liyah

The apartment was too quiet.

In the late afternoon, the sun cast long, amber slants of light across the hardwood floor of the living room, illuminating tiny, dancing motes of dust in the air. Byun Euijoo’s apartment—no, their apartment, because they had shared this space for two years now—was in a state of absolute, sterile perfection.

You sat on the edge of the plush gray sofa, your chin resting heavily in the palm of your hand, staring blankly at the opposite wall.

Usually, there was something to do. A mountain of college assignments to conquer, a messy kitchen counter to scrub, a pile of laundry to fold. But today, the universe had conspired to leave you entirely, brutally free. Your essays were submitted; the apartment was so clean it practically gleamed; the novel on your nightstand had been finished last night, and you hadn't had the chance to buy a new one; even the television, with its endless catalog of streaming shows, felt incredibly flat.

You let out a long, dramatic groan, letting your body slide down the cushions until your head hung off the edge of the sofa, staring at the ceiling upside down.

"I am going to die of terminal boredom," you muttered to the empty room.

Then, the soft, distinct click of the digital lock at the front door echoed through the hallway.

Your ears perked up instantly. Like a predator catching the scent of its favorite prey, your boredom evaporated, replaced by a sudden, wicked spark of mischief.

"I'm home," a voice called out.

It was a beautiful voice—quiet, rich, and naturally gentle. Euijoo stepped into the entryway, sliding his shoes off with his usual neat precision. He looked slightly disheveled, the top button of his dress shirt undone, his dark hair falling softly over his forehead. He had had a long, exhausting day at his office internship, his shoulders carrying the faint slump of fatigue. Yet, the moment his eyes found you sprawling dramatically on the couch, his lips curved into that familiar, patient smile.

He walked over, his steps light on the floor, and leaned down. He didn't say a word about your ridiculous posture. Instead, he simply brushed a stray lock of hair from your forehead and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your skin.

"Did you have a good day, babe?" he murmured, his voice a warm hum.

You peered up at him, your eyes narrowing slightly as you took in his gentle expression. This was Euijoo. Always calm. Always understanding. In the two years you had lived together, you had never once heard him raise his voice. He was a deep, tranquil well of patience—a stark, almost comical contrast to your chaotic, attention-seeking nature. You loved to push him. You loved to tease, prod, and poke at his boundaries just to see how far they would stretch before he finally let out one of his trademark, long-suffering sighs.

Usually, that sigh was your cue of victory. Once you got him to sigh and shake his head with that fond, exasperated look, you would laugh, kiss his cheek, and behave.

But today... today, the boredom had left a restless, itchy sensation under your skin. Looking at his pristine, gentle demeanor, a sudden, dark urge flared within you. You didn't just want a sigh today. You wanted more. You wanted to crack that perfect, unbothered exterior. You wanted to see what lay beneath the saintly patience of Byun Euijoo.

"I was bored," you pouted, reaching up to tug lightly on his tie. "But now you're here."

Euijoo chuckled, a soft sound in his chest, and gently pat your cheek. "I'm going to take a shower first, alright? I feel dusty from the commute. Wait for me."

"Okay," you whispered, a slow, cat-like grin spreading across your face. "I'll wait in the bedroom."

As soon as the bathroom door clicked shut and the sound of rushing water filled the apartment, you sprang into action.

You walked into the bedroom, bypassing your usual oversized t-shirts and soft pajama pants. Instead, you opened the bottom drawer of the dresser, rummaging through the silk and lace until your fingers brushed against a specific piece of fabric.

It was a white satin nightgown. It was short—skimming just below your hips—with a low-cut back and delicate lace detailing along the bust. The material was incredibly smooth, clinging to your curves in a way that left very little to the imagination. You slid it on, shivering slightly as the cool satin met your warm skin, and climbed onto the bed.

You propped yourself up against the pillows, posing with a calculated air of innocence, though your eyes were fixed hungrily on the master bathroom door.

After what felt like an eternity, the sound of the shower died down. A few moments later, the door clicked open, and a wave of warm, eucalyptus-scented steam billowed into the bedroom.

And then, Euijoo stepped out.

You stopped breathing.

He was drying his hair with a small white towel, his dark locks damp and messy, sticking up in endearing tufts. But your gaze quickly traveled downward, and any thoughts of "endearing" vanished. He wasn't wearing clothes. A single, large white towel was wrapped precariously low around his waist, hanging dangerously off his prominent hip bones.

His chest was bare, glistening with stray droplets of water that slowly rolled down the defined, lean planes of his torso. Euijoo wasn't overly bulky, but he possessed a deceptively athletic, broad-shouldered frame—the kind of body built from years of quiet discipline. His collarbones were sharp, his chest broad, and his abdominal muscles cut a beautiful, shadow-draped pattern in the dim light of the bedroom.

He was a masterpiece. A quiet, breathtaking work of art.

You stared. You stared so long and so hard that you didn't even realize you were biting your lower lip until Euijoo stopped drying his hair, lowering the towel to look at you.

He blinked, taking in your attire—the white satin nightgown that barely covered you, your flushed cheeks, and the intense, hungry look in your eyes. He let out a soft, breathy laugh, shaking his head.

"(y/n)?" he called out, his voice laced with amusement. "Babe? Are you staring?"

You didn't answer. Slowly, like a siren drawn to water, you slid off the bed. Your bare feet made no sound on the carpet as you crossed the distance between you, your eyes never leaving his.

When you reached him, the scent of his body wash—fresh, clean, and masculine—wrapped around your senses. You reached out, your fingertips trembling slightly as you pressed your palms flat against his broad, damp shoulders. The skin was warm, a delicious contrast to the cool air of the room. Slowly, you dragged your hands down, feeling the firm muscles of his chest, the heavy, steady beat of his heart beneath your palms.

Euijoo’s breath hitched. His hands, still holding the small hair towel, tensed.

"Babe," he murmured, his voice dropping an octave, carrying a warning tone that was still entirely too gentle. "I'm really tired today. It was a long day at the office."

He was rejecting you. Gently, of course, because he was Euijoo.

But you weren't going to accept that. The rejection only fueled the stubborn, restless fire inside you. You leaned closer, your body brushing against his, the thin satin of your nightgown doing absolutely nothing to block the heat radiating from his skin. You tilted your head up, your eyes wide, glittering with a deliberate, heavy sensacy.

"Just a little bit, Ju," you purred, your hands sliding down to trace the sharp lines of his ribs, your thumbs brushing dangerously close to the waistband of his towel. "I'll do all the work. You just have to lie there."

Euijoo swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. He reached down, his large, warm hands wrapping around your wrists, stopping your wandering fingers.

"No," he said, his voice soft but firm. "You have a nine a.m. lecture tomorrow, remember? You need to sleep."

You frowned. Of course he knew your schedule. He always did. He kept track of your classes, your exams, your life, always looking out for you like the perfect, responsible partner he was.

But right now, his perfection was driving you insane. You didn't want the responsible Euijoo. You wanted the man behind the mask. You wanted to hear him lose his breath, to see him lose control. You wanted him ferocious, wild, untamed.

"I don't care about my lecture," you whispered, your voice turning sharp, laced with a sudden, daring defiance.

Before he could respond, you planted your hands firmly on his chest and shoved him.

Euijoo, caught off guard by your sudden burst of strength, stumbled backward. His back hit the wooden door of the wardrobe with a solid, muffled thud.

Before he could recover, you lunged forward. You grabbed his face with both hands, tilting his head down, and crashed your lips against his.

It wasn't a gentle kiss. It was hot, messy, and demanding—a physical manifestation of all the pent-up boredom and frustration you had carried all afternoon. You forced your tongue past his lips, tasting the minty freshness of his toothpaste and the deep, intoxicating heat of his mouth. You kissed him like you wanted to consume him, your body pressing flat against his, pinning him to the wardrobe.

Euijoo went entirely rigid. His hands hovered in the air for a fraction of a second before slowly landing on your shoulders. You felt his fingers twitch, preparing to gently, firmly push you away to lecture you about boundaries and sleep.

‘Oh no, you don't,’ you thought.

Knowing this was your only chance to break him, you played your final card.

While your mouth continued to feast on his, your right hand slid down, past his ribs, past his hip bone, and deliberately slipped beneath the loose fold of the towel wrapped around his waist. Your fingers searched in the dark until they wrapped around his thick, fully engorged length.

"Mmmgh-!"

A deep, strangled gasp broke from Euijoo’s throat, vibrating directly into your mouth. His entire body shuddered, his muscles tightening like steel cords under your touch.

You pulled back from the kiss, a triumphant, wicked smirk playing on your swollen lips. You looked down, your hand slowly, rhythmically stroking the thick, pulsing heat of him.

"Oh, my..." you whispered, your voice dripping with mock sympathy. "Look at this, Euijoo. You say no with your mouth, but your body... your body is such a liar, sweetheart."

You squeezed him gently, running your thumb over the crown of his length, feeling the bead of pre-cum that had already gathered there.

Euijoo’s eyes were squeezed shut. His head was tilted back against the wardrobe door, his jaw clenched so hard the muscles stood out in sharp relief. He bit his lower lip, a low, pained groan escaping his nose as he tried to battle the sheer pleasure your hand was inflicting on him.

"B-babe..." he choked out, his voice trembling, a desperate plea hidden beneath the strain.

"You smell so good," you ignored his plea, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

You inhaled deeply, the scent of his clean skin and the heat of his arousal dizzying your senses. You pressed hot, wet kisses along his collarbone, your tongue licking a path up his throat before you found a particularly sensitive spot right below his ear. You sucked on the skin, a soft, deliberate session, your hand continuing its torturous, slow stroking down below.

"(y/n)... please," Euijoo gasped, his hands on your shoulders tightening, his nails digging slightly into your skin. "Don't... you know I'm trying to hold back—"

"Then don't," you whispered against his skin, your teeth lightly grazing his earlobe. "Stop holding back, Ju. Show me."

In an instant, the air in the room shifted.

The quiet, patient, gentle boyfriend you knew vanished, swallowed whole by a sudden, terrifyingly dark aura.

Before you could even register the change, Euijoo’s hands gripped your waist. His grip was so tight, so sudden, that you let out a small gasp. With a display of raw, effortless strength that made your stomach flip, he lifted you off your feet. You felt completely weightless, your legs instinctively wrapping around his hips as he carried you across the room in three large, aggressive strides.

He didn't lay you down gently.

He sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, keeping you lay on your stomach onto his lap. His face was dark, his eyes narrowed into twin slits of pure, unadulterated lust and a dangerous flicker of anger.

Before you could utter a single word, Euijoo reached down, grabbed the hem of your white satin nightgown, and yanked it up to your waist, bunching the fabric around your ribs. Your lower half was exposed, save for the thin lace panty you wore.

Without a word, Euijoo hooked his fingers into the side strap of your underwear. With one powerful, impatient tug, the delicate fabric tore with a sharp rip, exposing your dripping, swollen slit to the cool air of the room.

SLAP!

A sharp, stinging pain exploded across your left buttock.

"Ah!" you screamed, your body jerking violently, your hands clutching your bed cover for dear life. The sound of the slap had been incredibly loud in the quiet room, echoing like a whip crack.

"E-Euijoo..." you gasped, your eyes wide with shock, looking at him.

"Quiet," Euijoo said, his voice incredibly quiet, but it carried a razor-sharp, chilling edge that made a shiver of fear—and intense arousal—run straight down your spine. "This is what you wanted, isn't it? You wanted to push me."

SLAP!

"Ah-!"

Another strike landed, this time on the right side, even harder than the first. The pain was immediate, a deep, throbbing heat that made your breath catch in your throat.

"I just came home from a twelve-hour shift," Euijoo growled, his hand hovering over your reddening skin. "And instead of letting me rest, you decide to act like a brat. A needy, misbehaving brat."

SLAP!

You let out a broken whimper, your head falling to the bed. Your heart was hammering against your ribs. You had always known Euijoo was strong, but you had never imagined him using that strength like this. This wasn't the gentle spanking of a playful lover; he was genuinely punishing you, channeling all his pent-up stress and the frustration of your constant teasing into every strike.

"You've been testing my patience for weeks," Euijoo continued, his voice low and dangerous as he stared down at your blushing, trembling thighs. "Always teasing, always running your mouth, thinking I would just smile and let it go. You wanted to see what happens when I stop being nice, right?"

SLAP!

"Ngh! Please, Ju..." you cried out, your fingers digging into his back. The skin of your bottom was burning, fully flushed a deep, beautiful pink.

"Look at you," Euijoo whispered, his voice suddenly shifting into a dark, mocking tone.

He slid his hand down, his long, thick fingers brushing against the highly sensitive folds betweenyour thighs. The moment his fingers made contact, he let out a dark, mocking chuckle. Your slit was drenched, completely flooded with thick, slippery moisture that coated his hand instantly.

"I barely slap you a few times, and you're already dripping like a faucet? Such a masochist little slut," he murmured, his thumb rubbing over your swollen clitoris, making you twitch on his lap.

"No, I-I'm not—"

"Shut up."

Without any warning, Euijoo shoved two of his long fingers deep into your tight, soaking wet channel.

"Ahhh!" you screamed, your back arching.

He didn't give you time to adjust. He immediately began to pump his fingers inside you with a brutal, relentless speed. He wasn't being gentle; he was thrusting deep, his fingers hitting your G-spot over and over again, while his thumb kept up a punishing, heavy friction on your clitoris.

The pleasure was overwhelming, too fast, too intense. Your head spun as you clung to his neck, your hips helplessly rolling against his hand, chasing the friction.

"E-Euijoo! Oh god, Ju... please, I'm... I'm gonna—"

Your internal walls began to contract violently, a massive, crushing wave of an orgasm building rapidly in your lower abdomen. You could feel it, the sweet, explosive release just a second away.

But right as you were about to cross the threshold, Euijoo abruptly ripped his fingers out of you.

The sudden loss of friction felt like a physical shock. Your body convulsed in frustration, your breath caught in your throat, your orgasm suspended in a torturous, agonizing limbo.

SLAP!

He smacked your throbbing bottom once more, hard enough to make you sob.

"You want to come?" Euijoo sneered, his eyes dark and merciless. "Not that fast, brat. I haven't given you permission."

Before you could protest, Euijoo gripped your hips and threw you backward onto the bed.

You landed heavily on your back, your hair splaying across the sheets. Before you could even try to sit up, Euijoo crawled over you. He grabbed your ankles, pushing your knees all the way up to your shoulders, forcing your legs wide open.

Your wet, pink, and glistening pussy was fully exposed to his gaze, trembling and leaking fluid onto the sheets.

Your eyes were swimming with tears of frustration, your chest heaving as you looked up at him. "E-Euijoo... please... I need to... please let me come..." you sobbed, your voice breaking.

"No," Euijoo said, his face cold, though his breathing was heavy. "Bad girls don't get what they want. You need to learn how to wait."

He reached out and, with a sudden, humiliating slap, he struck your bare, sensitive breast.

Plak!

"Ah!" you gasped, a fresh tear escaping your eye. The pain was sharp, but the sheer degradation of it sent a jolt of raw electricity straight to your brain, making your dripping slit clench even tighter.

"Oh, look at you..." Euijoo murmured, his expression softening into something incredibly twisted and sweet. He leaned down, his thumb gently wiping away the tear rolling down your cheek. "You look so beautiful when you cry, sweetheart. Should I make you cry some more?"

Without waiting for an answer, his hand slid down. He didn't penetrate you this time. Instead, he pinched your swollen clitoris between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it back and forth with a slow, agonizing pressure.

"Ngh! Ah! Ju, stop, please... it's too much..." you thrashed against his grip, but his other hand was pinning your thighs down, rendering you completely helpless.

Your walls were twitching, contracting around nothing, desperately seeking the fullness of his length to satisfy the itch deep inside your womb. Euijoo watched your helpless struggle, a dark, pleased smirk on his lips.

"What's wrong? Isn't this what you wanted?" he asked, his voice low and teasing. "You wanted me to be rough. You wanted me to lose control. Why are you begging me to stop now?"

You could only shake your head frantically, your hands clutching the sheets. The denial of your orgasm was turning into a literal torture, making every nerve ending in your body hypersensitive.

"Euijoo, please... I'll be good... I swear I'll be good... just let me come..." you pleaded, sob-deshed.

He stared down at you for a long moment, his thumb slowing down on your clitoris, letting the tension build to an unbearable point.

"Do you really want to come that badly?" he asked softly.

"Yes... please... ahh-"

he suddenly press his thumb against your clitoris, combined with a sudden, deep thrust of his two fingers back into your wetness, your body finally snapped.

You shrieked, your entire body spasming violently as a massive, overwhelming orgasm ripped through you. Your vision went white as your fluids squirted out, soaking his hand and the sheets beneath you. Your thighs trembled uncontrollably, your chest rising and falling as you tried to find your breath.

But as your orgasm began to fade, you heard Euijoo let out a low, dangerous hum.

"Oh..." he whispered, his voice dripping with dark promise. "I don't remember giving you permission to come, (y/n). You really are a disobedient little thing, aren't you?"

Your heart leaped into your throat. You knew that tone.

You were in so much trouble.

Euijoo didn't give you a single second to recover.

With a rough tug, he stripped the remaining white satin nightgown over your head, leaving you completely naked and shivering on the bed. He then reached down to his waist, unknotting the towel and tossing it aside.

Your eyes widened as you stared at his erection. It was massive, fully engorged, the thick veins pulsing along the shaft, the tip dark red and leaking heavy drops of pre-cum.

Before you could think, Euijoo reached out, grabbed a handful of your hair, and yanked you toward the edge of the bed. He forced you down onto your knees on the floor, while he stood right in front of you.

"Open up," he commanded, his voice cold.

When you hesitated for a fraction of a second, his grip on your hair tightened, pulling your head back so you had to look up at him. He raised his free hand and delivered a sharp slap to your cheek.

Plak!

"No teeth, baby. You know the rules," he whispered.

You swallowed your whimpers, opening your mouth wide. Euijoo didn't wait. He guided his thick, throbbing length to your lips and shoved it inside.

"Mmmgh-!"

The sheer size of him filled your oral cavity completely, his tip pushing directly against the back of your throat. You choked, your hands desperately grasping his thighs as your eyes watered.

Euijoo let out a deep, guttural growl of satisfaction. He didn't let you dictate the pace. Holding your head firmly by your hair, he began to thrust his hips forward, forcing his thick shaft in and out of your mouth in a brutal, rhythmic pace.

Gag. Gag.

You couldn't breathe. Every time he thrust deep, your throat convulsed, tears streaming down your face, wetting his lower abdomen. You tapped his thigh frantically, begging for a break, but Euijoo was completely gone, consumed by the raw power of having you entirely at his mercy.

"Ah... your throat, baby... so tight... so warm..." he groaned, his head tilted back as he increased the speed, his hips slapping against your chin.

He face-fucked you relentlessly, pushing you to your absolute limit until your vision began to blur and spotty. Only when he felt you truly turning limp did he finally pull out with a wet, heavy gasp.

You collapsed on the floor, coughing violently, desperate chestfuls of air rushing into your lungs as saliva mixed with pre-cum ran down your chin.

But Euijoo wasn't done. He grabbed your arms, hauling your weak body back onto the bed, throwing you onto your back. He grabbed your ankles and lifted your legs high in the air, holding them up with his left hand.

He stared down at your swollen, dripping slit.

"This pussy needs to be taught a proper lesson," he murmured.

SLAP!

He smacked your wet pussy.

"Ahhhh!" you shrieked, the sting of the slap on your highly sensitized clitoris making you sob openly. "Euijoo, please! No more! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

"I told you, you started this," Euijoo said, his voice entirely devoid of his usual warmth. "So you have to take it."

He let go of your ankles, letting your legs fall wide open. He crawled between your thighs, his thick, heavy chest pressing down on yours. He grabbed his erection, rubing the wet, pre-cum covered tip against your sensitive clitoris, teasing you with light, agonizing slaps of his shaft.

"Do you want this cock so badly, you slut?" he whispered in your ear.

"Yes... yes, please, Euijoo... give it to me..."

"Ask nicely."

"Please, Master... put it in... please..." you begged, completely broken.

Euijoo smiled—a dark, victorious smile.

With one heavy, merciless drive of his hips, he buried his entire length inside you.

The Rock and the Storm

"NGHAAAA-!"

You screamed, your fingers clawing at the headboard. The entry was incredibly tight, stretching you to your absolute limit. You tried to push his shoulders away, trying to create some space because he was too deep, too heavy.

But Euijoo was like a solid rock, entirely unbothered by your weak struggles. He didn't back out. Instead, he leaned all his weight into you, grinding his pelvis hard against yours, forcing himself even deeper until his pubic bone crashed against yours.

You sobbed, your body shaking as another wave of intense, overwhelming pleasure began to build immediately. Your walls were squeezing him so tightly, trying to cope with the sheer volume of him inside you.

Euijoo looked down at your flat stomach. Because of how thin you were, and how deeply he was buried inside you, you could actually see the distinct, terrifying bulge of his shaft stretching the skin of your lower abdomen.

He let out a low, proud chuckle. He reached down and pressed his fingers directly against that bulge, pushing it.

"Ngh! Ah! Oh god-!"

"Look at this, sweetheart," Euijoo whispered, his voice thick with lust. "Your tight little pussy is struggling so much to hold me. You're stretched so wide."

He pressed the bulge again, and the internal friction was so intense that your body instantly short-circuited. You screamed, your legs locking around his waist as you fell into another violent orgasm, your walls pulsing around him like a vice grip.

"Another one?" Euijoo asked, tilting his head with a mock expression of disappointment, though his eyes were blazing with heat. "You really can't control yourself, can you?"

"No... no, please—ah!"

Euijoo didn't let you rest. The moment your orgasm began to subside, he started to move.

And he moved fast.

"Since you love coming so much without my permission, I'm going to make sure you come until you can't even stand," he growled.

He pinned both of your wrists above your head with one hand, his grip like iron. With his other hand, he gripped your hip, digging his fingers deep into your flesh, securing you in place.

Then, he began to slamming into you.

The pace was brutal. He was thrusting with a savage, animalistic rhythm, his hips crashing against yours with deafening, wet slaps. Every thrust was deep, raw, and heavy. He was completely driving you crazy, his body working yours like a machine.

He leaned down, crashing his mouth against yours. He didn't kiss you gently. He shoved his tongue deep into your mouth, tangling it with yours, swallowing your loud, broken moans and sucking the very air from your lungs. You were completely consumed, unable to breathe, unable to think, only able to feel the relentless, heavy stretching of his cock inside you.

His hand moved from your wrists down to your breasts, grabbing one of them and squeezing it with a rough, bruising force. He pulled his mouth away from yours, burying his face in your chest. He bit, licked, and sucked on your collarbones and breasts, leaving deep, dark purple marks all over your skin, all while his lower half continued its relentless assault.

The contrast was mind-blowing. This was Euijoo. The boy who made you tea when you had cramps, the boy who gently tucked you in at night, the boy who never raised his voice.

And now, he was completely destroying you, his face flushed, his eyes wild, treating your body like his personal playground. The sheer turn-on of seeing him like this sent your arousal skyrocketing to dangerous heights.

You felt another orgasm building, even more powerful than the last ones.

Euijoo felt the sudden, tight clenching of your walls. He pulled his head up, his dark hair damp with sweat, looking down at your messy, beautiful face.

"Want to come again, baby?" he pant, his voice incredibly husky.

You could only nod weakly, your lips parted as you let out broken, incoherent whimpers. Your eyes were glossy, completely lost in the pleasure.

Seeing you completely ruined under him, Euijoo let go of all restraint. He increased the pace even more, his thrusts becoming short, sharp, and incredibly fast.

"Ah! Ah! Ju! Euijoo! Ahh!"

"Sshit... you're so tight... (y/n)..." Euijoo groaned, his jaw clenching as your walls squeezed him with an agonizing grip.

With three more powerful, deep drives that shoved your head against the headboard, both of you reached the edge.

You screamed, your body arching off the bed as a massive, screaming orgasm ripped through you, your fluids squirting out onto his stomach. A split second later, Euijoo let out a loud, guttural roar. He thrust one final time, burying himself to the hilt, and unleashed a massive, burning torrent of his seed deep inside your womb.

He held himself there, his body twitching as he poured wave after wave of hot semen inside you, filling you to the brim.

Eventually, his strength gave out, and Euijoo collapsed heavily on top of you.

Both of your chests were heaving, the sound of your rapid, tangled breathing the only noise in the room. The air was thick with the scent of sex, sweat, and spilled fluids.

After a few minutes of quiet recovery, Euijoo slowly pushed himself up. He looked down, pulling his semi-erect length out of you with a wet 'schlich'.

He smirked, a soft, incredibly satisfied look on his face as he looked at your red, leaking, abused pusyy, your trembling thighs, and the countless dark marks covering your neck, chest, and shoulders. You looked completely claimed. Anyone who saw you would know exactly who you belonged to.

Without a word, Euijoo slid down to lie beside you.

He pulled you close, slipping your arm under his head as a pillow, and pulled the thick blanket over both of your naked, sticky bodies. He snuggled close, burying his face directly into your chest, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist.

To your surprise, he opened his mouth and gently latched onto your nipple, sucking on it with a soft, slow rhythm, like a quiet baby seeking comfort after a long storm.

You let out a weak, exhausted chuckle. The contrast was back. The beast had gone back to sleep, and your gentle, sweet Euijoo had returned.

You shifted slightly, getting comfortable, and ran your fingers through his soft, damp hair, brushing it back from his forehead. You held him close, letting him suckle on your breast, until the heavy weight of sleep finally dragged both of you down into a deep, peaceful slumber.

kei, grunting above you, light haloed around his head—hips thrusting deep into your cunt as you wail and whimper beneath him. it all just feels too good, the stimulation on your clit from his thumb, combined with a rolling, punishing thrust from k  has warmth pooling in your belly. it’s a strange feeling, bladder full as he kei fucks you so, so good. “k—kei, wait it feels—“

you’re squirming, heels weakly digging into his back. kei’s palm finds your belly, pressing down—broken moan spilling past your lips at the pressure. “my pretty girl gonna piss herself? such a nasty girl.” kei’s breathing is coming in harsh pants, thrusting his cock into you over and over again as the heel of his palm digs into your belly. you’re trembling under him, head shaking back and forth at his question. 

“kei, I can’t— no—“you're cut off by another drawn-out moan ripping from your throat, the pressure too much. small trickles of piss squelch out around his cock, spilling warm droplets down your thighs. 

your cunt flutters around him, warmth finally gushing out as you moan from embarrassment. piss soaks the sheets beneath you, your cheeks burning hot. kei groans loudly, desperate and longing at the sight of you letting go like this. his hips snap harder, piss still leaking around his cock until he presses in deep, cum spilling forth into you. His cock throbs against your walls, lazily grinding his hips into you to fuck his cum deeper.

©sylkenfilth 2026

“he knows he’s overdue on sleep yet he’d rather play games first? unbelievable,” you faintly whispered, eyes finally drifting away from the small words on your book to steady on the figure in the opposing chair. you smiled. there sat a very sleepy fuma, recently dyed bangs falling gently over his eyes, head lightly nodding down every few minutes before bobbing back up as if nothing happened. his mouth hung the slightest bit open, soft sighs slipping from his pouty, blush tinted lips as his body relaxed against the cozy material of your furniture. every last bit of his being radiated this drowsy air that he just refused to accept.

thump.

you stifled a short giggle as you watched his expression turn to a frown for a split second before relaxing back into place. something about the way he tried to fight against the temptation of sleep, restraining himself from giving in was laughable, a surprisingly wholesome sight.

an indescribable warmth filled your heart. being in a relationship with fuma, you weren’t one to argue with how and who he spent his spare time with. he’s a grown adult with a full-time career doing what he loves with who he loves. there was no reason to be mad about something like that, especially when, despite his hectic schedules, he still found time to spare and share it with you.

so whether he spent his free time with you catching up on each other’s day, his members sharing silly stories and laughs, his family bonding over a home cooked meal or by himself opening another set of pokémon cards as he waited for his game to load, you respected all of it like he did with yours… however, there was only so much you could tolerate.

thump.

“okay, that’s it. let’s get you to bed,” you chuckled, pushing yourself up with the blanket still wrapped tightly around your body. his eyes fluttered open at the sound of his phone falling for the nth time today. he reached down to pick the device off the floor, screen still glowing bright with the settings function popped up mid-game. his thumb must’ve clicked it by accident.

“i’m fine,” he rebutted, hand moving to cover up his mouth, face contorting to suppress the yawn that wanted so badly to make itself known. “swear ‘m not tired yet.” an obvious lie.

fingers slipped into his hair running through the soft strands that framed his tired face. tears brimmed the lower lashline, the apples of his cheeks dusted with pale hue of pink, yet more signs of his fatigue taking over. staring directly at him with an unwavering stare, you deadpanned, “fuma, honey, you dropped your phone because you’re falling asleep.”

“was an accident,” he mumbled quietly, voice barely audible even in the muted room.

“really? which time?”

“...well–”

“i personally lost count after the third drop. you?” your strict tone cutting through the silence made him pause from talking back. he knew you were right. the side of his mouth ticked upwards, a breathy sigh leaving his tongue as your fingers traced down the side of his face, curling under his chin with a firm hold. “come on.”

the natural flush of his cheeks climbed up to the tips of his ears, embarrassed from the way you caught him in a clear lie and shy at how easily you took charge of his carefree self. fuck, they’re so hot like this. seeing you all determined and reliable wasn’t a new sight, but with him usually taking the lead out of his natural instinct, it sure as hell wasn’t a sight he saw often.

he wanted to argue, get you to back down, but… if me refusing to sleep causes them to act more dominating over me, you can sign me right up. truly an unfair experience. the power you had over him with every little action you made was unbelievable.

“fuma,” your hand reached out towards him, face automatically smiling as he immediately obeyed, placing his hand in yours. the heat of his palms blended into your own, the pad of his thumb grazing over the texture of your skin as if he were trying to commit it to memory. so uniquely you.

with a groan he pushed himself up: 10% because you tugged him upwards and 90% because he planted his feet on the ground to make it easier for you. practically a team effort. without warning, fuma flopped against your figure, heavy arms wrapping itself around your neck as he leaned the majority of his weight on you. naturally, he closed his eyes once again in tiredness. what a cute yet inconvenient way of thanking you.

“ugh, fuu. this is what i get for caring about your health,” you whined and pushed back, face scrunching up to get some of his weight off you. “you’re welcome by the way.”

he shook his head, burying his head by the crook of your neck. god, even with your small comments, every day he fell more and more for you. “mhmm. thank you, pretty.” voice a low hum with a grin proudly deepening as soon as he saw his words take effect. he waited but you didn't answer, so he leaned up to your cheek and planted a gentle peck. flustered stutters slipped as he pulled back satisfied at his small act of love. so cute.

before he could do anything else heart flustering, you wrapped your own arms around him, slowly moving your joint bodies towards the bedroom with the occasional grumbles. “for someone who just said they weren’t all that tired, where’s that awake energy gone?” at this point, you were practically dragging his feet along the floor.

you turned and pulled his arms from your neck, watching fuma plop onto the bed with a sleepy smile. “it went into loving you,” he bluntly stated, legs spreading just slightly, encasing you in his muscular arms before resting his head on your stomach in comfort.

“ugh, shut it.” you cringed, shutting your eyes in disgust making a sound of disapproval as you felt his laughter rumble over your stomach. it annoyed you how he knew even the cheesiest words sounded like honeyed compliments in your ears. “you definitely need to sleep after that.”

before you could even take a step back, his grip around you tightened, shoulders stiffening to the touch. “fuma?”

“don’t wan’ you to go.”

“my love, i have to clean up the living room. i’ll join you later.” gently, you placed a hand atop of his head, stroking the smooth strands of dyed hair while you allowed him to pull you closer. “you can sleep with eevee for now while i finish the dishes, right?”

your eyes drifted over to the side, a particularly shaped object catching your attention. a small eevee plush resting among the collection of other pokémon related pillows, plushies, and merchandise that he adorned your room in. the sight of the item drew a smile from your face, heart softening at the darling memory of him fanboying at you finally sharing an interest in his adorably, partially nerdy passions.

he pressed a delicate kiss on your stomach, the cotton fabric of your (his) shirt doing nothing to stop the warmth of his plush lips from seeping through. one by above you bellybutton, another nearing the side of your waist, then another just under your ribcage. with each brush of his mouth across your body, you couldn’t help it; melting in his hold until you slowly sank yourself to straddle his lap, arms enveloping you as you both acknowledged that he won this battle.

he stared at you for a beat longer, shaking his head in response. “it isn’t the same, is it pretty?” his hands rested on your hips massaging the fat that covered the pelvic bone, whispering sweet nothings about how good you looked. that’s when you felt it, that pounding pulse that stretched over your chest, the lull atmosphere of the late night making you give in to his wishes.

“i want you tonight. please stay with me.”

slowly, he placed a hand at the back of your neck, pulling you down, closer into his hold. and before you could get a word in, his lips pressed against yours. kissing you with the utmost care, perfectly slotting between your own as you sighed into it. “please,” he begged as your hand tangled in his hair, tugging his head up so you could deepen the kiss.

holds tight, almost like each one was afraid of losing the other. you rested a hand over his chest, the erratic thumping of his heart slowing down to match the rhythm of your own breathing. his teeth nibbled on the swollen skin of your lips, slipping his tongue. every sigh, kiss, whimper that he ripped from your throat, his eyes further squeezed shut at the melody ringing in his ears, tempted to suck on the tip of your tongue to draw out another sweet sound. a shaky and weak groan left his lips, pulling back to rest his forehead against your own as you both caught your breath.

the corners of his mouth twitched into a smirk seeing a string of saliva split, falling over your slick lips. his thumb carefully swiped over the clear fluid, popping the spit-covered thumb into his own mouth, tongue grazing the pad with a satisfied sigh. “you can do that. can’t you, pretty?” he asked, tired voice sounding deep and raspy while he played with the hem of your shirt.

you absentmindedly nodded, head in a daze from his kiss. his lips moved to litter pecks across any area exposed, sucking flushed marks at the skin by your neck. with every moment that passed, all the tension in your body melted away, dissolving into his warmth. “come now.”

his arms soon picked you up, body feeling weightless in his hold, soon settling the both of you under the thick, cozy sheets. you shimmied yourself into his warm embrace, grinning in delight as the sound of his light chuckle reached your ears. “thank you for caring, pretty.” he mumbled, exhaustion and heavy eyelids finally taking over.

the sight of him, thoughts coming to a rest with his mind drawing into a peaceful slumber, made your heart flutter. eyelashes casting long shadows over the top of his cheeks, lips kissed swollen parting with each exhale, slim fingers and calloused palm clinging to yours as, even in a deep slumber, he refused to let you go.

words stuck in your throat, too nervous to speak at the chance of disturbing him from a much needed rest. awake or not, he was beyond beautiful in your eyes.

“good night, my love. sleep tight.”

taglist: @hironoshimura -> asked: @dorlithesweetest

Nicholas turned his face slightly, exposing the side of his face to Yuma.

As Yuma leaned forward to lay his chest on Nicholas' back, the rest of his dick slid up his ass.

He could feel Nicholas tense up around his cock, so he brought his lips down and kissed him softly.

Nicholas was hesitant at first, but eventually kissed Yuma back. Yuma stuck his tongue into Nicholas' mouth and he slowly sucked on it.

Yuma then crept his hands up to hold onto Nicholas' fist on the sheets.

Feeling Nicholas relax beneath him, Yuma slowly lifted his hips up, pulling out of him halfway, before he brought himself back down into him.

Nicholas detached his lips from Yuma's, and hissed as he grit his teeth.

"Shhhhh." Yuma whispered.

"Relax."

As Yuma sat back up on his knees, Nicholas turned his face and buried it in the mattress, bracing himself for Yuma.

Yuma however, was smiling. He'd been waiting for this moment for a while now.

Looking down at Nicholas' broad back beneath him, he bent down and licked it.

"Go easy." Nicholas whispered.

Yuma kissed his hair and sat back up.

"Always." He replied.

-

After admiring the view, Yuma placed both of his hands on Nicholas' hips, and slowly thrusted into him.

When Yuma's hips touched Nicholas' skin, he let out a sigh.

"Oh fuck."

He thrusted into him again,

And again,

And again.

And before the poor bottom could adjust, Yuma's pace had increased.

While fast fucking Nicholas, Yuma stretched an arm down and grabbed onto his hair. He yanked his head back, causing Nicholas to wince.

"Yuma." Nicholas breathed.

Yuma didn't hear him as he was high on the sound of his hips slapping into Nicholas' ass.

Quickening his pace, Yuma pulled Nicholas up slightly, and put both hands around his throat.

Nicholas was now on all fours being, fast fucked from behind.

He couldn't believe he was allowing himself to be topped, however, it didn't feel so bad.

"Yuma." He breathed again, this time louder.

"Shhhhh." Yuma panted.

He didn't want Nicholas to distract him in his moment.

Yuma eventually let go of Nicholas' throat, causing the both of them to fall down.

As Nicholas fell flat on his chest, Yuma immediately slid a hand down past Nicholas' stomach, and grabbed onto his cock.

He began stroking Nicholas' dick , causing Nicholas to break his silence and moan.

With his other hand, Yuma grabbed Nicholas' face and turned it towards him.

He licked Nicholas' face and sucked on his lips.

With every thrust, Yuma could feel himself reaching his climax.

"Can I cum in you?" Yuma whined on Nicholas' lips.

Nicholas kissed him fiercely, tongues twisting on one another.

He pulled apart for a brief second.

"Just do what you want." He replied.

The two of them stared into eachother eyes and panted into eachothers mouths.

At that moment, Nicholas could feel Yuma tense up inside him as he came.

After Yuma came, he flipped Nicholas over to lie on his back and kissed him passionately. He wrapped his arms around Nicholas' neck, and Nicholas held onto his waist.

When they parted lips, Yuma buttied just face in the crook of Nicholas' neck.

"That wasn't so bad was it?" Yuma smirked.

Nicholas panted. "It was alright."

Yuma laughed. "Well, I can't wait to do that again."

Nicholas looked at him with wide eyes. "Yeah that's never happening again."

Yuma pouted.

-

After a few seconds, Yuma looked down between their bodies at Nicholas' cock.

"Have you not cum yet?" Yuma asked.

Nicholas also looked down and noticed he was dry.

"I guess not."

Yuma sat up on the bed to glance at you and EJ. EJ had his head on your chest and you were hugging him.

"I have an idea." Yuma said. "Should we go join them?"

Nicholas glanced over at you and smirked.

"Let's go."

End of part 33 pt2.

PART THIRTY THREE - PART THREE: BOTTOM

6:20pm

"Shit....room for any more?"

You and EJ looked up and saw both Yuma and Nicholas standing above you, naked.

"What?" EJ asked.

"I said~ is there room for any more?" Yuma said.

Before either of you could reply, Nicholas jumped over both your bodies and layed down next to EJ.

Yuma laughed before made himself comfortable right next to you.

You searched for your phone which had fallen on the floor, and when you picked it up, you checked the time.

"Guys it's 6:22. We have to be back by 8 which meansss we should probably get going." You said.

Yuma took your phone out of your hand and threw it on the other bed.

"Don't you worry about that. Instead, worry about Nicholas." He said.

You and EJ turned to look at Nicholas and then turned back to Yuma.

"He looks completely fine." EJ said.

Yuma shook his head.

"He's not. He's the only one who hasn't cum yet so he needs your help. Specifically......y/n's help."

You looked back over at Nicholas and he was grinning at you.

"It's true."

"Why me?" You asked. "You're his boyfriend. Plus, he already came a few hours ago when we—"

Yuma cut you off by placing his index finger on your lips.

"Shhhhhhhh. You need to be the one to help him."

You bit his finger, causing him to snap his hand back.

You turned to EJ. "Well.....what do you think we should do?"

Moment of truth. Was EJ going to let you be with Nicholas, or was he going to object and go back to his old selfish ways?

As soon as you asked, Yuma rolled his eyes and sighed. He knew EJ would say no.

EJ sat up and pondered for a moment.

"I think." He started. "I think we should all help him."

"WHAT?"

"HUH?"

"WHO?"

All three of you were shocked as none of you expected that.

"I think we should all help him." EJ explained.

"It's the last day of the trip......and we're heading back home tomorrow. So why not have like a foursome while we're here.....?"

Both yours and Yuma's jaw was on the floor.

"I like the sound of that." Nicholas said.

"I LOVE the sound of that.'' Yuma added.

You were unsure though. Time was ticking and you were terrified of being late.

Just then, EJ took your hand.

"If you're worried because there's three of us, you can say so."

How sweet.

You shook your head.

"It's not that. I just don't want to miss our curfew."

Nicholas laughed at your cuteness and squished your cheeks.

"We're not gonna be late. Stop worrying." He said.

"Mmmmmm I don't know." You replied.

"How about this.." Yuma started. "How about I put a 20 minute timer on my phone so we don't lose track of time."

His idea wasn't bad. It was actually great.

The corners of your lips curved up into a smile which all three boys noticed.

"Okay." You said.

"Perfect."

Yuma clapped his hand together and reached for his phone.

"However, make it 15 minutes. Just to be sure." You quickly added.

Yuma did just that.

---

6:26pm

After the boys had moved the two beds together, it was like deja vu.

All four of you were on your knees on the bed.

Despite everyone facing eachother, you could feel all eyes on you.

EJ couldn't take his eyes off your breasts, Yuma was staring at your legs and Nicholas was locking eyes with you.

"Well this feels familiar." EJ joked in an attempt to break the silence.

Yuma smiled. "Back to where it all started huh."

The air in the room became lighter.

"I have something to say." You said nervously.

All boys listened attentively.

"As of right now, I've been the bottom with all of you...except EJ who I've done both with."

"I was wondering if.....I could be the top for you?" You asked while looking at Nicholas.

Yuma's eyes lit up.

"Absolutely." He said.

As you began smiling, Nicholas interrupted you.

"Absolutely not. I'm not a bottom."

Yuma hit his chest.

"Shut up before I tell her what we just did."

Nicholas hit him back.

Yuma pouted.

"Cmon just let her top you. We're wasting time, we only have like 12 minutes left now."

Nicholas groaned before he agreed.

"Fine. But only after I fuck you again."

With that, he layed down on his side, and patted the space on the bed infront of him, signalling for you to lay down there.

"Come."

As you made your way over, both Yuma and EJ stood up out of the way.

When you layed down to face Nicholas, you watched as he eyed your body from your neck down to your feet.

"You're gonna have to take this off." He said while playing with the hem of your pantie.

Before you could take it off, EJ climbed back onto the bed and began removing your panties with his teeth.

You only managed to watch him for a second, before Nicholas turned your face to his.

"Eyes on me y/n." He whispered before he crashed his lips onto yours.

You could feel EJ's hot breath move down your legs as he took off your underwear, as well as the slimy texture of Nicholas' tongue.

While kissing you, Nicholas began rapidly jerking off so he could quickly harden his cock, and begin fucking you.

Unbeknownst to you, Yuma was already bricked up, simply by the sight of both Nicholas and EJ all over you.

After EJ removed your underwear, he tossed it on the floor and layed down right behind you.

He held onto your waist as he placed soft kisses on the back of your neck.

Infront of you, Nicholas slowly lifted your leg up and began teasing your entrance with his cock.

He parted his lips from yours and looked down.

"I need you to keep it open for me okay?" He whispered.

You nodded as you held your leg up.

Within seconds, you felt his thick cock stretch your pussy and you gasped.

EJ looked over to see what caused your reaction, and his eyes fell on Nicholas' dick in your entrance.

Wasting no time, Nicholas clasped his hands together behind your back, ans began thrusting into you at a rapid pace.

Yuma and EJ were both shocked as Nicholas didn't even attempt to start of slow.

Understandable, you were on a time crunch after all.

Remembering this, EJ turned around and stared at Yuma, inviting him onto the bed.

Yuma came down on the bed a layed behind EJ.

EJ cleared his throat.

"While I fuck y/n......do you want to fuck me?"

Yuma was taken aback.

He never thought he would see the day where EJ asked to be fucked by him again.

However, Yuma could never turn down a request like this.

"Turn around." Yuma smirked.

EJ did just that and shifted his body closer to you.

He held onto your waist (above Nicholas' arms) with one hand, and with the other, he squeezed his dick up inside the back of your pussy.

You immediately covered your mouth due to the sudden penetration. You were so focused on Nicholas that you were oblivious to what was happening behind you.

"Ahhhhh." EJ moaned.

The tightness of your hole had him spiralling.

Right behind EJ, Yuma had shuffled his hand in a draw, hoping to find a condom. Luckily, he did.

He tore it open with his teeth and proceeded to wrap it around his cock.

Imitating EJ's hands on you, Yuma put a hand EJ's hip, and used his other hand to push his dick up inside EJ's ass.

As EJ's eyes shut tight, Yuma put his other hand on EJ's hair, and began pumping into him slowly.

It only took a few seconds before both Yuma and EJ were thrusting in sync.

All four of you were one joint, big, hot mess.

Nicholas was fucking your pussy from the front, EJ was fucking your pussy from the back, and Yuma was fucking EJ.

-

Over at your front, you were biting down on your knuckles, trying not to scream as gentle tears rolled down your cheeks.

Nicholas noticed.

"You're taking me so well." He whispered as he pounded into you.

"You're gonna make me cum okay."

Just as you were about to nod, EJ spoke.

"Only I can cum in her." He moaned. "She's mine."

You could feel Nicholas' pace slow down just a tiny bit.

"Is that true?" He asked you.

Barely in the right state of mind, you pondered for a minute.

Any other day, you would've objected and ignored what EJ had said. However, after the events of today, it was clear that EJ was your number one, so he should be allowed benefits that the rest can't have.

As a result, you nodded.

"Use your words y/n." Nicholas panted.

"Make it clear for us." Yuma added from the back, still pumping into EJ.

"Y....yes." you answered breathlessly.

"Yes what?" Nicholas asked.

You bit your bottom lip as you tried to find the energy to speak again.

"Yes.....only EJ......can cum in me."

"That's right." EJ whispered into your ear.

He licked your ear and sucked harshly on the skin below it.

You turned your head slightly to get a look at EJ, and you saw Yuma fiercely grabbing onto his hair.

As you watched EJ's facial expressions, you could tell that Yuma was fucking him.

You physically felt yourself grow hotter as you were actually watching Innocent EJ getting fucked.

Just then, Nicholas turned your head back around to face him.

"Squeeze me so I can cum okay?"

You shakily nodded.

"What did I say about using your words?" He asked you.

You hugged an arm around his neck and whispered. "Yes Nicholas."

He hugged you tighter and pounded into you a few more times, before he quickly pulled out and came all over your stomach.

Just then, the alarm on Yuma's phone rang.

And it kept on ringing as no one was stable enough to turn it off.

-

Eventually, as he was the only one that had cum, Nicholas got up and turned the alarm off.

He gazed upon the scene taking place on the bed and he smiled.

The three of you were still going at it.

Having you all to himself, EJ quickened his pace and brought both his hands up to cup your boobs from behind.

You turned your face to him, and he kissed you on the lips.

"Hurry up guys, the alarm has already gone off." Nicholas said.

You parted your lips from EJ's and stared at him.

"Please cum in me again." You asked EJ.

Almost immediately, you felt him tense up inside you.

"Fuck." He hissed.

He slowly pulled out of you, and his dick flopped between his legs.

-

Feeling absolutely weak, Nicholas came down onto the bed and helped you sit up.

"Let's go clean up okay?" He said as he took your hand.

You pulled back and stayed on the bed.

"What's wrong?" Nicholas asked you.

You crossed your arms over your chest and weakly spoke.

"You said you would let me top you. I'm not moving till you let me."

He sighed and rolled his eyes. "Okay well we don't have time anymore. Next time okay?"

He tried to grab your hand again, but you slapped it away.

He groaned and threw his head back.

"Fuck....okay fine. But you have to be quic—"

Before he could even finish, you pushed him to lie on his back and you sat on top of him.

-

Right next to you, Yuma was still inside EJ.

"Let's go finish this is the bathroom." Yuma whispered in his ear.

He pulled out of EJ and the two of them walked into the bathroom and closed the door.

---

After Yuma locked the door, he turned around and walked over to EJ who was leaning against a wall.

When Yuma approached him, he tried to place a kiss on his lips, but EJ swerved him.

"Only y/n can kiss me." He said.

Yuma laughed and looked down.

"That's okay. I can use your lips for other things."

"Kneel down."

Following his orders, EJ got down on his knees right infront of Yuma's hips.

EJ watched as Yuma removed the condom and tossed it in the bin.

Yuma then held onto EJ's jaw, and brought his mouth over to his dick. EJ opened his mouth and slowly began sucking on it.

---

In the bed, you were hungrily bouncing on Nicholas' dick while gripping tightly on his hair.

His hands were placed gently on your hips.

He pursed his lips together and shut his eyes tight.

You could only hear his muffled groans over the sounds of your skin slapping.

You brought a hand down to his face and squeezed his cheeks.

Now it was your turn to boss him around.

"Make some noise for me." You whined.

He opened his mouth to moan, however, he bit down on his tongue.

Just like you did with EJ, you put your hand in his mouth and he immediately let out a soft sound as he sucked on your fingers.

Finally.

"Just like that." You said.

As you slammed into him a few more times, you could feel a second climax coming. So could Nicholas.

"I'm cumming.......you......need to get up." He said with your fingers still in his mouth.

"Let me cum first." You demanded.

You put your hands on his lower stomach as you came all over his dick.

Before you could finish, Nicholas pulled his dick out of you and came on his stomach.

"Ughhhhh." He groaned.

As you collected your bearings, you flopped down on the bed and rested your hands on your stomach.

Nicholas wiped the cum off his chest with a blanket, and shifted closer to you. He wrapped and arm around your shoulder and turned to look at you.

"Happy now?" He asked.

You smiled. "Maybe."

He laughed and kissed your forehead. "Let's go."

As you sat up on the bed and began looking for your phone, you noticed something.

"Wait." You said. "Where's Yuma and EJ?"

---

In the bathroom, Yuma had just filled EJ's mouth with his load.

To help EJ, Yuma got down on his knees and and cupped both his hands at EJ's mouth.

When EJ opened his mouth, all the cum fell into Yuma's hands.

When his mouth was empty, Yuma leaned forward.

"I won't kiss you, I'll just clean you up okay?"

EJ said nothing and Yuma took that as a yes.

Yuma leaned forward and licked the remaining cum off of EJ's lips, and just to stretch his luck, he slipped his tongue into EJ's mouth and cleaned it too.

---

8:30pm

Luckily, you guys all made it back in time, before your curfew.

You were now all in your rooms, texting on the group chat.

Yuma: and the best bottom of the year award goes toooooooo......

Y/n: Nicholas 🥳🥳🥳

Y/n: Actually...

Y/n: I think EJ.

EJ: ME?

Y/n: Yesssssss you look so cute.

Yuma: Shit

Yuma: That's true.

Y/n: aren't you guys literally in the same room?

EJ: Yeah.

Y/n: You guys better not do anything without me

Y/n: and Nicholas too.

Yuma: I'll try.

Nicholas: whatever

Nicholas: what are we doing tomorrow?

Y/n: let's all hang out.

Y/n: let's do something fun.

EJ: Well, we leave as a class to go back home at 3pm

EJ: so we would have to wake up early if we want enough time.

Yuma: nerd 🤓

Nicholas: lol.

Y/n: stop

Y/n: leave him alone.

The four of you talked till 11pm, before you all fell asleep one by one.

End of part 33.

Author's note: This part was so longgggggg so that's why it took a while for me to finish it hehe. I added in some Sub Nicholas via a request so I hope you like itttttt. Omg so much just happened. I think we have 1 or two chapters left 🥹.

You had no idea how your professor even knew you. You were always in the second row seat in the corner, tucked away, fixed on your laptop. You procrastinated, studied, got the grades and went the fuck home, never speaking even once in class. Not when you dropped your pencil about 5000 metres away from you (right in front of your seat-partner) and they didn't notice so you chose to stay quiet for the rest of the class and went home and googled all the notes. Desperate times, desperate measures.

And then came your professor calling you to her office, telling you how perfect you’d be to tutor her weakest students for the upcoming final exam! Yipee!

Euijoo and Jaeyun. How could one even begin to describe Euijoo and Jaeyun?

They were such paradoxes, two bodies of complete irony, the sun and moon in one. They were part of the biggest and most famous frat on campus, &-En—the one known for epic parties, charity fundraisers that broke records and a roster of members who looked like they’d stepped out of a casting call for ‘University: The Musical’.

Both of them were campus royalty, the faces on every frat party flyer, every sports event poster, every stupid candid photograph people uploaded with captions about ‘college memories <3’. In summary, they were impossible to miss.

And ridiculously beautiful too.

Jaeyun with his soft black hair that always somehow fell perfectly over his forehead no matter how recklessly he moved, pretty in a quiet way that snuck up on you unexpectedly. He smiled at everyone, held doors open, remembered names; people talked about how he once carried an intoxicated freshman girl all the way back to her dorm because none of her friends could manage it properly.

Euijoo, his dyed hair a vibrant slash of autumn against the grey campus concrete, sitting on benches, gently coaxing skittish campus cats to eat from his hand. He had the kind of face people wrote songs about after making prolonged eye contact once. You’d once seen him climb a damn tree to grab an apple for some giggly group of girls who ran their manicured claws along his chest.

But despite the frat parties and loud crowds and expensive jackets and stupidly attractive friends, neither of them had ever seemed cruel. Frat-boyish? Absolutely. They roughhoused with their friends on campus lawns, walked around in sweats and sleeveless shirts like they were born for magazine covers, and showed up to lectures smelling faintly of expensive cologne and sleep deprivation.

But they were gentle, kind. You noticed things. The way Jaeyun always bowed politely to professors, the way Euijoo slowed his pace whenever someone walked beside him, the way they listened when people spoke.

Soft boys hidden beneath loud lives.

So when Professor Choi had asked you to stay behind after class, you genuinely thought you were being accused of plagiarism or tax fraud or something equally horrifying. Instead, she folded her hands together over her desk and smiled.

“I have two students who desperately need help before finals,” she said. “And I think you’d be perfect for tutoring them.” You had opened your mouth to reject the offer immediately—because absolutely not—before she continued.

“Euijoo and Jaeyun.”

“…What?”

Professor Choi laughed softly at your expression. “They’re struggling badly in biology.”

“That can’t be true,” you blurted before you could stop yourself. You had never, not once, spoken a word to either of them. Which was exactly why this whole situation was so bad. Because now you had to speak to them. Repeatedly.

“For two months?” you repeated weakly.

“Just until finals.” Professor Choi nodded sympathetically. “They’re both nice boys, it would be a pity if they failed.”

Yeah it would be a pity if you just jumped off a building right now.

You stared at her. She smiled brighter, like this was a gift. “They specifically asked for someone academically reliable, someone focused.” Which was apparently professor-code for antisocial. You sighed into your hands while she slid a paper toward you containing their schedules. “Please try your best with them,” she said gently. “They’re good boys.”

Good boys.

Right.

That was how you ended up back in your tiny one-person dorm later that night, sitting cross-legged in front of your mirror with your skincare half-done and biology notes scattered across your bed. The dorm was only yours because of your grades—a tiny mercy granted by scholarship credits and endless academic validation. It was small but quiet, and right then, it felt painfully too quiet. It was the kind of silence that amplified the impending doom.

You stared at your reflection. Tomorrow. Tomorrow you were going to sit across from Euijoo and Jaeyun for two entire hours pretending you were capable of functioning like a normal human being. You imagined awkward silences, you imagined humiliating yourself instantly, you imagined them leaning over your shoulder to ask a question and your brain physically short-circuiting.

Maybe they’d hate tutoring, maybe they wouldn’t show up, maybe they’d stare at you waiting for conversation while you slowly dissolved into the floor. Your stomach twisted as the harrowing reality closed in around you—tomorrow you were going to translate the Krebs cycle and mitochondrial DNA to Jaeyun, with his pretty, sharp eyes, and Euijoo, with his pretty, flame-kissed hair. Tomorrow, your beautifully silent, anonymous world was going to crack wide open. You dropped backward onto your mattress with a groan, one arm covering your face.

There were going to be the longest months of your life.

_____________

“Tutoring.” 

“For the fifteenth fucking time—” Euijoo sighed, massaging his temple, “—yes. Tutoring. Biology. Final exam. Two months. Do you need me to draw a diagram?”

Nicholas stared at him like he’d just told him he was someone from an alien planet who’d travelled to earth to study humans. Beside him, Sunghoon chomped away at his jar of cheese balls.

“Why are you so interested anyway?” Jaeyun asked, not looking away from his game on the tv, “You usually don’t give a shit about either of us.” “Yes I do.” Nicholas said in a defensive tone, “I give a shit about you two more than anyone else. Right Hoon?” “I can neither confirm nor deny.” 

Nicholas threw a cushion at his head. The frat house was unusually calm for once. Music still hummed faintly somewhere upstairs, and people moved through the halls every few minutes, but the main lounge had settled into the lazy atmosphere that only existed after midnight.

Jaeyun sat cross-legged on the carpet in grey sweats and a black hoodie, controller in hand. Euijoo occupied the far end of the couch, long legs spread comfortably,  hair messy from showering. Both of them looked unfairly good for someone discussing biology tutoring at one in the morning. Nicholas, meanwhile, looked personally victimized.

“I still don’t understand how this happened,” he muttered. “You two failing biology feels very incorrect. You’re the only ones here who actually study.”

“Ew studying.” Sunghoon said, his silver hair gleaming in the soft light.

“We’re not failing,” Jaeyun defended.

“You got a thirty-two.”

Jaeyun paused. “…Okay but the class average was bad too.”

“The average was seventy-one.”

Sunghoon snorted into his cheese balls. Before Jaeyun could throw something at him, the front door opened, letting in a burst of cool night air and two more of their brothers.

“Heard the death sentence was finalized,” Fuma said, hanging his jacket by the door.

“It’s not a death sentence,” Jaeyun muttered, his car on screen crashing into a wall. He tossed the controller aside in defeat.

Jungwon blinked. “Still talking about tutoring?”

“Unfortunately,” Euijoo muttered.

“Oh, you guys got lucky.” Fuma dropped onto the armchair with a grin. 

Jaeyun looked over. “How?”

Jungwon pointed lazily toward them. “I talked to Professor Choi earlier this week.”

Euijoo frowned, the reddish-orange of his hair seeming to burn a little brighter under his suspicion. “Why were you talking to Professor Choi?”

“She likes me.”

“You literally helped her carry boxes one time.”

“And now we’re connected spiritually,” Jungwon said seriously.

Sunghoon made a thoughtful noise. “That’s beautiful.”

“Anyway,” Jungwon continued, “I told her to get you idiots the best tutor possible before finals destroyed your GPAs.”

Nicholas gasped softly. “You care.”

“I care about the frat reputation,” Jungwon corrected instantly. “If two of our members fail biology, people will think we’re stupid.”

“We are stupid,” Sunghoon said.

“That’s not the point.”

Fuma leaned back comfortably. “I know who your tutor is, actually.”

Euijoo lifted his head slightly. “You do?”

“Top of the class,” Fuma said simply. “Like ridiculously top of the class.”

“Great.” Jaeyun groaned immediately. “So they’re gonna hate us.”

“Nah.” Fuma said. “She’s just quiet.”

Silence. Actual, physical silence. It was like the entire world had just collapsed, the way all of them stared at Fuma. 

“…She?” Nicholas repeated slowly.

“It’s a she?” Sunghoon sat upright so fast the jar of cheese balls nearly flew off his stomach.

Fuma blinked at them. “Yes?” The room exploded.

“No one said it was a girl!” Nicholas yelled.

“Why would we assume that?!” Jaeyun shouted back.

“Because tutors are always men named Daniel!” Sunghoon argued passionately.

Euijoo rubbed his face tiredly while Nicholas looked personally betrayed. “You let me picture some forty-year-old economics major this entire time.”

“She’s not even an economics major,” Fuma said.

“That’s not the issue.”

“Wait.” Jaeyun stared at Fuma suspiciously now. “You know her personally?”

“Not really,” Fuma admitted. “We’ve talked a few times.”

Nicholas gasped dramatically. “Oh my god. Fuma has female acquaintances.”

“Please grow up.”

“Wait. Is she at least normal?” Jaeyun asked, head tilted like a curious pup. 

Fuma stared at him. “You’re asking if someone’s normal while Nicholas is currently wearing sunglasses indoors.”

Nicholas pointed at him. “Fashion never sleeps.”

Sunghoon grabbed another handful of cheese balls. “Important question though.”

Euijoo already looked tired. “What.”

“Is she pretty?”

Jaeyun groaned loudly. “Why does that matter?”

“Because,” Nicholas said as though explaining basic mathematics to children, “if I’m being forced into academic rehabilitation, I at least deserve visual motivation.”

“You’re not even being tutored,” Euijoo said.

“I’m emotionally involved.”

Fuma shrugged. “I mean…yeah.”

Immediately, Nicholas sat upright. “Yeah?” he repeated eagerly.

Fuma looked amused now. “Pretty. In a scary smart way.”

Jaeyun sighed deeply and leaned back against the couch behind him. Sunghoon winced, “Oh you guys are finished.”

“Fantastic.” Euijoo groaned into his hands.

“Don’t act miserable,” Jungwon said. “You’re the ones who ignored every warning sign before exams.”

“We were busy,” Jaeyun argued weakly.

“With what?” Sunghoon asked. Jaeyun opened his mouth. Then closed it again.

Nicholas pointed at Euijoo accusingly. “You better not flirt your way out of this.”

Euijoo looked offended. “I don’t do that.” All four of them stared at him. Jaeyun burst out laughing first.

“Bro,” Sunghoon said through laughter, “you once got an extension because Professor Lee said you looked exhausted.”

“I was exhausted.”

“You smiled at her once and she extended the deadline for the whole class,” Nicholas corrected.

Fuma, meanwhile, looked entertained. “Honestly? I can’t picture her tolerating either of you.”

“Great,” Jaeyun muttered. “Love that for us.”

“She’s really quiet,” Fuma continued. “But nice.”

Nicholas narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Pretty and quiet.”

“Yes, Nicholas,” Jungwon sighed. “Women exist.”

“Do you think she’s mean pretty or cute pretty?” Sunghoon asked seriously.

“Can you freaks focus?” Jaeyun said.

“No, wait,” Nicholas interrupted. “This matters.”

“It absolutely does not.”

“It does,” Sunghoon insisted. “There’s a psychological difference.”

A moment later, both of their phones buzzed at the exact same time. Nicholas lunged forward instantly like a starving animal detecting food.

“Ohoho.”

Jaeyun narrowed his eyes. “Don’t.”

Too late, Nicholas had already snatched Jaeyun’s phone from beside him while Sunghoon practically folded himself over the couch trying to read Euijoo’s screen upside down. Nicholas read aloud in the most robotic voice imaginable:

“Hello. This is regarding tomorrow’s biology tutoring session.”

Sunghoon lost it immediately, nearly choking on a cheese ball. “Oh my god,” he wheezed. “That’s terrifyingly formal.”

Nicholas continued dramatically. “Would 4:30 PM at the science library be suitable for both of you? Please let me know if adjustments are needed. Thank you.”

The room dissolved into laughter. Jaeyun dragged a hand down his face. “Why does it sound like an email from the government?”

Euijoo, despite himself, smiled a little. “It’s polite.”

Nicholas clutched his chest. “‘Please let me know if adjustments are needed.’ Euijoo, she thinks you pay taxes.”

Sunghoon wiped tears from his eyes. “You’re gonna show up tomorrow and get assigned homework and a retirement plan.”

Jaeyun grabbed his phone back with an exhausted sigh. “She already hates us.” He decided.

“I don’t think she hates you,” Fuma said.

“She texts like she’s the dean.” Nicholas argued. The phone buzzed again suddenly and Nicholas immediately lunged for it like a feral animal. “Oh my god there’s more.”

Euijoo held the phone out of reach effortlessly. “Get away from me.”

Jaeyun checked his own screen first and snorted. A follow-up message.

“Also, please bring any previous test papers if possible so I can identify which topics need the most attention.”

The room went silent again. Then Nicholas whispered, horrified, “She’s so organized what the fuck.”

Sunghoon looked genuinely afraid now. “You guys are meeting a real academic weapon tomorrow.”

Jaeyun dropped backward onto the carpet dramatically. “I’m calling in sick.”

“You can’t call in sick to tutoring,” Jungwon said.

“Watch me.”

Fuma laughed quietly while Euijoo typed out a reply. “4:30 works. We’ll be there. Thanks.” Short and simple. But he reread it twice before sending anyway. Nicholas noticed immediately.

“Oh?” he said slowly. “Why are you typing so carefully?”

Sunghoon clutched Nicholas’s arm with faux shock. “He wants the tutor to think he’s literate.”

Jaeyun pointed accusingly at Fuma from the floor. “This is your fault for telling them she’s pretty.”

“I said she seemed nice!”

“Same thing,” Nicholas argued.

Euijoo ignored them completely, tossing his phone beside him before standing. “I’m sleeping.”

“Same.” Jaeyun agreed, running a hand through his hair. “We’re gonna pass biology. Which is why we,” he said, emphasizing the word as he looked pointedly at Nicholas and Sunghoon, “are going to bed at a reasonable hour so we can actually focus tomorrow.” This announcement was met with exaggerated gasps and mock applause. 

“The &-En pillars, turning in before midnight? For studying?” Nicholas clutched his heart. “The world is ending.”

Jungwon made a dramatic gagging noise “We’re witnessing history here.”

Sunghoon pointed at them solemnly with a cheese ball between his fingers. “Good luck, scholars.” 

“Can’t wait to hear all about your future A pluses tomorrow.” Nicholas crowed. 

Euijoo flipped him off lazily as he headed toward the stairs, but despite the chaos behind him, his mind lingered strangely on tomorrow. Jaeyun was on the same thing, the stiff, painfully formal text not leaving his mind. It was like someone was trying very hard not to say the wrong thing and something about it felt strangely endearing. 

Till tomorrow it was.

__________

You were about to combust. You were about to die.

It was 4:31. One minute late, yeah of course they hated you. Why wouldn't they? You were the one who sent that grandma ass text to them last night so now they obviously thought you were some stuck up nerd who ate data reports for breakfast.

‘Would 4:30 PM at the science library study hall be suitable for both of you?’ Suitable for both of you—you sounded like someone’s divorced aunt scheduling a dentist appointment. Cool, this was so cool.

You sat tucked into the far corner of the science library, half-hidden behind a stack of biology textbooks you’d arranged in front of you like defensive barricades.You’d arrived twenty minutes early out of sheer panic and now you were spiraling. Your outfit situation certainly wasn’t exactly helping either.

Every decent shirt you owned had apparently decided to unionize overnight and sit in the washing machine damp and unusable, leaving you with exactly one option: a white button-up that dipped lower at the collar than you normally liked. One wrong move and you’d be in jail for flashing everybody. Which meant you’d spent the entire walk to the library awkwardly tugging at it every thirty seconds like a Victorian woman protecting her honour. 

Your thumb mindlessly scrolled through videos as you waited, desperate distraction after desperate distraction until you landed on some stupid clip of a raccoon stealing cat food while dramatic orchestra music played in the background. The raccoon knocked over the bowl and you snorted before you could stop yourself.

And immediately after, the universe decided it hated you as a laugh sounded behind you—warm and surprised and very close.

“Oh my god,” a voice said through barely contained laughter. “Is that a raccoon edit?”

Your soul left your body and you nearly launched your phone across the library. You whipped around so fast you nearly elbowed your water bottle off the table.

And there they were.

Tall—that was your first coherent thought—just offensively tall.

Jaeyun stood slightly behind Euijoo, black hair falling messily over his forehead, soft eyes crinkled from laughing. Even in something so simple—a navy hoodie with the sleeves pushed up and loose grey sweatpants—he looked so majestic, a sort of Adonis. 

And Euijoo—jesus fucking christ. The hair was somehow even worse in person, softer-looking under the library lights, messy in a way that looked accidental and intentional all at once. He wore a black zip-up over a white shirt, rings glinting faintly as he adjusted the strap of his bag. 

You were going to die here.

“I—” you stammered instantly, locking your phone screen so fast it nearly slipped from your hand. “It just came up on my feed, I wasn’t—”

Jaeyun lost it. “No, no,” he said quickly, holding his hands up. “I’m not judging you. The music made it ten times funnier.”

“It just autoplayed,” you said quickly, fumbling to lock your phone so aggressively you almost dropped it. “I wasn’t searching for raccoon content specifically.” There was a pause and Euijoo’s mouth twitched slightly.

“Specifically?” he repeated quietly. Heat rushed into your face so violently you considered throwing yourself through the nearest library window. 

You closed your eyes for one brief moment. “Okay,” you thought to yourself. “This is horrible.”

“You text exactly how I imagined.” Jaeyun was visibly delighted now. “The ‘please let me know if adjustments are needed’ almost made me stand up straighter.” 

Euijoo nodded beside him. “Very professional.”

“I don’t talk like that normally,” you defended instantly.

Jaeyun raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”

“Yes,” you lied. Of course your antisocial dumbass always talked like that. 

Euijoo finally sat down across from you, movements easy and relaxed while you sat there like a frightened woodland creature. “I’m Euijoo,” he said gently.

You nodded too fast. “I know.” Silence, your eyes widened. “I mean—not like weird know,” you corrected immediately. “Not stalker-ish. Just like campus-knowledge know. Like everybody knows—not everybody, probably, statistically speaking that wouldn’t even make sense—”

Yeah the universe should have just killed you already.

Euijoo looked down for a second, hiding a smile. Jaeyun had physically bent forward laughing now. And somehow, impossibly, the panic in your chest loosened a little.

“I’m Jaeyun,” he offered kindly, like you weren’t actively self-destructing in front of them.

You nodded again. “I know that too.” Jaeyun stared at you. You stared back in horror. “Jesus Christ,” you mumbled, covering your face with one hand. “Can I restart this entire interaction?”

“No,” Jaeyun said immediately. “Absolutely not.” 

Euijoo leaned back slightly in his chair, watching you fumble with an expression that was far too entertained for someone who was supposed to be struggling biology students.

“This is the best first meeting I’ve ever had.” He added softly.

You peeked through your fingers suspiciously. “You’re making fun of me.”

“A little,” Jaeyun admitted.

“But affectionately,” Euijoo said.

Oh.

Oh ok where was your gun. 

You dropped your hand back onto the table and immediately knocked your pen onto the floor. The three of you watched it roll away in silence. You stared at it. Then stared ahead instead.

“I’m leaving it there,” you decided quietly.

Jaeyun laughed so hard he had to lean back in his chair. Euijoo shook his head, smiling properly now before leaning down to pick the pen up for you. Your heart nearly stopped from embarrassment when his fingers brushed yours lightly handing it back.

“Thank you,” you said far too formally.

“You’re welcome,” he replied with equal seriousness, “Now should we start before any more accidents happen?” “Yep.” Jaeyun replied enthusiastically, pulling out a genuinely massive folder from his bag, “You wanted all our tests right?” Universe, where was the damn gun.

The session itself started chaotically. Mostly because Jaeyun and Euijoo apparently shared one singular brain cell when placed together. At one point, Jaeyun confidently identified the mitochondria as “the thing that does vibes.” Euijoo had immediately buried his face in his hands while you stared at them in genuine disbelief.

“It’s the powerhouse of the cell,” you said weakly.

“Right,” Jaeyun nodded seriously. “That’s what I meant. Vibes.”

And somehow—somehow—it got easier after that. The tightness in your shoulders slowly disappeared the longer the session went on. The awkwardness never fully vanished—you still nearly choked on your water when Euijoo leaned closer to look at your notes once—but it became manageable. 

Jaeyun asked questions constantly, even if half of them sounded ridiculous at first. “So wait,” he’d said at one point, frowning at his worksheet, “if enzymes speed reactions up, why don’t they just keep going forever?” And instead of pretending to understand when he didn’t, he genuinely waited for your explanation, brows furrowed in concentration.

Euijoo was quieter. He absorbed things carefully, eyes flicking between your diagrams and textbook while he listened. Sometimes he’d go silent for a full minute before suddenly asking something terrifyingly specific that forced you to rethink how you explained the concept. You liked that a lot more than you expected.

And they were nice. God, they were annoyingly nice. Jaeyun apologized every single time he interrupted you, even accidentally. Euijoo kept sliding your highlighters back toward you whenever they rolled too far across the table because apparently your motor skills deteriorated under stress.

At one point, while you were explaining cellular respiration, you’d gotten too into it and started gesturing aggressively with your pen.

Jaeyun blinked at you. “You really like biology.”

You froze mid-sentence. “I mean,” you said awkwardly, “academically.”

Jaeyun laughed softly. “No, I mean it’s cool.”

Now why did your chest suddenly feel so tight? Probably because nobody usually called your interests cool.

Then, near the end of the session, something genuinely shocking happened. Jaeyun got a question right. Not partially right. Actually right. You’d stared at his paper for a full three seconds before looking up slowly.

“See?” Jaeyun immediately pointed at the answer triumphantly. “Academic weapon.”

Euijoo leaned over to look and blinked. “Wait, you actually got that?”

“Why do you sound surprised?”

“Because I know you.”

Jaeyun looked offended while you laughed before you could stop yourself. Both of them looked up immediately. And for one horrifying second, you realized that was probably the first time you’d laughed properly around them for the past three hours. 

Jaeyun grinned instantly like he’d won something.“You’re way less scary when you laugh.”

“I was scary?”

“You text like my mother.” Jaeyun reminded you.

Euijoo nodded solemnly beside him. “Very intimidating.”

.By the time the session ended, your notes were scattered everywhere, Jaeyun had somehow eaten two protein bars during a lesson on DNA replication, and Euijoo had finally understood something he’d been stuck on for weeks.

And weirdly—you’d had fun.

__________

Once you got back home, a realization hit you that made you genuinely sit down and think about life for a second.

That tutoring session had been….actually great?

You were back in the sanctuary of your dorm, the door locked firmly against the world. You’d dumped your bag, kicked off your shoes and were about to collapse into your usual post-social-interaction coma when it hit you, so foreign and unexpected that it made you genuinely stop and think about life for a second.

They hadn’t laughed at you meanly even once. Okay, they laughed at you constantly, but not cruelly—a particularly mind boggling difference. And they’d listened to you too, to your very quiet voice which was akin to the flap of a butterfly’s wing. Jaeyun had looked genuinely excited when he finally understood something. Euijoo had quietly thanked you after you re-explained transcription for the third time without sounding annoyed. Nobody had treated you like some awkward invisible thing sitting in the corner.

You sat down on the edge of your bed in complete silence, staring at your wall like you’d just uncovered a government conspiracy. Then you fell backward onto your mattress, staring at the ceiling. You’d expected arrogance, disinterest—frat boys who’d spend two hours scrolling through their phones while you suffered quietly beside them.

Instead they’d just been…..two guys who were genuinely disgusting at biology and genuinely grateful for the help. It was cool. It was, dare you think it, great. The feeling that settled in your chest was weird—a low, warm hum of something like accomplishment, mixed with a strange, lingering awareness of Jaeyun’s eager eyes and the careful way Euijoo had handed you your pen.  It was nice, suspiciously so and now you felt strange; like maybe these months weren't going to destroy you after all.

Shaking your head slightly to dispel the peculiar buzz, you decided the best course of action was a hard reset. A return to your most reliable, private comfort.

The cursor hovered over the familiar title. You’d bookmarked this one last week, a slow-burn enemies-to-lovers fic in your favourite fantasy fandom, renowned in the comments for its particularly… thorough eighth chapter. 

The tags were a delicious wall of text, you immediately spotted your favourites: size kink, bondage, degradation, a mating press and a full fucking nelson? Oh weren’t you in for a treat tonight. You skimmed them, a ritual as comforting as the first sip of tea. Your eyes caught on something and a faint, unrelated echo of Jaeyun’s voice—“For real? Oh, hell yeah!”—flitted through your mind before you firmly pushed it away. This was your time, your space.

You clicked open. The prose was immersive, pulling you instantly into a torch-lit chamber where the two protagonists, after chapters of biting dialogue and fraught glances, finally faced the precipice of their desire. The author was a master of the slow reveal, of the aching detail—the hesitant brush of a calloused knuckle against a jawline, the hitched breath that was more telling than any confession.

You read curled up on your bed, the dim glow of your laptop the only light. As the characters’ verbal sparring dissolved into breathless, urgent whispers, your own breathing began to subtly sync with the rhythm on the screen. A familiar, low thrum of heat started in your belly, a pleasant counterpoint to the weird buzz still lingering from the afternoon.

One hand scrolled slowly, absorbing every beautifully crafted sentence. The other drifted down, slipping beneath the waistband of your sweatpants and underwear. Your touch was light at first, exploratory, mirroring the tentative explorations described in the text. 

The hero’s voice in your head, low and rough with praise—“You’re doing so well, just like that…”—coalesced with the memory of a different kind of approval, of two sets of eyes fixed on you with grateful focus.

You pushed the thought away, focusing on the fiction, on the safe, controlled fantasy. Your fingers moved with more purpose, circling in the slow, practised rhythm that you knew worked. Your back arched slightly off the mattress as a particularly vivid line of description—a bite against a collarbone, a whispered command—sent a sharp jolt through you.

The sensations built, a steady crescendo. The warm hum in your chest from earlier seemed to migrate, to fuse with the physical heat coiling tighter and tighter low in your body. The images from the story—tangled limbs, sweat-slicked skin, desperate pleas—flashed behind your closed eyelids. 

For a fleeting second, the fantasy blurred at the edges; the careful hands in the story weren’t entirely fictional, they were unexpectedly gentle, handing you a pen, and the voice murmuring praise was eager, relieved, saying you got one.

It was that confusing, illicit overlap—the real, strange warmth of the day colliding with the reliable, fabricated heat of the story—that finally tipped you over the edge. Your breath caught, a soft, stifled sound in the quiet room as the tension shattered into waves of release, leaving you trembling and spent against your pillows.

For a long moment, you just lay there in the aftermath, the blue light of the laptop screen casting everything in a cool, unreal glow. The peculiar buzz was gone, dissolved into a heavy, physical lassitude. The weird feeling of accomplishment was still there, but it was quieter now. 

You closed the browser tab with a soft click, the finality of the sound sealing the chapter on both the story and the day. The months stretched ahead, but the dread was now just shadows, and for now, the shadows felt manageable. You suddenly couldn't wait for the next session two days later.

Meanwhile on the other side of the campus—

“So…”

“So.”

“She’s hot.”

“Oh my god she’s so damn hot.” 

Jaeyun was lying on his back on his bed, one arm behind his head, staring at the constellation of glow-in-the-dark stars stuck haphazardly to his ceiling. Euijoo was perched on the edge of his own meticulously made bed, ostensibly examining a highlighter as if its chemical composition was the most fascinating thing in the world.

They were supposed to be reviewing the notes you’d helped them make. The pages were open on Jaeyun’s desk and Euijoo’s bed, covered in highlighted terms and doodles on the margins. Neither was looking at them.

Jaeyun turned his head on the pillow, his dark eyes finding Euijoo’s profile in the dim lamplight, whose shoulders slumped as if released from a wire. He dropped the highlighter.

“What the fuck are we even thinking about?” He breathed, his words fervent.

“How we find our tutor hot.” Jaeyun deadpanned. 

It was a floodgate opening. The careful focus, the respectful masks they’d worn for two hours in the library fell away completely, revealing the sheer, dizzying impact you’d had on them. Another silence followed, mostly because neither of them knew where to even begin. Because it wasn’t just one thing. It was everything all at once. Their minds (hive mentality perhaps) were fixated on the ravishing beauty of you. And the shirt.

Oh that damn shirt.

Cut so dangerously, both of them could see everything when you leaned forward, unaware of your own skin because you were so engrossed in biology. But neither of them was willing to admit how much heat had flushed between their legs at the sight of your cleavage. 

Jaeyun groaned into the mattress dramatically. “The glasses thing almost killed me.”

Euijoo looked over immediately. “Right?”

“Like why was she pushing them back up every thirty seconds?” Jaeyun sat up halfway, scandalized. “How am I supposed to focus on mitochondria during that?”

“The way she explains things,” Jaeyun continued, his gaze drifting back to the ceiling, seeing not stars but the intense, thoughtful furrow of your brow. “It’s like…..her voice just cuts through all the noise in my head about this stupid class. Kinda hot.”

“I know,” Euijoo agreed, running a hand through his hair, messing it. “And she has this…this tiny little frown she does.” He breathed, “I think I almost lost it.”

“And her hands,” Jaeyun said, almost to himself, “I’m going to be so weird about her hands.”

“Go ahead.” Euijoo laughed, then sighed, “Wow. We’re kind of the worst people to ever exist right now.”

“We are.” Jaeyun conceded, a grin tugging at his mouth. “Man what the hell would she think of us right now? She’s just so…” “Hot.” Euijoo finished for him, the word definitive. “Incredibly hot.”

“I was going to say innocent but yeah that too.” Jaeyun hummed.

Euijoo laughed under his breath. You did look so….soft. Warm eyes, nervous hands, pretty lips constantly pressing together after you spoke like you were mentally reviewing every sentence for errors. Euijoo leaned back in his chair smiling helplessly now while Jaeyun buried his face into a pillow.

“She looked so excited when we understood something,” Euijoo murmured.

“She looked at me like I’d solved world hunger when I got that answer right.”

“To be fair,” Euijoo said, “I was also shocked.” Jaeyun threw a pillow at him.

“But seriously,” Jaeyun continued, “she’s weirdly easy to be around.”

That was the strangest part. Usually people acted different around them. Too eager, too shy, too damn performative. But you were so fucking awkward that it circled back around to honesty. Every expression showed on your face immediately, every embarrassed thought practically announced itself out loud. And the funniest thing? You clearly had no idea how pretty you were.

Euijoo remembered the exact moment you laughed properly for the first time. How you’d immediately looked startled afterward, like the sound escaped accidentally. Jaeyun remembered the way you frowned at your notes while concentrating, lips moving silently as you reread things. Both of them remembered how softly you’d thanked Euijoo for picking your pen up.

Jaeyun turned his head toward Euijoo suddenly. “She definitely thinks we’re cooler than we are.”

“Oh, absolutely.”

Jaeyun sighed dramatically. “This is bad.”

Euijoo raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because now I actually wanna go to tutoring.” A beat passed.

Then Euijoo admitted quietly, “…Yeah.”

They lapsed into silence again, but this one was charged, buzzing with shared, stunned realization. Jaeyun sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “We can’t be weird about this,” he said, his tone serious but his eyes still bright. “We cannot fuck this up by being…you know. Us. Around girls.”

“What are you talking about? We’re amazing around girls.” 

Jaeyun stared at him. Then burst out laughing. “No, we’re not.”

“Yes we are!”

“Euijoo, you accidentally flirt with baristas.”

“Yeah and you once thanked a girl for handing you a receipt and she turned red.”

“That sounds like her issue.”

“Exactly this.” Euijoo pointed accusingly at him. “You can’t do this cool boy shit with her.”

“You can’t do it with her either then!” Jaeyun said.

Euijoo leaned back in his chair looking deeply unbothered. “I’m naturally charming.”

“You’re naturally annoying.” Jaeyun ran a hand through his hair before dramatically breathing out and putting on the face of someone who hadn’t devoured two tubs of (Jungwon’s) ice cream an hour ago. “Okay. New rule.”

Euijoo already looked tired. “Why are you like this?”

“We act normal.” “We do act normal.”

“No flirting.”

Euijoo barked out a laugh. “You say that like we planned to flirt with her.”

“You smiled at her like three times.” “That’s literally normal human activity, Jaeyun.”

“You picked her pen up.” “It rolled near me, you freak?”

Jaeyun pointed at him triumphantly. “Ahh, getting defensive are we?”

Euijoo threw another pillow. This one hit him directly in the face.

“Okay,” Jaeyun mumbled through laughter, shoving the pillow away. “Fine. Maybe we’re both screwed. But—” He shrugged his shoulders, “We’re gonna be normal, good students. We’re gonna sit down and learn and pass this godforsaken final.”

“And we don’t stare,” Euijoo added, as if making a pact.

“Right. No staring. At her hands, or her mouth, or the way her hair falls—”

“Jaeyun.”

“Sorry.” He flopped back onto the bed with a groan, draping an arm over his eyes, “You really think we’ll be able to survive the next one?”

Euijoo didn’t have an answer. He just looked at the neat, precise handwriting on the notes you’d helped them create—your handwriting—and felt a confusing, thrilling surge of anticipation that had absolutely nothing to do with cellular respiration and everything to do with the quiet, brilliant girl who had, in two short hours, rewritten their entire expectations for the months ahead. Euijoo then realised just how high their libidos were. 

Yeah, they were absolutely fucked.

_______________

You were not a virgin by any means.

You’d had sex approximately one time in your life, a virginal sacrifice with your first, shitty boyfriend. 

The memory of your first and only time was less a memory and more a clinical footnote, a checklist of sensations: pressure, a little pain, a lot of awkward shifting, the smell of his cheap cologne, and a profound, echoing sense of ‘is this it?’ It was over quickly, and the only thing that had trembled was your resolve to ever do it again.

You hadn’t cum, not even close. You hadn't known you were supposed to, not really. The messy, overwhelming crescendos described in books and movies felt like mythical geography, a place you’d heard of but never visited. 

Even by yourself, with your own fingers, the journey often petered out into a gentle, sighing plateau—a soft orgasm that was more a relief of tension than a transformation of it. Pleasant, but faint, like hearing a symphony from another room five kilometres away.

That distance, that gap between what you read and what you felt, was precisely why you’d plunged into the world of fanfiction. 

The stories were a map to a territory you couldn’t seem to reach on your own. The authors didn’t just describe sex; they charted the emotional and physical crevices of pleasure—the winding paths of anticipation and the seismic shifts of release. You read them to understand, to feel it vicariously, to try and translate the words on the screen into a language your body could finally speak.

You’d always been able to recognize when someone was objectively attractive—you had eyes after all. But that recognition was a detached, aesthetic appreciation—like admiring a painting or a well-designed car.

It had never, not once, translated into a visceral, physical want. The idea of actually fucking someone from your real life had seemed vaguely abstract, and entirely separate from the specific hunger you cultivated with your curated stories.

Until today.

Until the fifth tutoring session. Because as always, the universe hated your very existence.

Somewhere between the first session and the fifth, things had shifted so naturally that you hadn’t even noticed it happening at first.

The formality disappeared in pieces. First went the painfully stiff texting—your original messages had looked like official university announcements. By the second session, Jaeyun had replied to one of your carefully structured texts with: coming rn don’t perish without us. And somehow after that, the entire dynamic cracked open.

Then went the awkward silences. Not completely—you were still you, unfortunately—but enough that tutoring no longer felt like performing a social experiment under observation.

Now Euijoo and Jaeyun just…..talked to you, which you couldn't even believe was humanly possible. They talked to you casually and constantly. 

Jaeyun, especially, had apparently decided that your concentration existed solely to be destroyed.

“You know,” he’d said during the third session while leaning dramatically across the table, “if mitochondria are powerhouses, does that technically make me an energy source?” You didn’t even look up from your notes.

“No,” you replied flatly. “You make everyone around you more tired actually.”

Jaeyun gasped like you’d stabbed him directly in the chest while Euijoo laughed quietly beside him.

And the worst part? You liked it.

You liked it so damn much it made your chest physically hurt.

Euijoo started sitting closer without realizing it, shoulder occasionally brushing yours when both of you leaned over the same worksheet. Jaeyun started stealing your pens constantly because apparently he lost every writing utensil he touched within seven minutes.

Both of them had developed this annoying habit of looking at you whenever something funny happened, like your reaction was somehow part of the experience now.

And outside tutoring sessions—

God.

That was where things became genuinely surreal.

The first time Jaeyun called your name across campus, you genuinely turned around expecting there to be another person behind you. Instead, you found him jogging down the library steps toward you with Euijoo beside him.

“Yo.” Jaeyun said breathlessly, like this was a completely normal way to address your tutor, “did you finish the bio review sheet?” You nearly walked into a pillar and Euijoo noticed instantly.

“She does that a lot around us,” he murmured thoughtfully.

“I hate both of you,” you replied automatically. But your face burned the entire walk afterward.

Then came the coffee. The horrifying, relationship-coded coffee. By the fourth session they’d started showing up with drinks already in hand, not even asking anymore. Jaeyun remembered your order after hearing it once and Euijoo started quietly sliding pastries toward you whenever your studying went too long and you forgot to eat.

“You look dead,” he’d said simply one afternoon while placing an iced coffee beside your laptop.

“That’s because I’m studying.”

“We never noticed.” Jaeyun drawled sarcastically. 

You stared at both of them suspiciously over the rim of your coffee. “You’re weirdly caring.”

Jaeyun blinked. “Were we supposed to let you deteriorate?”

“Yes,” you answered immediately. “That’s what most people do.” The way both their expressions softened afterward made something uncomfortable twist warmly in your chest.

And somehow, impossibly, people had started noticing. Because apparently being repeatedly seen around two of the most well-known boys on campus transformed you from ‘that quiet girl from Biology 212’ into a subject of active campus curiosity. You started catching looks, whispers, double takes. The first time it happened, you nearly had a nervous breakdown.

You’d been sitting on the edge of the basketball court one afternoon trying desperately to finish a lab report while Jaeyun and Euijoo played with some of the others from the frat. 

You weren’t even supposed to be there. Jaeyun had somehow convinced you by saying: “Just sit there and work. Your academic aura might help us.”

Which was stupid and yet you came anyway, because you were a dumbass.  You sat cross-legged on the bleachers with your laptop while the sound of sneakers squeaking against the court echoed around you.

At first you genuinely managed to focus.

Then Jaeyun yelled:

“THIS SHOT’S FOR YOU, MY TUTOR.”

The entire court erupted immediately. You looked up in horror just in time to watch him completely miss.

Nicholas collapsed onto the floor laughing and Sunghoon screamed so loudly someone from the next court turned around.

Jaeyun pointed accusingly at the hoop. “She distracted me!”

Euijoo grabbed the ball next, grinning toward you lazily.

“This one’s for her then.”

“You are not helping—”

Swish.

The ball went clean through the net. The entire gym exploded. You physically covered your face with your hands while Jaeyun shouted betrayal at the top of his lungs.

After that, it only got worse. Now people knew you. Or at least knew of you.

You earned the following monikers:

“The bio tutor.”

“The girl Euijoo keeps looking for.”

“The one Jaeyun annoys constantly.”

It should’ve made you uncomfortable and maybe it did a little. But every time one of them spotted you across campus and their entire face brightened in recognition before they waved you over like it was the most natural thing in the world, you somehow forgot to care.

And then came the damned fifth session. 

You were in the zone, explaining the intricacies of protein synthesis, when Jaeyun had gotten a question spectacularly right, a complex one about tRNA anticodons.

“Holy shit, I did it!” he burst out, a grin splitting his face. He turned that brilliant, triumphant smile directly on you. “You’re a genius, honey. An absolute genius.”

Honey.

The pet name landed like a spark on dry tinder. It was casual, warm, dripping with unthinking affection and your pencil stilled on the page.

Not even thirty seconds later, Euijoo, who was quietly connecting another dot, looked up from his notebook, his hair falling into his eyes. “So if I follow this….it’s like an assembly line, and the ribosome is the foreman reading the blueprint?” At your nod, a look of profound satisfaction had settled on his face. “Huh….you make it make sense, doll.”

Doll.

Two pet names in under a minute. 

Honey. Doll.

Your calm shell developed a hairline fracture and a slow heat began to pool in your stomach. You finished that session on autopilot, your mind replaying the words in their voices.

And now, you were back in your dorm and the heat felt like a wire about to bust. You could feel the hunger at the bottom of your throat, screaming at you to satiate it. 

You didn’t even wait to change out of your clothes, your mind fixed on wanting those calloused hands that fumbled highlighters to be steady on your naked skin.

You wanted to know if Euijoo’s focused intensity in solving a problem would translate to the focused intensity of his gaze on your body. You wanted to hear Jaeyun’s saccharine sweet voice groan against your neck for a reason that had nothing to do with biology.

You opened your laptop, bypassing your usual bookmarks. You navigated to a story you’d saved but never dared to read: a lengthy, explicit fic. 

Un, deux, trois. 

Perfection.

You clicked on it, the threesome tag seemed to wink at you.

As the story unfolded—two devoted knights finally claiming their wary, brilliant queen—you didn’t see fictional characters in a fantasy castle. 

You saw a library study carrel pushed against a wall. You saw Jaeyun’s broad shoulders blocking out the lights, his eager mouth finding yours. You felt Euijoo’s careful hands, the ones that took such neat notes, mapping your ribs with a scholar’s attention to detail.

In the story, one lover whispered praises while the other drove the heroine to the edge. 

In your mind, it was Jaeyun’s voice, hot in your ear, “You’re so smart, honey, so perfect for us,” while Euijoo’s steady, relentless touch between your legs unraveled every coherent thought you’d ever had all while he was moaning, “Such a good doll for us, yeah?”

You chased the feeling, the image of the two of them—their contrasting hair, their gentle focus now turned devouring—so vivid behind your eyelids. The soft, sighing plateau you were used to wasn’t the destination tonight. 

You were climbing that staircase to heaven, the coil of heat tightening beyond its usual limits, spurred on by the illicit, perfect fantasy of them.

Your breath hitched, your back arching off the bed. The release, when it crashed over you, was not a faint echo from another room. It was a symphony played right in the heart of you, loud, shuddering, and utterly transformative. For the first time, your body understood the map perfectly. 

And it had two very specific, very real guides to thank for the journey.

Oh well.

Wasn't this so fucking great for you?

__________

They say ladies and gentlemen, that necessity is the mother of invention. In this situation, the necessity was your pussy yelling to be touched…….to the thought of both of them.

The aftershocks of that first, real orgasm left you feeling like a new person inhabiting an old skin. The world had shifted on its axis, and the new gravitational pull had two names: Jaeyun and Euijoo.

By the ninth tutoring session, your situation had officially evolved from “minor academic inconvenience” into “active psychological horny warfare.”

Because apparently both of them had decided pet names were part of your curriculum now.

Every “honey, can you explain that again?” from Jaeyun was a bolt of heat straight to your core. Every low, thoughtful “doll, I think I’ve got it now,” from Euijoo made your breath catch. 

“Honey, pass me the worksheet.”

“Doll, you skipped question four.”

“Sweetheart, if I fail this exam I’m blaming you personally.”

You were going to pass away. At first you’d genuinely thought they were doing it accidentally but then Jaeyun called you “pretty tutor” after getting an answer right and winked when you nearly inhaled your own spit. So no.

Definitely intentional. 

Which was exactly why your dignity had deteriorated enough for you to do something deeply embarrassing one night at two in the morning.

You copied the entire text of that life-altering fantasy threesome fic into a blank Google Doc. Then, with a feverish, shameless focus, you used ‘Find and Replace.’ The fictional knight with the eager heart became Jaeyun and the one with the careful hands became Euijoo. And of course you even rewrote some parts on your own with details that reminded you of them. Then you immediately hide the document inside three different folders.

It was a raw, unvarnished act of carnal need—nothing else was fucking satisfying you anymore. 

The document became your secret altar, a place where their imagined voices—“That’s it, honey, take it,” and “So perfect for us, doll, so good”—could play out in explicit detail against the stark white page. You returned to it often, each visit a temporary balm that only deepened the ache.

You’d told yourself it was harmless. But even you knew it wasn’t.

The present session was another exercise in sustained composure. You were all reviewing for the upcoming midterm, a thick cloud of shared academic stress mingling with your own, far more potent, personal tension.

You’d joked around in the beginning, a rare comedy moment from you, that you’d made report cards for the both of them before the exam, just for motivation. They’d tried to sneak a peek at your laptop and you immediately pulled it away.

But now, nature was calling, so you sighed and closed your textbook with a decisive thump that made them both look up

“I’m trusting you both alone for five minutes,” you warned, pushing yourself off your chair. You pointed at both of them threateningly. “And don’t touch my laptop.”

Euijoo raised both hands innocently. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

As you walked towards the library restrooms, the echo of your words felt hollow. Your laptop sat open on the table, your Google Drive a single careless click away.

The second you disappeared around the corner, Jaeyun leaned back in his chair dramatically. “She still doesn’t trust us.”

“To be fair,” Euijoo said calmly, “you do act like a raccoon with Wi-Fi.”

“I trusted you.” Jaeyun gasped.

But despite the joking, neither of them actually touched your things at first. Jaeyun flipped through his own notes while Euijoo absentmindedly reread one of your annotated diagrams. Then Jaeyun noticed the document tab still open behind your biology slides. His eyes narrowed.

“…What’s that?”

Euijoo glanced over lazily. “Probably notes.”

“Maybe it's the report cards.” Jaeyun snorted. 

“Report cards.” Euijoo snorted, shaking his head. 

But his eyes drifted to your laptop. Jaeyun followed his gaze. The unspoken thought passed between them, a current of shared, guilty curiosity. 

“Just… a quick look?” Jaeyun whispered, his finger already hovering over the touchpad. “To see if she actually made us report cards?”

Euijoo didn’t say no. He just leaned in, his heart hammering a strange rhythm against his ribs and Jaeyun clicked before common sense could stop him.

And both of them froze instantly.

Complete silence.

Jaeyun blinked once. Then twice. Euijoo leaned forward slowly, eyes widening the further he read.

The document that filled the screen had no title. But the first line stole the air from the room.

‘Jaeyun’s mouth was hot and demanding on yours, while Euijoo’s clever fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your—’

A jolt, white-hot and seismic, went through both of them. Jaeyun’s hand jerked back from the laptop as if burnt and Euijoo’s breath left him in a silent rush.

For a second, there was only the hum of the library and the deafening roar of blood in their ears. Horror—at being caught—flared for a single, blinding moment. But it was instantly, overwhelmingly, drowned out by a surge of pure, undiluted relief so powerful it was dizzying.

You thought about this. About them. Like this.

They scanned the text, their eyes flying over phrases, seeing their own names woven into acts of breathtaking intimacy—praise, possession, shared focus. It was their fantasy, the one they’d only whispered about in their room, written out in your unmistakable prose.

“Oh my god,” Jaeyun breathed, his voice ragged.

Euijoo couldn’t speak. He was re-reading a line where he was described as ‘methodical, worshipful, leaving no inch of skin uncharted.’ His face was on fire.

“No way,” he whispered, dragging a hand over his face slowly, stunned disbelief melting into something dangerously close to delight. “You’re kidding.”

Jaeyun let out a quiet laugh of pure disbelief and leaned back in his chair. “Oh my god.”

The sound of footsteps approaching made both of them sit up immediately. Jaeyun clicked back to the biology slides at lightning speed while Euijoo tried very hard to look normal—which failed instantly because both of them looked visibly brighter when you sat back down.

You paused immediately. “…Why do you both look guilty?”

“Crazy accusation.” Jaeyun said quickly. Euijoo picked up a pen before he laughed accidentally.

Your eyes narrowed. “Oh my god. What did you do?”

“Nothing,” both of them answered far too fast. You stared harder.

Jaeyun cracked first. “There’s a party tonight.”

“What.”

“At the frat house,” he continued casually. “You should come.”

You blinked.

“No.”

“Why not?” Euijoo asked, quieter.

“Because I enjoy surviving social situations.”

Jaeyun leaned across the table dramatically. “We’ll stay with you the whole time.”

“That is not reassuring.”

“It should be.”

You looked between both of them suspiciously. Something definitely felt off. But there was also something strangely warm about the way they looked at you now.

Every shred of self-preservation you’d ever cultivated screamed at you to say no. Frat party? With them? It was a spectacularly bad idea, a one-way ticket to a social and emotional disaster.

Then Jaeyun hit you with the look. 

His dark eyes went wide and pleading, his bottom lip jutting out just a fraction. It was a full-force, hopeful puppy-dog stare, completely at odds with the sinful things he’d just read about himself.

Beside him, Euijoo didn’t say a word. He just watched you, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips, as if he could see the exact moment your resolve would crumble.

It crumbled instantly.

“…For like one hour,” you muttered. 

Jaeyun actually cheered, a soft, triumphant “Yes!” that he immediately tried to smother, looking around the library with a guilty grin. Euijoo ducked his head, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter, strands of his hair falling forward to hide his face.

“Why am I getting the feeling my life’s about to get really complicated?” You chuckled weakly. 

They both laughed then, a shared, relieved sound that eased the last of the tension. It was a laugh that said, ‘Yeah, it is, and we’re in it together.’

“I should… probably head out early,” you said, gesturing vaguely towards seemingly nothing. “To, uh, get ready, for my one-hour sentence.”

Euijoo watched you for a second before asking quietly, “What are you gonna wear?”

“Oh my god, good question.” Jaeyun immediately looked delighted.

You stared at both of them in betrayal. “Why are you acting like this is the Met Gala?”

“Because this is important,” Jaeyun replied seriously.

“It’s literally a frat party”

“So you’re saying you don’t respect our respectable establishment.” Jaeyun pouted up at you. Stupid pretty pink lips.

“I hate when you say things with confidence because it makes me nervous.” You groaned.

Jaeyun laughed while Euijoo leaned back in his chair, still looking strangely pleased just from the fact you’d agreed at all. You slung your bag over your shoulder and stood.

“Okay. One hour,” you warned again. “And if either of you abandon me there, I’m transferring universities.”

“We’ll text you the address.” Jaeyun said, his voice still bright with victory.

“Don’t be late.” Euijoo added, the quiet command in his tone sending a fresh shiver down your spine.

You disappeared around the corner before either of them could answer. The second you were fully out of sight, silence dropped over the table again.

Jaeyun slowly leaned back in his chair and Euijoo exhaled through his nose, dragging both hands over his face briefly. Jaeyun looked over immediately.

“So.”

Euijoo already knew where this was going. “Don’t.”

“She likes us.”

Euijoo stared at the ceiling like he was seeking divine patience.

Jaeyun grinned helplessly. “No, because actually think about this. She wrote about us.”

“Jaeyun.”

“She thought about us enough to write things down.”

“I’m aware,” Euijoo muttered, ears burning all over again. Because unfortunately, he was very aware. Jaeyun drummed his fingers against the table thoughtfully before glancing sideways at him.

“You know why I invited her, right?” He said, biting his lip, an annoyingly attractive habit he had.

Euijoo lowered his hands slowly. “Because you have no survival instincts?”

“That too.”

Jaeyun’s grin turned slightly nervous underneath the humor now.

“But also because…” He hesitated once. “Maybe tonight gives us a chance to actually talk about it.” Euijoo went quiet.

Talk about it.

Oh.

Euijoo would have been lying if he said he wasn’t going to combust if he didn’t do all the things he’d read in the document to you in real life. 

Jaeyun sighed dramatically, though his smile lingered. “If we don’t talk about it,” he muttered, “I’m gonna keep thinking about it until I fail biology again.”

Euijoo laughed quietly at that, though his own heart was beginning to race. Then after a second, he quietly admitted, 

“…Yeah. Me too.”

___________

Your dorm looked like a small-scale crime scene.

Clothes covered half the floor. Makeup products sat scattered across your desk like evidence. Three separate outfits had already been rejected and thrown violently onto your bed over the course of forty-five minutes. You stared at yourself in the mirror with narrowed eyes.

This was stupid.

You were acting stupid.

It was just a party.

Not even a date, definitely not a date. Just one hour at a frat house with two boys you unfortunately found devastatingly attractive.

Cool.

So normal.

Your gaze drifted back toward the black dress hanging from your closet door which you had been trying hard to ignore. You’d bought it months ago during one of those dangerous online shopping spirals that happened at two in the morning when your brain convinced you that yes, actually, you were the type of person who attended rooftop parties and drank sparkling cocktails while looking mysterious.

Reality had proven otherwise and so the dress remained untouched ever since. Until now.

You grabbed it cautiously. It was short, scandalously short, short enough that your legs were on full display and your ass was perfectly framed and your chest was accentuated. The fabric hugged you more than your usual clothes did, soft black material dipping slightly at the neckline while the hem stopped mid-thigh. You stared at your reflection in silence. You looked pretty. Which was honestly a little alarming. Why the fuck were you putting in this much effort for some dumb party you wouldn’t have even heard of two months ago?

A knock sounded at your door before you could spiral further.

“You alive in there?” your friend Yujin called.

“Debatable.”

Yujin pushed the door open anyway and immediately froze. Then her jaw dropped. “Oh, you bitch.”

You blinked. “What?”

“You’ve been hiding all that under cardigans?” she demanded dramatically, stepping fully inside. “That is criminal behavior.”

Heat rushed into your face instantly. “It’s too much, isn’t it?”

“Too much?” Yujin repeated like she was personally offended. “You look hot!”

You glanced at yourself again uncertainly. The dress really did look good, which unfortunately made you even more nervous. Because they were going to see you in it. Your stomach flipped violently.

You groaned into your hands. “Why did I agree to this?”

“Because they’re hot and nice to you.” Yujin replied instantly, fixing one of your earrings for you.

Yujin had been one of your only real friends since first year—mostly because she’d adopted you against your will after catching you eating dry cereal alone outside a lecture hall once. And she knew you all too well.

You grabbed your small bag while trying very hard not to think about how Jaeyun would probably whistle obnoxiously the second he saw you. Or how Euijoo would look at you quietly for one dangerous second too long.

Your heart was already beating too fast. This was a disaster.

The frat house was visible from halfway down the street. Music pulsed through the night air loud enough that you could feel the bass before you even reached the front lawn. Groups of students crowded outside laughing loudly beneath strings of warm lights wrapped around the porch railings.

You stopped walking. Yujin kept going for three steps before realizing.

“Oh no,” she sighed, turning back toward you. “Don’t do this.”

“I can still leave.”

“You absolutely cannot.”

“I suddenly remembered I love staying home.”

Yujin grabbed your wrist before you could retreat. “You survived tutoring sessions with two campus heartthrobs,” she informed you firmly. “You can survive one frat party.”

People moved around you constantly as you approached the house, music and laughter spilling from open windows while colored lights flashed faintly inside.

Your nerves worsened with every step. Then the front door opened and you were about to evaporate into thin air. 

But instead of Jaeyun or Euijoo, Fuma appeared in the doorway first. He blinked once when he saw you. Then slowly grinned. 

“Well damn.”

You immediately wanted to disappear. “Please don’t start.”

“I didn’t even say anything.”

“You implied it with your face.” He chuckled, “Never thought you’d actually come.”

Yujin snorted beside you while Fuma stepped aside to let both of you in, music immediately swallowing the conversation the second you crossed the threshold.

The frat house was warm and loud and overwhelming in the exact way you’d feared. Lights flashed dimly across crowded rooms while people moved everywhere at once, laughter rising over music, conversations overlapping into noise. Someone nearly ran into you carrying chips before apologizing and disappearing upstairs again. You instinctively moved closer to Yujin. Fuma noticed immediately.

“You’ll survive,” He laughed quietly before guiding you through the hallway. People looked over as you passed and somehow that made you even more aware of the tight fabric clinging to your skin.

“Where are they?” you asked, trying to sound casual and failing spectacularly.

Fuma’s grin widened knowingly. “In the kitchen.”

You barely had two seconds to mentally prepare before Fuma led you around the corner and there they were.

Oh, this was just fucking unfair.

Fuck you universe. 

Jaeyun sat on the kitchen counter laughing at something Nicholas was saying, sleeves rolled up over his forearms, dark hair messy like someone had run their hands through it repeatedly. A silver chain rested against the collar of his black shirt and—

Right.

You need to be breathing.

Very important for life.

Beside him, Euijoo leaned against the counter with a drink in one hand, hair pushed back slightly from his forehead. He wore a dark grey shirt that fit annoyingly well beneath an open black jacket.

What you would have given to be fucked stupid on that stupid counter with their stupid fingers. 

Stupid stupid hot boys.

Both of them looked up at the exact same time. The conversation around the kitchen kept going normally, but the second their eyes landed on you, something shifted.

Jaeyun straightened slowly. Euijoo’s gaze moved over you once before returning to your face. A chill ran down your spine instantly. You suddenly became hyperaware of every inch of exposed skin.

Jaeyun recovered first. “Holy shit, am I in heaven?”

“You look beautiful.” Euijoo said quietly over the noise before Jaeyun could speak again.

Your heart betrayed you so violently you almost considered going to church and confessing your sins. But then again you probably would have imagined them fucking you in that tiny little booth so you steered away from the idea. 

Nicholas whipped around so fast he nearly dropped his drink. “Oh my god,” he gasped dramatically. “Academic weapon spotted.”

Sunghoon looked up from where he’d been stealing fries directly off Jungwon’s plate and actually paused mid-bite. “Wait,” he said slowly. “Fuma undersold this situation severely.” You opened your mouth to respond and nothing came out.

Jaeyun’s grin widened immediately. “There she goes.”

“I’m—” you started, then stopped. Because unfortunately your brain had ceased functioning the second both of them looked at you like that.

“Thank you.” You managed finally, voice weirdly high. “I almost didn’t wear this.”

Jaeyun blinked. “Why?”

You gestured vaguely at yourself like that explained everything. “This is…a lot of skin.” You immediately looked down at the floor. “This is why I wear cardigans,” you muttered.

Jaeyun laughed softly. “No, seriously,” he said, still looking at you with that same dangerously warm expression, “you look really pretty.”

You physically short-circuited.

“Okay,” you said quickly, pointing at him. “You can’t just say things like that immediately after I arrive.”

“Why not?”

“Because—” You said as if it was the most obvious fact in the world, “I need adjustment time.”

Nicholas burst out laughing. “Adjustment time?” he repeated.

“Yeah.” You defended instantly, “Not everyone’s a social butterfly like you guys.”

Sunghoon nodded thoughtfully. “Honestly valid.”

Euijoo smiled beside you now, placing a protective hand on the small of your back, “I think we’re gonna get a drink before she faints.”

“Excuse me—”

“Great idea!” Jaeyun hopped off the counter, “I’ll come with.”

Getting a drink was number infinity on the list of tasks that required three persons. But hey, who were you to complain? Some sort of pure angel who didn’t thirst over the two boys she tutored? 

"Come on." Jaeyun chirped, already weaving through the crowd. "The good stuff's out back, quieter there."

Quieter was an understatement. 

He led you through a chaotic kitchen, out a creaking screen door, and into a small, enclosed back porch. It was shrouded in shadows, lit only by a single, buzzing yellow bug light. A large, dented cooler sat against one wall, filled with ice and bottles. The roar of the party was muffled here, reduced to a dull thump. It felt secluded, dare you say intimate.

“See? Much better." Jaeyun said, rummaging in the cooler. "What's your poison, honey?"

You asked for something simple, so that you could hold onto it like a lifeline. As he fished out a hard seltzer and cracked it open, Euijoo leaned against the doorframe, blocking the most obvious exit back to the house. 

Handsome motherfucker.

"So," Jaeyun began, handing you the cold can. His tone was light and conversational. "The tutoring's really helping. I think we might not totally bomb the midterm."

"It's all you guys," you said, taking a small sip. "You're doing the work."

"We have a good teacher," Euijoo said from his post. His voice was quiet, but it carried perfectly in the hushed space. "Very…..thorough."

There was a beat of silence, filled only by the distant bass. The air, which had been cool, suddenly felt thick and warm like being covered in sticky honey.

Jaeyun took a swig from his own beer. "Thorough is a good word for it." He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes finding yours in the dim light. "Like that document you were working on. That was incredibly thorough.”

The can in your hand felt like a block of ice. 

The document.

Oh.

Euijoo pushed off the doorframe. He didn't move aggressively, but with a slow, deliberate intent that made your breath catch. He walked towards you, his steps quiet on the wooden planks, until he was standing right in front of you. 

Then he lifted an arm, placing his hand flat on the wall just beside your head, leaning in slightly. He wasn't touching you, but he’d effectively caged you in, his body blocking one side, the rough wall of the house at your back.

Jaeyun didn't move from his spot by the cooler, but his watchful gaze was just as potent. He took another slow drink, his eyes never leaving your face.

"No more running, doll," Euijoo said, his voice a low, intimate rumble. The stupid, stupid pet name, here and now, was a weapon, said in that deep and husky voice of his. "We saw our names on it.”

"All of it." Jaeyun added softly.

"So we need you to be truthful with us, doll." Euijoo continued, his free hand coming up to gently tilt your chin up, forcing you to meet his eyes. "Was that just a fantasy? Or do you want it to be reality?”

You could lie. You could try to laugh it off. But under the weight of their combined focus—Euijoo's searching gaze and Jaeyun's patient silence—all your defenses shattered. The truth was a living thing in your chest, pounding to get out.

You swallowed, your voice barely a whisper. "I do.” “What was that, doll?” Euijoo said, tightening his grip on your chin, “Speak up, pretty girl.”

“I—” You said, drawing in a shuddering breath, “I want it to be real.” 

The words seemed to change the very atmosphere. Euijoo's eyes flared, a hot, satisfied gleam in the dim light. Jaeyun let out a slow, controlled breath, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Aww, honey. You like us that much?" Jaeyun pressed, needing the final confirmation. You nodded, unable to form more words.

For a long moment, no one moved. Your confession hung in the air like a paper lantern, transforming into a new reality that they were enjoying far too much. 

Then, Euijoo’s thumb brushed once, softly, against your jawline before he dropped his hand. He straightened up, removing his arm from the wall, breaking the cage. The sudden lack of his proximity felt like a winter chill.

Jaeyun stepped forward then. He didn't touch you, he simply took your limp hand and wrapped your fingers more securely around the cold can of seltzer you'd almost forgotten you were holding.

"Good," Jaeyun said, his voice strangely gentle. "That's all we wanted to know."

Euijoo gave you one last, unreadable look—a mix of that blazing heat and something softer, almost approving. "Enjoy the party, pretty girl.” 

And then, just like that, they turned and walked back through the screen door into the roar of the house, leaving you alone on the quiet, shadowed porch, clutching your drink with trembling hands, your entire world having just been thrillingly upended.

What the actual fuck had just happened?

And why the fuck were your panties so drenched? ________________

Whilst agreeing to come to the party, you had forgotten one very important detail.

You were the world’s most antisocial person who detested crowds with every fibre of her being. 

Pushing back into the house had been like diving into a wall of sound and heat. The earlier introductions felt like a distant dream. Now, every shouted conversation, every burst of laughter, every accidental brush against you in the crowded hallway felt like a violation, the bass from the speakers an assault on your sternum.

Anxiety, a cold, slithering thing, began to coil in your stomach, tightening around the lingering heat. You scanned the pulsing mass of bodies for a familiar face—specifically, Yujin. You finally spotted her near the kitchen island, but any hope of rescue died instantly. She was draped over Nicholas’s shoulders, laughing uproariously at something he was shouting, a red plastic cup held aloft in a toast. She was in her element, completely and utterly off-duty as your safety net.

A wave of pure, claustrophobic panic crested over you. You couldn’t breathe. You needed out. Now.

Your feet moved before your brain fully caught up, carrying you on a desperate search through the shifting crowd. You found them—of course—in a slightly quieter corner of the living room, holding court with a small group. Euijoo was leaning against a bookshelf, listening to something Sunghoon was saying with a faint smile. Jaeyun was animatedly telling a story, his hands flying.

You didn’t have the capacity for social grace. You walked right up to them, interrupting the flow. Jaeyun’s story trailed off. You knew you probably looked wild-eyed and pale, a deer caught in a wolf pack’s den.

“I need to go home,” you blurted out, your voice strained over the music. “Now. Can one of you…?” You glanced desperately between Euijoo and Jaeyun, unable to finish the sentence. Take me? Save me?

The easy smiles faded from their faces. Euijoo straightened up, his gaze sweeping over you, taking in your tense posture and your white-knuckled grip on your bag. Jaeyun’s expression shifted from surprise to immediate concern.

“Where’s Yujin?” Jaeyun asked, his voice cutting through the noise.

You just gestured vaguely, miserably, towards the kitchen. “With Nicholas. She’s…..busy.”

Euijoo didn’t ask another question. He simply nodded, a decisive dip of his chin. “I’ll get my keys.” He pushed off the bookshelf.

“I’m coming.” Jaeyun said instantly, already falling into step beside him. He shot an apologetic look at their friends.

Yet another task that did not require three people. Especially when the panties of one of the person’s was wetter than water itself.

Minutes later, you were sliding into the backseat of Euijoo’s clean sedan, Jaeyun got in the passenger side. The moment the doors closed, the cacophony of the party was severed, replaced by an absolute, crushing silence.

The engine purred to life. Euijoo navigated out of the packed street, his eyes fixed on the road. Jaeyun stared out the passenger window. No one spoke.

The silence in the car was thick with everything that had been said and everything that hadn’t. It was louder than the party had been. You sat in the back, curled slightly into the door, watching the streaks of streetlights pass over their profiles—Euijoo’s focused stillness, Jaeyun’s uncharacteristic quiet. The only sounds were the soft hum of the engine and the turn signal’s steady, mocking click.

Enjoy the party, he’d said. You were definitely not enjoying the car ride.

The silence stretched through every turn, every stoplight, a suffocating blanket over the three of you. By the time Euijoo pulled into a visitor spot near your dorm, the tension had coiled so tight you felt you might snap. You moved to unbuckle your seatbelt, a mumbled "Thanks for the ride" already forming on your lips.

"Which floor?" Euijoo's voice cut through the quiet, calm and matter-of-fact. He was already turning off the engine.

"Oh, you don't have to—I can get up on my own," you stammered, the idea of them escorting you amplifying your anxiety tenfold.

"It's late." Jaeyun said, his tone leaving no room for argument as he popped his door open. The finality in his voice brooked no protest.

The walk across the dimly lit quad was just as silent as the car ride, their footsteps a synchronized echo behind you. The main lobby was deserted, the fluorescent lights humming overhead. You jabbed the elevator button, wishing for the stairs but knowing your heels—chosen in a moment of foolish, fantasy-inspired bravery—made that impossible.

The elevator doors slid open with a soft ding. The three of you stepped into the mirrored box, and the close quarters made the silence even more profound. As the doors closed, sealing you in, your awareness of your own body became acute, screamingly so. 

Your little black dress, which had felt so daring and powerful when you'd put it on, now felt like a trap. The hem was so short, the neckline plunged so deep. In the mirrored walls, you could see everything—the expanse of your thighs, the shadowed curve of your cleavage. And you could see them. You didn't dare look directly, but in the reflection, you caught it. 

Jaeyun's gaze, usually so open and bright, was dark and fixed—not on your face, but tracing a slow, deliberate path down your reflected form. Euijoo stood with his hands in his pockets, his posture relaxed, but his eyes in the mirror were like lasers, burning with an intensity that made your skin prickle. He was staring right at the deep V of your neckline, his expression unreadable but utterly focused. They weren't even trying to hide it. The acknowledgment of your fantasy had stripped away all pretense.

You stared rigidly at the ascending floor numbers, your face flaming, your earlier dampness returning with a vengeance. The elevator seemed to crawl.

Finally, with another merciful ding, the doors opened on your floor. You practically bolted out, the click of your heels on the linoleum too loud in the empty hallway. You led the way to your door, fumbling with your keys, painfully aware of the two presences looming behind you.

You got the door open and stepped across the threshold into the familiar, safe darkness of your dorm. You turned, a hurried "Okay, well, thanks again, goodnigh—" already tumbling out.

But before you could swing the door shut, a hand shot out. Jaeyun’s fingers curled around the edge of the door, not forcefully, but with an undeniable firmness that stopped its motion completely. You looked up, your heart hammering against your ribs.

Euijoo took a single, slow step forward, crossing the threshold to stand just inside your doorway, crowding your personal space. He looked down at you, a faint, cocky smirk playing on his lips—the same smirk you’d imagined a hundred times in your writing. His voice was a low, teasing rumble that vibrated in the small space between you.

“What, doll?” he asked, his eyes glinting with challenge and promise. “Aren’t you going to invite us in?”

The air in your doorway vanished, replaced by the heat of their presence. They were inside your space, their taller frames casting shadows over you in the dim light from the hallway.

You stumbled back a step, your heels catching on the rug, and they followed, a synchronized unit. Jaeyun released the door, letting it swing shut behind them with a soft, final click. The sound sealed you in with them. The familiar safety of your dorm was instantly transformed into an electrically charged arena.

You were backed against the edge of your desk, with nowhere else to go. Euijoo didn’t touch you, but he stood close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from his body. Jaeyun leaned against the closed door, his arms crossed, watching with a lazy, predatory interest.

“You’re shaking.” Jaeyun observed, his voice soft but clear in the quiet room. 

“It’s cold,” you lied, your voice a thin thread.

Euijoo’s smirk deepened. He reached out, not to grab you, but to gently take a strand of your hair between his fingers, rubbing the silky texture. 

“Liar.” He murmured, his tone conversational, almost casual. “Pretty little liar. Thinking about things you shouldn’t be thinking about with the guys you tutor standing right here.”

His words, so blunt, so filthy in their simplicity, sent a jolt straight through you. You whimpered, a tiny, pathetic sound you immediately wished you could take back.

Jaeyun pushed off the door and took a few steps into the room, his gaze sweeping over your cramped space before landing back on you. 

“This where you wrote it?” he asked, nodding toward your laptop on the desk behind you. “Where you dreamed up all those pretty little scenes? Where you imagined what we’d feel like?”

Each word was a gentle probe, prying you open. They were talking about your deepest secret like they were discussing the weather, and the casual confidence of it was unraveling you faster than any overt aggression could have.

“I…” you tried, but no other words came.

Euijoo’s finger released your hair and trailed down the side of your neck, a whisper of a touch that made you shudder violently. 

“You described it so well, honey,” he continued, his voice dropping to that intimate rumble. “The way you wanted to be touched, the way you wanted to be praised. Damn, almost made it seem real.”

Jaeyun was right in front of you now, standing beside Euijoo, boxing you in completely. “So here’s the question,” Jaeyun said, his eyes locked on yours. He reached out and cupped your cheek, his thumb stroking over your cheekbone. “All that imagination…..do you want to see what the reality feels like?”

The question hung there, immense and terrifying. Your fantasy, your secret, was being offered back to you, in flesh and blood and breath. Your mind screamed a dozen warnings, but your body, still humming from the elevator, from their stares, from their filthy, casual words, had only one answer.

You swallowed, your throat dry. “Yes,” you whispered, the word barely audible.

“What was that, doll?” Euijoo’s head tilted. “We didn’t quite hear you.”

They were making you say it. They were making you claim it. The humiliation was a fire in your veins, mixing with the desperate want. Oh how pathetically you wanted them. 

“Yes,” you said again, your voice trembling but louder.

Jaeyun’s thumb stilled on your cheek. A slow, beautiful smile spread across his face. He glanced at Euijoo, and they shared a look—a look of shared understanding, mutual hunger and triumph.

“Alright then,” Euijoo said, his smirk softening into something devastating. His hand came up to cradle your other cheek, so you were held between them, the center of their dual attention. “Good girl.”

Jaeyun leaned in, his lips brushing your ear. “That’s our clever girl,” he murmured, the praise sinking into your soul like a brand. “Now, let’s see how real we can make it for you.”

You always knew that you had a penchant for staying in the clouds, in the solitary heaven you’d created for yourself where everything was perfect and you were perfect and all was rainbows and cupcakes. Daydreaming was such a good way to escape this depressing and dark, real world.

But now?

Reality had never felt like such a fucking dream.

The first thing you registered after that was the solid press of Jaeyun's body against yours. One of his hands found your waist while the other cupped your jaw, tilting your face up to meet his kiss. There was nothing tentative about it—he kissed you like he'd been waiting for permission for weeks, mouth warm and demanding, tongue sliding against yours before you could even think to part your lips.

You made a sound against his mouth, somewhere between a gasp and a whimper, and he swallowed it whole. His palm slid down from your waist to grip your thigh, hitching your leg up around his hip. Your dress rode up higher, the fabric bunching around your hips as his fingers found bare skin.

"Been thinking about this aaall night, honey," he murmured against your throat, lips trailing down to the sensitive spot behind your ear. “You wore this tiny little thing for us, yeah?” His fingers pressed into the soft flesh of your inner thigh, teasing, luxurious. “You’re too damn sweet, baby."

A rustle of movement from across the room reminded you that you weren't alone. Your eyes fluttered open, dazed, and found Euijoo settled into the desk chair he'd pulled into the corner. He leaned back, legs spread wide, one hand resting casually on his thigh. His gaze was heavy-lidded, tracking every movement Jaeyun made against you like he was studying something precious.

"Oh please, don't stop on my account," Euijoo said, his voice low and smooth. A small smile curved his lips. "I'm enjoying the show, doll."

Heat flooded your cheeks, but before you could formulate a response, Jaeyun's fingers found your cunt through the damp fabric of your panties. Your breath hitched, head falling back against the wall. He pressed two fingers against you, rubbing slow circles over the soaked cotton, and you felt yourself clench around nothing.

"Already this wet?" Jaeyun's voice was husky with surprise and satisfaction. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties and pulled them down, letting them fall to your ankles. "God, you've been hiding this from us all this time, haven't you? Sweet little girl, so quiet and proper—"

His words dissolved into a groan as he dipped his fingers between your folds, finding you slick and ready. He circled your clit once, testing, and your whole body jolted like an electric shock.

"That's it," he breathed. "That's it, honey."

Jaeyun worked you open slowly, one finger sliding inside, then two, curling and pressing until you were gripping his shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt. The stretch was delicious, the pressure building low in your belly as he pumped his fingers in and out, his thumb pressing against your clit in rhythm.

Euijoo watched unmoving, but you saw the way his hand tightened on his thigh, the way his jaw tensed—when your breathing turned ragged, when your hips started rolling forward to meet Jaeyun's hand, he spoke.

"Look at him, doll. Look at what he's doing to you."

Your eyes found his across the room—dark, intense, focused entirely on you. The eye contact sent a thrill straight through you, and your walls fluttered around Jaeyun's fingers.

"You gonna cum for him?" Euijoo's voice dropped lower. "Let him feel it."

Jaeyun pressed harder, palm grinding against your clit as his fingers curled deep, hitting that spot inside you that made stars burst behind your eyelids. "That's it, honey. Let go—I've got you."

The orgasm hit you like a wave breaking, sudden and immense. Your back arched off the wall, a cry tearing from your throat as your body seized and shuddered around his hand. 

It was nothing like the careful, solitary orgasm you'd given yourself in this very room before—this was devastating, all-consuming, pulling you under and leaving you gasping for air.

"Fuck….” Jaeyun muttered, watching you come apart against him. "Look at you. Fucking beautiful."

Before you could catch your breath, strong hands were lifting you. Perhaps it was under the stupor of your newfound pleasure that you didn't even notice Euijoo crossing the room, his arms sliding under your knees and back as he carried you the few steps to your bed. He laid you down gently, the mattress dipping under your weight.

“My turn?” He said, and it wasn't a question.

Euijoo settled between your thighs, pushing your dress up past your hips until you were bare to him, glistening and sensitive. 

Jaeyun moved to the head of the bed, propping himself against the wall, one hand reaching down to brush the hair from your face.

Euijoo's first touch was a kiss—soft, almost reverent, pressed to the inside of your thigh. Then another, higher; then his tongue, flat and warm, sliding through your folds from bottom to top.

You whimpered, hips bucking, oversensitive from your first orgasm. But Euijoo held you down with firm hands on your thighs, anchoring you as he worked you open with his mouth.

"Easy, doll.” Euijoo murmured against your cunt, and the vibration made you gasp. "We're not done yet."

He ate you like a man starving, tongue circling your clit, dipping inside you, lapping up every drop of wetness. He found a rhythm—long, slow licks that built pressure deep in your core, punctuated by sharp sucks that made your vision white out. 

His nose pressed against your clit as his tongue fucked into you, and you heard yourself begging, words falling out of your mouth without permission.

"Please, please, please—"

"One more," Euijoo said, pulling back just enough to look up at you, his chin slick, his eyes dark with hunger. "Give me one more, doll. I know you have it." He sealed his mouth over your clit and sucked, two fingers sliding into you, curling in that same devastating spot Jaeyun had found. 

The combination was too much, exactly enough—your second orgasm crashed over you like a thunderstorm, harder and deeper than the first, ripping a scream from your throat that echoed off the dorm room walls.

Euijoo didn't stop—riding you through it, tongue gentle now, lapping at your sensitive flesh until you were twitching and moaning, your hands fisting in the sheets. Only then did he crawl up the bed, his lips and chin glistening, and press a kiss to your forehead.

"There she is," he whispered, thumb brushing away a tear you hadn't realized you'd shed. "Perfect little thing."

Your body was a trembling sea of aftershocks, floating in a haze of endorphins and praise. Euijoo’s gentle kiss on your forehead felt so sweet and searing. You could feel him shift beside you on the bed, his weight dipping the mattress.

From the other side, a low, appreciative chuckle broke through the heavy silence. You turned your head to see Jaeyun. His own need was evident in the tight line of his jaw and the heat in his eyes. He was leaning against your headboard, having shed his shirt at some point you couldn’t remember.

“Look at her.” Jaeyun said, his voice rough. He reached out, his fingers tracing a path from your knee up your inner thigh, a touch that was both an angelic caress and a possessive claim. “Absolutely ruined. And we’ve barely even started, baby.”

Euijoo propped himself up on an elbow beside you, his gaze moving from your dazed face down your splayed, spent body. “She took it so well, didn’t she?” he mused, his tone one of proud admiration. “Just like she wrote she would.” He chuckled, “Our smart girl, yeah?”

The reminder of your own words, of the script they were now following, sent a fresh, dizzying thrill through you. You were living your own story. 

And fuck did the line where reality and fiction blend feel like taking nectar in your tongue.

Jaeyun’s hand slid higher, his thumb brushing through the wetness Euijoo had left behind. You jolted at the contact, still impossibly sensitive. “Think she’s ready for more?” he asked Euijoo, though his eyes never left yours.

Euijoo’s hand came to rest on your stomach, a warm, heavy weight. He leaned down, his lips grazing your ear. “That’s the question, honey,” he murmured, the petname a velvet command. “You gave us two beautiful, perfect little gifts. But we’re not done, are we?”

He pulled back to look at you, waiting for an answer. Your mind was foggy, your body pliant and humming. All you could do was shake your head weakly. Not done at all.

Jaeyun’s smile was sharp as he moved, swinging his legs off the bed to stand. You heard the soft sound of his belt buckle clinking, “Good.” He said, his voice dropping into a deeper register. “Because we’ve been sharing you so nicely, I think it’s time you felt what that’s really like.”

Euijoo pressed another kiss to your temple before moving as well. He sat up, his back against the wall, and patted his thigh. “Come here, doll. Let’s get you comfortable.”

With trembling limbs, you let him guide you, pulling you up to straddle his lap, your back to his chest. He wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you securely against him. From this vantage point, you watched Jaeyun finish undressing, the intent in his movements clear and devastating.

“Remember what you wrote about sharing, clever girl?” Euijoo whispered into your hair, his hands smoothing over your hips. “About being ours?” You could only nod, your breath catching as Jaeyun approached the bed, his gaze burning into you.

“Time to make it real,” Jaeyun said, his voice a soft rumble as he kneeled on the mattress before you. He reached out, tilting your chin up with a finger. “You’re doing so well. Just keep being good for us.”

The shift in position was fluid, almost choreographed—Jaeyun guiding you onto your side, his body molding against your front as his arm wrapped around your waist. His chest was warm against your back, or rather, your front against his, and you felt the hard length of him pressing against your thigh through his jeans. Behind you, the mattress dipped as Euijoo settled in, the heat of his body sealing against your spine.

"Comfortable, doll?" Euijoo's breath ghosted over the back of your neck, and you shivered, nodding weakly.

Jaeyun's hand slid down your stomach, fingers grazing your hypersensitive clit, making you jolt. "She's more than comfortable," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "She's perfect. Ready for us, honey?"

Before you could answer, Euijoo's hand found your hip, guiding your leg back, opening you up to him. You felt the blunt head of his cock pressing against your slick folds, not entering, just teasing, sliding through your wetness. At the same time, Jaeyun aligned himself with your entrance, his tip nudging against your opening.  You never knew the both of them to be so mean, but fuckkkk did it feel so good.

"Who do you think will make her cum first?" Euijoo's voice was low, his lips brushing your ear.

Jaeyun chuckled, the sound vibrating against your chest. "She's already cum twice from my fingers and your mouth. But inside? I think I've got this one, baby."

"Bet." Euijoo said, and before you could process the word, he pushed inside you in one slow, steady thrust.

The sound you made was broken, a high keen that turned into a gasp as Jaeyun entered you at the same time, filling your other hole with equal slowness. For a moment, you were suspended between them, stretched so fucking full in both ways, the sensation overwhelming—too much and not enough, a perfect, aching fullness that made your eyes roll back back back.

"Oh—fuck! nghhh…” you heard yourself whimper, your voice thin and wrecked. You felt like a sinner in church and an angel roaming Eden all at once. But what thoughts were even required when both of their cocks inside you had your brain going quiet for once?

"That's it, honey." Jaeyun breathed, his forehead pressing against yours. His hips were still, letting you adjust, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your waist. "Take your time. We've got you."

Behind you, Euijoo let out a low groan, his fingers digging into your hip. "Fucking hell doll, you're so tight. Squeezing me like you were made for this."

“She is made for this, yeah?” Jaeyun said, his warm breath tickling your skin. 

They stayed still for a long moment, letting you feel the stretch, the heat, the weight of both of them buried inside you like roots in earth. Your breath came in ragged pants, your body trembling between them; the fullness was maddening, a deep pressure that made your head spin.

Then Jaeyun moved, pulling back out halfway and thrusting back in, a slow stroke that had your mouth falling open. Euijoo followed his rhythm, withdrawing and pushing back in counterpoint—one sliding out as the other slid in, creating a continuous wave of sensation that built with every movement.

"Oh, oh, oh—" The sounds fell from your lips unbidden, broken and desperate, a lamb on the altar begging to have her pretty throat be marked red.

"Listen to her," Euijoo muttered, his pace quickening. "Listen to those pretty sounds. She's been so quiet all semester, and now look at her."

Jaeyun's hand found your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide, a sheen of sweat on his brow. "Yeah, honey. Let us hear you. Let everyone in the hall hear what we're doing to you."

They fell into a punishing rhythm, each driving into you with increasing urgency. It wasn't gentle—it was rough, demanding, but the way Jaeyun kept brushing the hair from your face, the way Euijoo pressed open-mouthed kisses to your shoulder—fuck for a moment, it made you feel like they actually cared. 

"Who's gonna make you cum first, baby?" Euijoo growled, his pace quickening. His hand slid around your hip, fingers finding your clit and pressing hard. "Me or him?"

Jaeyun answered by driving deeper, hitting a spot that made you cry out. "Her pussy's squeezing me like she's close. Come on, honey, cum for me. Beat him to it."

The competition spurred them both, each trying to outdo the other—Jaeyun fucking you harder, Euijoo's fingers working your clit faster, their words blurring into a stream of praise and encouragement. You were caught between them, unable to think, unable to do anything but feel as they used your body for their race. And you did not give a single fuck about anything else at that moment. 

"Fuck, she's clenching around me," Jaeyun groaned. "She's close, she's so close—"

"Cum for us, doll," Euijoo demanded, his thrusts growing sloppy. "Cum with me. Now."

Your orgasm cracked through you like lightning, sudden and violent, tearing a scream from your throat that was muffled by Jaeyun's mouth crashing against yours. Your body convulsed between them, waves of pleasure ripping through you as your walls clamped down around both of them.

"That's it, that's it, fuck—" Jaeyun's hips stuttered, and you felt him spill inside you, hot and thick, his groan swallowed by the kiss.

Behind you, Euijoo followed, his body tensing as he buried himself deep, a guttural sound escaping his throat as he came. His hand never stopped pressing against your clit, riding you through the aftershocks until you were sobbing, tears streaming down your cheeks, your body limp and trembling.

When it was over, the only sounds were heavy breathing and your quiet, hiccupping sobs. Euijoo pulled out gently, collapsing behind you, while Jaeyun eased out with a wince, his hand immediately coming up to wipe the tears from your face.

"Hey, hey," he murmured, his voice soft now, all the roughness gone. "You okay, honey? Was that too much?"

You shook your head, unable to form words, tears still leaking from your eyes. Euijoo's arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you back against his chest, sandwiching you between them.

“Yeah she’s alright. Just sore yeah?” Euijoo said, his lips pressing to the back of your head. "That means we did our job right."

Jaeyun laughed, a breathless, satisfied sound, and pressed a kiss to your nose. "Told you she was perfect. Look at her, pretty little thing.”

You lay there, cocooned between their bodies, the warmth of them surrounding you as the tears dried on your cheeks and your breathing slowly steadied. Nothing in your life had ever felt like this. Nothing had ever come close.

And you knew that nothing ever would for the foreseeable future.

__________________

Three days.

Three days of aching muscles, of tender reminders every time you shifted in your chair or climbed the stairs to your dorm. A delicious, secret soreness that made you blush whenever you remembered its source. 

You’d missed Intro to Psych on Monday, texting your professor a vague excuse about a migraine. An hour later, there was a soft knock on your door. It was Jaeyun, holding a neatly bound set of notes and a small white pastry box from the expensive French bakery downtown.

“Compliments of the house,” he’d said, his smile easy but his eyes holding a familiar, knowing heat. “Euijoo sends his regrets. He’s…tied up with family.”

Inside the box were two perfect, flaky pain au chocolat. The apology was unspoken but clear, and it made your stomach flutter. They’d wrecked you, and then they’d brought you pastries. The absurd domesticity of it was almost more overwhelming than the night itself.

Now, it’s Wednesday afternoon. You’re in the library, tucked into a secluded carrel on the third floor, the quiet hum of study around you. The scent of old paper and lemon-scented wood polish filled the air. Biology 201 notes were spread before you, but they might as well be hieroglyphics.

Because Jaeyun was here.

Euijoo, true to his word, was at a family function so it was just you and Jaeyun. He’d suggested the library with a perfectly straight face, citing the need for a “distraction-free environment.” The irony was a breathing thing between you.

He was sitting right beside you, close enough that his arm brushed yours whenever he turned a page. For the first twenty minutes, he was the picture of academic focus, explaining enzymatic pathways with his usual patient clarity. But then his hand, which had been resting on the table, found its way to the back of your chair. As always. 

His fingers began to play with the ends of your hair, idly twisting a strand around his index finger. The touch was casual, almost absent-minded, but it sent a jolt of awareness straight down your spine. You tried to focus on the diagram of a mitochondria.

“You’re not following,” he murmured, his voice low so as not to carry in the quiet library.

“I am.” You whispered back, your eyes glued to the page.

“Mmhmm.” His fingers left your hair and for a second, you thought you were safe. Then his hand dropped below the solid wood of the table, out of sight of any wandering eyes, coming to rest on your thigh, just above your knee. Of course it had to be the one day you wore a skirt. 

Jaeyun didn’t move for a long moment, just let his hand sit there; then his fingers began to stroke a gentle, up-and-down caress along the inner seam of your jeans—a chaste touch through the thick fabric. 

“Jaeyun…” You breathed out, a desperate, quiet plea.

“Shh,” he hushed you, his face the picture of scholarly concentration as he looked at your textbook. His hand slid higher, his thumb now pressing in a slow circle against the sensitive muscle of your inner thigh. 

You whimpered, the sound swallowed by the vast, quiet room. The words were blurring, all you could feel was the relentless stroke of his hand, moving steadily higher.

Jaeyun leaned in closer, his lips almost brushing your ear, his breath warm. “You’re thinking about it again, aren’t you?” he whispered, the words a secret just for you. His fingers reached the juncture of your thighs and pressed, a firm pressure.

Your whispered "yes" was barely audible, but Jaeyun's eyes darkened with something that made your stomach flip. He closed your textbook with a soft thud, slid it into his bag, and stood, extending his hand to you.

"Come on.” He said, his voice calm and collected, as if he asked you to follow him to the library's storage room every day. Not like you would have minded if he asked everyday.

You took his hand, your legs unsteady as he led you through the maze of shelves until you reached a narrow door tucked between two towering bookcases. He pushed it open, revealing a small storage area—old filing cabinets, boxes and a single dim bulb casting weak light over the cramped space. The door clicked shut behind you, and suddenly the world outside ceased to exist.

Jaeyun turned to face you, backing you against the wall until your shoulders pressed against the cold metal of a filing cabinet. His hands found your waist, gripping the hem of your skirt, bunching the fabric in his fists.

"You've never done this before, have you, honey?" He asked, but it wasn't really a question. His thumb traced your lower lip, pressing slightly. You shook your head, heat flooding your cheeks.

“That’s ok, I’ll teach you, hmm?” He smiled, a soft, almost tender expression that contrasted sharply with the hunger in his eyes. "Just do exactly what I say, and you'll be perfect."

Jaeyun guided you down, his hands gentle but firm on your shoulders until you were kneeling on the dusty floor, the cold tile seeping through the fabric of your skirt. He stood over you, tall and imposing, and you watched as his hands moved to his belt, unbuckling it with slow movements.

"Open your mouth," he instructed, his voice low.

You obeyed, parting your lips. He pulled himself free, his cock already hard and straining, the tip brushing against your lower lip. The taste of salt and skin hit your tongue before you'd even taken him in.

"Good girl.” He breathed, and then he fed himself into your mouth, one slow inch at a time.

The sensation was overwhelming—the weight of him on your tongue, the stretch of your lips around his girth, the musky taste of him flooding your senses. Your hands flew up to grip his thighs for balance, and you felt the muscles jump under your fingers.

"That's it…fuckkk…” He groaned, his head falling back. "Just like that. Let me feel that pretty mouth."

His hand found the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair, and he began to guide you, setting a slow rhythm that had you bobbing your head against his hips. You tried to relax your throat, to take him deeper, but the instinct to gag fought against your willingness.

"You can take more," he murmured, his voice strained now, losing its composed edge. "Relax your throat for me.” You tried, focusing on the instruction, and when you managed to take him a little deeper, his whiny groan was your reward.

"Fuck yes…ohhhh..” Jaeyun hissed, his grip tightening in your hair. "You're doing so well, baby. So fucking perfect on your knees."

His hips began to move, a shallow thrust that pushed him deeper into your throat, and you felt tears prick at your eyes as you struggled to accommodate him. But the taste of his approval, the sound of his voice breaking for you—it drove you forward, made you want to be better, want to make him feel as good as he made you feel.

"Close.” He panted, his rhythm faltering. "I'm so close, honey. Where do you want it?" You couldn't answer with your mouth full, but you looked up at him, eyes wet and pleading, and he seemed to understand.

Jaeyun pulled out abruptly, his hand moving to stroke himself twice, three times, before he spilled across your lips and cheeks—hot, thick ropes of cum that painted your skin. The sight of you, kneeling before him with his release marking your face, made him groan again, his chest heaving.

"Fuck.” He breathed, staring down at you. "That's the prettiest thing I've ever seen." He crouched down, using his thumb to wipe a stripe of cum from your cheek and bring it to your lips. "Taste it," he instructed. You parted your lips and let him feed it to you, the bitter taste filling your mouth.

"One more," he said, his voice already thick with renewed arousal. "You can give me one more, can't you?"

You nodded, your throat raw but eager, wanting to feel him in your mouth again and again again. Cock drunk slut, you thought to yourself. Jaeyun smiled, a sharp, possessive curl of his lips, and guided your mouth back to him. He was already hardening again, sensitive and swollen, but he didn't hesitate to push himself past your lips.

This time, he was less patient, less gentle. You’d learn your lesson, time to put it to the test right? His hand fisted in your hair, holding you in place as he fucked your throat with shallow thrusts. Each push made you gag, tears streaming down your cheeks, but the noises he made—the desperate, whiny gasps that fell from his lips like angelic choruses—were worth every second of discomfort.

"Fuck, your mouth is—hah—so good…”groaned, his hips stuttering. "Such a good little cocksucker. Taking it so well for me."

Your hands clutched at his thighs, nails digging into the denim as he used you, chasing his second release with single-minded focus. The sounds you made were wet, obscene, gurgling around his length, and the shame of it only made the heat between your thighs burn hotter.

"Look at me," he demanded. You forced your tear-blurred eyes up to meet his. "Watch me cum for you again."

And then he was spilling down your throat, hot and thick, a broken moan tearing from his lips as he emptied himself into your mouth. He held you there, his cock twitching against your tongue, until the last wave passed.

When he finally pulled out, you slumped forward, your forehead pressing against his thigh, chest heaving as you gasped for air. Your throat burned, your jaw ached, and your face was a mess of tears, drool, and cum.

But when he crouched down, cupping your face in his hands and wiping away the mess with gentle thumbs, you felt nothing but a warm, glowing gratitude.

And also the urge to do this a hundred times over.

_____________

It really seemed to be a sort of schedule at this point—a ritual of horniness even. 

If Jaeyun got you coffee one day, Euijoo would get it for you the next day. If Euijoo fixed the ribbon in your hair in the morning, Jaeyun would brush dust off your shoulder in the evening.

So if Jaeyun had taught you how to use those pretty little lips of yours, Euijoo had to teach you something too?

Which is how you ended up in the situation you were in.

To be fair, it had been fairly Jaeyun’s fault. After all, nobody told him to get crap drunk and pass out in the middle of the day, completely forgetting the fact that they’d invited you over to the frat building for tutoring in view of your usual library being closed. 

So after being invited in by Jungwon and being told to wait in the kitchen while Euijoo came back from class (he’d also told you all about his pet cactus in the meanwhile before Fuma dragged him off by the collar of his shirt), you were finally sitting in his. Alone. With him. Yeah, completely survivable situation.

It was neater than you’d expected—books arranged by subject and color on a shelf, a single succulent thriving on the windowsill, the scent of clean laundry and his cologne—something crisp and subtle with a hint of sandalwood. The door was closed, muffling the distant sounds of a video game and shouting from elsewhere in the house.

You’d set up at his small desk, your biology textbook open to a chapter you were not interested in. Euijoo had pulled his desk chair right beside yours, his arm brushing yours as he leaned over the page.

For the first fifteen minutes, it was productive. He was nodding along to all your explanations, tracing his fingers over the particularly harder sections and chuckling whenever you made some ridiculous analogy to explain. But then his gaze, always so careful and respectful, drifted. 

It landed on the V-neck of your shirt, on the sliver of skin and the hint of lace-edged cleavage the dip of the fabric revealed.  Had you worn this top on purpose? Of course not. But with the way your inner thighs were heating up at the moment, the way you were sitting, the subtle arch of your back—it all felt like a swan dance to seduce him.

He didn’t say anything at first. He just…..looked. His pen, which had been tapping a rhythm on the page, stilled. The atmosphere in the room shifted, growing thicker and warmer.

“This is a complex system,” You said, trying not to let your voice waver. His finger came to trace a line on the textbook, but his eyes lifted to yours as you continued. His gaze dropped back to your chest, lingering.

“Explain it again?” He asked, though his eyes never seemed to go to the actual words on the page. Euijoo’s voice was so rough and low pitched now, practically a growl that your breath hitched. 

He reached out then, not for you, but for the pencil cup on his desk, selecting a pen, his movements slow. As he pulled his hand back, the back of his knuckles grazed the upper swell of your breast, just above your shirt’s neckline. The touch was fleeting, accidental in its choreography but devastating in its effect. A bolt of pure, liquid heat shot straight to your core. You flinched, a tiny, involuntary jump.

A faint, knowing smile touched his lips. “Sorry,” he said, not sounding sorry at all. He went back to the textbook, pointing at a paragraph, “Can we do this again?” 

But you couldn’t even answer him. He shifted in his chair, turning his body more towards you, his knee pressing against yours under the desk, “I don’t think I get this part, principle of concentration or whatever.”

Euijoo was looking at your mouth, then your eyes, then back at the revealing dip of your shirt. The academic pretense was a thin, shimmering veil now, and you were both watching it dissolve.

The scent of him—that clean sandalwood and something uniquely, essentially Euijoo—enveloped you. His hand came up again, but this time there was no pretense of reaching for a pen. His fingertips brushed the column of your throat, then drifted down, skimming the sensitive skin just above the neckline of your shirt. You stopped breathing.

“Euijoo,” you managed, a weak protest that sounded more like a plea.

“Yes, doll?” he asked innocently, his fingers pausing, his thumb now stroking a hypnotic little circle on your collarbone. “What is it?”

This handsome asshole. 

“You know, Jaeyun told me something interesting.” He leaned in even closer, his lips beside your ear.

His breath was warm. “Taught you how to use that pretty little mouth, hmm?” He murmured, the words a soft, sinful secret. “I think it’s my turn to teach you something else, don’t you think darling?”

His hand finally slipped past the barrier of your shirt, his palm curving over the lace of your bra, cupping you fully. You gasped, arching into the touch despite yourself.

Euijoo hummed, a sound of deep approval. His thumb found your nipple through the lace and rubbed, slow and firm. “Learning pretty quick, aren’t you doll?”

So that was how you’d ended up in the position you were currently in. Sitting comfortably on his lean waist, while his hands gripped your hips as he looked up at you with a look of worship in his eyes. Like you’d become his new deity to shower praise upon. 

The offer had slipped out so casually, like he was asking if you wanted another cup of coffee. “Let’s take some of that stress off, yeah?” Euijoo had said, his voice low and steady, eyes fixed on yours with that intense focus. Your mouth had gone dry, but you'd nodded before your brain could catch up with your body. 

Now here you were, perched on his waist, his bed creaking softly beneath the two of you. He'd stripped off his shirt somewhere between the desk and the mattress, leaving him in just a loose pair of grey sweats that did nothing to hide how much he wanted you. His hands found your hips, thumbs pressing into the soft skin just above the waistband of your skirt.

"You're so pretty," he breathed, looking up at you like you were something sacred. "God, look at you. Sitting on me like you own me." Your hands braced against his chest, feeling the firm muscle beneath warm skin. His heart was racing—you could feel it hammering against your palms.

"You need to take this off, doll.” Euijoo said, fingers hooking into the hem of your pink shirt. "Can't teach you properly with it in the way."

You let him pull it over your head, tossing it somewhere behind him without a second glance. His eyes dropped to your chest, and the sharp inhale he took made heat pool low in your belly.

"Fuck," he whispered. "Can I touch them, pretty?"

You nodded, and his hands were on you instantly, cupping the weight of your breasts through the thin fabric of your bra. His thumbs traced over your nipples, already hard and sensitive, and you gasped at the contact.

"Please…" you managed, the word barely a whisper.

Euijoo's fingers found the clasp of your bra with practiced ease, and soon the garment joined your shirt on the floor. The cool air hit your bare skin for half a second before his mouth was on you, lips wrapping around one nipple while his hand worked the other. You cried out, your hips bucking forward against his stomach. The pressure was perfect, his tongue flicking against the sensitive peak while his thumb rolled the other between his fingers.

"That's it," he murmured against your skin, switching to give the other breast the same attention. "God, your tits are perfect. Been thinking about them all week."

"How long?" you gasped, fingers threading through his hair.

"Since the first time you wore that pretty little pink top," he admitted, lips trailing up your chest to your collarbone. "Couldn't focus on a single thing you said.”

You should have been embarrassed, but the confession only made you wetter, made you grind down against his hard length with more desperation. The friction through his sweats was maddening, not nearly enough. Euijoo's hands guided your movements, showing you how to rock your hips against him, how to find a rhythm that made his eyes roll back.

"Feel that? Feel what you do to me, doll?" he asked, voice strained. "You nodded, focusing on the motion, on the way his cock pressed against you through the layers of clothing. It wasn't enough, you needed more.

"I want—" you started, but the words caught in your throat.

"I know what you want," he said softly, his hands sliding down to grip your ass. "But you have to ask nicely, baby.”

Heat flooded your cheeks, but the ache between your thighs overpowered any shyness. "I want you inside me. Please, Euijoo."

"Yeah?" His voice was thick, almost reverent. "You wanna ride me, sweet girl?”

"Yes, please, please—"

The sudden tightening of his hands settled on your hips told you everything you needed to know. Jealous, jealous Euijoo, how dare Jaeyun have you alone before him? His thumbs pressed into the jut of your hip bones, grounding you, holding you steady as you hovered above him.

"Then take what's yours," he breathed, the words barely a whisper but he heard them. 

Your fingers, trembling with need, fumbled for the waistband of his grey sweats. The fabric was soft, worn, and the simple intimacy of undressing him like this sent another jolt of heat through you. He didn't help, just watched you with heavy-lidded intensity, his chest rising and falling in a quickened rhythm.

You hooked your thumbs under the elastic and the thin cotton of his boxers beneath, pushing them down in one urgent motion. His cock sprang free, thick and flushed and already leaking at the tip, straining upwards against his stomach. The sight stole the air from your lungs, he was so painfully and beautifully hard for you.

"Look at you," Euijoo murmured, his voice rough with awe and impatience. "So pretty for me.” 

"Slow," he instructed, his voice low and controlled, nothing like the breathless, whiny sounds Jaeyun had made in the library. Euijoo was so very attractively calm. "Lower yourself onto me slowly, doll.”

You positioned yourself, the blunt, hot head of him nudging against your soaked entrance. A shuddering breath escaped you. You already felt so full in a way that felt like coming home. Your hands braced against his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat under your palms. You whined high as you sank down, inch by inch, the stretch of him filling you in a slow, burning glide that made your vision blur. His fingers tightened on your hips, a sharp inhale escaping through his nose. 

"Good girl…" he breathed. "Just like that. Take all of me."

When you were fully seated, his pelvis flush against yours, you stilled, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. He was so deep inside you, hitting a spot that made your thighs tremble. He let you adjust, his thumbs stroking soothing circles into your skin.

"Now," he said, his voice patient, almost gentle, "roll your hips baby, take it slow.”

You tried, moving your hips in an awkward circle, and his hands guided you, showing you the rhythm. His grip was firm, correcting your angle, tilting your pelvis until the motion felt natural. The friction was maddening, his cock dragging against your walls with every slow rotation.

"There," he murmured, satisfaction lacing his tone. "You're learning so well doll."

Then his hands were on your skin, cupping the weight of your breasts in his palms, his thumbs brushing over your nipples in slow, teasing passes. "Beautiful," he said, almost to himself. 

You moaned, your rhythm faltering as pleasure spiked through you. He pinched lightly, rolling the hardened peaks between his fingers, and your hips stuttered, grinding down harder against him.

"No," he corrected, his grip on your breast tightening just enough to make you gasp. "Don't change the pace. You can feel good and still follow instructions like a good doll."

You nodded, biting your lip, forcing your hips to return to that slow, rolling grind. He rewarded you by bowing forward, taking one of your nipples into his mouth. The wet heat of his tongue against the sensitive bud made you cry out, your fingers threading through his hair as he sucked and laved at your skin.

His hands never stopped moving. One stayed at your breast, kneading and squeezing, while the other slid down your side, gripping your ass to help guide your movements. His mouth switched to your other nipple, giving it the same attention, and you felt the coil tightening in your belly, hot and insistent.

"Euijoo…." you whimpered, your voice breaking.

"Not yet," he said, pulling back, his lips glistening. He looked up at you, his eyes sharp and focused. "I want you to cum with me. Can you do that, baby?" You nodded, desperate, willing to do anything he asked. "Then keep riding me. Just like this. Don't speed up."

The minutes stretched into an eternity of sensation—his hands on your breasts, pinching and teasing, the slow, torturous grind of your hips, the feeling of him buried so deep inside you that you couldn't tell where he ended and you began. The pleasure built in waves, each one higher than the last, until you were trembling on the edge, your breath coming in sobbing gasps.

"Now," he said, his voice strained, finally losing its composure. "Cum for me."

And you did. Your orgasm crashed through you, your back arching, a broken cry tearing from your throat as your walls clenched around him. He followed immediately, his hips bucking up into you as he spilled inside you, his groan low and guttural, his hands gripping your hips so hard you knew there would be bruises.

You collapsed forward, your forehead pressing against his, both of you breathing hard, sharing the same air. His hands softened, sliding up your back, holding you close as you trembled through the aftershocks.

Well there went another three days of losing all motor function in your legs.

And you were still going to ask him for another round.

_________________

It was almost funny how fast two months had passed by. 

Perhaps it felt like that because now, every other day you were being filled to the brim by either one of them or both of them at the same time. And to be honest, you were too thoroughly, blissfully fucked-out to even think about asking the infamous ‘what are we’ question. The answer, in every touch and whispered praise, felt obvious: you were theirs. Their perfect girl. 

The proof was in your grades. The final biology exam results had been posted, and you’d passed with flying colors, a crisp ‘A’ gleaming beside your student ID. The more surprising—or perhaps not surprising at all—revelation was that Euijoo and Jaeyun had also scored remarkably high. Jaeyun, who’d claimed to be “barely passing” before, had landed a solid A. Euijoo, predictably, had aced it with an A+. They’d celebrated your collective success that night in Euijoo’s room, their congratulations taking a deeply physical and profoundly satisfying form.

But that had been a week ago. A long, torturous, dry week.

How rude.

Since turning in their final projects, both of them had become suddenly, maddeningly busy with “end-of-semester logistics” for their frat. Brief, distracted texts, apologies muttered through yawns when you saw them in passing, a peck on the cheek that felt brotherly at this point—it was infuriating. The constant, humming attention you’d grown addicted to had vanished, leaving you twitchy and empty.

You were frustrated, more than frustrated—you were a live wire of neglected need. And tonight, they were throwing a party to mark the end of exams. Revenge, you decided, was a dish best served looking utterly devastating.

That was why you were standing in front of your full-length mirror, critically examining your reflection. The dress was baby pink, a shade so innocent it bordered on absurd. The fabric was soft and clingy in a way that left exactly nothing to the imagination. 

It was shockingly short, the hem brushing mid-thigh only if you stood perfectly still. The neckline was a deep, sweetheart cut that showcased the swell of your breasts, and the back? The back was practically non-existent, a few strings holding it together. You’d paired it with the highest, most precarious strappy heels you owned.

You looked like a confection, a delicious, bite-sized, walking sweet cherry pie.

A slow, determined smile spread across your lips. Let them be “busy.” Let them try to have a meeting, organize a party, do anything at all while you walked in looking like this. You knew their tells—the way Jaeyun’s jaw would tighten, the way Euijoo’s eyes would darken and track your every move like a predator. You were going to remind them exactly what they’d been neglecting. And you were going to make them beg to fix their mistake.

With a final, satisfied nod at your reflection, you grabbed your small clutch. The party was just starting and it was time to make an entrance.

______________

“You’re going to spill your drink.”

“I’m going to light this house on fire.”

The bass from the sound system pulsed through the floorboards of the frat house, a physical thrum in the air. The party was in full, chaotic swing—bodies packed tight, laughter spilling over the music, the sharp tang of cheap beer and sweat cutting through the usual scent of pine cleaner and boyish neglect.

You’d made your entrance. A ripple had gone through the crowd near the door when you walked in, a subtle shift in attention you felt like a physical touch. 

You’d caught sight of Jaeyun first, over by the keg, laughing with a couple of his brothers. His eyes had found you, and the laugh died on his lips. His gaze had traveled from your face, down the scandalous plunge of your neckline, over the sinful shortness of your skirt, all the way to your treacherous heels. His expression had shifted from surprise to something hot and intense, his grip tightening on his red plastic cup. 

Euijoo had been beside him, leaning against the wall, looking effortlessly cool in a black tee. His reaction was quieter, but no less potent. His eyes had narrowed, his head tilting slightly as he took you in, a slow, unreadable mask settling over his features. You’d given them a small, breezy smile—a mere flick of acknowledgment—and then deliberately turned away, melting into the crowd without a word.

That had been twenty minutes ago. Now, you were on the makeshift dance floor in the living room, the space cleared of furniture.

And you were dancing with Fuma, his hands respectfully placed on your waist as you moved to the beat. You were leaning in close to hear him over the music, laughing at something he said, your hand resting lightly on his shoulder. You knew exactly how you looked: the pink fabric clinging to every curve, the dim light catching the sheen of your skin, your head thrown back in a laugh that was just for him.

From across the room, near the archway to the kitchen, two pairs of eyes were burning holes into you.

“You’re going to spill your drink,” Euijoo said flatly, his voice barely audible over the music. He wasn’t looking at Jaeyun; his gaze was locked on the way Fuma’s thumb was stroking a tiny, infuriating circle on the bare skin of your waist.

Jaeyun didn’t even glance at his cup. His knuckles were white around it. “I’m going to light this house on fire.”

Euijoo finally tore his eyes away, cutting a sharp look at his friend. “She didn’t even say hello. Walked in here looking like…..like that,” he hissed, “and didn’t even come over.”

“She saw us,” Jaeyun growled. “She looked right at me and smiled like I was a fucking stranger.” 

He took a savage gulp of his beer, his eyes tracking your every move. The way your dress rode up when you swayed, the flash of your thigh, the way the neckline threatened to spill its contents with every bounce. He was so hard it was painful, a relentless ache that had started the second you walked in and was now a throbbing, jealous fury. 

It was Fuma. Fuma who had always been their anchor in a storm, older and widely respected in the frat, someone that the both of them leaned on when things got too hard. But right now? All that stuff was going down the drain just at the sight of him pressed so close to you. The memory of Fuma being the one to tell them about you first was also hurting like a bitch. 

Euijoo watched as you whispered something in Fuma’s ear, saw the other man’s smile widen, a possessive snarl threatened in Euijoo’s chest. That was his ear to whisper into. His girl to make smile like that. “She’s doing this on purpose.”

“No shit,” Jaeyun spat. “A week of nothing, and now this?” He gestured violently with his cup towards you. “This is a fucking declaration of war.”

They both watched, helpless and seething, as Fuma leaned down to say something else, his lips too close to your hair. Your resulting laugh was bright and clear, a sound that used to be reserved for them in the quiet of a dorm room.

Euijoo’s jaw was clenched so tight it ached. The sight of you in that dress, on another man’s arm, moving with a confidence they’d coaxed out of you themselves…it was the most potent aphrodisiac and the most bitter poison he’d ever tasted. He wanted to tear you away from Fuma, throw you over his shoulder and carry you upstairs. He wanted to ruin you in that dress, mark every inch of skin it revealed so everyone would know exactly who you belonged to.

“She wants a reaction,” Euijoo said, his voice low and deadly calm.

Jaeyun’s smile was all sharp edges. “Oh, she’s gonna get one.”

___________

Any protest you might have mustered died in your throat, swallowed by the heady thrill of their focused, furious energy. They’d descended on you and Fuma like a pair of storms, their polite-but-icy smiles belying the fire in their eyes. 

A few terse words to a bewildered Fuma, a “she’s with us” that brooked no argument, and you were extracted from the dance floor and ushered through the chaotic party, up to the familiar sanctuary of their room.

The door clicked shut, sealing you in the sudden, profound quiet. The only sound was the ragged pull of three sets of lungs.

Now, you sat perched on the edge of Euijoo’s neatly made bed, your arms crossed tightly over your chest, doing your best impression of indifference. Your lower lip was pushed out in a defiant pout, your eyes wide and attempting to project wounded innocence, though the fire in them probably betrayed you. Your dress which had felt like armour downstairs, now felt flimsy and exposing under the twin spotlights of their gaze. 

Jaeyun and Euijoo stood side-by-side at the foot of the bed, a study in contrasting, coiled tension. Jaeyun’s earlier rage had condensed into a smoldering intensity, his eyes dark and hungry as they raked over you. Euijoo was deceptively still, his expression unreadable, but the air around him crackled with possessive intent.

For a long moment, they just looked at you, their gazes traveling over your defiant posture, the exposed length of your legs, the rise and fall of your chest.

“Well,” Jaeyun drawled, "Look who decided to join the party.” His voice was a low, rough scrape that sent a shiver straight down your spine. “And dressed for the occasion too.”

Euijoo’s lips quirked in a ghost of a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Such sudden bravery, doll,” he murmured, taking a slow step closer. His gaze lingered on the desperate clutch of your arms over your chest, on the way the dress’s neckline strained with the motion. “Parading yourself downstairs, letting just anyone put their hands on you.” He tsked softly, “Real bold, sweetheart.”

Jaeyun’s smile was wolfish. He took a step closer, his eyes tracing the neckline of your dress. “You knew exactly what you were doing in that dress, didn’t you honey?”

You lifted your chin, refusing to answer, but a flush crept up your neck. Fuck why did they have to look like five course meals?

“Of course she did,” Euijoo answered for you, his tone almost conversational. He took a step to match Jaeyun, closing the distance. “Bet you wanted every man in that room to look at you didn’t you, pretty girl?” His voice dropped, filling with a raw, appreciative hunger. “But you know who you belong to hmm?” The praise, wrapped in sheer possessiveness, made your traitorous body hum.

You swallowed, the defiance in your posture softening into something more pliant under the heat of their combined stares. “I… I was just—”

“Just what, honey?" Jaeyun cut in, his voice deceptively soft. He was close enough now that you could smell the clean scent of his soap and the faint, lingering hint of beer. “Just reminding us what we’ve been missing?” He reached out, a single finger tracing the fluttering pulse at the base of your throat. “Trust me. We didn’t need a reminder. We’ve been thinking about you every damn second.”

Euijoo’s hand joined Jaeyun’s, his fingers gently but firmly prying one of your arms away from your chest. He laced his fingers with yours, pulling your hand down to rest on the rumpled duvet. The implication was clear, and a fresh wave of liquid heat pooled low in your belly. Your pout was gone, replaced by parted lips and breath that was coming a little too fast.

Jaeyun watched the transformation, a dark satisfaction in his eyes. “Since you were so…..creative with your little display tonight,” he said, his thumb stroking your captive hand, “we thought we’d get a little creative too.”

Euijoo’s free hand went to the pocket of his dark jeans. He pulled out a rectangular box, wrapped in simple matte black paper. “A little gift,” he said, his voice a low murmur. “From both of us.”

Your eyes widened, flicking between the box and his face. A gift? Now?

Agonizingly slowly, he unwrapped it, letting the paper fall to the floor. Nestled inside against a bed of black velvet was a vibrator. It was sleek, elegant and a soft, shimmering shade of pink that somehow perfectly matched your dress.

“Saw it last week,” Jaeyun explained, his gaze fixed on your reaction as he began to unbutton his own shirt, his movements lazy and deliberate, “Thought you’d like it, our little slut.”

Euijoo picked it up, his fingers curling around it familiarly. With a soft click, it hummed to life, a low, steady buzz that seemed to vibrate in the very air of the room. He held it up, the pink silicone catching the dim light. “Pretty, isn’t it?” he mused. “Just like you.”

As the persistent hum filled the silence, Jaeyun finally closed the last of the distance. He leaned over you, caging you against the headboard, and captured your mouth in a deep, claiming kiss. It was all tongue and teeth and a week’s worth of pent-up frustration, and you melted into it with a helpless whimper. His hands went to your dress, sliding it down your body.

“Let’s get you out of this, honey,” he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with desire. “We’ve admired it long enough.”

Euijoo had you spread out on his bed in a matter of seconds, the vibrator humming against his palm as he watched you squirm around. God how horny was your brain? To not even have noticed the way they were handling you between them like a toy. 

"Look at you," he murmured, running the buzzing tip along your inner thigh, avoiding where you needed it most. "So needy already. And we've barely started."

You whimpered, your hips twitching, trying to chase the sensation. He clicked his tongue, pressing the vibrator flat against your thigh, holding it there until you stilled.

"No." He said, his voice patient but firm. "You don't get to decide when you feel good. I do."

He finally pressed the head of the vibrator against your clit, and you gasped, your back arching off the mattress. The sensation was sharp and immediate, pleasure flooding through you in waves. But just as you felt the familiar tightening in your belly, he pulled it away.

"No!" you whined, the sound pitiful and desperate, “Euijoooo….”

"Shhh," he soothed, trailing the toy down your stomach, over your hip, circling your navel. "You'll get there, doll. But not yet."

He did it again and again and again—pressing the vibrator against your clit, letting the pleasure build until you were teetering on the edge, then pulling it away. Each time, your body would shudder, your breath hitching, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

"Please," you begged, your voice breaking.

"Please what, doll?" He tilted his head, feigning ignorance. "Please let you cum? But you haven't earned it yet, have you?”

Your hands fisted in the sheets, your hips grinding against nothing. The room was filled with the wet sound of your arousal and the low hum of the vibrator, and you felt completely at his mercy.

After what felt like an eternity of teasing, Euijoo finally set the vibrator aside. He gripped your hips, pulling you toward him until you were sitting up, and then guided you onto his lap at the edge of the bed. His cock was hard beneath you, pressed against your ass, but he made no move to enter you.

"Good girl," he murmured, his hands settling on your waist. "Now stay."

You heard movement, and then Jaeyun was there, dropping to his knees in front of you. He looked up at you with that hungry, worshipful expression, his hands sliding up your thighs, pushing them apart.

"Jaeyun's going to make you feel good," Euijoo said against your ear, his breath warm. "And this time, you're going to let go. You're going to cum all over his face. Understand?" You nodded, your throat (and pussy) tight.

Jaeyun leaned in, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh, then the other. His tongue traced a slow path upward, and when he finally reached your folds, you cried out, your hips bucking forward. He didn't waste time—his tongue lapped at you, broad and flat, then focused on your clit, flicking and circling with practiced precision.

"Oh, god…." you gasped, your hands flying to his hair, gripping the strands, “Jaeyun! Fuck ohhhh…” Fuck it was like he’d mastered the art of female oral pleasure for centuries—the way he was eating you like a starved god. 

Behind you, Euijoo’s hands roamed your body, pinching your nipples, sliding down your stomach, gripping your hips to hold you steady. "That's it, doll. Let him eat you—bet you taste soooo good for him, don't you?"

Jaeyun moaned against you, the vibration sending sparks through your core. He devoured you, his tongue sliding inside you, then back to your clit, alternating between sucking and licking until you were a trembling mess.

The pleasure built faster this time, without the torturous pauses, but it was overwhelming, too much and not enough. You felt the pressure mounting, coiling tight in your lower belly, and you knew this time it would be different.

"Ju…" you sobbed, "Ju, I'm—I'm going to—"

"Let go," he commanded, his voice low and rough. "Cum for him, doll. Let it all go."

And you did. Your orgasm crashed through you like a wave, your body arching, a guttural cry tearing from your throat. But it didn't stop—it kept building, pushing past the peak, and you felt the release of something more, a hot gush of liquid that spilled from you as you shuddered and moaned.

Jaeyun didn't pull away. He drank it all, his tongue working through your climax, lapping at you as you squirted over his chin, his lips, his tongue. Your thighs clamped around his head, but he didn't stop, coaxing every last drop from you until you were limp, gasping, your body trembling uncontrollably.

Euijoo’s arms wrapped around you, holding you against his chest, pressing kisses to your shoulder. "Such a good girl," he whispered. "You did so well."

Jaeyun finally pulled back, his face glistening, a satisfied smirk on his lips. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, but his eyes never left yours.

“So fucking sweet, pretty girl." He said, his voice husky, “Sweet like honey, yeah?”

You were too spent to respond, your head falling back against Euijoo’s shoulder, your body humming with aftershocks. They held you between them, warm and possessive, and for a long moment, the only sound was your ragged breathing and the soft hum of the vibrator Euijoo had discarded on the bed.

You heard the rustle of fabric, then felt his hands on your ass cheeks, spreading them wide, cool air kissing your exposed holes. 

“Round two, pretty girl?” 

The words were fleeting in your ears, neither of them had the patience to wait for your answer. You asked yourself that question again: just how orgasm-drunk were you that you didn’t even protest the change in position? It was a matter of minutes before you found yourself in the position you were in. 

Did you really give a fuck? Nope—all you wanted was for your wet little pussy to be filled by her usual favourites. 

The bed creaked beneath you as Euijoo positioned himself behind you, his hands gripping your hips while you hovered over Jaeyun’s cock. Your thighs trembled, slick and ready, as Jaeyun’s hands found your waist, guiding you down.

"That's it, honey," Jaeyun breathed, his eyes locked on yours as you sank onto him, inch by inch. "Taking me so well."

A choked gasp escaped your lips as he filled you completely, the sensation spreading through your core, stretching you in a way that made your vision blur. Before you could adjust, Euijoo’s hands spread your cheeks, and you felt the blunt pressure of his cock pressing against your ass.

"You think you can take us both, doll?" His voice was low, dripping with challenge. "Or are you going to break on us?" You nodded, words failing you, your fingers digging into Jaeyun’s shoulders for support.

"Use your words," Euijoo said, slapping your ass hard enough to make you jolt. "I want to hear you say it."

"Yes," you gasped, your voice cracking. "Please, I can—I can take it."

Euijoo pushed in slowly, the pressure building until it became a dull, overwhelming ache, then a sharp fullness that made you cry out. Your body clenched around both of them, the dual intrusion too much and exactly what you needed.

"Fuckkkkk" Jaeyun groaned beneath you, his head falling back. "She's so fucking—hah—tight. Squeezing me like she's trying to milk me dry, yeah?”

"Because she's such a desperate little slut," Euijoo said, his voice softening into something almost affectionate, wildly in contrast to his words. "Aren't you, honey? Can't get enough of us filling you up."

You whimpered, your hips starting to move on instinct, rocking back against Euijoo while grinding down on Jaeyun. The rhythm came naturally, the three of you finding a pace that had your breath hitching and your body shaking.

Euijoo’s thrusts were so damn deep, each one hitting that spot inside you that made your toes curl. Jaeyun met your movements from below, his hands gripping your waist, his hips snapping up to meet yours. They set a punishing rhythm, alternating their thrusts so that one was always filling you while the other pulled back, a mean oscillation. 

"Look at her…." Euijoo said, his hand tangling in your hair, pulling your head back. "Riding you like a good girl, taking my cock in her ass like she was made for it."

"Made for us," Jaeyun corrected, his voice strained, his eyes burning into yours. "Perfect little cocksleeve for both of us."

The pleasure built, coiling low in your belly, your moans turning into broken sobs as they fucked you from both ends. Every nerve in your body was alight, the sensation overwhelming, consuming.

"Please," you begged, not knowing what you were asking for. "Please, I'm—I'm going to—"

"Not yet," Euijoo said, slowing his thrusts, denying you the friction you craved. "You don't cum until we say you can."

Jaeyun followed his lead, stilling beneath you, leaving you suspended on the edge. A frustrated whine tore from your throat, your hips grinding uselessly against them.

"Please," you tried again, tears pricking at your eyes. "Please, I need—"

"I know what you need, doll." Euijoo’s voice was softer now, almost gentle. "You need to be good for us first. Can you do that? Be our good girl?" You nodded frantically, desperation clawing at your chest.

"Then cum for us," Jaeyun said, his hands sliding up your sides, cupping your breasts, thumbing your nipples. "Let go, honey. Let us feel you."

They started moving again, faster now, harder, driving into you with a relentless pace that had you seeing stars. The pleasure hit you like a wave, crashing over you as your first orgasm tore through your body. You cried out, your back arching, your walls clenching around them.

"Fuck, yes….." Euijoo groaned, his thrusts growing erratic. "That's it pretty girl, oh fuckkk squeezing me so good fuck…”

But they didn't stop. They kept fucking you through your climax, the overstimulation pushing you higher, building toward something even more intense.

"One more," Jaeyun commanded, his voice rough, breathless. "Give us one more, baby. I know you can."

"Please nghhh—I can’t " you sobbed, your body trembling, every nerve on fire. "I can't—"

"You can.” Euijoo said, his hand sliding down your stomach, his fingers finding your clit. "And you will."

He pressed down, circling the sensitive nub as they fucked you, and the second orgasm hit you before you could brace yourself. It ripped through you, harder and deeper than the first, your vision going white as you screamed, your body convulsing around them.

"Fuck—" Jaeyun's voice cracked as he came, his hips bucking, his cum flooding you. Euijoo followed a moment later, a guttural groan escaping his lips as he spilled inside your ass, his grip on your hips bruising.

The three of you collapsed together, tangled and breathless, your bodies slick with sweat and cum. Euijoo pulled out slowly, kissing your shoulder, while Jaeyun traced lazy patterns on your thighs.

"So fucking perfect," Jaeyun murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction.

"You did so well, doll." Euijoo added, his hand carding through your hair. 

You couldn't respond, your body humming with aftershocks, your mind blissfully blank. They held you between them, warm and possessive, and for a long moment, the only sound was your ragged breathing and the steady beat of their hearts against your skin.

Somewhere between the border of sleep (“Is she sleeping?” “Should we change her clothes or..?”), you had a fleeting thought. 

You were happy. Really happy.

Because somewhere along the way, the fear disappeared entirely—you stopped overthinking every text before sending it, stopped panicking when they touched your shoulder casually or leaned too close over your notes, stopped feeling like the quiet girl hidden in the second row of lectures. Somehow, without you noticing, the lonely little world you’d built around yourself had cracked open.

And standing in the middle of it were two boys who brought you coffee, listened to your rambling biology explanations, made you laugh when you forgot how, and looked at you like you were someone worth knowing. And fucked you crazy stupid too of course. 

The months you thought would destroy you had ended up changing your life instead. 

Funny how that worked.

Cause fuck were you into it.

fin. 

A/N: this is one of those fics where i genuinely felt myself lock in HARD and lowkey felt much melancholy when i finished it like this fic is my child ykwim. Never in my life did i think I'd ever write four smut scenes in one singular fic but hey my biases made me do it yay. Shoutout to Jaeyun and Euijoo edits for getting me through the hell of writing threesomes i will now go be their fucktoy byeee

divider by @honeyluvsw

You looked so peaceful on the couch, sleeping soundly. Nico quietly stepped out of his shoes and put his things away, careful not to wake you. All the while, your boyfriend was eyeing you.

Dressed in a sheer tee and panties in an attempt to stay cool, you looked mouth-watering. Nico crept closer, remembering the conversation you and he had where you gave him permission to touch you in your sleep.

Nico watched your face when he lowered to the couch, fully expecting you to wake up when he carefully slipped your panties off.

"I don't know. It turns me on, you fucking me awake," you'd told him before, and Nico had gotten so hard he couldn't see straight.

It just meant you trusted him deeply with your body. And Nico got off to that. The connection he had with you was indescribable. Your total surrender, only getting pleasure from him.

Nico's hands gently traced up your body, under your tee, which was sticking to you slightly because of the light sheen of sweat on your skin. He gingerly pulled it over your head and dropped it to the floor, situating himself between your legs.

To Nico's surprise, you still didn't wake when he palmed your sex. He started to debate if fingers in your cunt might pull you out of sleep and selfishly, Nico wanted only to wake you with his cock.

Slicking his length with his saliva, which was already painfully hard in his hand from seeing you pliant beneath him, Nico fitted his cock into your entrance and pushed in, inch-by-inch, feeling your velvet walls give way.

You still didn't move, which both annoyed and relieved Nico. On the one hand, he thought penetrating you would wake you right up, having to stretch to accomodate him. On the other, you staying asleep meant he got to use you exactly as you had asked him to.

Nico propped up on his hands and knees, and eased his cock back and forth in your perfect pussy. Your bodies touched only where he gloved his dick in you. A groan escaped him, then another; Nico knew he wasn't going to last long.

And given you were asleep, he didn't have to worry about how fast he was finishing.

There was a little wet slap every time he thrust, making Nico shake his head that you could still get so wet for him even while you slept. He watched your breasts bounce with his movements and he hissed, "You don't even know how perfect you are."

Nico sped up, grasping your hips and emptying himself inside you, his sounds of pleasure filling the room. Nico's eyes lolled and he blinked to clear his vision, shaking his head. His hair was damp with sweat and the fan made the drops cool on his skin.

Looking down at you, sleeping soundly with a belly full of cum, made Nico decide he was staying right there, his cock still between your folds. He lowered down, pressing a soft kiss on your chest before laying his head in the crook of your neck.

You don't remember what you were dreaming about, only that you felt warm and safe. And full. A little tension stitched your brows.

Nico kept kissing at your neck, the wet pop reaching your ears. Your legs shifted, rubbing against his hips. Nico felt his cock getting hard inside you again (not that he'd gone totally soft while your pussy warmed him), and he thrust forward gently, reflexive to your walls clenching on him.

"Nico," you sighed, slowly waking. Your hands instinctively went to his waist and your eyes opened, a kiss landing on your lips the moment your gazes met.

Nico kissed you with hot intent, slipping his tongue into your mouth as he stroked his cock back and forth in your cunt, biting his lip when you moaned.

"Hear that?" Nico asked, referring to the very wet pop when he bottomed out.

You met his eyes and nodded.

"You're already full of cum, baby."

Arousal flushed through your body and you tightened your thighs on his waist, drawing him into you. Your voice was weak when you asked, "You fucked me and came in me already?"

Nico smirked darkly. "Mmhm."

"How was it?"

"I didn't last long," Nico said with a little chuckle, still arching his hips into you.

You smiled bashfully, earning yourself another kiss. Settling deeper into the couch, you draped your legs on Nico's hips, held onto his arms, and lost yourself in his eyes as he fucked you.

Nico couldn't pull his gaze from you. He eased himself back and forth in your wet, warm pussy, eagerly sucking him back in. Your body was so in love with him and Nico was obsessed with you.

Little nothings spilled from your lips and you bit down to fight them. Nico was so hard and deep, you could feel him in the pit of your stomach. Already being slick with his load turned you on, along with the image of him using you like a vessel for his pleasure.

"You're so fucking beautiful," Nico groaned, tracing his thumb over your bottom lip, freeing it from your teeth. "Just wanna fuck you for hours. Feel that pussy come on me."

"Do it," you sighed, winding your fingers into his sweaty hair and tugging. "Make me feel you for days."

"Fuck," Nico swore, crashing his lips on yours and kissing you hungrily. The lewd wet squelch when he bottomed out made his cock twitch and he shoved in harder, making you arch up into him.

Curious, you peered up into his dark eyes and asked, "Did you stay in me after you came?"

Nico smirked a little. "Yeah. Filled you up, stayed in, and kept pumping balls deep in you."

"Oh god..."

"Tight fucking pussy didn't let me get soft," Nico whispered hotly, his thrusts coming faster, his hand brushing up your body to palm your breast. "Just wanted to milk more cum outta me, huh?"

You nodded, his words and his voice making your cunt clench on him. Your toes were already curling. Orgasm was on the tip of your tongue.

In the next second, Nico's hand left your breast to wrap around your throat and squeeze. He smacked his hips into yours, driving into you with the intent of finishing you off, and his lips ghosted over yours when he said, "Come for me. Now. Don't make me say it again."

You were sore from his big cock stretching you out, stuffing you full over and over, that you felt like a nerve laid bare, all the stimulation hitting you at once. You felt the pleasure of him deep in your belly hitting the spot just right and at his command you came, your cries cut off by the hand around your throat.

"Good girl," Nico sighed, working you through the orgasm at his steady pace, grunting at the pulsing of your sex on his dick.

If two people were meant to be tangled together, Nico knew in his soul it was you and him.

After hitting the peak, your body shook from the euphoria, your eyes lolling into your head. You realized too late that you'd found purchase in Nico's back, your nails digging into his skin. Nico, of course, was delighted. He lived for the marks you left behind in his flesh; a reminder that he'd buried his cock inside you.

Nico groaned and licked his lips to wet them, kissing you as he kept colliding his hips into yours, your little noises filling his mouth. "I know, baby," he said, loving your whimpers. "Just a little more."

You were right at your limit. Your cunt was sore in the best way, but Nico's stiff cock kept sheathing inside you. If he had his way, he'd keep easing his dick in and out of your pussy until one of you tapped out.

"Please, come," you begged him in a faint whisper.

Nico assessed you a moment, watching your pretty face tense when he thrust in, then your breasts bouncing with his movements. He didn't want it to end, but your body was screaming for a reprieve. Nico grabbed your hands and pinned them above your head, and started to fuck you at a relentless pace.

"Take it, baby." His voice was a growl, almost drowned out by your moans and whines. "Almost there. Fucking shit. You're gonna take all of it."

You cried out when his cock kissed your cervix and with another stroke Nico came with a loud groan, painting your walls with another load. You watched his eyes go hazy, his lips parted, his arms shaking as he gripped your hands tighter, the pleasure tearing through his body.

"Fuck," Nico chanted, trying to catch his breath and failing. He was panting. He stayed painfully still, his cock taking its sweet time going soft in you, but once it did, he pulled out and fell back onto the other side of the sofa.

It caught you off-guard; how empty you felt with him no longer filling you, but then you were distracted by his cum slipping out and you quickly rolled to your side and closed your legs.

Nico was there in a flash, steering you onto your back again and, holding your legs together, bent toward your body. "Keep it all in," he whispered darkly.

You let him do as he pleased, because the man had tapped into everyone of your kinks, and all he did was turn you on so bad you couldn't think straight.

Nico couldn't help himself; he cupped your sex, teasing his fingers through your folds and moved your ankles to be on his shoulders just as he locked eyes with you.

You made a little noise and Nico couldn't decipher it so he asked, "Sore?"

You nodded.

"How sore?"

"If you put your dick in me again right now I'd probably die," you quipped.

Nico chuckled. "Lucky for you, my balls are empty at the moment. Thanks to you."

You bit your lip, staring at his handsome face damp with sweat and flushed with heat, and thinking, This sexy motherfucker...

Nico cocked his head and asked, "If you're so sore, why are you looking at me like that?"

"I can't help it."

Two fingers slowly pressed into your swollen cunt and you gripped the sofa in your fists, crying out his name in a mix of surprise and fuck, how could it hurt so good?