your legs. two fingers part your folds, teasing your entrance before pushing in slowly, curling inside you. you gasp into his mouth, the stretch amazing after his tongue, your hips rocking to meet his thrusts. he moves his fingers steadily, his thumb circling your clit in lazy loops, building the pressure again.

“fuck… you’re so tight”, he says, his other hand kneading your breast, pinching your nipple, “you’re gonna feel so good around my cock. you want that? want me to fuck you right here?” 

his fingers move, hitting that spot inside making you cry out, your legs tightening around him, your heels digging into his lower back.

“yes, f-fuck… hyunjin, fuck me”, you beg him, your voice breaking on a moan as he adds a third finger, stretching you further, his thumb pressing harder on your clit. 

the dresser rattles faintly with your movements, bottles falling, but you don’t care. he kisses down your jaw, sucking a mark into your neck while his fingers move faster, slick sounds filling the room alongside your breaths and moans. your hand slips from his hair to his neck, holding him close as pleasure coils tighter, but he senses you’re climbing too fast. 

“not yet”, he says, withdrawing his fingers, leaving you whining in protest. he smirks, bringing them to his mouth, sucking them clean while holding your gaze, “you taste as sweet as the last time, but i need to be inside you now”

he shoves his boxers down, freeing his cock. it springs out, thick and veined, the tip already leaking precum. you lick your lips at the sight, but he’s impatient, gripping your hip to line himself up. the head nudges your entrance, slicking through your wetness before he thrusts in, inch by inch, filling you completely.

“fuck… you’re so big”, you moan, your head falling back. 

your walls flutter around him, adjusting to the size, and he pauses, buried deep, his forehead pressed to yours. 

“you okay?”, he asks, his voice strained, his hand stroking your thigh.

“yeah, m-move”, you say, your legs locking tighter around his waist, pulling him even closer. 

he starts thrusting, his hips snapping against yours with building force. the dresser thuds against the wall, your breasts bouncing with each impact, and hyunjin’s mouth finds one nipple, sucking hard as he fucks you.

“like that, huh? my cock hitting deep?”, he says, releasing your nipple, his hand replacing his mouth to squeeze and roll the peak. 

you nod frantically, one hand in his hair, the other clawing at his neck, feeling his pulse race under your fingers. 

“moan louder, come on, let me hear you”, he says, angling his hips to grind against your clit with every thrust.

“hyunjin, oh god… so good”, you cry, the friction overwhelming, pleasure spiking as he rubs your clit with his thumb again, matching the rhythm of his cock. 

your cunt squeezes him, drawing a guttural groan from his throat. he kisses you messily, all teeth and tongue, swallowing your moans as he pounds harder, the slap of skin on skin echoing. your legs tremble around him, but you don’t let go. his free hand grips your ass, lifting you for better leverage, and the new angle makes him hit that spot relentlessly. 

“you’re clenching so tight… you’re gonna make me come”, he says, his breath ragged against your lips, his thrusts erratic now.

“together, p-please, come with me”, you say, your nails raking his scalp, pulling his hair just hard enough to make him hiss. 

he nods, capturing your mouth in a kiss, your tongues together as the coil snaps. your orgasm crashes over you, waves of heat pulsing through your core, as you moan into him.

hyunjin follows seconds later, burying himself deep with a choked groan, spilling hot inside you, his body shuddering against yours. you both pant, your foreheads touching, his cock twitching as he rides out the last pulses. slowly, he softens, but doesn’t pull out yet, holding you close, his hands gentle now on your breasts, his thumbs soothing your nipples.

“fuck, that was intense”, he murmurs, kissing your swollen lips softly, a lazy smile curving his mouth. you hum in agreement, your legs loosening but still draped around him.

he eases back just enough to look at you. his hands slip from your chest to your waist, steadying you as he takes one step away. when he slips out, a wet sound follows his movement, his cum dripping down your thigh. you shiver and he notices immediately.

“come here”, he says.

he bends, his arms sliding under your thighs and back, lifting you off the dresser. you curl into him on instinct, your hands resting against his shoulders as he carries you across the room. he lays you down on the bed with a tenderness that contrasts beautifully with how desperately he’d touched you seconds before.

a sheet slips over you when he pulls it up, warm against your skin, just like the last time. his eyes scan your face, checking every flicker, every breath.

“you okay?”, he asks softly, brushing a damp strand of hair away from your cheek.

you give him a small, satisfied smile, “i’m good. really, really good”

“you sure you’re ready for the rest? because well… they’re all waiting out there like it’s their turn at heaven, which now that i’ve had it… it really is”

you laugh quietly, your fingers grazing the back of his hand, “i’m good, i’m ready”

he dips down then, capturing your mouth in a kiss. you can tell that he wants more, that he’s still hungry for you, but he knows he has to let you go. his thumb strokes your jaw as his lips move with yours, deepening just a bit before he finally pulls back.

“i’ll send the next one in”, he whispers, letting his forehead rest against yours for a second longer, “and… good luck”

you roll your eyes playfully, “i think i’ll be okay”

his quiet laugh is warm and breathless. he gives your lips a quick peck, stands up, giving you one last long look before he puts his boxers on again. he goes to the door and opens it just enough to slip out and close it behind him.

silence settles.

you lie there, the sheet draped loosely over your bare body, the warmth of hyunjin still clinging to your skin. your pulse steadies, then builds again with anticipation. you stare up at the ceiling for a moment, catching your breath, letting it all sink in.

your mind drifts back to the last time you played this game, how different it felt then. the nerves. the newness. the way each of them had hesitated before you all started this.

this time, there’s no hesitation, only hunger and the echo of that night where one by one they’d left you shaking, breathless, blissed-out in ways you hadn’t expected. you adjust the sheet slightly, your legs brushing together, your heartbeat picking up again.

you’re ready.

and that’s when the door opens again. 

minho steps inside like he owns the room. no hesitation, no pause, just a quiet push of the door and the soft click behind him. he’s in nothing but his boxers, his hair slightly mussed, his chest rising and falling with a controlled breath that gives him away - he’s excited too, even if he pretends otherwise.

his eyes drop to the sheet draped over you and stay there for a moment too long. then, he scoffs under his breath, smirking.

“well”, he says, walking straight towards the bed, “you look a lot better than you did last time i got you”

you raise an eyebrow, “excuse me?”

he stops at the edge of the mattress, leaning down slightly, his smirk deepening.

“don’t act innocent. last time i came in, you were a wreck already. i think you’d lost count by then”

heat blooms in your cheeks - and lower - but your smile is quick and sly.

“that’s because you were, i don’t know… much later then. this time you’re second. don’t get cocky”

“me? cocky? sweetheart, i’m just stating facts”, his laugh is soft, amused, entirely unforgivable.

you sit up a little, letting the sheet fall strategically, and his eyes follow the movement immediately, his stare hungry, sharp. you tilt your head. 

“facts like what?”

he steps closer, one knee sinking into the mattress as he climbs onto the bed without asking, without waiting, like he has every right to be there.

“like…”, he says, bracing one hand beside your hip, leaning in, “you’re less ruined right now, which means i get you fresh this time”, his lips brush your jaw, not quite a kiss, “and that means i can do even better”

you scoff, but your breath catches.

“oh, please. you think you’re that powerful?”

“i know i am”, he pulls back just enough to meet your eyes.

you roll your eyes, but your pulse betrays you.

“sure, keep telling yourself that”

“i don’t have to tell myself anything. you’re the one who practically melted last time”

he smirks, leaning closer until your noses almost touch. your breath hitches - not that you’d ever admit it - and your fingers slide up his forearm, slow and challenging.

“big words, minho”

his eyes flick to your mouth.

“prove them wrong”, he whispers.

you don’t give him the satisfaction of answering. instead, you pull him in by the nape of his neck, and the second your lips touch, the playful bickering melts into something hotter, heavier.

his mouth moves against yours like it’s the only thing he knows how to do. you kiss him back with the same heat, your hand tightening in his hair as he presses his body over yours, the sheet slipping lower, forgotten between you.

the kiss is hungry but controlled, you can feel the restraint vibrating through him, the tension of someone who knows exactly how to unravel you and is savoring the slow approach.

“yeah”, he says against your lips, his forehead brushing yours, “definitely fresh”

you laugh breathlessly into the next kiss, letting him settle over you, letting the heat rise again.

and the game continues, your tongues sliding together, minho’s lips firm and insistent. his body weight pins you lightly to the mattress, his chest brushing your breasts. you arch up instinctively, seeking more friction, and he hums low in his throat, the sound vibrating through your mouth as his hand cups the side of your face, his thumb tracing your jawline.

your hand roams down his back, your fingers splaying over the muscles there, feeling them flex under your touch. your nails scraping lightly along his spine as you dip lower, hooking into the waistband of his boxers. you tug them down with deliberate slowness, savoring the way his breath hitches against your lips. minho doesn’t break the kiss, just deepens it, his tongue sweeping in to claim more as you push the fabric past his ass, exposing the firm curve of it to the cool air of the room.

“y/n”, he says into your mouth, shifting his weight to help you shove the boxers lower, kicking them off with a muffled curse when they catch on his ankle. 

now he’s bare against you, his hard cock pressing hot and heavy along your thigh, twitching with need. you wrap your leg around him, pulling him closer, and he groans softly, his hips rocking forward to slide against your slick folds. you break the kiss just enough to speak, your lips brushing his with every word, your voice low and teasing. 

“last time... you were in control”, you say, nipping at his bottom lip as his mouth chases yours, refusing to let the contact fully break, “with my vibrator... making me come so hard i couldn’t think” 

your hand slides up to tangle in his hair, tugging lightly to keep his face close. he kisses you harder in response, his tongue flicking against yours, but you continue, words tumbling out between the wet sounds of your mouths meeting, “but now… there’s no toy. just you and me, and i’m the one in charge tonight”

minho chuckles darkly against your lips, the sound low and vibrating, but he doesn’t argue. instead, he captures your mouth again, sucking on your tongue until you whimper, your body melting under him. 

with a surge of strength, you plant your feet against the mattress and roll, flipping your positions. he lands on his back with a surprised grunt, his eyes widening for a split second before darkening with amusement and heat. you straddle him swiftly, your knees bracketing his hips, your wet cunt settling against his cock, coating him in your arousal.

“oh, is that right?”, he says, his hands immediately finding your thighs, his fingers digging in just enough to leave faint marks. 

you lean down, crashing your lips to his again, silencing any words. the kiss turns frantic now, your breasts pressing against his chest as you grind down, sliding your clit along his cock. he bucks up to meet you, a low moan escaping into your mouth, his grip tightening on your skin.

you keep the pace, rocking your hips in slow circles, feeling him throb beneath you, the head of his cock nudging your entrance with every pass. your hands brace on his shoulders, your nails biting into the muscle there as you kiss him deeper, swallowing his gasps. 

“fuck, you feel good like this”, you say against his lips, breaking just to nip at his jaw, then returning to devour his mouth. 

his tongue tangles with yours, hot and demanding, but you control the angle, the pressure, making him chase your lips when you pull back teasingly. the room fills with the smack of lips, the slick glide of your bodies. 

minho’s hands roam up your sides, his thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts, but you capture his wrists, pinning them lightly above his head for a moment, showing your dominance. he lets you, smirking into the kiss, but his cock jumps against you, betraying his eagerness. 

“i’m gonna ride you”, you whisper hotly, releasing his hands to trail yours down his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart, “make you beg for it”

he doesn't beg - that’s not minho - but his eyes lock on yours, intense and challenging, as you shift up slightly. one hand wraps around his base, stroking him firmly, your thumb swiping over the leaking tip to spread the precum. minho hisses, his hips jerking up, but you hold him steady, aligning him with your entrance. slowly, torturously, you sink down, the thick head stretching your walls with a delicious burn. 

“oh f-fuck”, you moan into his mouth, kissing him messily as you take more of him, inch by inch, until he's fully seated inside you, your ass flush against his thighs.

the fullness is overwhelming, his cock pulsing deep within your heat, and you pause there, clenching around him. minho groans, his head falling back against the pillow, but his hands find your hips immediately, his fingers splaying wide over your curves. 

“fuck... you’re so tight”, he says, his voice rough, pulling you down for another kiss as you start to move. 

you roll your hips first, grinding in circles to feel him hit every sensitive spot inside, then lift up, slamming back down with a wet slap that echoes in the room. you set a steady rhythm, rising and falling, your breasts moving with each thrust, your nipples grazing his chest.

minho’s grip on your hips tightens, guiding you subtly at first, but you swat his hands away playfully, leaning forward to lie on his chest. 

“my pace”, you say, kissing him hard. 

he meets your thrusts from below, bucking up to drive deeper, a growl rumbling in his chest as your cunt flutters around him.

“fuck- yes, just like that”, he says against your lips, one hand sneaking up to cup your breast, his thumb rolling your nipple until it hardens under his touch. 

you moan, the pleasure spiking, but you don't slow, riding him harder, the bed creaking beneath you. your clit grinds against his pubic bone, building that coil of heat low in your stomach. his other hand moves to your ass, spreading you slightly to feel himself slide in and out, the obscene sounds of your joining filling the air.

you lose yourself in the sensation, kissing him nonstop, your lips swollen and slick, your breaths coming in pants between the press of mouths. 

“minho... you’re so deep”, you whimper, your nails raking down his chest, leaving red trails that make him hiss and thrust up harder. he captures your bottom lip between his teeth, tugging gently before soothing it with his tongue, his hands moving to your hips, urging you faster despite what you had told him.

but then, as you sit up and your pace quickens, chasing that edge, minho’s fingers dig in like iron, stopping your movements mid-thrust. you gasp, trying to rock down, but he holds you firm, his cock buried deep but unmoving, throbbing inside you. his eyes meet yours, dark and hungry, a smirk curling his lips. 

“you really thought you were in control?”, he says, his voice low and dangerous, laced with that dominant edge you’re getting to know so well, “oh, y/n, you were so wrong”

his eyes lock onto yours, that smirk deepening as he holds you still. the stretch of him fills you completely, every pulse of his length sending sparks through your core, but his grip on your hips is unyielding, his fingers bruising in the best way. you whimper, trying to roll your hips down for friction, but he doesn’t budge, his body a solid anchor beneath you.

“thought you were in control this whole time?”, minho says, his voice a low rumble. his thumbs stroke lazy circles over your hipbones, contrasting the iron hold of his palms, “i’ve been in charge since i came in. i was just letting you have your little moment... pretending”

the words hit you like a spark, heat flooding your veins, your cunt responding instantly by fluttering around him, growing impossibly wetter. arousal slicks your inner thighs, dripping down to coat his base where you’re joined, the wetness making a soft, wet sound as you clench involuntarily. 

“fuck”, you gasp, the sensation of your own slickness sliding along his cock making your head spin, desire coiling tighter in your stomach.

you try to move again, lifting your hips, desperate for that glide, that pressure against your walls, but minho’s hands clamp down harder, pinning you flush against him. his cock throbs deep inside, teasing you with its stillness, the head nudging your cervix making your toes curl. 

“minho... please”, you whine, rocking forward as much as his hold allows, your clit brushing his pubic bone in a fleeting touch that only heightens the ache.

he chuckles, the sound dark and satisfied, his gaze never leaving your face as he watches every flicker of need cross your features. slowly, deliberately, one hand releases your hip, trailing up your inner thigh with feather-light touches that make your skin prickle. 

his fingers ghost over the sensitive crease where thigh meets groin, so close to where you need him most, but not quite there. you squirm, trying to chase his hand, but his other hand holds you steady, forcing you to feel every inch of him unmoving inside you.

“so eager”, he says, his hand hovering just above your clit, the warmth of his palm radiating against your swollen folds. 

you can feel the heat of him, and it makes you drip even more, your arousal trickling down to soak his balls. your walls spasm around his thickness, begging for motion, and he finally lets his fingers brush the outer lips of your cunt, spreading your wetness without mercy.

“look at you... leaking all over me”, minho says, his voice husky, his eyes darkening as he circles your entrance where he’s already buried, feeling the slick mess you’ve made. 

then, agonisingly slow, his thumb finds your clit, pressing just the pad against the throbbing nub. he doesn't rub, just holds the pressure there, light and teasing, letting you feel the pulse of your own heartbeat in the sensitive bundle of nerves. a moan tears from your throat, raw and needy, your body arching into his touch despite his restraint. 

“oh god, minho… m-move, please, i need...”, you trail off into another whimper as he starts to circle your clit, his thumb slick with your arousal. 

the sensation of his cock stretching you full and unmoving and his thumb tormenting your clit has you trembling, your hips jerking in futile attempts to grind down. he keeps you locked in place, his hand around your waist like a vice, while his thumb works you over with expert slowness. 

each pass over your clit sends jolts of pleasure racing up your spine, making your nipples tighten and your breath come in short, desperate pants. you try to rock against him again, chasing that building wave, but he stops every movement, his hips lifting just enough to keep you speared on him without giving you the thrust you crave. 

“not yet, you will come when i say”, he whispers, leaning up to nip at your collarbone, his breath hot against your skin, “feel how wet you are for me? all because i let you think you had the power”

your cunt clenches hard at his words, more slickness flooding out, easing the way even though he’s not moving. the teasing circles on your clit speed up, his thumb pressing firmer now, flicking lightly over the peak before soothing it with broad strokes. 

moans spill from your lips uncontrollably, your hands clutching at his shoulders, your nails digging into his muscles as the pleasure coils tighter, so close but held just out of reach.

“minho... i’m- fuck, it’s too much, let me move”, you beg him, your voice breaking, but he only smirks, his hand on your hip holding you down as his fingers pinch your clit, rolling it between them.

the sensation rips a cry from you, your body shuddering, your walls rippling around his cock in desperate pulses. you’re dripping steadily now, the wetness pooling at his base, making every tiny shift slick and filthy. he watches you fall apart under his control, his eyes hooded with lust, his own arousal evident in the way his cock twitches inside you, straining for release but held back by sheer will.

finally, after what feels like an eternity of teasing - your clit swollen and hypersensitive, every nerve alight - minho shifts beneath you. he plants his feet flat on the mattress, knees bending for leverage, both of his hands gripping your hips. 

“alright”, he says, his voice rough with restraint, “now you get what you need, but remember, i’m in charge”

with a powerful thrust upward, he drives into you, the force slamming his cock deep, hitting that spot inside making you cry out, the sudden motion shattering the tease, pleasure exploding through you as he sets a brutal pace. his hips snap up relentlessly, each thrust bottoming out, his pubic bone grinding against your clit. you brace your hands on his chest, riding the waves as he fucks up into you.

“yes, fuck, just like that”, you moan, finally able to move with him, your hips meeting his thrusts in a frantic rhythm. 

his cock drags along your walls, the head pounding your spot over and over until you're seeing white. minho’s hands guide you now, pulling you down hard onto him, his thumbs digging into your flesh as he controls your bodies.

he sits up, capturing one of your breasts in his mouth, his tongue licking your nipple before sucking hard, his teeth grazing the peak. the added sensation has you screaming, your cunt fluttering wildly around him, so close to the edge. 

“come on, let go”, he moans against your skin, releasing your nipple before claiming your mouth in a messy kiss, your tongues tangling as he thrusts deeper. his hand slips between you again, his fingers finding your clit once more, rubbing firm circles.

his cock filling you, stretching you, and his fingers working your clit push you over. pleasure crashes through you, your orgasm ripping another scream from your throat as your walls convulse around him. slickness gushes out, soaking him further, your body shaking uncontrollably. minho breaks down with you, groaning into your mouth as he spills hot inside you, his cock pulsing with each rope of cum, filling you to the brim.

you collapse forward, falling against his chest in a boneless heap, your breaths ragged and synced. his arm wraps around you, his hand on your back, his other hand still between your legs, fingers lazily stroking your oversensitive clit through the aftershocks, drawing out soft whimpers from your lips. he presses a kiss to your temple, both of you trembling in the aftermath, connected and spent.

minho breathes against your hair and for a moment, it’s quiet, until he laughs softly. a low, smug, absolutely infuriating sound.

“so you really thought you were in control”, he says, his lips brushing your temple like he’s kissing the words into you.

you try to reply but your mouth opens and nothing comes out except a faint, breathless sound. you’re still trembling, your face buried in his shoulder, and his laugh deepens.

“mmhm, yeah”, he says, brushing a thumb over your cheek as he tilts your face up, “that’s what i thought”

you press your lips to his just to shut him up, or at least that’s the lie you tell yourself. the kiss is slow, needy in a way you can’t hide, and when he kisses you back, he does it like he knows exactly why you’re doing it.

“can’t talk?”, he whispers against your mouth, “but you were so loud a minute ago, you were screaming for me”

you glare at him, but it’s useless. your body feels like melted sugar, and he knows it.

“shut up”, you mumble, kissing him again, your hand weakly curling in the back of his neck.

“you really weren’t ready for me. admit it”, he grins against your mouth.

“never”

“liar”

you scoff, but you can’t even push him away properly, your arms are too heavy, your legs still unsteady. he notices, because he tilts his head and smirks like he’s studying his own masterpiece.

“look at you”, he says, brushing your hair back, “last time you were a wreck by the time i got to you. and now? second place and already ruined”

“i’m not ruined”, you say.

“sure”, he says, kissing the corner of your mouth once, slow and taunting, “keep pretending”

he shifts carefully, easing out of you and laying you back against the pillows. you sink into them instantly - your body grateful, your pride less so.

minho stands up, stretching lazily, and grabs his boxers from the floor. he glances back at you as he pulls them on, his eyes sweeping over your still-warm, still-flushed form under the sheet.

“you should see yourself right now”, he says, running a hand through his hair with a satisfied sigh, “completely done. and i know i could go harder”

you throw a pillow at him - or at least, you try. it barely leaves your hand.

he laughs, “adorable”

“i hate you”, you lie.

“no, you don’t”

he walks to the door, his hand on the knob, then turns back with one last wicked smile.

“rest up, you’re gonna need it”

you roll your eyes weakly, “fuck off”

“can’t”, he says cheerfully, opening the door, “someone else is waiting their turn”

and with a final smirk, he slips out, leaving you breathless, exhausted, and already warming at the thought of who will come through that door next. you just sit there in the warm, hazy stillness he left behind. your body feels heavy, overstimulated, sweetly undone.

your thighs shift slightly, and the sensation is… unmistakably messy - the lingering, heated mix of your own arousal and the traces both hyunjin and minho left behind on your skin. it’s warm, slick, a physical reminder of how thoroughly the game has already claimed you.

you reach to your nightstand and pull out a small stack of tissues. you take your time, wiping away the evidence of the two rounds, cleaning your inner thighs, your hips, anywhere their touch still lingers.

every brush of the tissue sends a faint aftershock through you and you can’t help but think about the rest of the boys and what they’re gonna do to you, and it turns you on even more, feeling yourself getting wet again.

once you’re clean, or at least as clean as you can, you toss the tissues into the small bin beside the bed and let yourself breathe again, sinking back into the pillows. the sheet rests lightly over your hips, your upper body bare, warm from the afterglow.

you exhale through your nose and then, a soft click, the door opening.

jeongin steps inside, and the moment he sees you there - your hair mussed, your breasts rising and falling - he freezes. his eyes go wide before he can stop himself. like hyunjin and minho, he’s wearing only his boxers, his chest flushed, his throat tight with a swallow he doesn’t hide fast enough.

“...oh”, he breathes, standing there like he’s forgotten how to move.

so shy, so sweet, just like when he entered your room the first time that day. and then the silk happened, and he had control of your body and you. 

you offer the smallest smile, tilting your head.

“hi, innie”

he shuts the door behind him slowly, his gaze still locked on you, his voice barely a whisper.

“you look… you look incredible”

he steps closer, hesitant, but unable to resist you, the sight pulling him in like gravity.

“come here,” you say softly, lifting the sheet with a small gesture.

the invitation is all he needs. he climbs onto the mattress carefully, like he’s worried he’ll disturb you, settling beside you with knees sinking into the bed. he’s so warm, warmer than you expected, and when he sits next to you, his thigh almost brushes yours.

almost.

you close the distance deliberately and he inhales sharply. his eyes flicker down your body, then dart back up to your face, his cheeks tinting pink.

“you’re… wow”, he whispers, “i mean i-i already knew you looked good but um…”

he can’t finish the sentence. you don’t make him. you lean closer, your voice dropping into something lower, something that makes his breath stutter.

“jeongin”, you say, your fingers grazing his jaw, your thumb brushing the corner of his mouth, “come lie down with me”

he obeys instantly. 

he lowers himself beside you, half on his side, half on his elbow, watching you like he’s trying not to stare too obviously but failing spectacularly. when you shift to face him, the sheet slips a bit lower on your waist, and his breath catches again.

“you okay?”, you smirk softly.

he lets out a tiny, embarrassed laugh.

“yeah, but umm… we could hear you”, he says, his voice small but honest, “in the living room. all of us”

“me?”, you blink.

he nods, his eyes flicking away for a moment.

“you. hyunjin. minho. the whole thing. and we-”, he stops, bites the inside of his cheek, then tries again, “it was hard, really hard, you know… not to do anything”

your smile sharpens, slow and dangerous, because you know exactly what he means.

“oh?”, you ask, moving closer, your lips hovering near the shell of his ear, “so you were all out there… listening?”

“yes”, his breath trembles.

“and you wanted to touch yourselves?”, you ask him.

 “... yes”, his cheeks flush deeper.

you hum, pleased, moving your head to tilt his chin up with a finger, “but you didn’t”

“no”, his voice breaks slightly, “we waited”

good.

you move closer, closing the remaining space between your bodies. you’re not touching him fully, not yet, just close enough that he feels your warmth, your dominance settling over him like a slow, sweet pressure.

“well”, you say, letting your lips graze the corner of his mouth without kissing him yet, “you don’t have to wait anymore, innie”

jeongin’s eyes darken, wide and wanting.

“you’re finally here, with me”, you continue, your hand sliding up his chest, just enough pressure to make him swallow, “and you can do whatever you want…”

his breath shudders, his fingers clutching the sheets. you lean closer, your nose brushing his, your voice a whisper.

“like a good boy”

the sound he makes is soft, needy, involuntary.

you smile, then you finally kiss him.

it starts slow but the moment he feels your lips move against his, he melts into the kiss completely. his hand lifts, trembling slightly, settling on your waist as he kisses you deeper, warmer, his breath mixing with yours.

you shift closer, pressing your body to his, guiding him without force, without rush, just enough control for him to feel it. just enough for him to know he’s yours for this round. and he kisses you like he’s been waiting the entire time for his turn.

the kiss deepens, your lips parting as jeongin’s tongue tentatively brushes yours, seeking permission. you grant it, tilting your head to angle better, your hand cupping the back of his neck to pull him closer. his mouth moves with a growing hunger, no longer hesitant but eager. his fingers tighten on your waist, bunching the sheet between you, the thin barrier doing nothing to hide the heat building where your bodies press.

you break the kiss first, just enough to trail your lips along his jaw, feeling the rapid flutter of his pulse under your mouth. 

“good boy”, you murmur against his skin, the words vibrating low and approving, “kissing me so well already. you’re doing such a good job, innie”

a shiver runs through him, his breath hitching as he nuzzles into your neck, his lips grazing the sensitive spot just below your ear. he presses a soft kiss there, tentative at first, then bolder, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin. 

“yeah?”, he whispers, his voice rough with need, his hand sliding up your side, his fingers splaying over your ribs.

“mmhm”, you hum, arching slightly into his touch, encouraging him.

it draws a quiet groan from him, his mouth opening wider against your neck, sucking gently at the curve where shoulder meets throat. the wet heat of his lips sends sparks down your spine, your nipples hardening as arousal stirs low in your stomach.

jeongin kisses lower, his teeth grazing lightly, not biting but nipping just enough to make you gasp. you can feel the hard line of his cock pressing into your thigh through his boxers, throbbing with restraint, but he doesn’t push for more. instead, he focuses on your neck, his lips trailing fire along your collarbone, his tongue soothing each mark he leaves.

“you’re making me feel so good”, you say, threading your fingers through his hair, guiding him gently, “keep going just like that, like my good boy” 

he whimpers softly into your skin, the sound muffled as he kisses back up to the hollow of your throat, his breath coming in short, heated puffs. your body responds, warmth pooling between your legs, the earlier echoes of pleasure from the others making you slick and ready all over again.

you pull back slightly, catching his gaze. his eyes are dark, pupils blown wide with desire, cheeks flushed a deep pink. 

“jeongin”, you say, your voice husky, your thumb tracing his lower lip, “you were so good for me, waiting like that... you didn’t touch yourself even though you wanted to. so now... you can do whatever you want with me, that’s your prize”

his eyes widen, a flicker of surprise mixing with lust, but it shifts quickly to something bolder, hungrier. 

“anything i want?”, he asks, his voice barely above a whisper, his hand stilling on your hip.

“anything”, you say, leaning in to nip at his earlobe, “i’m yours for this, so show me how much you want it”

jeongin doesn’t hesitate then. with a soft, determined exhale, he shifts his weight, his hands guiding you smoothly. you’re both on your sides, but he moves you, turning you until your back presses against his chest. the sheet tangles briefly around your legs, but he tugs it down, exposing your skin to the cool air of the room. 

his body molds to yours from behind, solid and warm, his arm draping over your waist as he settles in close. one hand slides up immediately, cupping your breast. he squeezes gently at first, his thumb brushing over your nipple, feeling it harden under his touch. 

“fuck”, he breathes against your neck, his lips returning there, kissing the spot he marked earlier. 

his mouth sucks a fresh bruise into your skin while he rolls your nipple between his fingers, pinching just hard enough to draw a moan from your throat. you arch back into him, pressing your ass against the rigid heat of his cock, feeling it twitch through the thin fabric. 

“yes, like that”, you say, your voice breathy.

his grip tightens on your breast, his fingers tugging your nipple before soothing it with his thumb. the sensation shoots straight to your core, slickness gathering as he moves to your other breast now, switching sides with the same deliberate care. 

his kisses on your neck grow messier, his tongue on your sensitive skin, his teeth scraping lightly as he murmurs, “you feel so good... so soft”

his hand doesn't stay there long. it trails down your stomach, his fingers dancing over your skin, before moving lower. you feel the heat of his palm hovering over your clit, and you shift instinctively, but he takes control, hooking your leg with his. 

“lift”, he whispers, his voice gaining an edge of command, just like the last time, and you obey, draping your thigh back over his hip, opening yourself wide.

now exposed, his fingers find your clit easily, swollen and aching from the buildup. he circles it slowly at first, just the pads of two fingers tracing the slick folds, gathering your wetness before pressing directly on it. the touch makes your hips buck, a gasp escaping as he rubs in firm, steady strokes. 

“k-keep going, jeongin, p-please”

his fingers press firmer against your clit, making your thighs tremble, slickness coating his fingers. the pleasure builds sharp and insistent, your cunt clenching around nothing, aching for more than just his touch. you moan softly, pushing back against him, feeling the thick ridge of his cock strain against his boxers, hot and insistent against your ass.

“you’re so wet for me, y/n... does that feel good?”

“it feels so good, innie”, you breathe, your voice husky with need, your hand reaching back to grip his thigh, “you’re making me so wet. but i need more, i need you inside me”

jeongin groans low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your neck where his lips still linger, sucking another fresh mark into your skin. 

“yeah?”, he says, his free hand sliding down to shove his boxers out of the way to free his cock, hard and leaking, the head brushing your thigh as he positions himself, nudging against your entrance from behind, “you want my cock, huh? want me to fuck you like this?”

“yes”, you moan, arching your back to give him better access, your leg still hooked over his hip.

he doesn't make you wait long. with a steady push, he sinks inside you, the thick length stretching you open inch by inch. your walls grip him tight, slick and welcoming after his teasing, pulling him deeper until his hips flush against your ass. he bottoms out with a shuddering breath, his cock throbbing inside you, filling every space. 

“fuck, you’re so tight”, he says, his voice breaking as he adjusts to your walls clenching around him, “i-it feels amazing... like you were made for me”

you whimper at the fullness, your body also adjusting to him buried deep, every pulse sending sparks through your core. 

“move”, you urge him, rolling your hips slightly to urge him on, “just… fuck me, jeongin”

he obeys with a low moan, his hand leaving your clit for a moment to grip your hip, holding you steady as he pulls back almost all the way out before slamming back in. the thrust jolts you forward, pleasure ripping through you as his cock drags along your inner walls, hitting deep. 

he sets a rhythm then, steady and building, his hips snapping against your ass with each drive, the wet slap of skin echoing in the room. his other hand moves to your breast, pinching your nipple between his fingers, rolling it roughly as he fucks you.

“god, yes”, he says against your neck, his lips trailing hot kisses along your shoulder, his teeth grazing the skin, “you feel perfect... squeezing me so good” 

his thrusts pick up speed, deeper now, the head of his cock nudging your spot, making you tremble. you moan loudly, matching his rhythm, pushing back to meet each thrust, your ass grinding against his pelvis.

“more”, you tell him through a gasp, your hand covering his on your breast, pressing it harder against you, “fuck, you’re doing so well. such a good boy for me, innie” 

the praise makes him thrust harder, a growl escaping as he latches onto your neck again, sucking hard while his fingers twist your nipple, sending jolts straight to your clit. jeongin’s breaths come ragged now, moans spilling from his lips with every snap of his hips. 

“you like that? my cock deep inside you?”, he asks, his voice strained, his hand sliding up from your hip to cup your chin gently but firmly. 

he turns your head towards him, angling you so your eyes meet his, dark and intense, filled with raw desire. he crashes his mouth against yours, the kiss messy and deep, your tongues tangling as he continues to thrust into you from behind.

the angle lets him go even deeper, his cock spearing you relentlessly while your lips lock, your moans muffled against each other’s mouths. you taste the salt of his skin, feel the vibration of his groans as he kisses you harder.

“come for me”, he whispers against your lips during a brief break for air, his thrusts faltering slightly with how close he is, “i want to feel you come on my cock... clench around me while i fuck you”

“you too”, you reply, breathless, nipping at his lower lip before he dives back in, the kiss turning frantic, “come inside me, jeongin” 

your words push him over, his eyes locking onto yours, wide and pleading, as he drives in one last time, hard and unyielding. jeongin breaks first, his cock swelling inside you, thrusting erratically as he spills hot ropes of cum deep inside you. you follow immediately, your cunt spasming around his length, your walls fluttering wildly as orgasm crashes through you. you cry out into his mouth, your body shaking as waves of heat pulse from your core. 

“fuck, y-yes”, he moans against your lips, his eyes never leaving yours, the intensity making it all the more raw.

he kisses you again, your lips brushing and your tongues sliding lazily now, moans turning to soft whimpers as the aftershocks ripple between you. his thrusts slow to shallow grinds, milking every last bit of pleasure, cum leaking out around where he’s still buried inside you.

“so good”, you murmur into the kiss, your bodies pressed tight as you ride out the high together.

jeongin’s arms remain wrapped around you for a moment longer, his forehead resting against yours as both of you come down together. then he shifts carefully, slipping out of you and guiding you with a gentleness that feels almost shy again.

“wait”, he says softly.

he helps you turn around, slow and careful, until you’re lying on your back and he’s hovering over you, braced on one arm. his other hand cups your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin like he’s grounding himself through the touch.

he kisses you again, not desperate now, not frantic. you smile against his mouth, your fingers curling lightly into his hair.

“you know”, you say between kisses, “you surprised me again”

he pauses, blinking, “i did?”

“mmhm”, you tilt your head, letting him kiss along your jaw, “both times. you start all shy and sweet… and then suddenly you’re completely different”

his cheeks tint pink immediately, “i-”

“you become dominant”, you finish for him, amused, “confident, like you know exactly what you’re doing”, your thumb traces the line of his jaw, “but you’re still such a good boy when i praise you”

he lets out a small, embarrassed laugh, ducking his head to hide his face in your neck.

“don’t say it like that, please”, he says, though his smile gives him away.

“it’s true”, you tease gently, “you melt every time”

he lifts his head just enough to look at you.

“you just… do that to me”, he admits quietly, “i don’t know what it is. you make me want to be good for you, and then-”, he shrugs, bashful, “you make me forget how”

you laugh softly, pulling him into another kiss, slower still, full of warmth instead of fire. after a moment, he shifts off you reluctantly, reaching for his boxers and pulling them back on. he glances at you again, concern flickering across his expression.

“you okay?”, he asks, “really okay to keep going?”

you stretch slightly, smiling up at him, “i promise i’m good”

he exhales in relief, smiling back, “okay, just… checking”

you prop yourself up on your elbows, your eyes glinting with mischief.

“you think the others heard us?”

his ears go red instantly. 

“what- i-”, he laughs, covering his face with his hand, “probably. yeah. definitely”

“poor things”, you say teasing, “having to wait”

he groans, laughing again as he walks towards the door, “you’re evil”

“you love it”

he pauses at the door, looking back at you with a soft smile that lingers just a little too long.

“i can’t wait to see you later”, he says quietly. 

then he slips out, closing the door behind him, leaving you stretched out on the bed, warm, smiling. you stretch out against the sheets, your chest still rising a little faster than usual. you stare up at the ceiling, letting everything sink in - how surreal it is, how indulgent, how wanted you feel, how good it feels.

your fingers slide up into your hair, combing through it slowly, grounding yourself. you’re smiling without even realising it.

then you hear the quiet click of the door opening and closing again. you turn your head to see felix, his boxers not hiding his bulge, his hair a little messy, his eyes bright the moment they land on you. he doesn’t hesitate, he just smiles, wide and unmistakably fond.

“hi”, he says softly.

“hi, felix”, you reply, warmth blooming in your chest.

he crosses the room in a few easy steps and climbs onto the bed beside you, settling comfortably at your side. you’re on your back, and he turns towards you, resting on his elbows, his face hovering close. before you can say anything else, he leans in and presses a quick, sweet peck to your lips. it’s light, playful, and you laugh immediately. 

“you’re in a good mood”

“of course i am”, he grins.

you tilt your head, amused, “you guys definitely heard us, didn’t you?”

he lets out a quiet laugh, his nose scrunching a little. 

“yeah”, he admits easily, “we did”

“poor you”, you tease him, “having to wait out there”

“mmhm, i don’t know”, he says, leaning in to kiss you again, another quick peck, then another, “i kinda liked it”

“you did?”

“yeah”, he says, his voice warm and honest, “i knew i’d get my turn soon, so hearing you?”, he shrugs lightly, smiling, “it just turned me on even more”

you laugh again, your hand drifting to his shoulder as he moves to kiss you between words, “you’re unbelievable”

his forehead rests against yours for a moment, both of you breathing the same air, smiling like this is the easiest thing in the world. then he shifts closer, his body aligning more fully with yours, the playful energy mellowing into something deeper.

his next kiss isn’t rushed, but it’s fuller, his mouth moving slowly against yours, his lips warm and sure. one hand slides to your side, steady and affectionate, holding you there as the kiss lingers. when he pulls back to look at you, his eyes are soft but intent.

“you have no idea how long i’ve wanted this”, he says quietly.

your pulse skips and before you can answer, he leans in again, kissing you deeper this time, less laughter now, more intention, his warmth settling over you. his tongue slips inside your mouth, tasting you slowly, exploring with a tenderness that contrasts the growing urgency building between you.

you melt into it, your body arching slightly off the bed as the kiss intensifies. a soft hum escapes him, vibrating into your mouth, and you respond with a quiet sigh, your hand sliding up his arm to grip his shoulder. the world narrows to the warmth of his body pressed close, the faint scent of his skin so close to you.

felix shifts then, his elbow digging into the mattress as he moves over you, settling on top of you without crushing you. he’s careful, mindful of not overwhelming you, but the solid press of his body pins you gently to the sheets. 

you part your legs instinctively, making room for him, and he sinks lower, his hips aligning with yours, making you feel the growing hardness inside his boxers. the kiss breaks for a moment as he adjusts, his forehead resting against yours, his eyes dark with desire.

“felix”, you say, your voice breathy, but he silences you with another kiss, this one hungrier, his teeth grazing your lip just enough to send a spark through you. 

his hands roam your body now - one cupping your jaw to hold you steady, the other trailing down your side, his fingers splaying over your ribs before dipping to the curve of your waist. you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer, and he groans softly into your mouth, the sound raw and needy.

the making out turns fervent, your lips sliding wetly, your tongues tangling together desperately. you nip at his upper lip, earning a low chuckle from him that turns into a moan when you suck on his tongue. his body rocks against yours, the friction of his boxers against your bare skin teasing, building a slow burn. your nipples harden against his chest and you whimper into the kiss, your hips lifting to chase more contact.

felix pulls back just enough to trail his mouth along your jaw, peppering kisses there before moving to your neck. his lips are soft at first, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the sensitive skin just below your ear. you tilt your head back, exposing more of your throat, and he takes the invitation, his tongue flicking out to taste the pulse pounding there. 

“you’re so beautiful”, he whispers against your skin, his breath hot, before he latches on gently, sucking with enough pressure to draw a loud moan from your lips.

the sound echoes in the room, unrestrained, and it spurs him on. his teeth graze the spot, firm enough to mark, leaving a blooming red spot. one hand comes up to tilt your head further, while his other hand slides lower, skimming over your stomach to your thighs. you gasp as his fingers find your clit, and he circles it slowly, the touch light but deliberate.

“felix- oh my god”, you moan out loud again, the noise tearing from your throat as he sucks another mark into your neck, right where your collarbone meets your shoulder. 

his thumb presses firmer on your clit, rubbing in small, tight circles that make your hips buck up against his hand. pleasure coils tight in your core, sharp and insistent, and you clutch at his back, your nails digging into his skin.

he doesn’t stop at your clit for long. after a few moments of teasing that have you panting, his fingers dip lower, tracing your folds before pushing one inside you. your cunt clenches around it, wet and eager, and he adds a second finger easily, curling them to stroke that sensitive spot deep within. 

the stretch is perfect, filling you just enough to ache for more, and he moves them slowly, his thumb flicking over your clit. all the while, his mouth devours your neck, alternating between sucking bruises and licking soothing paths over them, marking you as his in this moment.

your moans grow louder, uninhibited, filling the room as waves of heat build under your skin. you’re well aware of the others now, standing outside in the living room and how they can all hear you. you’re sure all of them must be hard and turned on at this point, and if you’re being completely honest, the idea turns you on even more than you should admit. 

felix lifts his head, his lips shiny and swollen, his eyes locked on where his fingers disappear inside you. he watches intently, transfixed, as your cunt grips him, slick sounds accompanying each thrust of his hand. 

“fuck, look at that”, he breathes, his voice low and husky, laced with awe and want, “you’re taking my fingers so well... you’re so wet and tight for me. i-it’s driving me insane, y/n”

his words wash over you like fire, the soft dirty talk in that sweet tone making your arousal spike. your walls flutter around his fingers, and you feel yourself getting even wetter, the praise hitting every nerve. 

“felix, please”, you whine, your hips rolling to meet his hand, chasing the building pressure, “it’s too much... i-i need you”

he groans at your plea, his eyes darkening further as he leans in to capture your mouth again, the kiss messy and deep, all tongue and shared breaths. his fingers slow inside you, then still, and he pulls them out with a wet slide that makes you whimper in protest. but before you can complain, he brings them to your lips, hovering there expectantly. 

“taste yourself”, he says against your mouth, his voice suddenly rough with want, “suck them clean for me”

you don’t hesitate, parting your lips to take his fingers in, your tongue swirling around them as you look up at him. the tangy flavor of your arousal floods your mouth and you hollow your cheeks, sucking eagerly while maintaining eye contact. felix’s breath hitches, his pupils blowing wide as he watches, a shudder running through him. 

“god, that’s so hot”, he says, pulling his fingers free with a pop before crashing his lips against yours in a quick, fierce kiss. he tastes you on your tongue, moaning into it, the sound vibrating straight to your core, “you turn me on so much... i can’t believe how perfect you are”

the kiss breaks, and you spread your legs wider, planting your feet flat on the bed to tilt your hips up for better access. his hard cock presses against your cunt through the fabric, thick and insistent. he rocks forward experimentally, grinding down, and you both moan at the friction, the way his length slides along your folds, catching on your clit with each pass.

“yes, just like that”, you gasp, wrapping your legs around his waist loosely, pulling him closer. 

the dry humping starts slow, his hips rolling in a steady rhythm that has his cock dragging over your sensitive skin, the boxers growing damp from your combined arousal. felix braces himself on his forearms, caging you in, his face buried in the crook of your neck as he thrusts against you, his breaths coming in hot pants against your ear.

you moan into his hair, your fingers tangling there, urging him on as the pressure builds again. his movements pick up, more insistent, the head of his cock nudging your entrance through his boxers with every grind, teasing what you want and need. 

“felix... it feels so good”, you say, your voice muffled against his hair. 

he lifts his head, capturing your lips in a sloppy kiss, your tongues sliding as your bodies move together, moans spilling into each other’s mouths - yours high and needy, his deep and rumbling.

the closeness is intoxicating, your skin slick with sweat, your hearts pounding in sync as you hump against him desperately, chasing that edge. your clit throbs with each slide of his cock, pleasure coiling tighter, and felix’s groans grow louder, his hips stuttering just a bit as he fights for control. you’re both lost in it, your breaths mingling, moans vibrating against lips that barely part.

just when you’re about to break, felix stops abruptly, pulling back from the grind that had you both teetering on the edge. you whine in frustration, your body throbbing with unmet need, your cunt aching from the denied release. 

“why did you stop?”, you ask, your voice breathless and edged with desperation, your hands clutching at his shoulders as you try to pull him back down.

he hovers over you, his eyes dark and intense, a soft smile tugging at his swollen lips despite the strain in his expression. 

“because i need you now”, he says, the words rough with want, his breath fanning hot over your face. before you can respond, he leans in and kisses you fiercely, his tongue claiming your mouth one more time, making you dizzy.

felix breaks the kiss with a groan, and his hands hook into the waistband of his boxers, shoving them down and off in one swift motion, freeing his cock. it springs up, thick and hard, the tip flushed red and glistening with precum, veins pulsing along the length. 

he kicks the fabric aside and shifts back, lying down fully on the bed, his head hitting the pillows as he stretches out, his body tense with anticipation. his cock stands rigid against his stomach, inviting, and he reaches for you with both hands. 

“come here”, he says, his voice low and husky.

confusion flickers through you at first but he doesn’t give you time to overthink. his hands grip your waist, pulling you up and moving you with gentle firmness. he turns you around so your back faces him, guiding your body until you’re straddling his hips in reverse, your knees sinking into the mattress on either side of him. you settle onto his stomach, his cock right in front of you, hard and insistent. 

the position feels exposed, vulnerable, your cunt hovering near him, slick and empty. you hesitate, glancing over your shoulder at him, a flush creeping up your neck. 

“felix... i’ve never done it like this before”, you admit softly, uncertainty lacing your words. 

the angle is new - him flat on his back, you facing away, controlling the depth but not able to see his face. it makes your heart race, a mix of nerves and excitement twisting in your gut. his hands slide up your thighs reassuringly, his thumbs stroking soothing circles into your skin. 

“it’s okay, y/n”, he says, his voice warm and steady, again full of that sunshine confidence that eases your doubts, “i’ve got you. just go slow at first, lower yourself onto me when you’re ready. it will feel amazing, i promise. do you trust me?” 

his tone is tender, encouraging, and you nod, biting your lip as the reassurance melts away the last of your hesitation. you turn your attention forward, your eyes dropping to his cock, so close now that you can feel its heat radiating up to your core. it’s thicker than you expected up close like this, the head leaking steadily, and a fresh wave of arousal pulses through you. 

unable to resist, you wrap your fingers around the base, feeling him twitch in your grip. your hand strokes him slowly at first, up and down, your thumb swiping over the slit to spread the slick precum. felix moans deeply, the sound rumbling from his chest, his hips bucking up slightly into your touch. 

“f-fuck, yes... keep going”, he breathes, his voice strained, his hands tightening on your hips as you pump him firmer. the way he throbs in your hand makes your cunt clench emptily, wetness trickling down your thighs onto his stomach.

after a few more strokes that have him groaning louder, you guide him to your entrance. the head nudges against your folds, parting them easily, and you sink down slowly. his cock stretches you open, filling you completely in this new angle, the thickness pressing against your walls in ways that knock the air out of your lungs. 

“oh god, felix”, you moan, your voice breaking as you bottom out, seated fully on him.

he echoes your moan, a deep, guttural sound that vibrates through both of you. 

“you’re so tight... it feels incredible”, he says, his hands roaming up your back to steady you. 

you pause there, adjusting to the fullness, the way his cock hits deeper from below, rubbing spots that send sparks up your spine. then you start to move, lifting your hips and dropping back down, riding him in a slow, experimental rhythm. wet sounds fill the room as your cunt grips him on every thrust, arousal coating his shaft and dripping onto his stomach.

felix lets you set the pace at first, his breaths coming in sharp bursts, but soon he props himself up on one elbow, just enough to reach around your body. one hand finds your breast, cupping it before pinching your nipple between his fingers, rolling it gently at first, then tugging harder to match your building speed. 

“you’re doing so well”, he praises you, his voice husky and sweet, sending shivers down your spine. 

then he sits up a bit more, his other hand snaking lower, his fingers finding your clit swollen and sensitive. he rubs it in firm circles, syncing with your bounces, the sensations overwhelming. overstimulation hits you like a wave, because your body is already primed from the dry humping, the fingering, everything before, and now this. 

pleasure borders on too much, sharp and unrelenting, making your thighs quiver. you can’t hold yourself upright anymore and with a cry, you lean forward, bracing your hands on his knees for leverage, your ass lifting higher as you grind down harder. 

the new angle drives his cock even deeper, the head dragging against your spot relentlessly, and you feel yourself dripping more, slickness soaking his skin and the sheet, the wetness audible with every slap of your bodies.

“look at you, taking me so perfectly”, felix says, his praise soft and adoring, his breath hot against your back as he sits up more to maintain contact, “you’re gripping me like you never want to let go... you’re so wet for me, you’re making me feel so good” 

his words make you moan, heightening the intimacy, making your walls flutter around him. his fingers don’t let up on your clit, pinching lightly now, while his other hand kneads your breast, his thumb flicking the nipple in time with your movements.

you ride him faster, your hips snapping down, the coil in your stomach tightening unbearably. your moans spill from your lips unchecked, high and desperate, mingling with his deeper groans as he thrusts up to meet you, the bed creaking under the force. 

“felix- i’m c-close, don’t stop”, you gasp, your nails digging into his knees, your body trembling as the overstimulation pushes you towards the edge.

“i’m right there with you”, he says, his voice breaking on a moan, his hand pressing harder on your clit. the praise keeps coming, sweet and filthy, “come for me, let me feel you squeeze my cock... you’re so beautiful like this, all mine now” 

it tips you over, your orgasm crashes through you, your cunt convulsing wildly around him, milking his length as waves of ecstasy rip from your core. you cry out, your body shaking, and felix follows seconds later, his cock pulsing deep inside as he spills his cum into you, groaning your name.

exhausted, you collapse, your breaths ragged as aftershocks ripple through you. felix falls back to the bed with a satisfied sigh, his hands still gently caressing your thighs, both of you spent and connected in the hazy glow of release.

felix notices the way your body stays folded forward, your breath still uneven, and immediately reaches for you. 

“sunshine”, he says softly, brushing his thumb over your thigh, “come here”

his hands slide to your sides, steady and gentle, sliding out of you and guiding you carefully until you’re lying beside him instead. you let yourself sink into the mattress next to him, turning onto your side. he mirrors you instantly, close enough that your knees brush, his forehead leaning against yours. the intensity has faded a bit, your bodies still humming but relaxed now.

he kisses you softly, slow and unhurried, full of affection. nothing rushed. nothing demanding. you smile into the kiss, letting out a quiet laugh.

“okay, i have to say… i really liked that”, you admit, your cheeks warm.

his eyes brighten immediately, “yeah?”

you nod, “yeah, i didn’t know i’d like it that much”

his laugh is light, “good. i mean-”, he ducks his head a little, kissing you again, “i’m glad”

you keep kissing between sentences, lazy and affectionate, your fingers tracing idle patterns along his arm.

“you were really good”, you say.

he scoffs softly, “you’re biased”

“i’m not”, you insist, kissing him again, “you know i’m a very honest person”

he hums, pretending to consider it, then sighs against your lips. 

“i know i have to go”, he says reluctantly, “but i really don’t want to”

you laugh, resting your forehead against his, “i figured you’d say that”

he pulls back just long enough to grab his boxers, slipping them on slowly, still stealing kisses whenever he leans back towards you. one last kiss, longer than the rest, before he straightens. at the door, he pauses, turning back with that familiar bright smile and a playful glint in his eyes.

“you know”, he says casually, “if you ever want to try more positions…”

you raise a brow.

“you just have to call me”, he finishes, winking.

you laugh, biting your lip as he laughs too.

“save some energy”, he adds lightly, “i’ll see you later”

the door closes behind him, leaving you alone again, warmth still lingering, your smile slow and thoughtful as you stare at the ceiling. the sheets are rumpled beneath you, carrying the imprint of everything that’s already happened today.

four.

the thought hits you suddenly, almost dizzying. you’ve already had four of them. and there are still four more waiting.

it’s indulgent. unreal. intoxicating. you let out a quiet laugh, one hand sliding over your stomach as you stare up at the ceiling. you’re still not used to this, this fully immersed in desire that doesn’t ask you to hold back. and you know it should scare you but, instead of fading, the excitement builds.

your breath grows a little heavier as anticipation creeps in again, the knowledge that you’re not done, that this is still stretching out in front of you. the way each boy has touched you differently, looked at you differently, wanted you in their own way.

your thighs close instinctively, and you close your eyes for a second, letting the sensation roll through you. you’re still sensitive, still warm, still very aware of your own body and how easily it responds, how you’re still dripping and clenching your thighs.

“this is insane”, you murmur to yourself, your voice soft.

but you’re smiling.

eventually, you push yourself upright, reaching for the tissues on your nightstand again. you move slowly, carefully, taking a moment to clean yourself up. every small movement reminds you of where you are, what you’re doing, how much more there is still to come. you toss the used tissues away and settle back against the pillows, your fingers combing through your hair as you take a steadying breath.

then the door opens and you turn your head just as han steps inside. he freezes for half a second when he sees you there - flushed, relaxed, lying there for him, the sheet barely covering your lower half - and then his lips curl into a familiar, crooked smile.

“hey”, he says, his voice warm, his eyes already bright with anticipation.

you smile at him before you even think about it, “hey yourself”

han closes the door behind him and crosses the room with an easy confidence, his boxers covering his growing bulge. he climbs onto the bed without asking, flopping down beside you on his side, propping himself up on one elbow so he can look at you properly.

“wow”, he says, grinning, “you look… very well taken care of. what? did someone do something to you?”

you snort, “don’t act like you weren’t listening”

“okay, yeah”, he laughs, “maybe i was”

you turn onto your side to face him, the sheet sliding but staying in place on your waist, your knees brushing his thigh. his eyes flicker down for half a second before meeting yours again, amused and very aware.

there’s a beat of comfortable silence, just the two of you smiling at each other like this is the most natural thing in the world. then you tilt your head, feigning innocence.

“so”, you say, your hand sliding up his chest, “it’s just you this time, right?”

his brows lift, “what do you mean?”

“you know exactly what i mean”, you say, “last time you brought help. ice. tricks. surprises”

he laughs, shaking his head, “oh come one, i just did what the wheel said”

“i know”, you say, “so… should i be bracing myself?”

he leans in a little closer, lowering his voice just enough to make your pulse skip.

“don’t worry”, he says, “you’ll find my body is more than enough to have you screaming and dripping for me”

you scoff softly, but your smile gives you away, “that’s a big claim, jisung”

he smirks, “you doubting me?”

you inch closer, your nose almost brushing his, “i might need some convincing”

his eyes darken and that quiet, confident shift is enough to make your thighs clench, feeling yourself already dripping for him like he said.

“i’m very good at convincing”, he says.

you laugh, your breath a little unsteady now, “you’re so sure of yourself”

“only with you”

the words land harder than expected, and the teasing slows. his hand drifts to your waist, resting there casually, like it belongs there, and you don’t move it away.

“careful there”, you say, “you’re starting to sound dangerous”

he leans closer, his forehead brushing yours, “you’re letting all of us have our way with you because you also want it… i think you like dangerous, y/n”

maybe you do.

your fingers hook lightly into the waistband of his boxers, pulling just a bit, but it’s more suggestion than action. his breath hitches, just barely, and you smile.

“still think your body is enough?”, you whisper.

his answer is simple. he kisses you, unhurried at first, but when you kiss him back, it deepens naturally, teasing giving way to intention. his hand tightens slightly on your waist, grounding, steady, confident without forcing anything. your fingers curl into his side as you shift closer, your bodies aligning easily.

when he pulls back just enough to look at you, you try to follow his lips, not wanting to break the kiss just yet. he sees you trying to kiss him again and he smiles, darker this time.

“told you”, he murmurs.

and then he kisses you again, slower, deeper, the playful energy no longer there, disappearing into something undeniably heated. the pace quickens, han presses closer, his mouth claiming yours with more insistence, nipping at your lower lip before soothing it with a swipe of his tongue. your hands slide up his chest to tangle in his hair, pulling him deeper into the kiss. 

his mouth trails from your lips, ghosting along your jawline before finding the sensitive skin of your neck. he sucks gently at first, his teeth grazing just enough to send sparks down your spine, then harder, marking you with a blooming bruise that makes you arch into him. 

“you’re mine for now”, he whispers against your skin, his voice low and deep, the vibration humming through you. 

you tilt your head to give him better access, your own lips seeking out his neck in retaliation, kissing the pulse point there, then biting down softly, sucking until a faint red mark appears. han groans, the sound muffled against your throat, his body shifting as he rolls you both, pinning you beneath him. his weight settles over you, his hips aligning with yours, the thin barrier of his boxers doing little to hide how hard he is, pressing insistently against you.

you feel powerful even under him, your hands roaming down his back, your nails scraping over the muscles that flex under your touch. your fingers hook into the waistband of his boxers, tugging them down and exposing the curve of his ass before sliding them lower. 

han lifts his hips just enough to help you, kicking them off without breaking his rhythm on your neck, sucking harder now, his tongue licking the mark he’s leaving, a possessive edge to it that makes your cunt clench with need. you moan loudly, the sound echoing in your room, raw and unfiltered. 

“fuck, jisung”, you moan, your body writhing beneath him, your thighs parting instinctively to cradle his naked form.

he chuckles against your skin, pulling back just enough to admire his work, a red mark blooming along your collarbone. 

“already moaning like that? baby, i haven’t even started”, he teases you, his voice husky, his breath fanning hot over the marks he’s created, “you sound so desperate for me, y/n. i bet you’re soaking just from a little kissing” 

his words make you squirm, your hands gripping his shoulders as you try to pull him back down. but he hovers there, smirking, his eyes locked on yours as his hands explore your body. 

his fingers skim over the swell of your breasts, cupping them lightly without touching the hardened nipples that ache for attention, his thumbs hovering just at the edges. he moves lower, his hands splaying across your waist before sliding down to your thighs, parting them wider but never venturing inward. 

the teasing is deliberate, agonising, his touch everywhere except where the heat pools hottest between your legs, where your clit throbs untouched and your entrance begs for friction. you whimper, your hips bucking up seeking more, the denial building a frustrating ache that has you begging. 

“jisung, please... t-touch me”, you plead, your voice breaking on the words, your body trembling under his deliberate restraint.

he silences you with another kiss, deep and consuming, as he swallows your whines. when he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, his eyes half-lidded and intense. 

“shh, be patient, baby”, he says, his hand still stroking your outer thigh, “i told you my body’s all you need. let me show you how crazy i can make you without rushing” 

his tone sends a fresh gush of arousal slicking your folds, but he doesn’t relent, his touches remain feather-light and maddeningly avoidant. he shifts lower, his lips following the path his hands have traced. he kisses along your collarbone, then down to your chest, hovering over one breast. 

his tongue circles the nipple slowly, teasing without quite touching, his breath hot and teasing until you arch up with a frustrated groan. then he closes his mouth over it, sucking firmly while his teeth graze the sensitive flesh, biting just hard enough to draw a sharp gasp from you. 

his other hand mirrors the attention on your other breast, his fingers pinching and rolling the nipple between them, tugging in time with the pull of his mouth. pleasure shoots straight to your core, making your cunt flutter emptily, wetness coating your inner thighs as you writhe beneath him.

satisfied with the marks he’s left there, he continues downward, his tongue flicking out to lick a wet trail over your stomach. his eyes never leave yours, dark and hungry, holding your gaze as he dips into your navel, then lower still, savoring the way your body quiver under his touch. that unwavering eye contact makes your cheeks burn, but you can’t look away. he reaches the tops of your thighs, licking the sensitive skin there, his lips brushing kisses along the crease where leg meets hip.

he moves to the inside of one thigh, his teeth nipping playfully at the tender flesh, sucking another faint mark into existence just inches from where you need him most. his breath ghosts over your folds, so close you can feel the warmth, your clit pulsing in anticipation, but he pulls away deliberately, switching to the other thigh. he repeats the torment - kissing, licking, biting - drawing out the tease until your hips move, seeking his mouth. 

“jisung, god, p-please… j-just touch me there”, you beg him, your voice high and desperate, your hands fisting the sheets as frustration coils tight in your stomach.

he pauses, looking up at you with a wicked smile, his chin resting on your thigh. 

“see? just my mouth, nothing else, and you’re already begging like this”, he says, his voice rough with his own arousal, his eyes flicking down to where you’re glistening for him, “imagine what it’ll feel like when i finally give you what you want” 

the words are a taunt, but there’s a playful edge that only heightens the ache. before you can respond, he dives in, his tongue flat and broad as it licks a slow stripe up your folds, tasting your arousal with a hum of approval. 

“you’re so sweet”, he murmurs against you, then circles your clit with the tip of his tongue, flicking it lightly before sucking gently.

you cry out, your hips bucking as waves of pleasure crash over you. he doesn’t hold back now, his mouth working you over with focused intent, his tongue delving into your entrance to lap at the slickness there, then returning to your clit. 

your hands fly to his hair, gripping tight as you grind against his face, almost riding him in your desperation. he groans into you, the vibration sending shocks through your core, his hands pinning your thighs wider to devour you deeper, his nose bumping your clit as his tongue thrusts inside.

but just as the coil winds unbearably tight, your moans turning frantic, han pulls back abruptly, his lips shiny with you. you whine in protest, but he crawls up, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss. you taste yourself on him, fueling your hunger as your fingers tighten in his hair, pulling him closer. he settles between your legs, his cock heavy and leaking against your thigh, the tip nudging your entrance as he grinds once, twice, teasing the stretch without entering.

he positions himself, about to thrust in, when his eyes catch something on the wall - the full-length mirror, reflecting the scene in vivid detail, your flushed body arched beneath him, his muscles taut as he hovers, the raw intimacy captured from the side. 

his gaze locks on the mirror, the reflection capturing every flushed inch of your body splayed beneath him, his own form hovering with restrained hunger. the sight pulls a low groan from his throat, but he freezes just as his cock nudges your entrance without pushing in. you feel him pausing, your body clenching around nothing, desperate for the fill you’ve been craving since his mouth left you trembling.

“jisung please”, you beg him, your voice cracking as frustration and need crash over you. 

your hands clutch at his shoulders, pulling him down with all your strength. your hips buck up instinctively, trying to draw him in, but he holds back. tears of overwhelming want prick at your eyes, your breaths coming in shaky sobs as you writhe beneath him. 

“i need you inside me now. fuck, i can’t wait anymore” 

the words tumble out raw and unfiltered, your cunt throbbing with emptiness, slick dripping down your thighs. han’s eyes soften for a split second, dark with desire, but he just dips his head, capturing your lips in a deep, soothing kiss that steals your breath. his tongue strokes yours lazily, contrasting the urgency of your pleas, grounding you even as it stokes the fire. 

when he pulls back, his hands are gentle but firm on your hips, moving you onto your hands and knees, the sheets bunching under your palms as he positions you in front of the mirror, your reflection staring back with wide, needy eyes and lips swollen from his kisses.

he kneels behind you, his cock heavy and leaking against your inner thigh, sliding through your folds once to coat himself in your wetness. he bends forward, his chest pressing to your back, his mouth hot against your ear. one hand tangles in your hair, tilting your head so you’re forced to meet your own gaze in the mirror. 

“look at yourself”, he says, his voice a rough whisper that sends shivers racing over your skin, “see how fucking beautiful you are right now? on your knees for me, begging like this, dripping for my cock. you’re perfect, y/n, god, i could watch you like this forever”

the words hit hard, vulnerability mixing with the heat as you watch yourself in the mirror, the raw need etched on your face making your core clench tighter. you whimper, pushing back against him, but he holds your hips steady, drawing out the tease. 

“jisung, please…i need it, i-i need you”, your voice is a whine, your body trembling on all fours, the mirror amplifying every quiver, every bead of sweat trailing down your spine.

finally, he straightens just enough, gripping your hips as the tip of his cock presses to your entrance, parting the slick folds before he thrusts in, stretching you open. you cry out, your eyes locked on the mirror as you watch him disappear inside you, the sight filthy and intoxicating as he bottoms out with a groan. 

“fuck, so tight for me”, he says, his voice strained as he starts to move, pulling out halfway before slamming back in, setting a steady rhythm that has your breasts bouncing, your arms shaking.

you can’t tear your eyes away from the reflection, the visual of him fucking you from behind, his abs flexing with each thrust, his hands gripping your hips, pushing you higher. 

“that’s it, baby, look how good you take me”, han says, leaning forward to nip at your shoulder, his pace quickening, “so pretty like this. you’re made for me, aren’t you?” 

his words fuel the fire, each praise sending jolts straight to your core, your walls fluttering around him as he drives deeper, the wet sounds of skin slapping skin filling the room. he doesn’t let up, thrusting harder now, the head of his cock hits that spot inside you with every thrust, making stars burst behind your eyelids, but you force yourself to watch, to see the pleasure twisting your features, the way your mouth falls open in silent screams. 

“jisung- oh god, yes, right there”, you moan, pushing back to meet him, the mirror showing the perfect sync of your bodies colliding.

then, he pulls you up with him, your back flush against his chest. his arm moves around your waist, holding you steady as he stays seated inside you, the new position letting him rub his cock against your walls from a different angle. both of you face the mirror now, the reflection even more intimate - your legs spread wide, your breasts heaving, his free hand roaming possessively over your skin. 

“look at us”, he says against your neck, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, “so fucking hot together. see how i fill you up? you’re glowing for me”

his hand cups one breast, his fingers pinching and rolling the nipple until you arch into his touch, a moan escaping your lips. the other hand dips lower, his fingers finding your clit, circling it firmly, then flicking in time with his thrusts as he picks up speed again. the stimulation is overwhelming, pleasure coiling tight in your stomach, your cunt squeezing him.

“fuck, jisung, i’m so close”, you whimper, your head falling back against his shoulder, but he turns your chin gently, forcing your eyes to the mirror.

you turn your head instead, seeking his mouth, crashing your lips against his in a messy, desperate kiss. your tongues tangle as you moan into him, the vibrations humming through both of you, his thrusts never faltering. he swallows your cries, biting your lower lip before releasing, both of you panting as you break apart. 

“eyes on the mirror, baby, watch me make you come”, he tells you, his voice raspy, and you obey, locking gazes with your reflections - his intense stare over your shoulder, your own eyes wide and glassy.

the sight tips you over - his fingers pressing harder on your clit, the others pinching your nipple, his cock slamming inside you as your bodies move in perfect, heated unison. you come first, shattering around him with a scream. it’s intense, harder than before, a gush of wetness squirting out around his cock - not a flood, but enough to soak his thighs and the sheets below, the mirror capturing the way your body trembles, your cunt pulsing visibly. han follows seconds later, groaning your name as he buries deep, hot spurts of cum flooding you, his hips jerking erratically through the aftershocks.

your eyes stay connected in the reflection, the shared vulnerability in that gaze prolonging your highs, your bodies locked together as you ride it out. he softens inside you, but doesn’t pull out yet - instead, he dips his head to your neck, his lips latching on to suck a fresh mark into the skin, his teeth grazing as he marks you one last time. the sensation draws a final shiver from you, oversensitive and spent. 

“you’re so beautiful when you come for me”, he says, his voice tender now, laced with awe.

with a shared sigh, he eases you both down, collapsing onto the bed in a tangle of limbs - him spooning you from behind, his cock slipping free with a wet sound, his cum trickling down your thighs. you nestle back into him, his arm draping over your waist, pulling you closer.

han stays wrapped around you for a moment longer, his breathing slowly evening out against your back. then, carefully, like he’s afraid to jostle you too much, he shifts.

“hey”, he says softly. 

he guides you with gentle hands, turning you until you’re lying on your back, the sheets cool beneath you. he hovers over you briefly, his eyes scanning your face with an uncharacteristic seriousness.

“you good?”, he asks quietly, “i didn’t- i mean, tell me you’re okay”

you answer by tugging him down instead, your fingers curling into his hair as you kiss him. it’s not rushed or hungry now, it’s just warm and lingering, reassuring. he melts into it instantly, a small laugh escaping him against your mouth.

“okay”, he says, kissing you again, “i’ll take that as a yes”

“i’m more than okay”, you murmur between kisses, pulling him closer when he tries to lift his head, “don’t overthink it”

he exhales, relief softening his expression, “okay”, he says, half amused, half fond.

he steals another kiss, slower this time, before finally rolling onto his side and reaching for his boxers. he pulls them on, still glancing at you like he’s not quite ready to leave yet. he leans in and kisses you again, just before he stands up and goes to the door. at the door, he pauses, his fingers resting on the handle, then looks back with a playful glint in his eyes.

“hey, y/n”, he says, “don’t use the mirror with the next one”

you raise an eyebrow, deciding to tease him a bit, “or what?”

he scoffs lightly, trying to appear mad but smiling. 

“or i’ll get jealous”, he laughs, then adds, “no, seriously, that was-”, he gestures vaguely, then shakes his head with a laugh, “it wouldn’t be fair” 

you laugh too, the sound warm and loose, “no promises”

he groans softly, shaking his head as he opens the door, “you’re dangerous”

“you’re the one that came up with that idea”

he smiles one last time before slipping out, the door closing quietly behind him. you sit up slowly, the sheet sliding down your body, which still hums, your skin warm, marked by the memory of his hands, his voice, the way he looked at you. and not only han, also the ones that came before him.

you run a hand through your hair, letting out a slow breath. you shift closer to the centre of the bed, the sheets sliding softly beneath you as you reposition yourself until the mirror is fully in view again. the sight of your reflection makes your breath catch.

you barely recognise yourself - your hair mussed, your skin flushed, your lips swollen from kisses that haven’t quite faded yet. faint marks bloom across your body, proof of everything that’s happened today. you look touched. claimed. wanted. desired.

your chest rises and falls a little faster as you take it all in. there’s something intoxicating about seeing it, about seeing yourself like this. undone and glowing, your eyes a little glassy, your posture loose in the aftermath of pleasure. the mirror doesn’t let you hide from it, and you don’t want to.

the heat curls low in your body again, slow and insistent, a now familiar warmth spreading as anticipation builds again. you swallow, your thighs shifting slightly beneath the sheet, your body reacting before your mind can catch up.

your fingers lift without thinking, tracing the line of your jaw, then brushing over your lips. they feel sensitive, still tingling. you press them together gently, remembering how they were kissed, bitten, licked, murmured into just moments ago. the thought alone makes your stomach tighten.

you tilt your head, studying your reflection again, watching the way your body responds, how your breathing changes, how your posture softens into something open and inviting without you meaning it to.

and then the door opens again.

you don’t look away from the mirror right away. you hear the soft click of it closing again, footsteps crossing the room, unhurried, stopping beside the bed and only then do you turn your head.

seungmin stands there, wearing nothing but his boxers. his gaze lands on you instantly, on the way you’re stretched across the bed, on the marks you haven’t bothered to hide, on the way you’re looking at yourself in the mirror and then at him.

for a split second, he just stares at you. then his lips part slightly, and he exhales a quiet, almost disbelieving breath.

“wow”, he says softly.

“come here”, you say, it’s not an order, not quite, but it lands like one anyway.

seungmin barely has time to react before you’re moving. you rise onto your knees on the bed, the sheet completely forgotten at this point, and grab him by the shoulders, pulling him into you. your mouths meet in a kiss that’s immediate and unrestrained, all heat and urgency.

his hands come up instinctively, gripping your waist, his fingers digging in. the kiss deepens, your bodies knocking together as he steps closer, caught completely off guard by your energy.

“wow, what-”, he says again against your mouth, half a laugh, half disbelief, but he doesn’t pull away, you don’t give him the chance.

using more strength than you realise you still have, you guide him down with you, moving until your back meets the mattress and you pull him over you. he braces himself on his forearms just in time, hovering above you, his eyes dark and searching as your lips find his again.

the kiss turns slower here, heavier, deliberate. your hands slide up his back, holding him there. he kisses you back with growing hunger, need bleeding into every movement, until he stops. he pulls back just enough to look at you, his forehead resting against yours, his breath uneven.

“okay”, he says quietly, “i’m not complaining about this, but-”, his thumb brushes your side, grounding you, “what has gotten into you?”

you try to kiss him again, chasing his mouth, but he pauses you with a gentle touch to your cheek.

“hey”, he says, “come on, talk to me”

you lean into his hand instead, your eyes soft but intense.

“i just-”, you exhale shakily, “i just need you close right now. i want you here, with me”

something shifts in his expression, surprise melting into warmth, into something protective and real. he kisses you then, deeper this time, slower but no less intense. his lips move against yours with purpose, like he’s grounding both of you through the contact. his hand stays firm on your waist, steady, reassuring. when he pulls back, his voice is low, careful.

“how is it going?”, he says, his eyes searching yours, “how are you holding up after… everything?”

you stop kissing him, really stop this time, and look at him properly. he’s still hovering over you, still warm, still close, but now there’s space for words. your hands rest on his shoulders, your thumbs brushing his skin as you speak.

“i’m okay”, you say softly, “better than okay, just… a bit overwhelmed, but in a good way, don’t worry”

his brows knit slightly, a bit of concern still there, “you sure?”

“yeah”, you nod, “it’s intense. all of it. but i like how it makes me feel”

you meet his eyes and his expression softens completely.

“okay”, he says quietly, “i was just checking, there’s no rush, just do whatever you want”

seungmin’s lips brush your forehead, lingering there before he trails softer kisses across your face - first to one cheek, then the other, each press light and tender, warming the skin flushed from earlier. he dots a quick one on the tip of your nose, drawing a small, surprised giggle from you that breaks the tension just enough. his eyes crinkle at the edges with gentle amusement, but there’s heat building underneath, a subtle shift as his mouth finds yours once more.

this kiss starts tender but it deepens quickly, mouths opening to let tongues meet in slow, exploratory strokes. his hand cups the side of your face, his thumb tracing your jawline, while the other stays on your waist, pulling you closer. your fingers thread into his hair, tugging lightly to angle him better, and the need becomes even bigger, kisses turning hungrier, breaths mingling hot and ragged.

you roll your hips experimentally, pressing your core against the growing hardness in his boxers, and he groans low into your mouth. you break away just long enough to move him - your hands push at his shoulders, guiding him until his back hits the headboard with a soft thud. he lets you, a surprised huff escaping him as you straddle his lap, your knees bracketing his thighs, your bare skin brushing his clothed one.

“careful there”, he says, his voice husky but laced with concern, his hands settling on your hips to steady you, “you good? not pushing too hard after... everything?”

you nod, leaning in to capture his lips again, but not before a shared laugh bubbles up as the position settles. 

“i’m perfect”, you whisper against him, and the words seem to reassure him, his grip loosening, his palms sliding up your sides. 

the laughter fades into moans as you kiss him again, deeper this time, your body rocking instinctively against his. you feel him harden fully beneath you, the thick outline of his cock straining against the fabric of his boxers, pressing right up into your slick folds through the barrier.

his moan vibrates against your mouth, low and needy, as you grind down deliberately now, circling your hips to drag your cunt along his length. your clit catches on the ridge of him with each pass, building that familiar ache low in your stomach. 

“fuck”, he breathes, breaking the kiss to tilt his head back slightly, his eyes half-lidded as he watches you move. 

his hands continue moving, one squeezing your ass to encourage you, the other tracing up to cup your breast, his thumb flicking over your nipple until you arch into it with a gasp. your movements grow more insistent, slickness soaking through his boxers as you chase the pressure. 

but you want more, you need more. you trail kisses down his jaw, nipping at the sharp line before moving to his neck. you start sucking a light mark into the skin just below his ear, your tongue soothing the spot as he shudders beneath you.

“god, y/n”, he groans, his head falling to the side to give you better access, “you feel so good like this, k-keep going”

you kiss lower, across his chest, your tongue flicking over one nipple before sucking it briefly.

“if you wanna know why i was like that when you came in, it’s just... with han before, i completely lost it. the mirror… he had me on my knees, watching myself beg for him, and then he fucked me from behind while we stared at each other. and before that, all the others... it’s all so intense”, you pause to bite his nipple lightly, drawing a moan from him, “so i’m feeling extra needy right now, like i can’t get enough. and also, last time, with you... you were so sweet, so soft, the only one that made love to me... so you deserve a reward today, let me take care of you”

seungmin’s breaths come faster, his cock twitching under you as your words sink in, his hips bucking up involuntarily to meet your grinding. 

“f-fuck, hearing that... you’re killing me, and i should be the one doing that”, he says, his fingers tightening in your hair. 

you slide lower, kissing down his body, as your hands hook into the waistband of his boxers, tugging them down. he lifts his hips to help you, kicking them off, until he’s naked beneath you, his cock springing free, thick and veined, the tip already glistening with precum. you settle between his legs, your eyes locked on his as your hand wraps around the base, giving a slow, firm stroke that has him hissing through his teeth. 

“y/n- fuck, yes”, he moans, watching you, anticipation darkening his gaze. 

he thinks you’re going for it, your mouth hovering close, your breath ghosting over the sensitive head, your lips parting just enough to tease. his hand reaches out, his thumb brushing your cheek encouragingly, a silent plea in his eyes.

but at the last second, you pull back, a mischievous glint in your eye as you shake your head. 

“as much as i want to”, you say, your voice low and teasing, pumping him once more to keep the edge sharp, “it wouldn’t be fair to the others. i didn’t do this with any of them, we have to keep it even, you know?”

seungmin’s expression twists into near desperation, a whine escaping him as his hips jerk into your hand. 

“what? no, please y/n- come on, just a little, i-i’ll beg if you want”, his voice cracks on the last word, his cock throbbing in your grip, leaking more as he stares at you with wide, pleading eyes, his chest heaving.

the sight tugs at you, but you hold firm, releasing him with a final squeeze before crawling back up his body. you straddle him again, your chest pressing flush to his, your nipples grazing his skin as you align your hips. his cock nestles hot and heavy against your cunt, sliding through your wetness as you rock once, coating him. 

“maybe another time”, you whisper, leaning in to kiss him softly, reassuringly, your hand guiding his cock to your entrance, “it could be just you and me… no rules, no more wheels. i promise i will suck you off then” 

with that promise hanging in the air, your hips sink down slowly, taking the head of his cock past your entrance in one deliberate motion. the stretch is immediate, your walls fluttering around him as you lower yourself further until he’s fully inside you.

seungmin’s head falls back against the headboard with a thud, a loud, unrestrained moan ripping from his throat as your cunt clenches tight around him, slick and welcoming after all the buildup.

“fuck, y/n”, he gasps, his eyes squeezing shut for a second, his hands on your hips to hold you steady, his fingers digging into the soft flesh there. 

the sound is so desperate, so unfiltered, that it sends a thrill through you, but you lean forward quickly, crashing your mouth against his to muffle the next groan. as you start to move, rolling your hips, he moans again, but this time it’s into your kiss, the sound muffled and intimate. you echo it back, a soft whimper escaping you as his cock drags against your inner walls, hitting that spot deep inside with every shift. 

you lift slightly before dropping back down, taking him deeper each time, while he thrusts up to meet you, the slap of skin on skin starting soft but growing wetter, more insistent. you keep kissing him through it, your mouths never fully parting, your tongues tangling lazily at first, then with more urgency as the pleasure coils tighter. 

“god, you feel amazing”, he says against your lips, his voice breathy and rough, his eyes locked on yours, “so tight around me”

you smile into the next kiss, nipping at his bottom lip before whispering back, “keep talking like that and i’ll ride you all day. you like how i take you?”

“yeah- fuck, yes. don’t stop, y/n. just like that” 

the words spur you on, your pace quickening. you bounce a little harder now, your breasts brushing his chest. sweat beads on his skin, and you can feel your own arousal dripping down, easing the glide as his cock moves in and out.

his hands wander upward from your hips, sliding over the curve of your waist to cup your breasts, his palms warm and possessive. he squeezes them first, his thumbs tugging at your nipples with just enough pressure to make you arch into his touch, a sharp gasp breaking from your throat. 

“you are perfect”, he says, his voice laced with awe and hunger, rolling your nipples between his fingers as you ride him. his words have you moaning louder, your head tipping back briefly.

“keep talking, minnie”, you say, grinding down to feel him bottom out, your clit grinding against him, “tell me how good you feel inside me” 

“so fucking good… you’re gripping me so hard. you like this, huh?”, his moves quicken, making your walls flutter wildly around him. 

you nod frantically, encouraging him, “yes, just like that- d-don’t stop”, your hands on his shoulders as you also pick up speed, the room filling with the sounds of your bodies connecting - wet smacks, heavy breaths, mingled moans.

the tension builds relentlessly, that familiar heat pooling low in your stomach again. you’re both close, you can feel it in the way his thrusts grow erratic, his hips snapping up with more force. 

without thinking, your hand slips between your bodies, your fingers finding your clit, and you start circling it in tight, firm strokes, chasing the release that’s hovering just out of reach. seungmin’s eyes drop to watch you, darkening further at the sight, your fingers working yourself shamelessly while you fuck him, the visual pushing him closer to the brink. 

“holy shit”, he says, unable to tear his gaze away, his chest heaving as he thrusts deeper, “t-that’s so hot, y/n, you touching yourself while i’m inside you. fuck, you’re gonna make me come just from seeing you”

his words hit like a spark, intensifying everything. you lean in, capturing his mouth in a fierce kiss to swallow the next moan, your tongues battling as your circles quicken. he matches your pace, one hand still on your breast, the other gripping your ass to pull you down harder onto his cock. the pressure builds until you finally break, your orgasm crashing over you, your walls spasming around him, a cry muffled against his lips as you come undone.

“i-i’m coming- fuck, y/n”, he mumbles brokenly and then, he breaks too, groaning into the kiss as his cock throbs, spilling hot inside you with deep, stuttering thrusts. 

you ride your highs together, your movements slowing to a grind as the waves subside, your bodies slick and spent. you collapse against him, your forehead to his shoulder, both of you panting. his arms wrap around you immediately, holding you close. you lift your head, meeting his eyes - softer now, but still dark with hunger - and a lazy smile curves your lips. he mirrors it, before he pulls you in for a hungry kiss, slow and deep.

“mmhm”, you hum against him, nipping playfully, and he chuckles softly, chasing your mouth for more - kisses that linger, teasing as you stay connected, unwilling to separate just yet.

the laughter comes first. it slips out of both of you almost at the same time, soft and breathless, like your bodies don’t quite know what to do with all the leftover energy yet. you rest your forehead against his for a moment, still straddling him, the closeness grounding.

“you know”, you say, brushing your thumb along his lips, “the first time we did this, you were way softer”

he lets out a quiet laugh, his head tipping back against the headboard, “was i?”

“mmhm”, you nod, playful and teasing, “all careful, making love to me”, you tilt your head, smiling knowingly, “today though? you were… different”

his eyes flick back to yours, amused, “different how?”

“harder”, you say simply, grin widening, “like you had to prove that you had it in you”

he huffs out a laugh, shaking his head, “guess i’m just full of surprises”

“dangerous ones”, you add.

he groans, his hands sliding to your hips again, his thumbs pressing lightly like he’s tempted to pull you right back into him. instead, he exhales slowly, before he speaks again.

“come here”, he says.

he helps you move, guiding you gently down until you’re lying back against the mattress. he follows you just enough to press a soft kiss to your lips before he slips out of you completely. you feel the space between you as he straightens, the warmth fading as you feel the rest of your fluids dripping down your thighs.

he reaches for his boxers, pulling them on with a lazy kind of reluctance.

“don’t look so smug”, he says, catching your expression.

“i didn’t say anything”

“you didn’t have to”

he moves towards the door, then pauses and turns back. he walks right back to the bed and leans down beside you again, his voice quieter now, teasing but sincere.

“you know… what you said earlier”, he says, “about, you know… sucking me off another time”

you laugh loudly at his words, “seungmin, i wouldn’t have said it if i didn’t mean it”

his lips curve slowly, satisfaction flickering across his face, “good”

he leans in, kisses you one more time, warm and unhurried, and then he pulls back, brushing his thumb over your cheek.

“good luck with the next one”, he says.

you laugh again as he straightens, and you watch him leave the room with one last glance at you over his shoulder.

the door clicks shut and you’re left there, your breath slow, your body tired and overstimulated but still humming. you lie there for a moment after seungmin leaves, the room quiet except for your own breathing. your thoughts tumble over one another - flashes of hands, voices, laughter, the way each of them feel different with you.

it’s almost overwhelming how wanted you feel and even as your body should be completely spent, there’s that familiar, restless pull again, reminding you that you’re far from done.

the door opens again. you turn your head just in time to see changbin step inside, the soft click of the door closing behind him. he’s only wearing his boxers, showing his growing bulge, his expression immediately darkening when his eyes land on you.

“hey”, he says.

“hi, bin”

he doesn’t rush, he just walks to your bed and lies down facing you, the two of you on your sides, close enough that your knees brush. his gaze flicks over your face, attentive, careful.

“how are you holding up?”, he asks quietly, “really, you can tell me”

you smile at him, warmth spreading through your chest, “i’m good, better than good actually”

he hums, like he’s relieved but still keeping watch, like he always does with you, “yeah? you’d tell me if you weren’t, right?”

“always”, you say, reaching out to brush your fingers lightly over his forearm, “you know that”

“okay, good, just wanted to make sure”

there’s a pause, a comfortable one, but still charged. your finger traces higher, slow and deliberate, following the line of his bicep. you feel him moving, getting closer to you, leaning into your touch.

“so”, you say, your eyes meeting his again, “what’s your plan with me tonight?”

his lips curve, something darker setting on his face. you feel your thighs clenching unconsciously, feeling yourself getting wet again, wondering what’s he gonna do with you. or to you.

“last time”, he says softly, leaning in just enough for his breath to brush your mouth, “you were the one in charge”

you remember. the way he let you lead, let you decide, let you take him however you wanted. let you ride him until you collapsed from your own pleasure. 

“you did what you wanted with me”, he continues, his voice low, “used me exactly how you felt like”

your pulse jumps. you nod your head, waiting for him to continue, because that’s the only thing your body can do.

“this time…”, he says, but he doesn’t continue, he kisses you.

it’s firm, deliberate. his hand slides to your waist as he shifts, guiding you onto your back. he follows, bracing himself above you, his weight settling over you, his body pressed against yours, his clothed cock rubbing against your aching cunt.

he pulls back just enough to look at you.

“this time”, he repeats, brushing his lips against yours again, “i’m doing whatever i want”

another kiss, deeper now, claiming you.

“and i’m going to use you”, he says against your mouth, his voice steady, confident, “exactly how i feel like”

and that’s all he needs. his words make you clench around nothing, letting out a moan that he silences with another kiss, hungry and bruising. his tongue sweeps into your mouth with a hunger that matches the fire building in your core, his teeth grazing your bottom lip before he sucks it between his teeth, drawing a soft whimper from you. 

his body presses down harder, the thin barrier of his boxers doing little to hide the rigid length of his cock grinding against your bare cunt, the friction sending sparks through your already sensitive folds. you arch up into him, your hands sliding up his back to clutch at his shoulders, your nails digging in as the kiss turns even more desperate.

he breaks the kiss only to tug his boxers down, kicking them aside, his cock springing free, thick and heavy, the tip already glistening with precum. the sight makes your mouth water, and without thinking, your hand darts down, eager to wrap your hand around him, to stroke the heat pulsing there, but changbin catches your wrist, pinning it gently but firmly above your head.

“no”, he says, his voice low and commanding, his eyes locking onto yours, “you can’t touch today. it’s my turn, remember? no hands on me”

your breath hitches at the authority in his tone, a fresh wave of arousal flooding your cunt. you nod, biting your lip, the denial only heightening the ache between your legs. 

“okay”, you whisper, your voice breathy.

he releases your wrist but keeps it there with a warning look before crashing his mouth back to yours. the kiss is fiercer now, his hand roaming down your side, tracing the curve of your hip before dipping between your thighs. 

his fingers find your clit immediately and he starts circling it with slow, deliberate pressure, the pad of his thumb gliding over the sensitive nub in tight loops that make your hips buck involuntarily.

you moan into his mouth, the sound vibrating against his tongue as pleasure shoots through you. he doesn’t stop the kiss, swallowing every gasp as his touch grows bolder, his fingers parting your folds, stroking through your wetness, coating himself in your arousal. 

then, without warning, he slides two fingers inside you, curling them just right to press against that spot. your walls flutter around them, gripping him tight as he pumps slowly, his thumb working your clit.

“fuck, bin”, you gasp when he pulls back for air, your head falling to the side as his lips trail to your neck. 

he stays there, sucking a mark in your skin, his teeth scraping lightly before his tongue soothes the sting. all the while, his fingers thrust deeper, moving inside you, stretching you open with them.

“god, i’ve wanted you like this for so long”, he growls against your throat, his voice rough with need, “last time, you took my cock like you owned it, made me watch you come all over me. but i wanted to pin you down, make you beg for it, fuck you until you couldn’t think straight” 

his words send heat pooling in your stomach, your cunt clenching harder around his fingers, your hips rolling up to meet each thrust. the wet sounds of him fingering you fill the room, loud and intoxicating, your slick coating his hand as you chase your climax.

“changbin- fuck, yes, right there”, you moan, your body writhing beneath him, your thighs trembling as his fingers curl again, hitting that perfect spot over and over. 

you can feel the tension coiling tight, your breaths coming in short, desperate bursts, but he doesn’t let up, his mouth moving lower to suck another bruise into your collarbone while his fingers works you relentlessly. he lifts his head suddenly, his eyes dark and intent as he watches your face contort in pleasure. 

“i’m not done yet”, he says, his voice husky, withdrawing his fingers just enough to make you whine at the loss. 

before you can protest, he kisses down your body, his lips brushing your breasts, his tongue flicking over one nipple before moving again until he settles between your thighs. his hands spread your legs wider, your thighs hooked over his shoulders, exposing you completely to his gaze.

the first swipe of his tongue is devastating, flat and broad, lapping from your entrance up to your clit in one long, slow drag that has you screaming his name, the sound raw and echoing off the walls. 

“changbin! oh god-”

he hums in response, the vibration rumbling through your core as he dives in fully, his mouth sealing over your cunt. his tongue delves inside, tasting every inch of your slick heat while his lips suck gently at your folds. you move against the sheets, your hands fisting the fabric as pleasure overwhelms you. 

you lift your head just enough to look at him, but he doesn’t stop, he pulls back just enough to let a thick strand of saliva mixed with your arousal connect his lips to your clit, the sight filthy and intimate as he holds your gaze, his eyes smoldering with hunger.

“look at you”, he says before his mouth returns to your clit, sucking it between his lips with firm, pulsing pressure that makes your back arch off the bed, “such a good girl for me, taking my tongue like this, so wet and needy. you’re dripping all over my face, y/n”

his praise washes over you like fire, your body responding with frantic clenches, your hips grinding up against his mouth. one of his hands goes up to cup your breast, his fingers pinching and rolling your nipple in time with the flicks of his tongue, while his other hand pushes two fingers back inside you, curling deep and thrusting hard. 

the combination is too much, everything is too much - his mouth devouring your clit, his fingers filling you, his hand gripping your breast. it pushes you higher, the coil in your stomach winding unbearably tight.

you’re relentless, your moans turning into cries as you chase your release, your thighs quivering around his head. sensing you’re close, changbin moves, his hand leaving your breast to grip your waist instead, his fingers digging into the soft flesh with bruising force, pinning you flat to the mattress. you know there’ll be marks blooming there later - red imprints of his hold, a reminder of his control.

just as your walls start to spasm, the orgasm hovering on the edge, he pulls back abruptly.

“not yet”, he growls against your clit, his fingers slipping out, his mouth lifting away, leaving you trembling and empty, the denial hitting like a punch to the gut. 

your body trembles on the edge, every nerve ending screaming for a release that he’s cruelly stopped. the emptiness between your legs aches fiercely, your cunt clenching desperately around nothing, slick dripping down your thighs from the teasing that’s left you so utterly wrecked. tears prick at the corners of your eyes, frustration and need blurring your vision as you look at him, your lips parted in a silent plea. 

“please, bin”, you beg, your voice breaking on a sob, the words tumbling out in a rush, “i need it, i-i need you. don’t stop, i can’t take it anymore. fuck, just let me come”

he hovers above you, his cock throbbing against your thigh, the heat of it a torturous reminder of what you’re craving. but changbin doesn’t give in right away. instead, he leans closer, his broad frame caging you in, one hand cupping your cheek to wipe the tears that slip free. 

“it’s okay, sweetheart”, he says softly, “i’ve got you, no more tears, quiet now” 

his lips brush yours in a gentle kiss, slow and coaxing, swallowing the next whimper that rises in your throat. the kiss deepens just enough to silence your pleas, his tongue tracing the seam of your mouth until you open for him, melting into the warmth as the desperation calms a bit. he pulls back slightly, his forehead resting against yours, his breath mingling in the space between you. 

“you’ve been such a good girl for me”, he whispers, the praise making your heart stutter even as your body throbs, “taking everything i give you, letting me tease you until you’re shaking. good girls like you deserve rewards, big ones, and i’m gonna give you exactly what you need”

the words ignite something deep inside, your cunt fluttering in anticipation as he shifts, lining himself up. the head of his cock nudges at your entrance, slick and ready, and with one smooth thrust, he pushes inside, stretching you open, filling the void that’s been tormenting you. 

you moan louder than ever before, the sound ripping from your chest, raw and unrestrained, echoing through the room - or rather, the entire dorm - as your walls clamp down around him, greedy for more. he’s so deep already, the pressure perfect, hitting spots that make your toes curl and your back arch.

changbin groans low in his throat, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his lips sucking and biting there, marking the skin with hot, open-mouthed kisses that sting just right. 

“fuck, you’re so tight”, he says against your throat, his hips snapping forward. 

the fullness is overwhelming, every ridge and vein dragging along your inner walls as he moves - slow at first, deliberate rolls that grind his pelvis against your clit with each pass. you cry out again, the pleasure sharp and immediate, your hands flying to his body - your fingers digging into the muscles of his shoulders, then sliding down to his back, your nails scraping lightly as you pull him closer. 

he lifts his head to capture your mouth in another kiss, this one messy and fervent, your tongues tangling as moans spill between you. yours vibrate against his lips with every thrust, his own grunts mixing in, the sounds loud but intimate. 

“that’s it, y/n”, he praises you between kisses, his voice husky and wrecked, “moan for me like that, let me hear how good my cock feels inside you”

your hands roam restlessly, one threading into his hair to tug gently, urging him deeper into the kiss, the other clutching at his bicep, feeling the flex of muscle as he braces himself. 

he adjusts then, hooking one of your legs over his hip, spreading you wider to open you up more fully, one of his hands gripping your thigh to hold it there, the angle allowing him to sink even deeper, the head of his cock brushing that sensitive spot inside with unerring precision.

“y-yeah, like that, please”, you beg him. 

“yeah? you like this?”, he says against your lips, his hips picking up speed, “i’m gonna make you come like this, open up for me”, the wet slap of skin on skin filling the air alongside your moans, “just let me fuck you right, i’m gonna make this cunt mine tonight”

the rhythm builds, fast and consuming, each thrust driving you higher, the coil in your stomach tightening again. your cunt flutters around him, slick coating his length, easing the way as he pounds into you, making your vision blur. 

“god, look at you- so fucking perfect, taking my cock like this. you’re gonna come so hard for me, aren't you? my good girl, all mine”

“a-all yours, bin”

he shifts again, both hands now on your thighs, pushing them back towards your chest to fold you beneath him, the position exposing you completely. he leans down to kiss you once more, swallowing your cries and moans while his hips snap forward, faster now. your nails rake down his back, leaving faint red trails, and he hisses in pleasure, the sound spurring you on, your hips meeting his thrusts, the friction on your clit building unbearably.

“bin- oh fuck, i’m so close”, you moan into his mouth, your body trembling. 

“come with me”, he says, his voice strained, “let go, show me how good i make you feel”

it hits you like a wave, crashing over with blinding intensity. your cunt spasming around him as you come undone. a gush of wetness escapes, just enough to soak where you’re joined, the slight squirt making everything slicker, more intense. changbin notices immediately, groaning deep and triumphant as he feels it, his thrusts stuttering. 

“oh f-fuck yes- that’s my girl, squirting for me like that. so hot, y/n, you’re perfect” 

that’s enough to tip him over, his hips thrusting one last time as he spills inside you, hot pulses of cum filling you up, his body shuddering with the force of it.

he collapses onto you then, both of you panting and spent. his cock twitches softly inside you, prolonging the aftershocks as your hands slide up to cradle his face, pulling him into a lazy kiss, your lips and tongues exploring lazily. he kisses you like he can’t get enough, even now, murmuring against your mouth between kisses. 

“so good... my good girl…”

you kiss him this time, your lips searching for his. the kiss is unhurried, full, his weight settling more carefully now. there’s no rush, just closeness, just his uneven breath ghosting over your skin.

“y/n”, he murmurs softly, brushing his nose against yours, “you with me?”

you nod immediately, your fingers on his jaw, your thumbs stroking his skin, “yeah, all good”

his shoulders drop, relief flashing briefly across his face before that satisfied warmth returns. he kisses you again, gently now, peppering soft kisses along your lips, your nose, your cheek, your forehead.

“you did so good”, he says quietly, “so, so good for me”

his hand moves soothingly over your side, grounding you. you hum in response, pulling him closer just to feel him there a second longer. 

eventually, he shifts, a wet sound accompanying as he slips out and his cum trickles down your thigh while he presses one last kiss to your mouth before moving back completely. he straightens, runs a hand through his hair, and then reaches for his boxers, pulling them on slowly.

he turns back to you, his eyes soft but still dark with that lingering edge.

“only one left now”, he says, a small smile tugging at his lips, “and i’m honestly impressed you’re still standing, well, i mean, you’re lying down but, you know what i mean”

you laugh weakly, sinking back into the mattress, “i know, bin”

he steps closer again, bends down to kiss you once more, then brushes his fingers through your hair, smoothing it back from your face.

“i’m proud of you”, he murmurs, “i always am”

your chest tightens at that, warmth spreading somewhere deeper than skin.

“i’ll see you soon”, he adds, his voice dropping just slightly.

then he straightens, gives you one last look, and heads for the door. it closes softly behind him, leaving you alone again, your heart still racing, your body heavy with sensation and overstimulation, the sheets under you a mess of you and the boys. well, almost all of them. there’s only one left. 

chan.

you stay there for a few seconds, your chest rising and falling as everything catches up to you. and then, slowly, carefully, you push yourself upright. your legs protest immediately and you laugh under your breath as you stand up, one hand bracing against the bed when your knees wobble. 

everything feels pleasantly overstimulated, your muscles loose, your skin sensitive, your body reminding you of just how much it’s been through today. step by step, you make your way towards the bathroom attached to your room, your bare feet sinking into the rug.

the light clicks on softly and you stop in front of the sink, your hands resting on the cool porcelain, and finally, you lift your gaze to the mirror.

it steals the breath right out of your lungs.

you’re flushed, your skin warm and glowing, your eyes a little glassy, your lips swollen from all the kissing. and everywhere - absolutely everywhere - there are marks. faint already in some places, darker in others. along your neck, just below your jaw. scattered beneath your breasts. along your hips, your waist, your thighs. evidence of hands, mouths, teeth. of being touched, held, wanted.

there’s something intoxicating about the sight, about knowing how each mark got there, who left it, what it meant in the moment. you trace one of them with your fingers, then another, watching the way your skin reacts under your touch. the feeling makes your thighs clench involuntarily, and you feel yourself getting wet again.

you look at yourself and feel powerful, desired, still hungry. and then, a soft sound comes from the bedroom, the door opening. you freeze, your eyes flicking up in the mirror. then you hear a dull thud against the floor. fabric, maybe.

before you can turn around, a presence fills the doorway behind you. you meet his reflection first - broad shoulders, familiar stance, relaxed but attentive. chan leans against the bathroom doorframe, like he’s taking you in slowly, deliberately. 

oh, and he’s completely naked.

“hey”, he says.

the sound of his voice sends a shiver straight down your spine.

“hey”, you say looking at him through the mirror.

he closes the distance between you, his reflection stepping closer in the mirror, until his chest is almost brushing your back. then, his hands come to rest on your waist, his palms soft against your skin. the touch is careful at first, grounding, like he’s checking in without words. he looks at you in the mirror instead of directly at you, his eyes searching yours.

“you okay?”, he asks quietly, “you holding up?”

you nod, a small smile tugging at your lips. 

“yeah, i’m a bit overwhelmed”, you glance at him through the glass, “but i’m good, don’t worry”

his shoulders ease at that, a soft huff of relief leaving him. 

“i figured”, he says, “but i still wanted to hear it from you”

he moves closer, his arms wrapping around you fully now, pulling you back against him. the contact is intimate without rushing - his chin near your shoulder, your bodies fitting together easily. you both look at yourselves in the mirror, the contrast striking: you marked and flushed, him steady and solid behind you.

“i thought things couldn’t get crazier than the last time but… guess i was wrong”, you laugh quietly

“yeah, i guess you could say that”, he chuckles against your shoulders, his eyes flicking over the reflection of your skin, the faint marks, the glow, “you really went through all of us”

“well, not yet”, you tease him, and that earns a low laugh from him. 

“right. my turn now”

his lips brush your neck then, slow and unhurried, a soft kiss that makes your breath hitch. another one follows, then another, lower this time. his voice hums against your skin. you feel his tongue tracing down your shoulder before he speaks again.

“is this a kink you have?”, he asks casually, “you know, you and the mirror?”

you smile, tilting your head slightly to give him better access. 

“i only discovered it today”, you say, “han’s fault”

he hums, amused, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, “of course it is”

you turn in his arms then, until you’re facing him. his hands stay on your waist, his thumbs brushing lightly as he looks down at you. there’s warmth there, but also something darker underneath.

“also”, you add lightly, tracing your finger down his chest, quickly looking down to see his cock hard and ready, “hyunjin already fucked me on top of furniture earlier. so unless you’re planning on copying someone, i’d suggest you get creative, my leader”

for half a second, he just stares at you and then, his mouth is on yours. the kiss is hungry but controlled, deep without being rushed. his hands tighten on your waist as he pulls you closer, and you melt into him, your fingers curling into his shoulders as the kiss deepens.

when he pulls back, just enough to breathe, his forehead rests against yours before he speaks.

“trust me”, he says, his lips brushing yours once more, “i’m not copying anyone tonight”

and the look in his eyes tells you exactly how serious he is.

before you can respond, chan’s mouth claims yours again. the kiss is intoxicating, his lips pressing firm against yours, his tongue slipping past your teeth to tangle with yours. you feel the warmth of his breath mingling with yours as your hands move to his chest, your fingers tracing the defined lines of his muscles. he groans into the kiss, and his arms tighten around your waist, pulling your naked body flush against his, making his erection press against your stomach, hard and insistent.

suddenly, his hand wraps around yours, and he tugs you back into the bedroom. you barely register what he’s doing as he guides you across the short distance to the nearest wall. your back meets the smooth surface with a soft thud, his body crowding in immediately, pinning you there without trapping you. his presence is dominant yet attentive, like he’s savoring every second of your surrender.

“has anyone fucked you so hard you couldn’t stand on your feet anymore?”, he asks you, his voice low and rough, the words laced with a challenge that sends a thrill straight to your core.

you gulp and shake your head, your breath catching at the raw edge in his tone, your cunt clenching in anticipation. no one has pushed you that far yet, not tonight, not ever, and the admission makes heat flood your cheeks.

“good”, he says, a satisfied smirk tugging at his lips, “then that one will be me”

he kisses you again, hungrier this time, devouring your mouth with a fervor that leaves no room for teasing. his tongue thrusts deep, while one hand fists in your hair, tilting your head back to deepen the angle. the pull is just right, a sting that makes you gasp into him, and his other hand grips your waist, his fingers digging into the soft flesh there as he grinds his hips forward. 

his cock slides against your stomach, hot and thick, the friction drawing a low grunt from his throat that rumbles against your lips. you moan in response, the sound muffled by his mouth, your body arching instinctively to press closer, your thighs parting slightly as you feel the slickness building between your legs again.

he breaks the kiss only to trail his lips along your jaw, nipping lightly before capturing your mouth once more, the rhythm of his grinding hips relentless. each roll presses him harder against you, his length trapped between your bodies, and you feel his precum smearing across your skin. 

your hands roam his back, your nails scraping down his muscles, urging him on as grunts escape him with every thrust. you match him, moaning louder, the wall cool against your spine while his heat envelops you, the contrast heightening every sensation until you’re both lost in the grind.

chan’s control is ironclad, though. he kisses down your neck, sucking a fresh mark just below your collarbone before dropping lower. his mouth maps your body with purpose, his lips brushing the swell of your breasts, his tongue flicking over a nipple that’s already hard from the cool air and his attention. 

you whimper as he sucks hard enough to make your knees weaken, his teeth grazing the sensitive peak before soothing it with his tongue. he doesn’t linger long on one side, moving to the other with the same intensity, his hands steadying your hips to keep you upright against the wall.

his kisses continue down your stomach, until he gets to the curve of your hips. he nips at the skin there, right over one of the fading marks from earlier, and you feel the possessive edge in the bite, claiming you again. 

finally, he sinks to his knees in front of you, the movement fluid and unhurried, his broad shoulders parting your thighs as he settles between them. his eyes lock on yours, looking up at you from this angle, his eyes dark with hunger. 

“i have to do something again”, he says, his voice husky, as his hands slide up your legs, his thumbs tracing your inner thighs until they reach your core.

you barely have time to process before his mouth is on you, his lips sealing over your clit in a hot, wet kiss that makes your head fall back against the wall. he licks a slow, broad stripe up your folds, tasting the remnants of your earlier releases mixed with fresh arousal, and he groans deeply. 

“fuck”, he moans against you, the vibration sending sparks through your body. 

his tongue delves deeper, parting your lips to lap at your entrance, circling with deliberate pressure that has your hips bucking forward. 

“f-fuck chris!”, you scream his name, the sound echoing off the walls, raw and desperate.

he doesn’t stop, instead, he adds his fingers, two sliding inside you with ease thanks to how soaked you are. they curl immediately, hooking against that spot that makes you scream louder, pumping in time with the flicks of his tongue on your clit. 

“please, chris, more, d-don't stop, fuck, i need it”, you beg him, your voice breaking on gasps, your hands fisting in his hair to hold him there. 

he hums against you, and looks up, his eyes locked on your face as he works you over. you can see the slickness coating his face, feel it dripping down his jaw from how messily he’s devouring you, your arousal leaking freely as your thighs tremble around his head.

“i couldn’t stop thinking about your taste since i had you”, he growls between licks, pulling back just enough to speak, his fingers still thrusting deep and steady, “when you sat on my face… fuck, one time was not enough. you’re so sweet, so wet for me, dripping like this. i could do this all day” 

his words make you clench around his fingers, and he dives back in, sucking your clit hard while moving his fingers inside you.

“chris! oh god, yes, right there please!”

the build is relentless, your body coiling tighter with every thrust of his fingers, every swirl of his tongue. you feel the edge closer, your moans turning to pleas as you grind against his face. but just as the orgasm almost hits you, he stops. his mouth lifts, his fingers slipping free with a wet sound, leaving you hanging, throbbing and empty, a whine tearing from your throat in protest.

you stare down at him, your chest heaving, the denial hitting you like a wave crashing and pulling back just as it peaks. your tears prick at the corners of your eyes, frustration and need blurring your vision. you’re so tired and overstimulated that this denial feels like torture. 

“chris, please- don’t stop, i was so close, fuck, i need you”, your voice cracks, your thighs quivering from the edge he left you on, your cunt clenching around nothing, aching for release.

he stands up slowly, his lips glistening with your wetness, his chin slick and shiny. his eyes never leave yours, dark and unyielding, making your heart stutter. as he stands fully, towering close, he cups your face, his thumbs brushing away the tears that spill over. 

“shh, baby”, he says, his voice soft but firm, leaning in to press his lips to yours in a soothing kiss. 

the taste of yourself lingers on his tongue as it slips into your mouth, swallowing your pleas. he pulls back just enough to whisper against your lips, “you’re doing so good for me, such a perfect girl, taking everything i give you”

his words ease the whine in your throat even as your body screams for more. he kisses you again, one hand sliding down to grip your hip while the other tangles in your hair, holding you steady. you melt into it, moaning softly as his praise sinks in, making you feel cherished even in the torment. 

“good girl”, he says between kisses, nipping your lower lip, “so patient, so wet and ready. you’re everything i want”

the ache between your legs pulses harder at his voice, but he doesn’t rush. his hard cock brushes against your thigh, thick and throbbing, the tip leaking as it nudges your skin. you reach for him, but he catches your wrist, guiding your hand away with a shake of his head. 

“remember what i told you”, he says, his voice dropping, sending shivers down your spine, “i’m gonna fuck you hard, make you forget how to stand”

before you can even react, he lines the head of his cock against your entrance, slick and open. he sinks inside you, stretching your walls until he’s buried to the hilt. you cry out, the fullness overwhelming after his teasing, your nails digging into his shoulders as your body adjusts to him. he groans low in his chest, his hips stilling for a moment to let you feel him - hot, pulsing, hard, filling every space.

then he starts moving, pulling back almost all the way before slamming forward, the force pinning you harder against the wall. your feet shift on the floor, your toes curling as he sets a brutal pace, each thrust deep and deliberate, his cock dragging against your inner walls. 

“fuck, you feel so good”, he says, his mouth crashing back to yours in a messy kiss. 

you kiss him back fiercely, while his hand slides up to cup your breast, his thumb rolling your nipple. moans spill from your lips into his mouth, turning to screams as he angles his hips, hitting that spot inside you with every thrust.

“chris- oh god, yes”, you moan, breaking the kiss to nip at his jaw, then his neck, sucking a mark into the skin just below his ear. 

he retaliates, his teeth grazing your throat, biting down enough to leave a fresh bruise. the pain mixes with pleasure, heightening everything as he fucks you relentlessly, the sound of skin slapping skin echoing in the room.

your legs tremble, threatening to give out, but he holds you up with ease, one arm around your waist, the other braced against the wall beside your head now. grunts rumble from him with each thrust, matching your cries. 

“you take me so well, baby, squeezing me like that” 

the words push you higher, the build starting again but fiercer this time. as your orgasm gets closer, your breaths coming in pants, your legs wobbling under you, he shifts, his hands dropping to grip your thighs, lifting one leg first, then the other, wrapping them around his waist. you lock your ankles behind him, the new angle letting him sink even deeper, his cock bottoming out with every snap of his hips. 

“fuck, c-chris, harder, please!”, you beg him, your head thrown back against the wall, your nails raking down his back as he picks up speed, pounding into you faster, the friction on your clit from his pelvis grinding against you with each thrust.

“that’s it, beg for me”, he says, his voice strained, his lips brushing your neck, “such a good girl, so tight and desperate. gonna make you come so hard” 

“yes, chris, don't stop… f-fuck me!”, your voice breaking on sobs of pleasure.

your orgasm looms closer, your walls clenching around his length, but just as it teeters on the brink, he stops again. buried deep, he stills completely, his hips flush against yours, and you groan in frustration, your tears falling again now. 

“no- chris, not again, please, i can’t- i need to come, fuck, don’t do this!”, you say, grinding desperately against him, but he doesn’t budge, his cock twitching inside you but not moving.

“shh, baby, i’ve got you”, he soothes you, capturing your lips in a tender kiss that contrasts his denial, his tongue gentle as he hushes your whimpers. 

one hand strokes your hair, the other supporting your weight as he begins to walk towards the bed, still inside you, every shift sending sparks through your oversensitive nerves. you cling to him, your legs tight around his waist, moaning into his mouth at the friction of him moving within you without thrusting.

he reaches the bed, lowering you both down without pulling out, your back hitting the soft sheets as he settles between your thighs. the mattress dips under his weight, and as soon as you’re lying down, he starts again, thrusting deep and hard, the pace even more punishing now. 

“i’m gonna make you come now”, he growls, propping himself on one elbow while his other hand slips between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit and circling it firmly. 

his cock slamming into you, hitting that spot inside, and his thumb pressing your swollen clit shatter the last of your control. you scream his name, your body arching off the bed as waves crash over you, your cunt spasming around him in violent pulses. 

“chris o-oh fuck” 

the orgasm rips through you, intense and unrelenting, and he doesn’t stop, fucking you through it, his fingers rubbing faster on your clit until you squirt, hot liquid gushing between you, soaking his hand and the sheets beneath. he groans loudly, the sight and feel pushing him over the edge, his thrusts erratic as he comes with you, his cock pulsing as he fills you with thick spurts of cum. 

“fuck… take it all, baby, that’s it”, he grunts, burying his face in your neck, marking you with a final bite as your shared release leaves you both trembling, screaming into each other’s skin.

he collapses over you with a low, shaky breath, his weight warm and grounding as the moment finally breaks. the only sound in the room is the sound of both of you trying to catch your breath. his forehead drops to your shoulder, his chest rising and falling against yours.

“hey”, he says after a second, lifting his head just enough to look at you, his thumb brushing your cheek, gentle now, “you good?”

you nod, still a little dazed, your eyes soft as you look back at him. 

“yeah”, you breathe, “i’m good, chris, don’t worry”

he lets out a small, fond laugh, pressing a slow kiss to your lips, then another to your temple. 

“you did amazing”, he says quietly, “not just with me. all of it. but i need to make sure you’re really okay”

the care in his voice makes your chest tighten. you reach up, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him down for another kiss. eventually, he shifts, careful as he slips out of you, his cum trickling down your thigh, and you feel just how sensitive you are when the air hits your skin. you hiss softly, and he freezes immediately.

“sorry”, he says, already moving again, “stay there”

he disappears for a moment and comes back with a towel, his movements slow and attentive as he helps you clean up. you flinch once or twice despite yourself, and each time he pauses, murmuring apologies, pressing light kisses to your knee, your stomach, anywhere he can reach.

“all done”, he says softly when he finishes, brushing his thumb over your hip, “it’s over now”

you don’t answer, you just look at him, your eyes tired and a little glassy, and pull him down for another kiss. he smiles into it, kissing you back just as gently. you try to shift, to sit up, and immediately sink back into the mattress with a laugh. 

“wow”, you say, “okay, yeah, not happening”

he laughs too, straightening as he pulls on his boxers. 

“i warned you”, he says, amused, “you weren’t going to be walking right away”

he leans down once more, brushing your hair back from your face, his thumb tracing your jaw. 

“we’ll be outside”, he tells you, “no rush, take your time. just come when you’re ready, okay?”

you hum softly in response, your eyes drifting closed for a moment. he gives you one last look and then heads for the door. it closes quietly behind him, leaving you alone again, stretched out on the bed, your body spent, staring at the ceiling, letting it all wash over you.

all of it.

every voice, every touch, every orgasm. the realisation settles in, almost unreal at first. you’ve had sex with all of them. every single one. the weight of that thought makes your chest feel hot and tight at the same time.

your body is exhausted. deliciously, bone-deep tired. your muscles ache in an extremely overstimulated way, your skin feels too sensitive for fabric, for air. and yet, underneath the fatigue, there’s something else still burning - a low, persistent pull that refuses to fade.

a craving.

this wasn’t supposed to go this far.

this started as curiosity, a joke that lingered in the air. then than first time, the boundaries blurred, shifted. and then one thing led to another, and suddenly here you are, having crossed every line you once thought was solid.

and now that you’ve stepped over it… you don’t want to step back.

you push yourself up slowly, pausing when your legs can’t even carry your own body. it takes a moment before you can fully stand, one hand braced against the bed as you steady yourself. when you finally move, it’s careful, step by step, your legs wobbling a bit.

you pull on a t-shirt and slip into your panties without much thought. modesty feels pointless now, they’ve seen every part of you, touched every inch. there’s nothing left to hide, and there’s nothing you want to hide.

you stop in front of the mirror one last time before leaving your room and you barely recognise yourself, not because you look different, but because of the way you’re standing. the way your eyes hold something new, confident, aware, hungry. 

you step out into the hallway, the air cooler, the house quiet, except for the low voices in the living room. with every step towards the living room, that feeling grows stronger, a pull you don’t fight. you don’t want to stop this, you don’t want today to be the end of whatever this has become.

when you enter the living room, they’re all there.

spread out, relaxed but alert. familiar silhouettes, familiar faces, watching you the second you appear. the room is thick with the aftermath of what they’ve done, heard, felt, imagined while waiting. you see their faces. you see their bodies. their boxers can’t lie.

their eyes track you openly and in that instant, you see it. the same thing that’s been sitting heavy in your chest all along. they feel it too.

you stop in the middle of the room, your heart thudding, the silence stretching just long enough to make it unbearable. and then you speak, your voice steady despite everything buzzing beneath your skin.

“i don’t want to end this here”

and the way they look at you - open, wanting, dark eyes gleaming with hunger - tells you everything you need to know.

maybe you don’t have to stop.

wheel series | event masterlist | the library

likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated 💛

divider by the amazing @lariesographic 💖

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[b4echo]

MIDNIGHT SNACK 、 ksm

──── ❛ it's not his fault that you look cute enough to eat while sleeping :(

❪ 𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐕𝐄 ❫ ﹒﹒ ksm x gn!reader 𝟭｡𝟮𝗸 smut somno dub-con cunnilingus

reblog4kiss ・・・ ❤︎

the room was dead quiet when seungmin opened his eyes. the digital clock on the nightstand read 3:14 am, the faint red numbers casting a low glow across the ceiling. he lay there on his back for a few minutes, staring at the shadows, waiting for sleep to pull him back under. it didn’t. his mind was just awake, refusing to shut down.

he rolled over onto his side, the mattress shifting slightly under his weight. you were fast asleep next to him, curled up with the blanket pulled halfway up your chest. your breathing was soft and steady, your shoulders rising and falling in a slow rhythm.

seungmin rested his head on his hand, just watching you in the dim light. you looked so peaceful. your hair was a little messy, a few strands clinging to your forehead, and your face was completely relaxed. he reached out, his long fingers carefully brushing those loose hairs back from your face so he could see you better.

he didn't mean to do anything else. he just wanted to feel close to you. he let his knuckles trail softly along the curve of your cheek, barely touching your skin. you let out a tiny, quiet sigh in your sleep, leaning slightly into his touch without waking up. it made something warm bloom in his chest. you were so pretty like this, so warm and soft and completely safe in his arms.

his hand drifted down to your shoulder, his thumb rubbing small, slow circles into your skin over the soft fabric of your t-shirt. he dragged his hand down your arm, feeling the soft heat radiating off you. he pulled the blanket down just a little bit, down past your waist, revealing the soft shorts you were wearing to bed.

he kept his touch light, tracing the side of your hip, his fingertips sliding over the waistband. he just wanted to stroke your skin, to keep comforting you while you slept. but as his hand lingered on your thigh, feeling the smooth skin there, he felt a sudden, familiar pulse low in his belly.

he tried to ignore it at first, shifting his hips back a bit. but as he kept looking at you—at your quiet face, your parted lips, the gentle rise and fall of your chest—the heat in his stomach only spread. he looked down at his own grey sweatpants and saw the obvious tent forming in the fabric. he was completely hard, his pulse thumping against his waistband.

seungmin swallowed hard, his throat dry. he looked back up at your face. you hadn't moved. you were still deep in sleep, completely unaware of how crazy you were making him just by lying there.

he couldn't help it anymore. he wanted to touch you. He wanted to make you feel good, even if you were asleep for it.

he carefully shifted closer, sliding one knee up between your legs. he brought his hand to the waistband of your shorts, his fingers hooking under the elastic. he moved slowly, keeping his eyes on your face, listening for any shift in your breathing as he gently pulled your shorts down over your hips. he guided them down your thighs and slid them off your legs, dropping them over the edge of the bed.

he reached up to turn your body slightly, laying you flat on your back. you murmured something unintelligible, your brow furrowing for a split second before you relaxed again, your legs falling open naturally in your sleep.

seungmin swallowed hard again, his mouth going completely dry at the sight of you. he shifted down the mattress, getting on his hands and knees between your thighs. the heat radiating from between your legs was intoxicating. he leaned down, placing a soft, lingering kiss on the inside of your thigh, right near your hip bone. you let out a soft, sleepy hum, your fingers twitching on the sheets.

"so pretty," he whispered under his breath, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

he moved closer, his hands resting gently on the inside of your knees to hold your legs apart. he lowered his head, his warm breath fanning over your sensitive skin. when he finally brought his tongue down against you, tasting your warm, slick skin, a tiny gasp escaped your lips.

seungmin smiled against you, taking his time. he kept his strokes long and wet, dragging his tongue up over your clit, taking in every drop of your taste. he listened closely to the sounds you were making. every time you let out a soft moan or your hips made a tiny, unconscious jerk against his mouth, his cock throbbed harder in his sweatpants.

he used his hands to hold you open, his thumb coming up to stroke softly over your sensitive spot while his mouth worked over you. he swirled his tongue around, lapping at you with a steady, rhythmic pressure.

"min..." you mumbled, your voice thick and raspy with sleep. your hands reached out blindly, your fingers tangling into his hair, tugging on the roots faintly. you weren't fully awake, just floating in that hazy, pleasurable space between dreaming and waking.

"i got you," he murmured against your wet skin, not stopping for a second. "just relax, baby. i'm taking care of you"

he picked up the pace, his tongue moving faster, pressing a little firmer against your sweet spot. the friction was driving you over the edge fast. your hips began to roll against his mouth, your thighs tightening around his head as your breathing hitched into sharp, shallow gasps.

“that’s it,” he whispered, feeling your body tense up. “come for me”

your chest heaved, a sweet, breathy whine breaking from your throat as your orgasm crashed over you. your inner muscles pulsed, squeezing tightly as the pleasure rippled through your body. seungmin didn’t pull away; he kept his mouth pressed to you, sucking gently and licking up your release until the shaking in your thighs finally began to subside.

as your body relaxed into the mattress, the intense feeling of giving you so much pleasure was too much for hisown body to handle. hovering over you, smelling you, and feeling your release had pushed him right over his own edge.

he didn’t even touch himself. he just stayed down between your legs, his chest breathing heavily, as his own cock throbbed violently inside his heavy cotton underwear. a quiet, shaky sigh spilled from his lips as he came straight into his pants, the hot release spilling into the fabric of his sweatpants in thick, heavy pulses. his eyes fluttered shut, his forehead resting against your inner thigh while he rode out his own climax silently.

when he finally caught his breath, he opened his eyes. you were fast asleep again, a small, content smile on your face, your hands resting softly over your stomach.

seungmin smiled, feeling a deep sense of quiet satisfaction. he kissed the skin of your inner thigh one last time before crawling back up the bed. he reached down to grab a towel from the nightstand to gently clean you off, then pulled the soft duvet back up over your shoulders, tucking you in carefully.

he slid back under the covers beside you, not bothering to change his messy sweatpants just yet. he pulled your body close to his chest, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face into the back of your neck. he took a deep breath of your scent, feeling completely warm, full, and exhausted.

within minutes, listening to the quiet rhythm of your breathing, seungmin finally drifted off to sleep.

hi hello i'm back this was based of this request by @applesrpeak this lowkey sucks im sorry😞😞

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