We’re having a retrial ⚖️

That small taunt, though it came from a place of pure adoration of your dumb self, felt so awakening and humiliating that it was enough to make you clench around his thick shaft, stuffed snug and belonging in your sticky hole, your arousal leaking down your damp thighs like honey.

"Hmp- mhh… Hyune, H-Hyunjin…" You could only pathetically whine as your eyes closed by pure reflection from how hard they were stinging, hot tears refusing to stop pouring down, you push your pelvis back into his despite your trembling legs, rolling your hips dumbly on top of his lap as he held your neck pretty and stiff in a tight headlock.

His big, angry cock pumping in and out of your messy warmth at a disgusting pace was all that you could hear, if it wasn't for the vulnerable position he kept you in, you're sure that your body would be trashing at all kind of angles from his rapid movements which somehow only felt faster as you came around his length again and again. Forced to sit there shaking on top of his strong body, pressed hard against the voluminous mass of his chest and convulsing against his torso as your back involuntarily bent into another painful arch from overstimulation, drooling all over your chin and his forearms until it's reaching your boobs — a mess, just the way he liked you.

Hyunjin's built muscles flexed against your neck again, he could feel every pulse and gag of your throat, you could hear his airy giggle whenever it matched the flutter of your abused walls, rewarding your slutty tendencies with a tighter hold of your breathing, just enough to make you struggle a little bit.

"You love it, don't you, doll? When… hmp- When I hold you like this?" he bits your earlobe and the disaster you had going on in your throat only worsened, choking on your own drool, stuck in a incoherent mess as Hyunjin left you cock-drunk and whining. His forearm pressed against your pulse one more time, you gasped as your eyes rolled to the back of your head and words just spurted out of your mouth with no business of making any sense.

"Lo-Love you… I love you, Hyune… mhp, mhhh- Love you, Hyunjin…" You tried sucking in more air, your brain begging for some sort of oxygen that lasted for more than one or two of your loud moans and never ending whining. Satisfied with your answer, he presses his arm just right to push your head back on his shoulder, hips never slowing down their pace at ruining your creamy warmth as his palm brushes against your puffy clit with every stroke, he kisses your cheek gently then. A mean reminder of how carefully he can love you when you behave.

The way his big body could cover yours with no issue whatsoever was doing wonders to making you dizzy with desire, fluttering in the way he held you as if it wasn't hard at all because for him, it really wasn't.

He could always make you feel so deliciously small, sat pretty and destroyed at his lap which was completely damp from your juices, his leaking length only filling you deeper, fingers teasing and prodding on that spot in your clit just right to make your head spin, keeping you basically bouncing on his lap from his hard thrusts.

His gasps and groans alongside the sounds wet splashes of skin slapping were reminding you of the most beautiful melody you've ever heard, slamming into your weeping womanhood while you trembled like a weak little thing, walls flexing roughly around his rough ministrations, you were almost there, could feel the relief you needed so badly at the tip of your fingertips, just out of reach.

Your nails clawed helplessly at the damp skin of his forearms, holding onto a small hope that he'd be done soon to convince yourself of not turning your head to the right and biting onto the beefy, delicious meat of his bicep. An uselessly broken sound rips from your throat and he catches it at the perfect time, swallowing your whimpers with a messy kiss full of teeth and tongue.

Every time he pressed onto that gummy spot, you felt like crying even harder, body convulsing harshly against his like you were being electrocuted by an entire thunderstorm and he didn't flinch even once. Used to the way his little toy moves around beneath his power, kissing the side of your face every time you gasped for air, smiled at your cheek every time he could hear every bit of your sweet struggle.

Finally, you came again, thighs shaking aggressively and quickly betraying the tears streaming down your face with a loud show of just how much you truly loved his brutal demonstrations of love, you can slowly but surely feel all of that ugly, persistent tension leave your frail body.

That's when you hear it.

"Want me to stop, baby? Wanna cum again?" Hyunjin's voice in your head — all too warm, dripping with the thinnest of sugars.

Chan is inbetween your spread legs, one hand gripping your hip, the other guiding himself into you with a low groan. “Fuck,” he mutters, sliding in deep, and you gasp, head tipping back against Hyunjin’s chest.

Chan’s fingers tighten on your hip, pulling you down onto him, and you choke out a moan as he starts moving, slow at first, then deeper, rougher. “You take it so well,” Hyunjin murmurs in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. His thumbs circle your nipples, teasing them into stiff peaks before pinching just hard enough to make you whimper.

Hyunjin’s hand drifts lower, fingertips tracing circles over your stomach before dipping between your legs. His touch is light, teasing, just barely brushing your clit until you jerk against him with a sharp gasp. “Oh my- Fuckk” you whine, hips bucking involuntarily, but Chan’s grip tightens on your waist, holding you steady as he thrusts deeper, dragging a ragged moan from your throat.

Chan’s hands slide up your body, fingers tracing the curve of your throat before settling there, pressing justtt hard enough to make your breath hitch. His grip tightens as he fucks into you harder, his hips snapping forward in a rhythm that has your vision blurring.

Hyunjin’s fingers circle your clit faster, the pressure building until you’re writhing between them, gasping for air that won’t come.

“Please-” you manage, voice ragged, but Chan just shakes his head, “You can take it,” he murmurs, his own breath uneven. “Just a little longer.” His thrusts stutter, deeper now, and you choke on a moan, nails digging into Hyunjin’s thigh.

Hyunjin exhales sharply against your ear, “So fucking pretty like this,” he murmurs, voice full of admiration. His palm slides up your chest, tracing the curve of your breast before cradling your jaw, tilting your face toward his. “so perfect,” he breathes, and then his mouth is on yours, tongue sliding against yours in a slow, filthy drag. You moan into the kiss, the sound swallowed by his lips, as Chan’s hips snap forward, filling you so deep your toes curl.

Hyunjin breaks the kiss just enough to pant against your lips, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “Love hearing you,” he says, “Love feeling you shake.” His hand drops back to your breast, squeezing just shy of too hard, and you arch into it with a gasp, your hips rocking back against Chan’s thrusts.

“I can’t- I can’t take it,” you gasp, voice cracking, your body strung tight between them. “Please, please let me-”

Chan’s grip on your throat eases just enough for you to drag in a shuddering breath. His hips slow, grinding deep inside you instead of pulling out, his cock twitching where he’s buried to the hilt. “You wanna cum?” he murmurs. His other hand slides down your body, fingertips tracing the sweat-slick curve of your waist before settling between your legs, pressing hard against Hyunjin’s fingers still circling your clit. “You wanna come on my cock while he plays with you?”

You whimper, your whole body trembling, the words catching in your throat. “Yes or no, baby,” Chan asks, his hips rocking forward, the drag of his cock inside you slow, maddening. His breath hitches when you clench around him, your thighs shaking. “you're gonna have to say it.”

You sob, your hips bucking uselessly between them, oversensitive,“Yes- yes, please,” you gasp, the words slurred, your voice breaking. “Please let me cum, please-”

Chan’s grip tightens on your throat just enough to cut off your next whimper, his hips snapping forward in one sharp, brutal thrust. “Then cum, baby” he says, and that’s all it takes- your body seizes, pleasure ripping through you so hard your vision whites out.

his rhythm stutters, his hips grinding deep as he groans, his cock pulsing inside you. You feel him cum, the hot spill of it, the way his fingers dig into your hip hard enough to bruise.

Hyunjin’s hand leaves your breast, sliding down to press against your stomach, right where Chan’s cock is buried inside you, and you sob at the pressure, oversensitive, “Fuck,” Chan breathes, his voice thick, his forehead dropping to your shoulder as he rides out his orgasm, his thrusts slowing to lazy, rolling grinds.

Hyunjin’s fingers curl into your hair, tilting your head back against his chest as he murmurs, “Good girl,” against your temple, his lips brushing your skin. His other hand still works your clit, slow now, drawing out the last waves of your orgasm until you’re squirming.

Before you can catch your breath, Chan’s hands are on your hips again, flipping you over with a rough, effortless tug. The sheets scrape against your stomach as he maneuvers you onto your knees.

Your face lands inches from Hyunjin’s cock, the heat of it against your cheek. You don’t hesitate- your mouth opens, tongue dragging along the underside before taking him in. Hyunjin groans, his fingers tangling in your hair, guiding you deeper. Chan’s cock slides back into you from behind, just as a new song plays.

a/n: gov ball hyunchan made me do it now you guys deal with the aftermath #thankyouforcumming

it’s christmas morning, and the dorm feels warmer and livelier than it usually does. maybe it’s because all eight boys are here and piled into the living room, blankets everywhere, holiday music playing too loud, and a lot of gifts surrounding all of you. you drop down between them, still half-asleep, and someone immediately hands you a mug of hot chocolate.

“merry christmas”, chan says, his dimples showing, his hair a mess. 

the others echo him in different versions - deeper voices, half-mumbled voices, excited ones. you all open your gifts together, taking turns, teasing each other, laughing when hyunjin dramatically gasps over his gift like it’s the end of the world. 

minho pretends he doesn’t like the cat-themed socks you got him, but he doesn’t let anyone else touch them. seungmin sits close enough that your knees bump every time he shifts. felix keeps smiling at you every time you unwrap something, like he’s waiting for your reaction. 

it’s easy, comfortable. soft laughter, jokes here and then and eight pairs of eyes that linger on you a little longer than normal. you feel it. the unspoken thing. the aware thing. the thing you’ve all been dancing around for months.

when the last gift is opened, everyone relaxes, sitting back, just enjoying the christmas morning and seeing everyone’s gifts. when the room turns into a gentle space, you slip away with a quiet “i’ll be right back” that no one questions, they just watch you go.

you close your bedroom door behind you and take a breath, letting the silence settle. then, you reach under your bed and pull out the small box you hid there a week ago. the last gift - not exactly for you only, it’s for them too, or at least for the one that gets to take it off of you.

the set is lace, delicate, detailed, undeniably meant for being seen, admired, desired. you run your fingers over it, nerves fluttering in your stomach, excitement warming your skin. you already had a taste of this some time ago, but you need more. you need all of them. just like they need you. 

when you put it on, the air in the room changes. the lace settles against your skin like it was made only for you, soft and delicate in a way that makes you shiver when you adjust the straps. you take a slow breath and move to the mirror, the reflection hitting you all at once.

the set hugs every curve, tracing the lines of your body with thin, teasing patterns that leave just enough to the imagination. the colour warms your skin, makes your figure look softer in some places, sharper in others. 

you look… unreal.

not the idol version of yourself, not the “ninth member” everyone sees on stage, but the version of you that’s been simmering quietly underneath, waiting for the right moment to step forward. confident. irresistible. someone who knows exactly what she’s offering and exactly how much they’re going to want it. 

heat blooms in your chest as you take yourself in. you feel powerful and undeniably desired, even before any of the boys has seen you.

you smooth the lace one more time and open your door.

the moment you walk into the living room and they look up, the atmosphere shifts. eight heads turn at once. eight mouths fall open, like the words they need simply won’t come out. their eyes widen, soft gasps break the quiet, and suddenly the room is still, completely, utterly still.

changbin actually forgets how to blink. chan sits up straighter. felix’s freckles seem to darken as his face goes red. seungmin swallows hard enough that you hear it. you don’t know which reaction turns you on more.

you walk forward slowly, each step deliberate. every pair of eyes follows you like they’re caught, like it’s the only thing they can do.

“so”, you say, your voice steady and confident, “are you ready for your next gift?”

none of them answer. they can’t. they just stare, completely undone, as you bite your lip. you can’t lie and say you’re not enjoying the effect you have on them.

“use that damn wheel to decide the order”, you say, amusement threading through your voice, “you already know what we’re gonna do”

you let the words hang in the air, thick with meaning, and then, you turn around, walk back to your bedroom, and close the door behind you. you sit on the edge of the bed, then lie back slowly, sinking into the pillows, your heart beating in a steady, excited rhythm.

you lie there, waiting for whichever one of them the wheel chooses first. you let your fingers rest lightly on your stomach, following the lace’s outline as your thoughts drift, uninvited, to the last time you all played this game. 

the memory settles over you slowly, warm and breathless. the way they looked at you that night comes back vividly. the hesitation, the tension. you remember the way they hovered close during each of their turns with you, their voices dropping, their eyes flicking to you like they couldn’t help themselves. the way your name sounded when spoken from different mouths, different tones. the way all of them teased you, the way all of them made you come again and again.

that same feeling stirs now as you feel yourself getting wet, a quiet anticipation that settles low and warm, buzzing under your skin. last time was completely new, this time you know what you’re playing with, or at least you think you do.

and you don’t know if that’s a good thing or not. 

the anticipation pushes you upright before you realise you’re moving. you stand and walk towards the mirror, drawn to your own reflection. you tilt your head, checking the angle, the lines, the way your hair falls over your shoulders. your heartbeat ticks louder at the sight of yourself, at the knowledge of what’s coming.

and that’s when you hear it, the soft click of your door unlocking.

you turn just as it opens. hyunjin steps inside and the door clicks shut behind him. his eyes are fixed on you immediately, like he can’t look anywhere else even if he tries. just like the last time, he’s wearing nothing but his boxers. his hair is slightly messy and his breath unsteady like he ran here the second the wheel stopped.

you smile, slow and knowing, letting your fingers rest on your hip, accentuating the lace. 

“hi”, you say, your voice soft but unmistakably teasing.

his eyes flick up to yours, dark, warm, hungry, already undone. 

“you’re… you’re kidding”, he says, taking a step closer to you without realising it, “you look even better than last time, i-”, he cuts himself off, his jaw flexing, his breath catching as he takes in the full view, closer this time.

you take a single step towards him, stopping just close enough for him to feel the heat of your body.

“i see the wheel picked you first again, hyunjin”, you say, tilting your head. 

he lets out a quiet, shaky laugh, rubbing his palm against the back of his neck. 

“yeah, i didn’t even wait for the others to react. i just-”, his eyes trail down and back up, slow, “you look unreal, y/n. seriously. i don’t… i don’t even know where to look”

you raise a brow, amused, “everywhere is an option”

he swallows hard, audibly.

“you’re doing this on purpose”, he says, stepping even closer, “standing here, looking like this”

“of course i am”, you say, letting your fingers trace lightly down your body, the lace shifting with the movement, “isn’t that how a gift works?”

he breathes out a curse under his breath, running a hand through his hair as if he’s trying to stop himself from grabbing you immediately.

“you’re gonna kill me”, he says, his voice low and desperate.

you lean in just a little, close enough that your lips brush his jaw, “we should have some fun first”

his breath stutters, he’s helplessly wrecked by the suggestion. you pull back half a step, just enough to watch his reaction, his eyes staying fixed on your body. he doesn’t know what to say, he can’t find the words, so you continue.

“okay then…”, you say, your voice low, teasing, “come and get your gift”

his mouth meets yours before you can say anything else, kissing you like he’s been holding back since the last time you did this. his hands move to your waist, pulling you flush against him, and the moan he lets out when your bodies touch goes straight through you.

you kiss him back just as eagerly, your hands sliding up his bare shoulders, feeling the heat of his skin under your palms. he shivers when your fingertips brush the nape of his neck, and his lips part against yours, deepening the kiss instantly.

his hand glides up your back, tracing the curves of your body, tracing the new lace with his fingers. when his thumb strokes just under the edge of it, his breath catches against your mouth.

“you’re seriously trying to kill me”, he says between kisses, his voice warm and ragged.

“maybe”, you say, letting your lips brush the corner of his jaw before returning to his mouth, kissing him harder.

he groans and his other hand cups your jaw, angling your face up to him. his kiss turns deeper, firmer, like he wants to devour every sound you make.

you feel his chest rise sharply against yours, the heat of him bleeding through the thin lace and the thinner air between you. he moves you back a step, then another, until your spine meets the dresser in your room. 

your fingers tangle in his hair, and he breaks the kiss just long enough to look at you. his lips are parted, slightly swollen, his eyes dark and blown wide.

“you look so good like this”, he says, “in that lace, like you’re waiting for me to do something”

you lean in, your lips ghosting his, teasing him.

“then don’t keep me waiting”

and that’s all it takes. 

he kisses you again, harder this time, his body pressing against yours, his breath mixing with yours, his hands roaming with growing urgency as the room fills with the sound of shared, shaky breaths and your lips meeting again and again, deeper each time.

his mouth trails down to your jaw, then to your neck. his hands slide up your sides again, his fingers tracing the lace until they find the clasp of your bra. the pads of his fingers brush your skin, sending a sharp tremor through your chest. he feels it and a soft, breathy laugh escapes him.

“you’re shaking”, he says, almost proud.

“you’re the one doing that”, you say.

his smile curves, small and wicked. the clasp gives easily under his touch, and he slides the straps off your shoulders one at a time. when the bra finally falls away, his hands move to your waist, his thumbs stroking circles against your skin, drawing you closer as he leans in again, kissing you harder, deeper.

“now”, he whispers against your lips, his voice thick, “let me really look at my gift”

his gaze drops, taking in the sight of you bare from the waist up. your breasts rise and fall with each quick breath, your nipples already hardening under the cool air and the heat of his stare. 

hyunjin’s eyes darken, a low hum vibrating in his throat as he leans in closer. his lips find your neck again, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin, his teeth grazing lightly at first, then nipping harder, leaving faint red marks that make you gasp.

“fuck, you’re gonna be such a good girl for me, i just know it”, he says against your pulse point, his tongue flicking out to soothe the bite before he sucks harder, drawing a whimper from your lips. 

his hands slide up your sides, his hands cupping your breasts now, his thumbs brushing over your nipples in firm circles that send jolts straight to your core. you arch into his touch, your body begging for more as he pinches one nipple between his fingers. he pulls back just enough to watch your face, his breath hot on your collarbone. 

“you are perfect”, he says, his voice husky, before he lowers his mouth. 

he takes one nipple into his mouth, sucking hard while his tongue swirls around the tip. your hands fly to his hair, your fingers tangling in it as you tug lightly, the pull making him groan against your skin. he switches to the other breast, sucking, biting until your knees weaken and your cunt throbs with need.

“hyunjin”, you say, the sound half plea, half moan, as he bites down just hard enough to sting, then soothes it with a flat lick of his tongue. 

he looks up at you through his lashes, his eyes gleaming with mischief and hunger, his lips shiny from your skin. 

“you like that? my teeth on you?”, he asks you, pinching both nipples now, twisting gently to draw out another sharp gasp.

“yes, oh god, yes”, you say, your hips moving restlessly. 

the lace of your panties clings damply to your folds, the friction teasing but not enough. his hands trail down your ribs, over your hips, hooking into the waistband of your panties but not pulling yet. instead, he sinks to his knees in front of you, the movement graceful and predatory, his face level with your stomach now.

hyunjin’s hands grip your thighs, spreading them slightly as he presses kisses along your abdomen, his lips soft at first, then firmer, his tongue dipping into your navel before trailing lower. 

“so pretty, like this for me, because i’m the only one that gets to take this off of you”, he says, nuzzling the skin just above your panties, his breath ghosting over the lace and making you shiver. 

he kisses down one thigh, his teeth scraping the inner skin, then the other, alternating sides until your legs tremble and you’re gripping the dresser for support. looking up at you, his eyes lock onto yours, intense and unwavering. 

“keep your eyes on me”, he says, more like orders you, his fingers tracing the edge of the lace where it meets your hip. 

he leans in, his lips brushing the fabric right over your clit, kissing the damp material as if it’s your skin itself. the pressure makes your clit pulse, and you moan, the sound echoing in the room. he smiles against you, then parts his lips, sucking the lace into his mouth, his tongue pressing through to lap at your folds indirectly.

“f-fuck- hyunjin”, you gasp, your hand moving to his shoulder, your nails digging in. 

he bites the fabric, tugging it with his teeth before releasing, the wet spot growing under his assault. his hands slide up your thighs, his thumbs hooking under the edges now, but he doesn’t remove them yet.

instead, he sucks harder on the lace, the outline of your cunt visible through the sheer material, his tongue flicking insistently until you’re rocking against his face, your moans spilling freely. your eyes stay on his as he watches you unravel. 

“you’re soaking through this”, he says, his voice muffled but smug, before biting the lace again. 

the friction makes you cry out, your hips bucking forward as pleasure coils tight in your stomach. he groans in response, the sound vibrating through the fabric to your core, his hands finally yanking the panties down your legs in one swift motion. you step out of them, kicking them aside, now fully exposed to him.

hyunjin doesn’t waste a second. still on his knees, he grips your ass, pulling you closer as his mouth dives in. his tongue flattens against your cunt, licking a long, slow stripe from your entrance to your clit, tasting your arousal with a hungry hum. 

“fuck, you have no idea… how hard it was for me last time”, he says, his eyes never leaving yours as he circles your clit with his tongue, then sucks it between his lips, “how much i wanted to have you like this but i couldn’t because i could only use my fucking fingers” 

your thighs shake, the dresser creaking under your weight as you lean back, but you force yourself to hold his gaze, the intimacy making every sensation sharper. he eats you out like he’s starved, his tongue thrusting into your hole before returning to lap at your clit, his lips sealing around it. 

one of his hands stays on your ass, his fingers digging in to hold you steady, while the other slides up your thigh, teasing your entrance with two fingers but not entering yet, just circling, gathering your wetness. 

“moan for me, y/n”, he says between licks, his voice rough, “let me hear how good this feels”

you do, the sounds pouring out as he devours you, his tongue flicking fast now, then slow and deep, his teeth grazing your clit just enough to make you jolt. pleasure builds relentlessly, your cunt clenching around nothing, so close to the edge that your vision blurs. 

“h-hyunjin… i-i’m gonna come”, you whine, your hips grinding against his mouth, chasing the release.

but then he stops, pulling his tongue away, his lips leaving your throbbing clit with a teasing kiss. he stays on his knees, breathing heavily, his eyes locked on yours with a wicked glint as your body hovers on the brink, denied and aching.

hyunjin stands up slowly, his hands trailing up your thighs. he moves closer, his chest brushing your breasts, your nipples grazing his skin. he cups your face and crashes his mouth against yours. the kiss is filthy, urgent, his tongue sweeping in, sharing the taste of your arousal mixed with his saliva. you moan into him, tasting yourself on his lips, making your cunt clench emptily.

“feel that?”, he says against your mouth, nipping your lower lip, “that’s you, all over me. so fucking wet for me” 

his words vibrate through you, and you nod, helpless, your hands clutching his shoulders, your nails scraping down his back. the kiss deepens, your tongues tangling as he devours you, one hand sliding into your hair to tug lightly, angling your head for better access.

he breaks away just enough to hoist you up, his arms lifting you effortlessly onto the dresser. it is cool against your ass, a stark contrast to the fire building inside. your legs part instinctively, wrapping around his waist, pulling him between your thighs. hyunjin groans at the contact, his cock straining against his boxers, rubbing against your slick folds through the fabric. 

“god, you’re desperate”, he says, his eyes half-lidded as he watches you squirm, “need me inside you already?”

“please”, you moan, your fingers threading through his hair now, tugging him back for another kiss. 

he nods, but his hand drifts lower, sliding between your legs. two fingers part your folds, teasing your entrance before pushing in slowly, curling inside you. you gasp into his mouth, the stretch amazing after his tongue, your hips rocking to meet his thrusts. he moves his fingers steadily, his thumb circling your clit in lazy loops, building the pressure again.

“fuck… you’re so tight”, he says, his other hand kneading your breast, pinching your nipple, “you’re gonna feel so good around my cock. you want that? want me to fuck you right here?” 

his fingers move, hitting that spot inside making you cry out, your legs tightening around him, your heels digging into his lower back.

“yes, f-fuck… hyunjin, fuck me”, you beg him, your voice breaking on a moan as he adds a third finger, stretching you further, his thumb pressing harder on your clit. 

the dresser rattles faintly with your movements, bottles falling, but you don’t care. he kisses down your jaw, sucking a mark into your neck while his fingers move faster, slick sounds filling the room alongside your breaths and moans. your hand slips from his hair to his neck, holding him close as pleasure coils tighter, but he senses you’re climbing too fast. 

“not yet”, he says, withdrawing his fingers, leaving you whining in protest. he smirks, bringing them to his mouth, sucking them clean while holding your gaze, “you taste as sweet as the last time, but i need to be inside you now”

he shoves his boxers down, freeing his cock. it springs out, thick and veined, the tip already leaking precum. you lick your lips at the sight, but he’s impatient, gripping your hip to line himself up. the head nudges your entrance, slicking through your wetness before he thrusts in, inch by inch, filling you completely.

“fuck… you’re so big”, you moan, your head falling back. 

your walls flutter around him, adjusting to the size, and he pauses, buried deep, his forehead pressed to yours. 

“you okay?”, he asks, his voice strained, his hand stroking your thigh.

“yeah, m-move”, you say, your legs locking tighter around his waist, pulling him even closer. 

he starts thrusting, his hips snapping against yours with building force. the dresser thuds against the wall, your breasts bouncing with each impact, and hyunjin’s mouth finds one nipple, sucking hard as he fucks you.

“like that, huh? my cock hitting deep?”, he says, releasing your nipple, his hand replacing his mouth to squeeze and roll the peak. 

you nod frantically, one hand in his hair, the other clawing at his neck, feeling his pulse race under your fingers. 

“moan louder, come on, let me hear you”, he says, angling his hips to grind against your clit with every thrust.

“hyunjin, oh god… so good”, you cry, the friction overwhelming, pleasure spiking as he rubs your clit with his thumb again, matching the rhythm of his cock. 

your cunt squeezes him, drawing a guttural groan from his throat. he kisses you messily, all teeth and tongue, swallowing your moans as he pounds harder, the slap of skin on skin echoing. your legs tremble around him, but you don’t let go. his free hand grips your ass, lifting you for better leverage, and the new angle makes him hit that spot relentlessly. 

“you’re clenching so tight… you’re gonna make me come”, he says, his breath ragged against your lips, his thrusts erratic now.

“together, p-please, come with me”, you say, your nails raking his scalp, pulling his hair just hard enough to make him hiss. 

he nods, capturing your mouth in a kiss, your tongues together as the coil snaps. your orgasm crashes over you, waves of heat pulsing through your core, as you moan into him.

hyunjin follows seconds later, burying himself deep with a choked groan, spilling hot inside you, his body shuddering against yours. you both pant, your foreheads touching, his cock twitching as he rides out the last pulses. slowly, he softens, but doesn’t pull out yet, holding you close, his hands gentle now on your breasts, his thumbs soothing your nipples.

“fuck, that was intense”, he murmurs, kissing your swollen lips softly, a lazy smile curving his mouth. you hum in agreement, your legs loosening but still draped around him.

he eases back just enough to look at you. his hands slip from your chest to your waist, steadying you as he takes one step away. when he slips out, a wet sound follows his movement, his cum dripping down your thigh. you shiver and he notices immediately.

“come here”, he says.

he bends, his arms sliding under your thighs and back, lifting you off the dresser. you curl into him on instinct, your hands resting against his shoulders as he carries you across the room. he lays you down on the bed with a tenderness that contrasts beautifully with how desperately he’d touched you seconds before.

a sheet slips over you when he pulls it up, warm against your skin, just like the last time. his eyes scan your face, checking every flicker, every breath.

“you okay?”, he asks softly, brushing a damp strand of hair away from your cheek.

you give him a small, satisfied smile, “i’m good. really, really good”

“you sure you’re ready for the rest? because well… they’re all waiting out there like it’s their turn at heaven, which now that i’ve had it… it really is”

you laugh quietly, your fingers grazing the back of his hand, “i’m good, i’m ready”

he dips down then, capturing your mouth in a kiss. you can tell that he wants more, that he’s still hungry for you, but he knows he has to let you go. his thumb strokes your jaw as his lips move with yours, deepening just a bit before he finally pulls back.

“i’ll send the next one in”, he whispers, letting his forehead rest against yours for a second longer, “and… good luck”

you roll your eyes playfully, “i think i’ll be okay”

his quiet laugh is warm and breathless. he gives your lips a quick peck, stands up, giving you one last long look before he puts his boxers on again. he goes to the door and opens it just enough to slip out and close it behind him.

silence settles.

you lie there, the sheet draped loosely over your bare body, the warmth of hyunjin still clinging to your skin. your pulse steadies, then builds again with anticipation. you stare up at the ceiling for a moment, catching your breath, letting it all sink in.

your mind drifts back to the last time you played this game, how different it felt then. the nerves. the newness. the way each of them had hesitated before you all started this.

this time, there’s no hesitation, only hunger and the echo of that night where one by one they’d left you shaking, breathless, blissed-out in ways you hadn’t expected. you adjust the sheet slightly, your legs brushing together, your heartbeat picking up again.

you’re ready.

and that’s when the door opens again. 

minho steps inside like he owns the room. no hesitation, no pause, just a quiet push of the door and the soft click behind him. he’s in nothing but his boxers, his hair slightly mussed, his chest rising and falling with a controlled breath that gives him away - he’s excited too, even if he pretends otherwise.

his eyes drop to the sheet draped over you and stay there for a moment too long. then, he scoffs under his breath, smirking.

“well”, he says, walking straight towards the bed, “you look a lot better than you did last time i got you”

you raise an eyebrow, “excuse me?”

he stops at the edge of the mattress, leaning down slightly, his smirk deepening.

“don’t act innocent. last time i came in, you were a wreck already. i think you’d lost count by then”

heat blooms in your cheeks - and lower - but your smile is quick and sly.

“that’s because you were, i don’t know… much later then. this time you’re second. don’t get cocky”

“me? cocky? sweetheart, i’m just stating facts”, his laugh is soft, amused, entirely unforgivable.

you sit up a little, letting the sheet fall strategically, and his eyes follow the movement immediately, his stare hungry, sharp. you tilt your head. 

“facts like what?”

he steps closer, one knee sinking into the mattress as he climbs onto the bed without asking, without waiting, like he has every right to be there.

“like…”, he says, bracing one hand beside your hip, leaning in, “you’re less ruined right now, which means i get you fresh this time”, his lips brush your jaw, not quite a kiss, “and that means i can do even better”

you scoff, but your breath catches.

“oh, please. you think you’re that powerful?”

“i know i am”, he pulls back just enough to meet your eyes.

you roll your eyes, but your pulse betrays you.

“sure, keep telling yourself that”

“i don’t have to tell myself anything. you’re the one who practically melted last time”

he smirks, leaning closer until your noses almost touch. your breath hitches - not that you’d ever admit it - and your fingers slide up his forearm, slow and challenging.

“big words, minho”

his eyes flick to your mouth.

“prove them wrong”, he whispers.

you don’t give him the satisfaction of answering. instead, you pull him in by the nape of his neck, and the second your lips touch, the playful bickering melts into something hotter, heavier.

his mouth moves against yours like it’s the only thing he knows how to do. you kiss him back with the same heat, your hand tightening in his hair as he presses his body over yours, the sheet slipping lower, forgotten between you.

the kiss is hungry but controlled, you can feel the restraint vibrating through him, the tension of someone who knows exactly how to unravel you and is savoring the slow approach.

“yeah”, he says against your lips, his forehead brushing yours, “definitely fresh”

you laugh breathlessly into the next kiss, letting him settle over you, letting the heat rise again.

and the game continues, your tongues sliding together, minho’s lips firm and insistent. his body weight pins you lightly to the mattress, his chest brushing your breasts. you arch up instinctively, seeking more friction, and he hums low in his throat, the sound vibrating through your mouth as his hand cups the side of your face, his thumb tracing your jawline.

your hand roams down his back, your fingers splaying over the muscles there, feeling them flex under your touch. your nails scraping lightly along his spine as you dip lower, hooking into the waistband of his boxers. you tug them down with deliberate slowness, savoring the way his breath hitches against your lips. minho doesn’t break the kiss, just deepens it, his tongue sweeping in to claim more as you push the fabric past his ass, exposing the firm curve of it to the cool air of the room.

“y/n”, he says into your mouth, shifting his weight to help you shove the boxers lower, kicking them off with a muffled curse when they catch on his ankle. 

now he’s bare against you, his hard cock pressing hot and heavy along your thigh, twitching with need. you wrap your leg around him, pulling him closer, and he groans softly, his hips rocking forward to slide against your slick folds. you break the kiss just enough to speak, your lips brushing his with every word, your voice low and teasing. 

“last time... you were in control”, you say, nipping at his bottom lip as his mouth chases yours, refusing to let the contact fully break, “with my vibrator... making me come so hard i couldn’t think” 

your hand slides up to tangle in his hair, tugging lightly to keep his face close. he kisses you harder in response, his tongue flicking against yours, but you continue, words tumbling out between the wet sounds of your mouths meeting, “but now… there’s no toy. just you and me, and i’m the one in charge tonight”

minho chuckles darkly against your lips, the sound low and vibrating, but he doesn’t argue. instead, he captures your mouth again, sucking on your tongue until you whimper, your body melting under him. 

with a surge of strength, you plant your feet against the mattress and roll, flipping your positions. he lands on his back with a surprised grunt, his eyes widening for a split second before darkening with amusement and heat. you straddle him swiftly, your knees bracketing his hips, your wet cunt settling against his cock, coating him in your arousal.

“oh, is that right?”, he says, his hands immediately finding your thighs, his fingers digging in just enough to leave faint marks. 

you lean down, crashing your lips to his again, silencing any words. the kiss turns frantic now, your breasts pressing against his chest as you grind down, sliding your clit along his cock. he bucks up to meet you, a low moan escaping into your mouth, his grip tightening on your skin.

you keep the pace, rocking your hips in slow circles, feeling him throb beneath you, the head of his cock nudging your entrance with every pass. your hands brace on his shoulders, your nails biting into the muscle there as you kiss him deeper, swallowing his gasps. 

“fuck, you feel good like this”, you say against his lips, breaking just to nip at his jaw, then returning to devour his mouth. 

his tongue tangles with yours, hot and demanding, but you control the angle, the pressure, making him chase your lips when you pull back teasingly. the room fills with the smack of lips, the slick glide of your bodies. 

minho’s hands roam up your sides, his thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts, but you capture his wrists, pinning them lightly above his head for a moment, showing your dominance. he lets you, smirking into the kiss, but his cock jumps against you, betraying his eagerness. 

“i’m gonna ride you”, you whisper hotly, releasing his hands to trail yours down his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart, “make you beg for it”

he doesn't beg - that’s not minho - but his eyes lock on yours, intense and challenging, as you shift up slightly. one hand wraps around his base, stroking him firmly, your thumb swiping over the leaking tip to spread the precum. minho hisses, his hips jerking up, but you hold him steady, aligning him with your entrance. slowly, torturously, you sink down, the thick head stretching your walls with a delicious burn. 

“oh f-fuck”, you moan into his mouth, kissing him messily as you take more of him, inch by inch, until he's fully seated inside you, your ass flush against his thighs.

the fullness is overwhelming, his cock pulsing deep within your heat, and you pause there, clenching around him. minho groans, his head falling back against the pillow, but his hands find your hips immediately, his fingers splaying wide over your curves. 

“fuck... you’re so tight”, he says, his voice rough, pulling you down for another kiss as you start to move. 

you roll your hips first, grinding in circles to feel him hit every sensitive spot inside, then lift up, slamming back down with a wet slap that echoes in the room. you set a steady rhythm, rising and falling, your breasts moving with each thrust, your nipples grazing his chest.

minho’s grip on your hips tightens, guiding you subtly at first, but you swat his hands away playfully, leaning forward to lie on his chest. 

“my pace”, you say, kissing him hard. 

he meets your thrusts from below, bucking up to drive deeper, a growl rumbling in his chest as your cunt flutters around him.

“fuck- yes, just like that”, he says against your lips, one hand sneaking up to cup your breast, his thumb rolling your nipple until it hardens under his touch. 

you moan, the pleasure spiking, but you don't slow, riding him harder, the bed creaking beneath you. your clit grinds against his pubic bone, building that coil of heat low in your stomach. his other hand moves to your ass, spreading you slightly to feel himself slide in and out, the obscene sounds of your joining filling the air.

you lose yourself in the sensation, kissing him nonstop, your lips swollen and slick, your breaths coming in pants between the press of mouths. 

“minho... you’re so deep”, you whimper, your nails raking down his chest, leaving red trails that make him hiss and thrust up harder. he captures your bottom lip between his teeth, tugging gently before soothing it with his tongue, his hands moving to your hips, urging you faster despite what you had told him.

but then, as you sit up and your pace quickens, chasing that edge, minho’s fingers dig in like iron, stopping your movements mid-thrust. you gasp, trying to rock down, but he holds you firm, his cock buried deep but unmoving, throbbing inside you. his eyes meet yours, dark and hungry, a smirk curling his lips. 

“you really thought you were in control?”, he says, his voice low and dangerous, laced with that dominant edge you’re getting to know so well, “oh, y/n, you were so wrong”

his eyes lock onto yours, that smirk deepening as he holds you still. the stretch of him fills you completely, every pulse of his length sending sparks through your core, but his grip on your hips is unyielding, his fingers bruising in the best way. you whimper, trying to roll your hips down for friction, but he doesn’t budge, his body a solid anchor beneath you.

“thought you were in control this whole time?”, minho says, his voice a low rumble. his thumbs stroke lazy circles over your hipbones, contrasting the iron hold of his palms, “i’ve been in charge since i came in. i was just letting you have your little moment... pretending”

the words hit you like a spark, heat flooding your veins, your cunt responding instantly by fluttering around him, growing impossibly wetter. arousal slicks your inner thighs, dripping down to coat his base where you’re joined, the wetness making a soft, wet sound as you clench involuntarily. 

“fuck”, you gasp, the sensation of your own slickness sliding along his cock making your head spin, desire coiling tighter in your stomach.

you try to move again, lifting your hips, desperate for that glide, that pressure against your walls, but minho’s hands clamp down harder, pinning you flush against him. his cock throbs deep inside, teasing you with its stillness, the head nudging your cervix making your toes curl. 

“minho... please”, you whine, rocking forward as much as his hold allows, your clit brushing his pubic bone in a fleeting touch that only heightens the ache.

he chuckles, the sound dark and satisfied, his gaze never leaving your face as he watches every flicker of need cross your features. slowly, deliberately, one hand releases your hip, trailing up your inner thigh with feather-light touches that make your skin prickle. 

his fingers ghost over the sensitive crease where thigh meets groin, so close to where you need him most, but not quite there. you squirm, trying to chase his hand, but his other hand holds you steady, forcing you to feel every inch of him unmoving inside you.

“so eager”, he says, his hand hovering just above your clit, the warmth of his palm radiating against your swollen folds. 

you can feel the heat of him, and it makes you drip even more, your arousal trickling down to soak his balls. your walls spasm around his thickness, begging for motion, and he finally lets his fingers brush the outer lips of your cunt, spreading your wetness without mercy.

“look at you... leaking all over me”, minho says, his voice husky, his eyes darkening as he circles your entrance where he’s already buried, feeling the slick mess you’ve made. 

then, agonisingly slow, his thumb finds your clit, pressing just the pad against the throbbing nub. he doesn't rub, just holds the pressure there, light and teasing, letting you feel the pulse of your own heartbeat in the sensitive bundle of nerves. a moan tears from your throat, raw and needy, your body arching into his touch despite his restraint. 

“oh god, minho… m-move, please, i need...”, you trail off into another whimper as he starts to circle your clit, his thumb slick with your arousal. 

the sensation of his cock stretching you full and unmoving and his thumb tormenting your clit has you trembling, your hips jerking in futile attempts to grind down. he keeps you locked in place, his hand around your waist like a vice, while his thumb works you over with expert slowness. 

each pass over your clit sends jolts of pleasure racing up your spine, making your nipples tighten and your breath come in short, desperate pants. you try to rock against him again, chasing that building wave, but he stops every movement, his hips lifting just enough to keep you speared on him without giving you the thrust you crave. 

“not yet, you will come when i say”, he whispers, leaning up to nip at your collarbone, his breath hot against your skin, “feel how wet you are for me? all because i let you think you had the power”

your cunt clenches hard at his words, more slickness flooding out, easing the way even though he’s not moving. the teasing circles on your clit speed up, his thumb pressing firmer now, flicking lightly over the peak before soothing it with broad strokes. 

moans spill from your lips uncontrollably, your hands clutching at his shoulders, your nails digging into his muscles as the pleasure coils tighter, so close but held just out of reach.

“minho... i’m- fuck, it’s too much, let me move”, you beg him, your voice breaking, but he only smirks, his hand on your hip holding you down as his fingers pinch your clit, rolling it between them.

the sensation rips a cry from you, your body shuddering, your walls rippling around his cock in desperate pulses. you’re dripping steadily now, the wetness pooling at his base, making every tiny shift slick and filthy. he watches you fall apart under his control, his eyes hooded with lust, his own arousal evident in the way his cock twitches inside you, straining for release but held back by sheer will.

finally, after what feels like an eternity of teasing - your clit swollen and hypersensitive, every nerve alight - minho shifts beneath you. he plants his feet flat on the mattress, knees bending for leverage, both of his hands gripping your hips. 

“alright”, he says, his voice rough with restraint, “now you get what you need, but remember, i’m in charge”

with a powerful thrust upward, he drives into you, the force slamming his cock deep, hitting that spot inside making you cry out, the sudden motion shattering the tease, pleasure exploding through you as he sets a brutal pace. his hips snap up relentlessly, each thrust bottoming out, his pubic bone grinding against your clit. you brace your hands on his chest, riding the waves as he fucks up into you.

“yes, fuck, just like that”, you moan, finally able to move with him, your hips meeting his thrusts in a frantic rhythm. 

his cock drags along your walls, the head pounding your spot over and over until you're seeing white. minho’s hands guide you now, pulling you down hard onto him, his thumbs digging into your flesh as he controls your bodies.

he sits up, capturing one of your breasts in his mouth, his tongue licking your nipple before sucking hard, his teeth grazing the peak. the added sensation has you screaming, your cunt fluttering wildly around him, so close to the edge. 

“come on, let go”, he moans against your skin, releasing your nipple before claiming your mouth in a messy kiss, your tongues tangling as he thrusts deeper. his hand slips between you again, his fingers finding your clit once more, rubbing firm circles.

his cock filling you, stretching you, and his fingers working your clit push you over. pleasure crashes through you, your orgasm ripping another scream from your throat as your walls convulse around him. slickness gushes out, soaking him further, your body shaking uncontrollably. minho breaks down with you, groaning into your mouth as he spills hot inside you, his cock pulsing with each rope of cum, filling you to the brim.

you collapse forward, falling against his chest in a boneless heap, your breaths ragged and synced. his arm wraps around you, his hand on your back, his other hand still between your legs, fingers lazily stroking your oversensitive clit through the aftershocks, drawing out soft whimpers from your lips. he presses a kiss to your temple, both of you trembling in the aftermath, connected and spent.

minho breathes against your hair and for a moment, it’s quiet, until he laughs softly. a low, smug, absolutely infuriating sound.

“so you really thought you were in control”, he says, his lips brushing your temple like he’s kissing the words into you.

you try to reply but your mouth opens and nothing comes out except a faint, breathless sound. you’re still trembling, your face buried in his shoulder, and his laugh deepens.

“mmhm, yeah”, he says, brushing a thumb over your cheek as he tilts your face up, “that’s what i thought”

you press your lips to his just to shut him up, or at least that’s the lie you tell yourself. the kiss is slow, needy in a way you can’t hide, and when he kisses you back, he does it like he knows exactly why you’re doing it.

“can’t talk?”, he whispers against your mouth, “but you were so loud a minute ago, you were screaming for me”

you glare at him, but it’s useless. your body feels like melted sugar, and he knows it.

“shut up”, you mumble, kissing him again, your hand weakly curling in the back of his neck.

“you really weren’t ready for me. admit it”, he grins against your mouth.

“never”

“liar”

you scoff, but you can’t even push him away properly, your arms are too heavy, your legs still unsteady. he notices, because he tilts his head and smirks like he’s studying his own masterpiece.

“look at you”, he says, brushing your hair back, “last time you were a wreck by the time i got to you. and now? second place and already ruined”

“i’m not ruined”, you say.

“sure”, he says, kissing the corner of your mouth once, slow and taunting, “keep pretending”

he shifts carefully, easing out of you and laying you back against the pillows. you sink into them instantly - your body grateful, your pride less so.

minho stands up, stretching lazily, and grabs his boxers from the floor. he glances back at you as he pulls them on, his eyes sweeping over your still-warm, still-flushed form under the sheet.

“you should see yourself right now”, he says, running a hand through his hair with a satisfied sigh, “completely done. and i know i could go harder”

you throw a pillow at him - or at least, you try. it barely leaves your hand.

he laughs, “adorable”

“i hate you”, you lie.

“no, you don’t”

he walks to the door, his hand on the knob, then turns back with one last wicked smile.

“rest up, you’re gonna need it”

you roll your eyes weakly, “fuck off”

“can’t”, he says cheerfully, opening the door, “someone else is waiting their turn”

and with a final smirk, he slips out, leaving you breathless, exhausted, and already warming at the thought of who will come through that door next. you just sit there in the warm, hazy stillness he left behind. your body feels heavy, overstimulated, sweetly undone.

your thighs shift slightly, and the sensation is… unmistakably messy - the lingering, heated mix of your own arousal and the traces both hyunjin and minho left behind on your skin. it’s warm, slick, a physical reminder of how thoroughly the game has already claimed you.

you reach to your nightstand and pull out a small stack of tissues. you take your time, wiping away the evidence of the two rounds, cleaning your inner thighs, your hips, anywhere their touch still lingers.

every brush of the tissue sends a faint aftershock through you and you can’t help but think about the rest of the boys and what they’re gonna do to you, and it turns you on even more, feeling yourself getting wet again.

once you’re clean, or at least as clean as you can, you toss the tissues into the small bin beside the bed and let yourself breathe again, sinking back into the pillows. the sheet rests lightly over your hips, your upper body bare, warm from the afterglow.

you exhale through your nose and then, a soft click, the door opening.

jeongin steps inside, and the moment he sees you there - your hair mussed, your breasts rising and falling - he freezes. his eyes go wide before he can stop himself. like hyunjin and minho, he’s wearing only his boxers, his chest flushed, his throat tight with a swallow he doesn’t hide fast enough.

“...oh”, he breathes, standing there like he’s forgotten how to move.

so shy, so sweet, just like when he entered your room the first time that day. and then the silk happened, and he had control of your body and you. 

you offer the smallest smile, tilting your head.

“hi, innie”

he shuts the door behind him slowly, his gaze still locked on you, his voice barely a whisper.

“you look… you look incredible”

he steps closer, hesitant, but unable to resist you, the sight pulling him in like gravity.

“come here,” you say softly, lifting the sheet with a small gesture.

the invitation is all he needs. he climbs onto the mattress carefully, like he’s worried he’ll disturb you, settling beside you with knees sinking into the bed. he’s so warm, warmer than you expected, and when he sits next to you, his thigh almost brushes yours.

almost.

you close the distance deliberately and he inhales sharply. his eyes flicker down your body, then dart back up to your face, his cheeks tinting pink.

“you’re… wow”, he whispers, “i mean i-i already knew you looked good but um…”

he can’t finish the sentence. you don’t make him. you lean closer, your voice dropping into something lower, something that makes his breath stutter.

“jeongin”, you say, your fingers grazing his jaw, your thumb brushing the corner of his mouth, “come lie down with me”

he obeys instantly. 

he lowers himself beside you, half on his side, half on his elbow, watching you like he’s trying not to stare too obviously but failing spectacularly. when you shift to face him, the sheet slips a bit lower on your waist, and his breath catches again.

“you okay?”, you smirk softly.

he lets out a tiny, embarrassed laugh.

“yeah, but umm… we could hear you”, he says, his voice small but honest, “in the living room. all of us”

“me?”, you blink.

he nods, his eyes flicking away for a moment.

“you. hyunjin. minho. the whole thing. and we-”, he stops, bites the inside of his cheek, then tries again, “it was hard, really hard, you know… not to do anything”

your smile sharpens, slow and dangerous, because you know exactly what he means.

“oh?”, you ask, moving closer, your lips hovering near the shell of his ear, “so you were all out there… listening?”

“yes”, his breath trembles.

“and you wanted to touch yourselves?”, you ask him.

 “... yes”, his cheeks flush deeper.

you hum, pleased, moving your head to tilt his chin up with a finger, “but you didn’t”

“no”, his voice breaks slightly, “we waited”

good.

you move closer, closing the remaining space between your bodies. you’re not touching him fully, not yet, just close enough that he feels your warmth, your dominance settling over him like a slow, sweet pressure.

“well”, you say, letting your lips graze the corner of his mouth without kissing him yet, “you don’t have to wait anymore, innie”

jeongin’s eyes darken, wide and wanting.

“you’re finally here, with me”, you continue, your hand sliding up his chest, just enough pressure to make him swallow, “and you can do whatever you want…”

his breath shudders, his fingers clutching the sheets. you lean closer, your nose brushing his, your voice a whisper.

“like a good boy”

the sound he makes is soft, needy, involuntary.

you smile, then you finally kiss him.

it starts slow but the moment he feels your lips move against his, he melts into the kiss completely. his hand lifts, trembling slightly, settling on your waist as he kisses you deeper, warmer, his breath mixing with yours.

you shift closer, pressing your body to his, guiding him without force, without rush, just enough control for him to feel it. just enough for him to know he’s yours for this round. and he kisses you like he’s been waiting the entire time for his turn.

the kiss deepens, your lips parting as jeongin’s tongue tentatively brushes yours, seeking permission. you grant it, tilting your head to angle better, your hand cupping the back of his neck to pull him closer. his mouth moves with a growing hunger, no longer hesitant but eager. his fingers tighten on your waist, bunching the sheet between you, the thin barrier doing nothing to hide the heat building where your bodies press.

you break the kiss first, just enough to trail your lips along his jaw, feeling the rapid flutter of his pulse under your mouth. 

“good boy”, you murmur against his skin, the words vibrating low and approving, “kissing me so well already. you’re doing such a good job, innie”

a shiver runs through him, his breath hitching as he nuzzles into your neck, his lips grazing the sensitive spot just below your ear. he presses a soft kiss there, tentative at first, then bolder, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin. 

“yeah?”, he whispers, his voice rough with need, his hand sliding up your side, his fingers splaying over your ribs.

“mmhm”, you hum, arching slightly into his touch, encouraging him.

it draws a quiet groan from him, his mouth opening wider against your neck, sucking gently at the curve where shoulder meets throat. the wet heat of his lips sends sparks down your spine, your nipples hardening as arousal stirs low in your stomach.

jeongin kisses lower, his teeth grazing lightly, not biting but nipping just enough to make you gasp. you can feel the hard line of his cock pressing into your thigh through his boxers, throbbing with restraint, but he doesn’t push for more. instead, he focuses on your neck, his lips trailing fire along your collarbone, his tongue soothing each mark he leaves.

“you’re making me feel so good”, you say, threading your fingers through his hair, guiding him gently, “keep going just like that, like my good boy” 

he whimpers softly into your skin, the sound muffled as he kisses back up to the hollow of your throat, his breath coming in short, heated puffs. your body responds, warmth pooling between your legs, the earlier echoes of pleasure from the others making you slick and ready all over again.

you pull back slightly, catching his gaze. his eyes are dark, pupils blown wide with desire, cheeks flushed a deep pink. 

“jeongin”, you say, your voice husky, your thumb tracing his lower lip, “you were so good for me, waiting like that... you didn’t touch yourself even though you wanted to. so now... you can do whatever you want with me, that’s your prize”

his eyes widen, a flicker of surprise mixing with lust, but it shifts quickly to something bolder, hungrier. 

“anything i want?”, he asks, his voice barely above a whisper, his hand stilling on your hip.

“anything”, you say, leaning in to nip at his earlobe, “i’m yours for this, so show me how much you want it”

jeongin doesn’t hesitate then. with a soft, determined exhale, he shifts his weight, his hands guiding you smoothly. you’re both on your sides, but he moves you, turning you until your back presses against his chest. the sheet tangles briefly around your legs, but he tugs it down, exposing your skin to the cool air of the room. 

his body molds to yours from behind, solid and warm, his arm draping over your waist as he settles in close. one hand slides up immediately, cupping your breast. he squeezes gently at first, his thumb brushing over your nipple, feeling it harden under his touch. 

“fuck”, he breathes against your neck, his lips returning there, kissing the spot he marked earlier. 

his mouth sucks a fresh bruise into your skin while he rolls your nipple between his fingers, pinching just hard enough to draw a moan from your throat. you arch back into him, pressing your ass against the rigid heat of his cock, feeling it twitch through the thin fabric. 

“yes, like that”, you say, your voice breathy.

his grip tightens on your breast, his fingers tugging your nipple before soothing it with his thumb. the sensation shoots straight to your core, slickness gathering as he moves to your other breast now, switching sides with the same deliberate care. 

his kisses on your neck grow messier, his tongue on your sensitive skin, his teeth scraping lightly as he murmurs, “you feel so good... so soft”

his hand doesn't stay there long. it trails down your stomach, his fingers dancing over your skin, before moving lower. you feel the heat of his palm hovering over your clit, and you shift instinctively, but he takes control, hooking your leg with his. 

“lift”, he whispers, his voice gaining an edge of command, just like the last time, and you obey, draping your thigh back over his hip, opening yourself wide.

now exposed, his fingers find your clit easily, swollen and aching from the buildup. he circles it slowly at first, just the pads of two fingers tracing the slick folds, gathering your wetness before pressing directly on it. the touch makes your hips buck, a gasp escaping as he rubs in firm, steady strokes. 

“k-keep going, jeongin, p-please”

his fingers press firmer against your clit, making your thighs tremble, slickness coating his fingers. the pleasure builds sharp and insistent, your cunt clenching around nothing, aching for more than just his touch. you moan softly, pushing back against him, feeling the thick ridge of his cock strain against his boxers, hot and insistent against your ass.

“you’re so wet for me, y/n... does that feel good?”

“it feels so good, innie”, you breathe, your voice husky with need, your hand reaching back to grip his thigh, “you’re making me so wet. but i need more, i need you inside me”

jeongin groans low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your neck where his lips still linger, sucking another fresh mark into your skin. 

“yeah?”, he says, his free hand sliding down to shove his boxers out of the way to free his cock, hard and leaking, the head brushing your thigh as he positions himself, nudging against your entrance from behind, “you want my cock, huh? want me to fuck you like this?”

“yes”, you moan, arching your back to give him better access, your leg still hooked over his hip.

he doesn't make you wait long. with a steady push, he sinks inside you, the thick length stretching you open inch by inch. your walls grip him tight, slick and welcoming after his teasing, pulling him deeper until his hips flush against your ass. he bottoms out with a shuddering breath, his cock throbbing inside you, filling every space. 

“fuck, you’re so tight”, he says, his voice breaking as he adjusts to your walls clenching around him, “i-it feels amazing... like you were made for me”

you whimper at the fullness, your body also adjusting to him buried deep, every pulse sending sparks through your core. 

“move”, you urge him, rolling your hips slightly to urge him on, “just… fuck me, jeongin”

he obeys with a low moan, his hand leaving your clit for a moment to grip your hip, holding you steady as he pulls back almost all the way out before slamming back in. the thrust jolts you forward, pleasure ripping through you as his cock drags along your inner walls, hitting deep. 

he sets a rhythm then, steady and building, his hips snapping against your ass with each drive, the wet slap of skin echoing in the room. his other hand moves to your breast, pinching your nipple between his fingers, rolling it roughly as he fucks you.

“god, yes”, he says against your neck, his lips trailing hot kisses along your shoulder, his teeth grazing the skin, “you feel perfect... squeezing me so good” 

his thrusts pick up speed, deeper now, the head of his cock nudging your spot, making you tremble. you moan loudly, matching his rhythm, pushing back to meet each thrust, your ass grinding against his pelvis.

“more”, you tell him through a gasp, your hand covering his on your breast, pressing it harder against you, “fuck, you’re doing so well. such a good boy for me, innie” 

the praise makes him thrust harder, a growl escaping as he latches onto your neck again, sucking hard while his fingers twist your nipple, sending jolts straight to your clit. jeongin’s breaths come ragged now, moans spilling from his lips with every snap of his hips. 

“you like that? my cock deep inside you?”, he asks, his voice strained, his hand sliding up from your hip to cup your chin gently but firmly. 

he turns your head towards him, angling you so your eyes meet his, dark and intense, filled with raw desire. he crashes his mouth against yours, the kiss messy and deep, your tongues tangling as he continues to thrust into you from behind.

the angle lets him go even deeper, his cock spearing you relentlessly while your lips lock, your moans muffled against each other’s mouths. you taste the salt of his skin, feel the vibration of his groans as he kisses you harder.

“come for me”, he whispers against your lips during a brief break for air, his thrusts faltering slightly with how close he is, “i want to feel you come on my cock... clench around me while i fuck you”

“you too”, you reply, breathless, nipping at his lower lip before he dives back in, the kiss turning frantic, “come inside me, jeongin” 

your words push him over, his eyes locking onto yours, wide and pleading, as he drives in one last time, hard and unyielding. jeongin breaks first, his cock swelling inside you, thrusting erratically as he spills hot ropes of cum deep inside you. you follow immediately, your cunt spasming around his length, your walls fluttering wildly as orgasm crashes through you. you cry out into his mouth, your body shaking as waves of heat pulse from your core. 

“fuck, y-yes”, he moans against your lips, his eyes never leaving yours, the intensity making it all the more raw.

he kisses you again, your lips brushing and your tongues sliding lazily now, moans turning to soft whimpers as the aftershocks ripple between you. his thrusts slow to shallow grinds, milking every last bit of pleasure, cum leaking out around where he’s still buried inside you.

“so good”, you murmur into the kiss, your bodies pressed tight as you ride out the high together.

jeongin’s arms remain wrapped around you for a moment longer, his forehead resting against yours as both of you come down together. then he shifts carefully, slipping out of you and guiding you with a gentleness that feels almost shy again.

“wait”, he says softly.

he helps you turn around, slow and careful, until you’re lying on your back and he’s hovering over you, braced on one arm. his other hand cups your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin like he’s grounding himself through the touch.

he kisses you again, not desperate now, not frantic. you smile against his mouth, your fingers curling lightly into his hair.

“you know”, you say between kisses, “you surprised me again”

he pauses, blinking, “i did?”

“mmhm”, you tilt your head, letting him kiss along your jaw, “both times. you start all shy and sweet… and then suddenly you’re completely different”

his cheeks tint pink immediately, “i-”

“you become dominant”, you finish for him, amused, “confident, like you know exactly what you’re doing”, your thumb traces the line of his jaw, “but you’re still such a good boy when i praise you”

he lets out a small, embarrassed laugh, ducking his head to hide his face in your neck.

“don’t say it like that, please”, he says, though his smile gives him away.

“it’s true”, you tease gently, “you melt every time”

he lifts his head just enough to look at you.

“you just… do that to me”, he admits quietly, “i don’t know what it is. you make me want to be good for you, and then-”, he shrugs, bashful, “you make me forget how”

you laugh softly, pulling him into another kiss, slower still, full of warmth instead of fire. after a moment, he shifts off you reluctantly, reaching for his boxers and pulling them back on. he glances at you again, concern flickering across his expression.

“you okay?”, he asks, “really okay to keep going?”

you stretch slightly, smiling up at him, “i promise i’m good”

he exhales in relief, smiling back, “okay, just… checking”

you prop yourself up on your elbows, your eyes glinting with mischief.

“you think the others heard us?”

his ears go red instantly. 

“what- i-”, he laughs, covering his face with his hand, “probably. yeah. definitely”

“poor things”, you say teasing, “having to wait”

he groans, laughing again as he walks towards the door, “you’re evil”

“you love it”

he pauses at the door, looking back at you with a soft smile that lingers just a little too long.

“i can’t wait to see you later”, he says quietly. 

then he slips out, closing the door behind him, leaving you stretched out on the bed, warm, smiling. you stretch out against the sheets, your chest still rising a little faster than usual. you stare up at the ceiling, letting everything sink in - how surreal it is, how indulgent, how wanted you feel, how good it feels.

your fingers slide up into your hair, combing through it slowly, grounding yourself. you’re smiling without even realising it.

then you hear the quiet click of the door opening and closing again. you turn your head to see felix, his boxers not hiding his bulge, his hair a little messy, his eyes bright the moment they land on you. he doesn’t hesitate, he just smiles, wide and unmistakably fond.

“hi”, he says softly.

“hi, felix”, you reply, warmth blooming in your chest.

he crosses the room in a few easy steps and climbs onto the bed beside you, settling comfortably at your side. you’re on your back, and he turns towards you, resting on his elbows, his face hovering close. before you can say anything else, he leans in and presses a quick, sweet peck to your lips. it’s light, playful, and you laugh immediately. 

“you’re in a good mood”

“of course i am”, he grins.

you tilt your head, amused, “you guys definitely heard us, didn’t you?”

he lets out a quiet laugh, his nose scrunching a little. 

“yeah”, he admits easily, “we did”

“poor you”, you tease him, “having to wait out there”

“mmhm, i don’t know”, he says, leaning in to kiss you again, another quick peck, then another, “i kinda liked it”

“you did?”

“yeah”, he says, his voice warm and honest, “i knew i’d get my turn soon, so hearing you?”, he shrugs lightly, smiling, “it just turned me on even more”

you laugh again, your hand drifting to his shoulder as he moves to kiss you between words, “you’re unbelievable”

his forehead rests against yours for a moment, both of you breathing the same air, smiling like this is the easiest thing in the world. then he shifts closer, his body aligning more fully with yours, the playful energy mellowing into something deeper.

his next kiss isn’t rushed, but it’s fuller, his mouth moving slowly against yours, his lips warm and sure. one hand slides to your side, steady and affectionate, holding you there as the kiss lingers. when he pulls back to look at you, his eyes are soft but intent.

“you have no idea how long i’ve wanted this”, he says quietly.

your pulse skips and before you can answer, he leans in again, kissing you deeper this time, less laughter now, more intention, his warmth settling over you. his tongue slips inside your mouth, tasting you slowly, exploring with a tenderness that contrasts the growing urgency building between you.

you melt into it, your body arching slightly off the bed as the kiss intensifies. a soft hum escapes him, vibrating into your mouth, and you respond with a quiet sigh, your hand sliding up his arm to grip his shoulder. the world narrows to the warmth of his body pressed close, the faint scent of his skin so close to you.

felix shifts then, his elbow digging into the mattress as he moves over you, settling on top of you without crushing you. he’s careful, mindful of not overwhelming you, but the solid press of his body pins you gently to the sheets. 

you part your legs instinctively, making room for him, and he sinks lower, his hips aligning with yours, making you feel the growing hardness inside his boxers. the kiss breaks for a moment as he adjusts, his forehead resting against yours, his eyes dark with desire.

“felix”, you say, your voice breathy, but he silences you with another kiss, this one hungrier, his teeth grazing your lip just enough to send a spark through you. 

his hands roam your body now - one cupping your jaw to hold you steady, the other trailing down your side, his fingers splaying over your ribs before dipping to the curve of your waist. you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer, and he groans softly into your mouth, the sound raw and needy.

the making out turns fervent, your lips sliding wetly, your tongues tangling together desperately. you nip at his upper lip, earning a low chuckle from him that turns into a moan when you suck on his tongue. his body rocks against yours, the friction of his boxers against your bare skin teasing, building a slow burn. your nipples harden against his chest and you whimper into the kiss, your hips lifting to chase more contact.

felix pulls back just enough to trail his mouth along your jaw, peppering kisses there before moving to your neck. his lips are soft at first, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the sensitive skin just below your ear. you tilt your head back, exposing more of your throat, and he takes the invitation, his tongue flicking out to taste the pulse pounding there. 

“you’re so beautiful”, he whispers against your skin, his breath hot, before he latches on gently, sucking with enough pressure to draw a loud moan from your lips.

the sound echoes in the room, unrestrained, and it spurs him on. his teeth graze the spot, firm enough to mark, leaving a blooming red spot. one hand comes up to tilt your head further, while his other hand slides lower, skimming over your stomach to your thighs. you gasp as his fingers find your clit, and he circles it slowly, the touch light but deliberate.

“felix- oh my god”, you moan out loud again, the noise tearing from your throat as he sucks another mark into your neck, right where your collarbone meets your shoulder. 

his thumb presses firmer on your clit, rubbing in small, tight circles that make your hips buck up against his hand. pleasure coils tight in your core, sharp and insistent, and you clutch at his back, your nails digging into his skin.

he doesn’t stop at your clit for long. after a few moments of teasing that have you panting, his fingers dip lower, tracing your folds before pushing one inside you. your cunt clenches around it, wet and eager, and he adds a second finger easily, curling them to stroke that sensitive spot deep within. 

the stretch is perfect, filling you just enough to ache for more, and he moves them slowly, his thumb flicking over your clit. all the while, his mouth devours your neck, alternating between sucking bruises and licking soothing paths over them, marking you as his in this moment.

your moans grow louder, uninhibited, filling the room as waves of heat build under your skin. you’re well aware of the others now, standing outside in the living room and how they can all hear you. you’re sure all of them must be hard and turned on at this point, and if you’re being completely honest, the idea turns you on even more than you should admit. 

felix lifts his head, his lips shiny and swollen, his eyes locked on where his fingers disappear inside you. he watches intently, transfixed, as your cunt grips him, slick sounds accompanying each thrust of his hand. 

“fuck, look at that”, he breathes, his voice low and husky, laced with awe and want, “you’re taking my fingers so well... you’re so wet and tight for me. i-it’s driving me insane, y/n”

his words wash over you like fire, the soft dirty talk in that sweet tone making your arousal spike. your walls flutter around his fingers, and you feel yourself getting even wetter, the praise hitting every nerve. 

“felix, please”, you whine, your hips rolling to meet his hand, chasing the building pressure, “it’s too much... i-i need you”

he groans at your plea, his eyes darkening further as he leans in to capture your mouth again, the kiss messy and deep, all tongue and shared breaths. his fingers slow inside you, then still, and he pulls them out with a wet slide that makes you whimper in protest. but before you can complain, he brings them to your lips, hovering there expectantly. 

“taste yourself”, he says against your mouth, his voice suddenly rough with want, “suck them clean for me”

you don’t hesitate, parting your lips to take his fingers in, your tongue swirling around them as you look up at him. the tangy flavor of your arousal floods your mouth and you hollow your cheeks, sucking eagerly while maintaining eye contact. felix’s breath hitches, his pupils blowing wide as he watches, a shudder running through him. 

“god, that’s so hot”, he says, pulling his fingers free with a pop before crashing his lips against yours in a quick, fierce kiss. he tastes you on your tongue, moaning into it, the sound vibrating straight to your core, “you turn me on so much... i can’t believe how perfect you are”

the kiss breaks, and you spread your legs wider, planting your feet flat on the bed to tilt your hips up for better access. his hard cock presses against your cunt through the fabric, thick and insistent. he rocks forward experimentally, grinding down, and you both moan at the friction, the way his length slides along your folds, catching on your clit with each pass.

“yes, just like that”, you gasp, wrapping your legs around his waist loosely, pulling him closer. 

the dry humping starts slow, his hips rolling in a steady rhythm that has his cock dragging over your sensitive skin, the boxers growing damp from your combined arousal. felix braces himself on his forearms, caging you in, his face buried in the crook of your neck as he thrusts against you, his breaths coming in hot pants against your ear.

you moan into his hair, your fingers tangling there, urging him on as the pressure builds again. his movements pick up, more insistent, the head of his cock nudging your entrance through his boxers with every grind, teasing what you want and need. 

“felix... it feels so good”, you say, your voice muffled against his hair. 

he lifts his head, capturing your lips in a sloppy kiss, your tongues sliding as your bodies move together, moans spilling into each other’s mouths - yours high and needy, his deep and rumbling.

the closeness is intoxicating, your skin slick with sweat, your hearts pounding in sync as you hump against him desperately, chasing that edge. your clit throbs with each slide of his cock, pleasure coiling tighter, and felix’s groans grow louder, his hips stuttering just a bit as he fights for control. you’re both lost in it, your breaths mingling, moans vibrating against lips that barely part.

just when you’re about to break, felix stops abruptly, pulling back from the grind that had you both teetering on the edge. you whine in frustration, your body throbbing with unmet need, your cunt aching from the denied release. 

“why did you stop?”, you ask, your voice breathless and edged with desperation, your hands clutching at his shoulders as you try to pull him back down.

he hovers over you, his eyes dark and intense, a soft smile tugging at his swollen lips despite the strain in his expression. 

“because i need you now”, he says, the words rough with want, his breath fanning hot over your face. before you can respond, he leans in and kisses you fiercely, his tongue claiming your mouth one more time, making you dizzy.

felix breaks the kiss with a groan, and his hands hook into the waistband of his boxers, shoving them down and off in one swift motion, freeing his cock. it springs up, thick and hard, the tip flushed red and glistening with precum, veins pulsing along the length. 

he kicks the fabric aside and shifts back, lying down fully on the bed, his head hitting the pillows as he stretches out, his body tense with anticipation. his cock stands rigid against his stomach, inviting, and he reaches for you with both hands. 

“come here”, he says, his voice low and husky.

confusion flickers through you at first but he doesn’t give you time to overthink. his hands grip your waist, pulling you up and moving you with gentle firmness. he turns you around so your back faces him, guiding your body until you’re straddling his hips in reverse, your knees sinking into the mattress on either side of him. you settle onto his stomach, his cock right in front of you, hard and insistent. 

the position feels exposed, vulnerable, your cunt hovering near him, slick and empty. you hesitate, glancing over your shoulder at him, a flush creeping up your neck. 

“felix... i’ve never done it like this before”, you admit softly, uncertainty lacing your words. 

the angle is new - him flat on his back, you facing away, controlling the depth but not able to see his face. it makes your heart race, a mix of nerves and excitement twisting in your gut. his hands slide up your thighs reassuringly, his thumbs stroking soothing circles into your skin. 

“it’s okay, y/n”, he says, his voice warm and steady, again full of that sunshine confidence that eases your doubts, “i’ve got you. just go slow at first, lower yourself onto me when you’re ready. it will feel amazing, i promise. do you trust me?” 

his tone is tender, encouraging, and you nod, biting your lip as the reassurance melts away the last of your hesitation. you turn your attention forward, your eyes dropping to his cock, so close now that you can feel its heat radiating up to your core. it’s thicker than you expected up close like this, the head leaking steadily, and a fresh wave of arousal pulses through you. 

unable to resist, you wrap your fingers around the base, feeling him twitch in your grip. your hand strokes him slowly at first, up and down, your thumb swiping over the slit to spread the slick precum. felix moans deeply, the sound rumbling from his chest, his hips bucking up slightly into your touch. 

“f-fuck, yes... keep going”, he breathes, his voice strained, his hands tightening on your hips as you pump him firmer. the way he throbs in your hand makes your cunt clench emptily, wetness trickling down your thighs onto his stomach.

after a few more strokes that have him groaning louder, you guide him to your entrance. the head nudges against your folds, parting them easily, and you sink down slowly. his cock stretches you open, filling you completely in this new angle, the thickness pressing against your walls in ways that knock the air out of your lungs. 

“oh god, felix”, you moan, your voice breaking as you bottom out, seated fully on him.

he echoes your moan, a deep, guttural sound that vibrates through both of you. 

“you’re so tight... it feels incredible”, he says, his hands roaming up your back to steady you. 

you pause there, adjusting to the fullness, the way his cock hits deeper from below, rubbing spots that send sparks up your spine. then you start to move, lifting your hips and dropping back down, riding him in a slow, experimental rhythm. wet sounds fill the room as your cunt grips him on every thrust, arousal coating his shaft and dripping onto his stomach.

felix lets you set the pace at first, his breaths coming in sharp bursts, but soon he props himself up on one elbow, just enough to reach around your body. one hand finds your breast, cupping it before pinching your nipple between his fingers, rolling it gently at first, then tugging harder to match your building speed. 

“you’re doing so well”, he praises you, his voice husky and sweet, sending shivers down your spine. 

then he sits up a bit more, his other hand snaking lower, his fingers finding your clit swollen and sensitive. he rubs it in firm circles, syncing with your bounces, the sensations overwhelming. overstimulation hits you like a wave, because your body is already primed from the dry humping, the fingering, everything before, and now this. 

pleasure borders on too much, sharp and unrelenting, making your thighs quiver. you can’t hold yourself upright anymore and with a cry, you lean forward, bracing your hands on his knees for leverage, your ass lifting higher as you grind down harder. 

the new angle drives his cock even deeper, the head dragging against your spot relentlessly, and you feel yourself dripping more, slickness soaking his skin and the sheet, the wetness audible with every slap of your bodies.

“look at you, taking me so perfectly”, felix says, his praise soft and adoring, his breath hot against your back as he sits up more to maintain contact, “you’re gripping me like you never want to let go... you’re so wet for me, you’re making me feel so good” 

his words make you moan, heightening the intimacy, making your walls flutter around him. his fingers don’t let up on your clit, pinching lightly now, while his other hand kneads your breast, his thumb flicking the nipple in time with your movements.

you ride him faster, your hips snapping down, the coil in your stomach tightening unbearably. your moans spill from your lips unchecked, high and desperate, mingling with his deeper groans as he thrusts up to meet you, the bed creaking under the force. 

“felix- i’m c-close, don’t stop”, you gasp, your nails digging into his knees, your body trembling as the overstimulation pushes you towards the edge.

“i’m right there with you”, he says, his voice breaking on a moan, his hand pressing harder on your clit. the praise keeps coming, sweet and filthy, “come for me, let me feel you squeeze my cock... you’re so beautiful like this, all mine now” 

it tips you over, your orgasm crashes through you, your cunt convulsing wildly around him, milking his length as waves of ecstasy rip from your core. you cry out, your body shaking, and felix follows seconds later, his cock pulsing deep inside as he spills his cum into you, groaning your name.

exhausted, you collapse, your breaths ragged as aftershocks ripple through you. felix falls back to the bed with a satisfied sigh, his hands still gently caressing your thighs, both of you spent and connected in the hazy glow of release.

felix notices the way your body stays folded forward, your breath still uneven, and immediately reaches for you. 

“sunshine”, he says softly, brushing his thumb over your thigh, “come here”

his hands slide to your sides, steady and gentle, sliding out of you and guiding you carefully until you’re lying beside him instead. you let yourself sink into the mattress next to him, turning onto your side. he mirrors you instantly, close enough that your knees brush, his forehead leaning against yours. the intensity has faded a bit, your bodies still humming but relaxed now.

he kisses you softly, slow and unhurried, full of affection. nothing rushed. nothing demanding. you smile into the kiss, letting out a quiet laugh.

“okay, i have to say… i really liked that”, you admit, your cheeks warm.

his eyes brighten immediately, “yeah?”

you nod, “yeah, i didn’t know i’d like it that much”

his laugh is light, “good. i mean-”, he ducks his head a little, kissing you again, “i’m glad”

you keep kissing between sentences, lazy and affectionate, your fingers tracing idle patterns along his arm.

“you were really good”, you say.

he scoffs softly, “you’re biased”

“i’m not”, you insist, kissing him again, “you know i’m a very honest person”

he hums, pretending to consider it, then sighs against your lips. 

“i know i have to go”, he says reluctantly, “but i really don’t want to”

you laugh, resting your forehead against his, “i figured you’d say that”

he pulls back just long enough to grab his boxers, slipping them on slowly, still stealing kisses whenever he leans back towards you. one last kiss, longer than the rest, before he straightens. at the door, he pauses, turning back with that familiar bright smile and a playful glint in his eyes.

“you know”, he says casually, “if you ever want to try more positions…”

you raise a brow.

“you just have to call me”, he finishes, winking.

you laugh, biting your lip as he laughs too.

“save some energy”, he adds lightly, “i’ll see you later”

the door closes behind him, leaving you alone again, warmth still lingering, your smile slow and thoughtful as you stare at the ceiling. the sheets are rumpled beneath you, carrying the imprint of everything that’s already happened today.

four.

the thought hits you suddenly, almost dizzying. you’ve already had four of them. and there are still four more waiting.

it’s indulgent. unreal. intoxicating. you let out a quiet laugh, one hand sliding over your stomach as you stare up at the ceiling. you’re still not used to this, this fully immersed in desire that doesn’t ask you to hold back. and you know it should scare you but, instead of fading, the excitement builds.

your breath grows a little heavier as anticipation creeps in again, the knowledge that you’re not done, that this is still stretching out in front of you. the way each boy has touched you differently, looked at you differently, wanted you in their own way.

your thighs close instinctively, and you close your eyes for a second, letting the sensation roll through you. you’re still sensitive, still warm, still very aware of your own body and how easily it responds, how you’re still dripping and clenching your thighs.

“this is insane”, you murmur to yourself, your voice soft.

but you’re smiling.

eventually, you push yourself upright, reaching for the tissues on your nightstand again. you move slowly, carefully, taking a moment to clean yourself up. every small movement reminds you of where you are, what you’re doing, how much more there is still to come. you toss the used tissues away and settle back against the pillows, your fingers combing through your hair as you take a steadying breath.

then the door opens and you turn your head just as han steps inside. he freezes for half a second when he sees you there - flushed, relaxed, lying there for him, the sheet barely covering your lower half - and then his lips curl into a familiar, crooked smile.

“hey”, he says, his voice warm, his eyes already bright with anticipation.

you smile at him before you even think about it, “hey yourself”

han closes the door behind him and crosses the room with an easy confidence, his boxers covering his growing bulge. he climbs onto the bed without asking, flopping down beside you on his side, propping himself up on one elbow so he can look at you properly.

“wow”, he says, grinning, “you look… very well taken care of. what? did someone do something to you?”

you snort, “don’t act like you weren’t listening”

“okay, yeah”, he laughs, “maybe i was”

you turn onto your side to face him, the sheet sliding but staying in place on your waist, your knees brushing his thigh. his eyes flicker down for half a second before meeting yours again, amused and very aware.

there’s a beat of comfortable silence, just the two of you smiling at each other like this is the most natural thing in the world. then you tilt your head, feigning innocence.

“so”, you say, your hand sliding up his chest, “it’s just you this time, right?”

his brows lift, “what do you mean?”

“you know exactly what i mean”, you say, “last time you brought help. ice. tricks. surprises”

he laughs, shaking his head, “oh come one, i just did what the wheel said”

“i know”, you say, “so… should i be bracing myself?”

he leans in a little closer, lowering his voice just enough to make your pulse skip.

“don’t worry”, he says, “you’ll find my body is more than enough to have you screaming and dripping for me”

you scoff softly, but your smile gives you away, “that’s a big claim, jisung”

he smirks, “you doubting me?”

you inch closer, your nose almost brushing his, “i might need some convincing”

his eyes darken and that quiet, confident shift is enough to make your thighs clench, feeling yourself already dripping for him like he said.

“i’m very good at convincing”, he says.

you laugh, your breath a little unsteady now, “you’re so sure of yourself”

“only with you”

the words land harder than expected, and the teasing slows. his hand drifts to your waist, resting there casually, like it belongs there, and you don’t move it away.

“careful there”, you say, “you’re starting to sound dangerous”

he leans closer, his forehead brushing yours, “you’re letting all of us have our way with you because you also want it… i think you like dangerous, y/n”

maybe you do.

your fingers hook lightly into the waistband of his boxers, pulling just a bit, but it’s more suggestion than action. his breath hitches, just barely, and you smile.

“still think your body is enough?”, you whisper.

his answer is simple. he kisses you, unhurried at first, but when you kiss him back, it deepens naturally, teasing giving way to intention. his hand tightens slightly on your waist, grounding, steady, confident without forcing anything. your fingers curl into his side as you shift closer, your bodies aligning easily.

when he pulls back just enough to look at you, you try to follow his lips, not wanting to break the kiss just yet. he sees you trying to kiss him again and he smiles, darker this time.

“told you”, he murmurs.

and then he kisses you again, slower, deeper, the playful energy no longer there, disappearing into something undeniably heated. the pace quickens, han presses closer, his mouth claiming yours with more insistence, nipping at your lower lip before soothing it with a swipe of his tongue. your hands slide up his chest to tangle in his hair, pulling him deeper into the kiss. 

his mouth trails from your lips, ghosting along your jawline before finding the sensitive skin of your neck. he sucks gently at first, his teeth grazing just enough to send sparks down your spine, then harder, marking you with a blooming bruise that makes you arch into him. 

“you’re mine for now”, he whispers against your skin, his voice low and deep, the vibration humming through you. 

you tilt your head to give him better access, your own lips seeking out his neck in retaliation, kissing the pulse point there, then biting down softly, sucking until a faint red mark appears. han groans, the sound muffled against your throat, his body shifting as he rolls you both, pinning you beneath him. his weight settles over you, his hips aligning with yours, the thin barrier of his boxers doing little to hide how hard he is, pressing insistently against you.

you feel powerful even under him, your hands roaming down his back, your nails scraping over the muscles that flex under your touch. your fingers hook into the waistband of his boxers, tugging them down and exposing the curve of his ass before sliding them lower. 

han lifts his hips just enough to help you, kicking them off without breaking his rhythm on your neck, sucking harder now, his tongue licking the mark he’s leaving, a possessive edge to it that makes your cunt clench with need. you moan loudly, the sound echoing in your room, raw and unfiltered. 

“fuck, jisung”, you moan, your body writhing beneath him, your thighs parting instinctively to cradle his naked form.

he chuckles against your skin, pulling back just enough to admire his work, a red mark blooming along your collarbone. 

“already moaning like that? baby, i haven’t even started”, he teases you, his voice husky, his breath fanning hot over the marks he’s created, “you sound so desperate for me, y/n. i bet you’re soaking just from a little kissing” 

his words make you squirm, your hands gripping his shoulders as you try to pull him back down. but he hovers there, smirking, his eyes locked on yours as his hands explore your body. 

his fingers skim over the swell of your breasts, cupping them lightly without touching the hardened nipples that ache for attention, his thumbs hovering just at the edges. he moves lower, his hands splaying across your waist before sliding down to your thighs, parting them wider but never venturing inward. 

the teasing is deliberate, agonising, his touch everywhere except where the heat pools hottest between your legs, where your clit throbs untouched and your entrance begs for friction. you whimper, your hips bucking up seeking more, the denial building a frustrating ache that has you begging. 

“jisung, please... t-touch me”, you plead, your voice breaking on the words, your body trembling under his deliberate restraint.

he silences you with another kiss, deep and consuming, as he swallows your whines. when he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, his eyes half-lidded and intense. 

“shh, be patient, baby”, he says, his hand still stroking your outer thigh, “i told you my body’s all you need. let me show you how crazy i can make you without rushing” 

his tone sends a fresh gush of arousal slicking your folds, but he doesn’t relent, his touches remain feather-light and maddeningly avoidant. he shifts lower, his lips following the path his hands have traced. he kisses along your collarbone, then down to your chest, hovering over one breast. 

his tongue circles the nipple slowly, teasing without quite touching, his breath hot and teasing until you arch up with a frustrated groan. then he closes his mouth over it, sucking firmly while his teeth graze the sensitive flesh, biting just hard enough to draw a sharp gasp from you. 

his other hand mirrors the attention on your other breast, his fingers pinching and rolling the nipple between them, tugging in time with the pull of his mouth. pleasure shoots straight to your core, making your cunt flutter emptily, wetness coating your inner thighs as you writhe beneath him.

satisfied with the marks he’s left there, he continues downward, his tongue flicking out to lick a wet trail over your stomach. his eyes never leave yours, dark and hungry, holding your gaze as he dips into your navel, then lower still, savoring the way your body quiver under his touch. that unwavering eye contact makes your cheeks burn, but you can’t look away. he reaches the tops of your thighs, licking the sensitive skin there, his lips brushing kisses along the crease where leg meets hip.

he moves to the inside of one thigh, his teeth nipping playfully at the tender flesh, sucking another faint mark into existence just inches from where you need him most. his breath ghosts over your folds, so close you can feel the warmth, your clit pulsing in anticipation, but he pulls away deliberately, switching to the other thigh. he repeats the torment - kissing, licking, biting - drawing out the tease until your hips move, seeking his mouth. 

“jisung, god, p-please… j-just touch me there”, you beg him, your voice high and desperate, your hands fisting the sheets as frustration coils tight in your stomach.

he pauses, looking up at you with a wicked smile, his chin resting on your thigh. 

“see? just my mouth, nothing else, and you’re already begging like this”, he says, his voice rough with his own arousal, his eyes flicking down to where you’re glistening for him, “imagine what it’ll feel like when i finally give you what you want” 

the words are a taunt, but there’s a playful edge that only heightens the ache. before you can respond, he dives in, his tongue flat and broad as it licks a slow stripe up your folds, tasting your arousal with a hum of approval. 

“you’re so sweet”, he murmurs against you, then circles your clit with the tip of his tongue, flicking it lightly before sucking gently.

you cry out, your hips bucking as waves of pleasure crash over you. he doesn’t hold back now, his mouth working you over with focused intent, his tongue delving into your entrance to lap at the slickness there, then returning to your clit. 

your hands fly to his hair, gripping tight as you grind against his face, almost riding him in your desperation. he groans into you, the vibration sending shocks through your core, his hands pinning your thighs wider to devour you deeper, his nose bumping your clit as his tongue thrusts inside.

but just as the coil winds unbearably tight, your moans turning frantic, han pulls back abruptly, his lips shiny with you. you whine in protest, but he crawls up, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss. you taste yourself on him, fueling your hunger as your fingers tighten in his hair, pulling him closer. he settles between your legs, his cock heavy and leaking against your thigh, the tip nudging your entrance as he grinds once, twice, teasing the stretch without entering.

he positions himself, about to thrust in, when his eyes catch something on the wall - the full-length mirror, reflecting the scene in vivid detail, your flushed body arched beneath him, his muscles taut as he hovers, the raw intimacy captured from the side. 

his gaze locks on the mirror, the reflection capturing every flushed inch of your body splayed beneath him, his own form hovering with restrained hunger. the sight pulls a low groan from his throat, but he freezes just as his cock nudges your entrance without pushing in. you feel him pausing, your body clenching around nothing, desperate for the fill you’ve been craving since his mouth left you trembling.

“jisung please”, you beg him, your voice cracking as frustration and need crash over you. 

your hands clutch at his shoulders, pulling him down with all your strength. your hips buck up instinctively, trying to draw him in, but he holds back. tears of overwhelming want prick at your eyes, your breaths coming in shaky sobs as you writhe beneath him. 

“i need you inside me now. fuck, i can’t wait anymore” 

the words tumble out raw and unfiltered, your cunt throbbing with emptiness, slick dripping down your thighs. han’s eyes soften for a split second, dark with desire, but he just dips his head, capturing your lips in a deep, soothing kiss that steals your breath. his tongue strokes yours lazily, contrasting the urgency of your pleas, grounding you even as it stokes the fire. 

when he pulls back, his hands are gentle but firm on your hips, moving you onto your hands and knees, the sheets bunching under your palms as he positions you in front of the mirror, your reflection staring back with wide, needy eyes and lips swollen from his kisses.

he kneels behind you, his cock heavy and leaking against your inner thigh, sliding through your folds once to coat himself in your wetness. he bends forward, his chest pressing to your back, his mouth hot against your ear. one hand tangles in your hair, tilting your head so you’re forced to meet your own gaze in the mirror. 

“look at yourself”, he says, his voice a rough whisper that sends shivers racing over your skin, “see how fucking beautiful you are right now? on your knees for me, begging like this, dripping for my cock. you’re perfect, y/n, god, i could watch you like this forever”

the words hit hard, vulnerability mixing with the heat as you watch yourself in the mirror, the raw need etched on your face making your core clench tighter. you whimper, pushing back against him, but he holds your hips steady, drawing out the tease. 

“jisung, please…i need it, i-i need you”, your voice is a whine, your body trembling on all fours, the mirror amplifying every quiver, every bead of sweat trailing down your spine.

finally, he straightens just enough, gripping your hips as the tip of his cock presses to your entrance, parting the slick folds before he thrusts in, stretching you open. you cry out, your eyes locked on the mirror as you watch him disappear inside you, the sight filthy and intoxicating as he bottoms out with a groan. 

“fuck, so tight for me”, he says, his voice strained as he starts to move, pulling out halfway before slamming back in, setting a steady rhythm that has your breasts bouncing, your arms shaking.

you can’t tear your eyes away from the reflection, the visual of him fucking you from behind, his abs flexing with each thrust, his hands gripping your hips, pushing you higher. 

“that’s it, baby, look how good you take me”, han says, leaning forward to nip at your shoulder, his pace quickening, “so pretty like this. you’re made for me, aren’t you?” 

his words fuel the fire, each praise sending jolts straight to your core, your walls fluttering around him as he drives deeper, the wet sounds of skin slapping skin filling the room. he doesn’t let up, thrusting harder now, the head of his cock hits that spot inside you with every thrust, making stars burst behind your eyelids, but you force yourself to watch, to see the pleasure twisting your features, the way your mouth falls open in silent screams. 

“jisung- oh god, yes, right there”, you moan, pushing back to meet him, the mirror showing the perfect sync of your bodies colliding.

then, he pulls you up with him, your back flush against his chest. his arm moves around your waist, holding you steady as he stays seated inside you, the new position letting him rub his cock against your walls from a different angle. both of you face the mirror now, the reflection even more intimate - your legs spread wide, your breasts heaving, his free hand roaming possessively over your skin. 

“look at us”, he says against your neck, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, “so fucking hot together. see how i fill you up? you’re glowing for me”

his hand cups one breast, his fingers pinching and rolling the nipple until you arch into his touch, a moan escaping your lips. the other hand dips lower, his fingers finding your clit, circling it firmly, then flicking in time with his thrusts as he picks up speed again. the stimulation is overwhelming, pleasure coiling tight in your stomach, your cunt squeezing him.

“fuck, jisung, i’m so close”, you whimper, your head falling back against his shoulder, but he turns your chin gently, forcing your eyes to the mirror.

you turn your head instead, seeking his mouth, crashing your lips against his in a messy, desperate kiss. your tongues tangle as you moan into him, the vibrations humming through both of you, his thrusts never faltering. he swallows your cries, biting your lower lip before releasing, both of you panting as you break apart. 

“eyes on the mirror, baby, watch me make you come”, he tells you, his voice raspy, and you obey, locking gazes with your reflections - his intense stare over your shoulder, your own eyes wide and glassy.

the sight tips you over - his fingers pressing harder on your clit, the others pinching your nipple, his cock slamming inside you as your bodies move in perfect, heated unison. you come first, shattering around him with a scream. it’s intense, harder than before, a gush of wetness squirting out around his cock - not a flood, but enough to soak his thighs and the sheets below, the mirror capturing the way your body trembles, your cunt pulsing visibly. han follows seconds later, groaning your name as he buries deep, hot spurts of cum flooding you, his hips jerking erratically through the aftershocks.

your eyes stay connected in the reflection, the shared vulnerability in that gaze prolonging your highs, your bodies locked together as you ride it out. he softens inside you, but doesn’t pull out yet - instead, he dips his head to your neck, his lips latching on to suck a fresh mark into the skin, his teeth grazing as he marks you one last time. the sensation draws a final shiver from you, oversensitive and spent. 

“you’re so beautiful when you come for me”, he says, his voice tender now, laced with awe.

with a shared sigh, he eases you both down, collapsing onto the bed in a tangle of limbs - him spooning you from behind, his cock slipping free with a wet sound, his cum trickling down your thighs. you nestle back into him, his arm draping over your waist, pulling you closer.

han stays wrapped around you for a moment longer, his breathing slowly evening out against your back. then, carefully, like he’s afraid to jostle you too much, he shifts.

“hey”, he says softly. 

he guides you with gentle hands, turning you until you’re lying on your back, the sheets cool beneath you. he hovers over you briefly, his eyes scanning your face with an uncharacteristic seriousness.

“you good?”, he asks quietly, “i didn’t- i mean, tell me you’re okay”

you answer by tugging him down instead, your fingers curling into his hair as you kiss him. it’s not rushed or hungry now, it’s just warm and lingering, reassuring. he melts into it instantly, a small laugh escaping him against your mouth.

“okay”, he says, kissing you again, “i’ll take that as a yes”

“i’m more than okay”, you murmur between kisses, pulling him closer when he tries to lift his head, “don’t overthink it”

he exhales, relief softening his expression, “okay”, he says, half amused, half fond.

he steals another kiss, slower this time, before finally rolling onto his side and reaching for his boxers. he pulls them on, still glancing at you like he’s not quite ready to leave yet. he leans in and kisses you again, just before he stands up and goes to the door. at the door, he pauses, his fingers resting on the handle, then looks back with a playful glint in his eyes.

“hey, y/n”, he says, “don’t use the mirror with the next one”

you raise an eyebrow, deciding to tease him a bit, “or what?”

he scoffs lightly, trying to appear mad but smiling. 

“or i’ll get jealous”, he laughs, then adds, “no, seriously, that was-”, he gestures vaguely, then shakes his head with a laugh, “it wouldn’t be fair” 

you laugh too, the sound warm and loose, “no promises”

he groans softly, shaking his head as he opens the door, “you’re dangerous”

“you’re the one that came up with that idea”

he smiles one last time before slipping out, the door closing quietly behind him. you sit up slowly, the sheet sliding down your body, which still hums, your skin warm, marked by the memory of his hands, his voice, the way he looked at you. and not only han, also the ones that came before him.

you run a hand through your hair, letting out a slow breath. you shift closer to the centre of the bed, the sheets sliding softly beneath you as you reposition yourself until the mirror is fully in view again. the sight of your reflection makes your breath catch.

you barely recognise yourself - your hair mussed, your skin flushed, your lips swollen from kisses that haven’t quite faded yet. faint marks bloom across your body, proof of everything that’s happened today. you look touched. claimed. wanted. desired.

your chest rises and falls a little faster as you take it all in. there’s something intoxicating about seeing it, about seeing yourself like this. undone and glowing, your eyes a little glassy, your posture loose in the aftermath of pleasure. the mirror doesn’t let you hide from it, and you don’t want to.

the heat curls low in your body again, slow and insistent, a now familiar warmth spreading as anticipation builds again. you swallow, your thighs shifting slightly beneath the sheet, your body reacting before your mind can catch up.

your fingers lift without thinking, tracing the line of your jaw, then brushing over your lips. they feel sensitive, still tingling. you press them together gently, remembering how they were kissed, bitten, licked, murmured into just moments ago. the thought alone makes your stomach tighten.

you tilt your head, studying your reflection again, watching the way your body responds, how your breathing changes, how your posture softens into something open and inviting without you meaning it to.

and then the door opens again.

you don’t look away from the mirror right away. you hear the soft click of it closing again, footsteps crossing the room, unhurried, stopping beside the bed and only then do you turn your head.

seungmin stands there, wearing nothing but his boxers. his gaze lands on you instantly, on the way you’re stretched across the bed, on the marks you haven’t bothered to hide, on the way you’re looking at yourself in the mirror and then at him.

for a split second, he just stares at you. then his lips part slightly, and he exhales a quiet, almost disbelieving breath.

“wow”, he says softly.

“come here”, you say, it’s not an order, not quite, but it lands like one anyway.

seungmin barely has time to react before you’re moving. you rise onto your knees on the bed, the sheet completely forgotten at this point, and grab him by the shoulders, pulling him into you. your mouths meet in a kiss that’s immediate and unrestrained, all heat and urgency.

his hands come up instinctively, gripping your waist, his fingers digging in. the kiss deepens, your bodies knocking together as he steps closer, caught completely off guard by your energy.

“wow, what-”, he says again against your mouth, half a laugh, half disbelief, but he doesn’t pull away, you don’t give him the chance.

using more strength than you realise you still have, you guide him down with you, moving until your back meets the mattress and you pull him over you. he braces himself on his forearms just in time, hovering above you, his eyes dark and searching as your lips find his again.

the kiss turns slower here, heavier, deliberate. your hands slide up his back, holding him there. he kisses you back with growing hunger, need bleeding into every movement, until he stops. he pulls back just enough to look at you, his forehead resting against yours, his breath uneven.

“okay”, he says quietly, “i’m not complaining about this, but-”, his thumb brushes your side, grounding you, “what has gotten into you?”

you try to kiss him again, chasing his mouth, but he pauses you with a gentle touch to your cheek.

“hey”, he says, “come on, talk to me”

you lean into his hand instead, your eyes soft but intense.

“i just-”, you exhale shakily, “i just need you close right now. i want you here, with me”

something shifts in his expression, surprise melting into warmth, into something protective and real. he kisses you then, deeper this time, slower but no less intense. his lips move against yours with purpose, like he’s grounding both of you through the contact. his hand stays firm on your waist, steady, reassuring. when he pulls back, his voice is low, careful.

“how is it going?”, he says, his eyes searching yours, “how are you holding up after… everything?”

you stop kissing him, really stop this time, and look at him properly. he’s still hovering over you, still warm, still close, but now there’s space for words. your hands rest on his shoulders, your thumbs brushing his skin as you speak.

“i’m okay”, you say softly, “better than okay, just… a bit overwhelmed, but in a good way, don’t worry”

his brows knit slightly, a bit of concern still there, “you sure?”

“yeah”, you nod, “it’s intense. all of it. but i like how it makes me feel”

you meet his eyes and his expression softens completely.

“okay”, he says quietly, “i was just checking, there’s no rush, just do whatever you want”

seungmin’s lips brush your forehead, lingering there before he trails softer kisses across your face - first to one cheek, then the other, each press light and tender, warming the skin flushed from earlier. he dots a quick one on the tip of your nose, drawing a small, surprised giggle from you that breaks the tension just enough. his eyes crinkle at the edges with gentle amusement, but there’s heat building underneath, a subtle shift as his mouth finds yours once more.

this kiss starts tender but it deepens quickly, mouths opening to let tongues meet in slow, exploratory strokes. his hand cups the side of your face, his thumb tracing your jawline, while the other stays on your waist, pulling you closer. your fingers thread into his hair, tugging lightly to angle him better, and the need becomes even bigger, kisses turning hungrier, breaths mingling hot and ragged.

you roll your hips experimentally, pressing your core against the growing hardness in his boxers, and he groans low into your mouth. you break away just long enough to move him - your hands push at his shoulders, guiding him until his back hits the headboard with a soft thud. he lets you, a surprised huff escaping him as you straddle his lap, your knees bracketing his thighs, your bare skin brushing his clothed one.

“careful there”, he says, his voice husky but laced with concern, his hands settling on your hips to steady you, “you good? not pushing too hard after... everything?”

you nod, leaning in to capture his lips again, but not before a shared laugh bubbles up as the position settles. 

“i’m perfect”, you whisper against him, and the words seem to reassure him, his grip loosening, his palms sliding up your sides. 

the laughter fades into moans as you kiss him again, deeper this time, your body rocking instinctively against his. you feel him harden fully beneath you, the thick outline of his cock straining against the fabric of his boxers, pressing right up into your slick folds through the barrier.

his moan vibrates against your mouth, low and needy, as you grind down deliberately now, circling your hips to drag your cunt along his length. your clit catches on the ridge of him with each pass, building that familiar ache low in your stomach. 

“fuck”, he breathes, breaking the kiss to tilt his head back slightly, his eyes half-lidded as he watches you move. 

his hands continue moving, one squeezing your ass to encourage you, the other tracing up to cup your breast, his thumb flicking over your nipple until you arch into it with a gasp. your movements grow more insistent, slickness soaking through his boxers as you chase the pressure. 

but you want more, you need more. you trail kisses down his jaw, nipping at the sharp line before moving to his neck. you start sucking a light mark into the skin just below his ear, your tongue soothing the spot as he shudders beneath you.

“god, y/n”, he groans, his head falling to the side to give you better access, “you feel so good like this, k-keep going”

you kiss lower, across his chest, your tongue flicking over one nipple before sucking it briefly.

“if you wanna know why i was like that when you came in, it’s just... with han before, i completely lost it. the mirror… he had me on my knees, watching myself beg for him, and then he fucked me from behind while we stared at each other. and before that, all the others... it’s all so intense”, you pause to bite his nipple lightly, drawing a moan from him, “so i’m feeling extra needy right now, like i can’t get enough. and also, last time, with you... you were so sweet, so soft, the only one that made love to me... so you deserve a reward today, let me take care of you”

seungmin’s breaths come faster, his cock twitching under you as your words sink in, his hips bucking up involuntarily to meet your grinding. 

“f-fuck, hearing that... you’re killing me, and i should be the one doing that”, he says, his fingers tightening in your hair. 

you slide lower, kissing down his body, as your hands hook into the waistband of his boxers, tugging them down. he lifts his hips to help you, kicking them off, until he’s naked beneath you, his cock springing free, thick and veined, the tip already glistening with precum. you settle between his legs, your eyes locked on his as your hand wraps around the base, giving a slow, firm stroke that has him hissing through his teeth. 

“y/n- fuck, yes”, he moans, watching you, anticipation darkening his gaze. 

he thinks you’re going for it, your mouth hovering close, your breath ghosting over the sensitive head, your lips parting just enough to tease. his hand reaches out, his thumb brushing your cheek encouragingly, a silent plea in his eyes.

but at the last second, you pull back, a mischievous glint in your eye as you shake your head. 

“as much as i want to”, you say, your voice low and teasing, pumping him once more to keep the edge sharp, “it wouldn’t be fair to the others. i didn’t do this with any of them, we have to keep it even, you know?”

seungmin’s expression twists into near desperation, a whine escaping him as his hips jerk into your hand. 

“what? no, please y/n- come on, just a little, i-i’ll beg if you want”, his voice cracks on the last word, his cock throbbing in your grip, leaking more as he stares at you with wide, pleading eyes, his chest heaving.

the sight tugs at you, but you hold firm, releasing him with a final squeeze before crawling back up his body. you straddle him again, your chest pressing flush to his, your nipples grazing his skin as you align your hips. his cock nestles hot and heavy against your cunt, sliding through your wetness as you rock once, coating him. 

“maybe another time”, you whisper, leaning in to kiss him softly, reassuringly, your hand guiding his cock to your entrance, “it could be just you and me… no rules, no more wheels. i promise i will suck you off then” 

with that promise hanging in the air, your hips sink down slowly, taking the head of his cock past your entrance in one deliberate motion. the stretch is immediate, your walls fluttering around him as you lower yourself further until he’s fully inside you.

seungmin’s head falls back against the headboard with a thud, a loud, unrestrained moan ripping from his throat as your cunt clenches tight around him, slick and welcoming after all the buildup.

“fuck, y/n”, he gasps, his eyes squeezing shut for a second, his hands on your hips to hold you steady, his fingers digging into the soft flesh there. 

the sound is so desperate, so unfiltered, that it sends a thrill through you, but you lean forward quickly, crashing your mouth against his to muffle the next groan. as you start to move, rolling your hips, he moans again, but this time it’s into your kiss, the sound muffled and intimate. you echo it back, a soft whimper escaping you as his cock drags against your inner walls, hitting that spot deep inside with every shift. 

you lift slightly before dropping back down, taking him deeper each time, while he thrusts up to meet you, the slap of skin on skin starting soft but growing wetter, more insistent. you keep kissing him through it, your mouths never fully parting, your tongues tangling lazily at first, then with more urgency as the pleasure coils tighter. 

“god, you feel amazing”, he says against your lips, his voice breathy and rough, his eyes locked on yours, “so tight around me”

you smile into the next kiss, nipping at his bottom lip before whispering back, “keep talking like that and i’ll ride you all day. you like how i take you?”

“yeah- fuck, yes. don’t stop, y/n. just like that” 

the words spur you on, your pace quickening. you bounce a little harder now, your breasts brushing his chest. sweat beads on his skin, and you can feel your own arousal dripping down, easing the glide as his cock moves in and out.

his hands wander upward from your hips, sliding over the curve of your waist to cup your breasts, his palms warm and possessive. he squeezes them first, his thumbs tugging at your nipples with just enough pressure to make you arch into his touch, a sharp gasp breaking from your throat. 

“you are perfect”, he says, his voice laced with awe and hunger, rolling your nipples between his fingers as you ride him. his words have you moaning louder, your head tipping back briefly.

“keep talking, minnie”, you say, grinding down to feel him bottom out, your clit grinding against him, “tell me how good you feel inside me” 

“so fucking good… you’re gripping me so hard. you like this, huh?”, his moves quicken, making your walls flutter wildly around him. 

you nod frantically, encouraging him, “yes, just like that- d-don’t stop”, your hands on his shoulders as you also pick up speed, the room filling with the sounds of your bodies connecting - wet smacks, heavy breaths, mingled moans.

the tension builds relentlessly, that familiar heat pooling low in your stomach again. you’re both close, you can feel it in the way his thrusts grow erratic, his hips snapping up with more force. 

without thinking, your hand slips between your bodies, your fingers finding your clit, and you start circling it in tight, firm strokes, chasing the release that’s hovering just out of reach. seungmin’s eyes drop to watch you, darkening further at the sight, your fingers working yourself shamelessly while you fuck him, the visual pushing him closer to the brink. 

“holy shit”, he says, unable to tear his gaze away, his chest heaving as he thrusts deeper, “t-that’s so hot, y/n, you touching yourself while i’m inside you. fuck, you’re gonna make me come just from seeing you”

his words hit like a spark, intensifying everything. you lean in, capturing his mouth in a fierce kiss to swallow the next moan, your tongues battling as your circles quicken. he matches your pace, one hand still on your breast, the other gripping your ass to pull you down harder onto his cock. the pressure builds until you finally break, your orgasm crashing over you, your walls spasming around him, a cry muffled against his lips as you come undone.

“i-i’m coming- fuck, y/n”, he mumbles brokenly and then, he breaks too, groaning into the kiss as his cock throbs, spilling hot inside you with deep, stuttering thrusts. 

you ride your highs together, your movements slowing to a grind as the waves subside, your bodies slick and spent. you collapse against him, your forehead to his shoulder, both of you panting. his arms wrap around you immediately, holding you close. you lift your head, meeting his eyes - softer now, but still dark with hunger - and a lazy smile curves your lips. he mirrors it, before he pulls you in for a hungry kiss, slow and deep.

“mmhm”, you hum against him, nipping playfully, and he chuckles softly, chasing your mouth for more - kisses that linger, teasing as you stay connected, unwilling to separate just yet.

the laughter comes first. it slips out of both of you almost at the same time, soft and breathless, like your bodies don’t quite know what to do with all the leftover energy yet. you rest your forehead against his for a moment, still straddling him, the closeness grounding.

“you know”, you say, brushing your thumb along his lips, “the first time we did this, you were way softer”

he lets out a quiet laugh, his head tipping back against the headboard, “was i?”

“mmhm”, you nod, playful and teasing, “all careful, making love to me”, you tilt your head, smiling knowingly, “today though? you were… different”

his eyes flick back to yours, amused, “different how?”

“harder”, you say simply, grin widening, “like you had to prove that you had it in you”

he huffs out a laugh, shaking his head, “guess i’m just full of surprises”

“dangerous ones”, you add.

he groans, his hands sliding to your hips again, his thumbs pressing lightly like he’s tempted to pull you right back into him. instead, he exhales slowly, before he speaks again.

“come here”, he says.

he helps you move, guiding you gently down until you’re lying back against the mattress. he follows you just enough to press a soft kiss to your lips before he slips out of you completely. you feel the space between you as he straightens, the warmth fading as you feel the rest of your fluids dripping down your thighs.

he reaches for his boxers, pulling them on with a lazy kind of reluctance.

“don’t look so smug”, he says, catching your expression.

“i didn’t say anything”

“you didn’t have to”

he moves towards the door, then pauses and turns back. he walks right back to the bed and leans down beside you again, his voice quieter now, teasing but sincere.

“you know… what you said earlier”, he says, “about, you know… sucking me off another time”

you laugh loudly at his words, “seungmin, i wouldn’t have said it if i didn’t mean it”

his lips curve slowly, satisfaction flickering across his face, “good”

he leans in, kisses you one more time, warm and unhurried, and then he pulls back, brushing his thumb over your cheek.

“good luck with the next one”, he says.

you laugh again as he straightens, and you watch him leave the room with one last glance at you over his shoulder.

the door clicks shut and you’re left there, your breath slow, your body tired and overstimulated but still humming. you lie there for a moment after seungmin leaves, the room quiet except for your own breathing. your thoughts tumble over one another - flashes of hands, voices, laughter, the way each of them feel different with you.

it’s almost overwhelming how wanted you feel and even as your body should be completely spent, there’s that familiar, restless pull again, reminding you that you’re far from done.

the door opens again. you turn your head just in time to see changbin step inside, the soft click of the door closing behind him. he’s only wearing his boxers, showing his growing bulge, his expression immediately darkening when his eyes land on you.

“hey”, he says.

“hi, bin”

he doesn’t rush, he just walks to your bed and lies down facing you, the two of you on your sides, close enough that your knees brush. his gaze flicks over your face, attentive, careful.

“how are you holding up?”, he asks quietly, “really, you can tell me”

you smile at him, warmth spreading through your chest, “i’m good, better than good actually”

he hums, like he’s relieved but still keeping watch, like he always does with you, “yeah? you’d tell me if you weren’t, right?”

“always”, you say, reaching out to brush your fingers lightly over his forearm, “you know that”

“okay, good, just wanted to make sure”

there’s a pause, a comfortable one, but still charged. your finger traces higher, slow and deliberate, following the line of his bicep. you feel him moving, getting closer to you, leaning into your touch.

“so”, you say, your eyes meeting his again, “what’s your plan with me tonight?”

his lips curve, something darker setting on his face. you feel your thighs clenching unconsciously, feeling yourself getting wet again, wondering what’s he gonna do with you. or to you.

“last time”, he says softly, leaning in just enough for his breath to brush your mouth, “you were the one in charge”

you remember. the way he let you lead, let you decide, let you take him however you wanted. let you ride him until you collapsed from your own pleasure. 

“you did what you wanted with me”, he continues, his voice low, “used me exactly how you felt like”

your pulse jumps. you nod your head, waiting for him to continue, because that’s the only thing your body can do.

“this time…”, he says, but he doesn’t continue, he kisses you.

it’s firm, deliberate. his hand slides to your waist as he shifts, guiding you onto your back. he follows, bracing himself above you, his weight settling over you, his body pressed against yours, his clothed cock rubbing against your aching cunt.

he pulls back just enough to look at you.

“this time”, he repeats, brushing his lips against yours again, “i’m doing whatever i want”

another kiss, deeper now, claiming you.

“and i’m going to use you”, he says against your mouth, his voice steady, confident, “exactly how i feel like”

and that’s all he needs. his words make you clench around nothing, letting out a moan that he silences with another kiss, hungry and bruising. his tongue sweeps into your mouth with a hunger that matches the fire building in your core, his teeth grazing your bottom lip before he sucks it between his teeth, drawing a soft whimper from you. 

his body presses down harder, the thin barrier of his boxers doing little to hide the rigid length of his cock grinding against your bare cunt, the friction sending sparks through your already sensitive folds. you arch up into him, your hands sliding up his back to clutch at his shoulders, your nails digging in as the kiss turns even more desperate.

he breaks the kiss only to tug his boxers down, kicking them aside, his cock springing free, thick and heavy, the tip already glistening with precum. the sight makes your mouth water, and without thinking, your hand darts down, eager to wrap your hand around him, to stroke the heat pulsing there, but changbin catches your wrist, pinning it gently but firmly above your head.

“no”, he says, his voice low and commanding, his eyes locking onto yours, “you can’t touch today. it’s my turn, remember? no hands on me”

your breath hitches at the authority in his tone, a fresh wave of arousal flooding your cunt. you nod, biting your lip, the denial only heightening the ache between your legs. 

“okay”, you whisper, your voice breathy.

he releases your wrist but keeps it there with a warning look before crashing his mouth back to yours. the kiss is fiercer now, his hand roaming down your side, tracing the curve of your hip before dipping between your thighs. 

his fingers find your clit immediately and he starts circling it with slow, deliberate pressure, the pad of his thumb gliding over the sensitive nub in tight loops that make your hips buck involuntarily.

you moan into his mouth, the sound vibrating against his tongue as pleasure shoots through you. he doesn’t stop the kiss, swallowing every gasp as his touch grows bolder, his fingers parting your folds, stroking through your wetness, coating himself in your arousal. 

then, without warning, he slides two fingers inside you, curling them just right to press against that spot. your walls flutter around them, gripping him tight as he pumps slowly, his thumb working your clit.

“fuck, bin”, you gasp when he pulls back for air, your head falling to the side as his lips trail to your neck. 

he stays there, sucking a mark in your skin, his teeth scraping lightly before his tongue soothes the sting. all the while, his fingers thrust deeper, moving inside you, stretching you open with them.

“god, i’ve wanted you like this for so long”, he growls against your throat, his voice rough with need, “last time, you took my cock like you owned it, made me watch you come all over me. but i wanted to pin you down, make you beg for it, fuck you until you couldn’t think straight” 

his words send heat pooling in your stomach, your cunt clenching harder around his fingers, your hips rolling up to meet each thrust. the wet sounds of him fingering you fill the room, loud and intoxicating, your slick coating his hand as you chase your climax.

“changbin- fuck, yes, right there”, you moan, your body writhing beneath him, your thighs trembling as his fingers curl again, hitting that perfect spot over and over. 

you can feel the tension coiling tight, your breaths coming in short, desperate bursts, but he doesn’t let up, his mouth moving lower to suck another bruise into your collarbone while his fingers works you relentlessly. he lifts his head suddenly, his eyes dark and intent as he watches your face contort in pleasure. 

“i’m not done yet”, he says, his voice husky, withdrawing his fingers just enough to make you whine at the loss. 

before you can protest, he kisses down your body, his lips brushing your breasts, his tongue flicking over one nipple before moving again until he settles between your thighs. his hands spread your legs wider, your thighs hooked over his shoulders, exposing you completely to his gaze.

the first swipe of his tongue is devastating, flat and broad, lapping from your entrance up to your clit in one long, slow drag that has you screaming his name, the sound raw and echoing off the walls. 

“changbin! oh god-”

he hums in response, the vibration rumbling through your core as he dives in fully, his mouth sealing over your cunt. his tongue delves inside, tasting every inch of your slick heat while his lips suck gently at your folds. you move against the sheets, your hands fisting the fabric as pleasure overwhelms you. 

you lift your head just enough to look at him, but he doesn’t stop, he pulls back just enough to let a thick strand of saliva mixed with your arousal connect his lips to your clit, the sight filthy and intimate as he holds your gaze, his eyes smoldering with hunger.

“look at you”, he says before his mouth returns to your clit, sucking it between his lips with firm, pulsing pressure that makes your back arch off the bed, “such a good girl for me, taking my tongue like this, so wet and needy. you’re dripping all over my face, y/n”

his praise washes over you like fire, your body responding with frantic clenches, your hips grinding up against his mouth. one of his hands goes up to cup your breast, his fingers pinching and rolling your nipple in time with the flicks of his tongue, while his other hand pushes two fingers back inside you, curling deep and thrusting hard. 

the combination is too much, everything is too much - his mouth devouring your clit, his fingers filling you, his hand gripping your breast. it pushes you higher, the coil in your stomach winding unbearably tight.

you’re relentless, your moans turning into cries as you chase your release, your thighs quivering around his head. sensing you’re close, changbin moves, his hand leaving your breast to grip your waist instead, his fingers digging into the soft flesh with bruising force, pinning you flat to the mattress. you know there’ll be marks blooming there later - red imprints of his hold, a reminder of his control.

just as your walls start to spasm, the orgasm hovering on the edge, he pulls back abruptly.

“not yet”, he growls against your clit, his fingers slipping out, his mouth lifting away, leaving you trembling and empty, the denial hitting like a punch to the gut. 

your body trembles on the edge, every nerve ending screaming for a release that he’s cruelly stopped. the emptiness between your legs aches fiercely, your cunt clenching desperately around nothing, slick dripping down your thighs from the teasing that’s left you so utterly wrecked. tears prick at the corners of your eyes, frustration and need blurring your vision as you look at him, your lips parted in a silent plea. 

“please, bin”, you beg, your voice breaking on a sob, the words tumbling out in a rush, “i need it, i-i need you. don’t stop, i can’t take it anymore. fuck, just let me come”

he hovers above you, his cock throbbing against your thigh, the heat of it a torturous reminder of what you’re craving. but changbin doesn’t give in right away. instead, he leans closer, his broad frame caging you in, one hand cupping your cheek to wipe the tears that slip free. 

“it’s okay, sweetheart”, he says softly, “i’ve got you, no more tears, quiet now” 

his lips brush yours in a gentle kiss, slow and coaxing, swallowing the next whimper that rises in your throat. the kiss deepens just enough to silence your pleas, his tongue tracing the seam of your mouth until you open for him, melting into the warmth as the desperation calms a bit. he pulls back slightly, his forehead resting against yours, his breath mingling in the space between you. 

“you’ve been such a good girl for me”, he whispers, the praise making your heart stutter even as your body throbs, “taking everything i give you, letting me tease you until you’re shaking. good girls like you deserve rewards, big ones, and i’m gonna give you exactly what you need”

the words ignite something deep inside, your cunt fluttering in anticipation as he shifts, lining himself up. the head of his cock nudges at your entrance, slick and ready, and with one smooth thrust, he pushes inside, stretching you open, filling the void that’s been tormenting you. 

you moan louder than ever before, the sound ripping from your chest, raw and unrestrained, echoing through the room - or rather, the entire dorm - as your walls clamp down around him, greedy for more. he’s so deep already, the pressure perfect, hitting spots that make your toes curl and your back arch.

changbin groans low in his throat, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his lips sucking and biting there, marking the skin with hot, open-mouthed kisses that sting just right. 

“fuck, you’re so tight”, he says against your throat, his hips snapping forward. 

the fullness is overwhelming, every ridge and vein dragging along your inner walls as he moves - slow at first, deliberate rolls that grind his pelvis against your clit with each pass. you cry out again, the pleasure sharp and immediate, your hands flying to his body - your fingers digging into the muscles of his shoulders, then sliding down to his back, your nails scraping lightly as you pull him closer. 

he lifts his head to capture your mouth in another kiss, this one messy and fervent, your tongues tangling as moans spill between you. yours vibrate against his lips with every thrust, his own grunts mixing in, the sounds loud but intimate. 

“that’s it, y/n”, he praises you between kisses, his voice husky and wrecked, “moan for me like that, let me hear how good my cock feels inside you”

your hands roam restlessly, one threading into his hair to tug gently, urging him deeper into the kiss, the other clutching at his bicep, feeling the flex of muscle as he braces himself. 

he adjusts then, hooking one of your legs over his hip, spreading you wider to open you up more fully, one of his hands gripping your thigh to hold it there, the angle allowing him to sink even deeper, the head of his cock brushing that sensitive spot inside with unerring precision.

“y-yeah, like that, please”, you beg him. 

“yeah? you like this?”, he says against your lips, his hips picking up speed, “i’m gonna make you come like this, open up for me”, the wet slap of skin on skin filling the air alongside your moans, “just let me fuck you right, i’m gonna make this cunt mine tonight”

the rhythm builds, fast and consuming, each thrust driving you higher, the coil in your stomach tightening again. your cunt flutters around him, slick coating his length, easing the way as he pounds into you, making your vision blur. 

“god, look at you- so fucking perfect, taking my cock like this. you’re gonna come so hard for me, aren't you? my good girl, all mine”

“a-all yours, bin”

he shifts again, both hands now on your thighs, pushing them back towards your chest to fold you beneath him, the position exposing you completely. he leans down to kiss you once more, swallowing your cries and moans while his hips snap forward, faster now. your nails rake down his back, leaving faint red trails, and he hisses in pleasure, the sound spurring you on, your hips meeting his thrusts, the friction on your clit building unbearably.

“bin- oh fuck, i’m so close”, you moan into his mouth, your body trembling. 

“come with me”, he says, his voice strained, “let go, show me how good i make you feel”

it hits you like a wave, crashing over with blinding intensity. your cunt spasming around him as you come undone. a gush of wetness escapes, just enough to soak where you’re joined, the slight squirt making everything slicker, more intense. changbin notices immediately, groaning deep and triumphant as he feels it, his thrusts stuttering. 

“oh f-fuck yes- that’s my girl, squirting for me like that. so hot, y/n, you’re perfect” 

that’s enough to tip him over, his hips thrusting one last time as he spills inside you, hot pulses of cum filling you up, his body shuddering with the force of it.

he collapses onto you then, both of you panting and spent. his cock twitches softly inside you, prolonging the aftershocks as your hands slide up to cradle his face, pulling him into a lazy kiss, your lips and tongues exploring lazily. he kisses you like he can’t get enough, even now, murmuring against your mouth between kisses. 

“so good... my good girl…”

you kiss him this time, your lips searching for his. the kiss is unhurried, full, his weight settling more carefully now. there’s no rush, just closeness, just his uneven breath ghosting over your skin.

“y/n”, he murmurs softly, brushing his nose against yours, “you with me?”

you nod immediately, your fingers on his jaw, your thumbs stroking his skin, “yeah, all good”

his shoulders drop, relief flashing briefly across his face before that satisfied warmth returns. he kisses you again, gently now, peppering soft kisses along your lips, your nose, your cheek, your forehead.

“you did so good”, he says quietly, “so, so good for me”

his hand moves soothingly over your side, grounding you. you hum in response, pulling him closer just to feel him there a second longer. 

eventually, he shifts, a wet sound accompanying as he slips out and his cum trickles down your thigh while he presses one last kiss to your mouth before moving back completely. he straightens, runs a hand through his hair, and then reaches for his boxers, pulling them on slowly.

he turns back to you, his eyes soft but still dark with that lingering edge.

“only one left now”, he says, a small smile tugging at his lips, “and i’m honestly impressed you’re still standing, well, i mean, you’re lying down but, you know what i mean”

you laugh weakly, sinking back into the mattress, “i know, bin”

he steps closer again, bends down to kiss you once more, then brushes his fingers through your hair, smoothing it back from your face.

“i’m proud of you”, he murmurs, “i always am”

your chest tightens at that, warmth spreading somewhere deeper than skin.

“i’ll see you soon”, he adds, his voice dropping just slightly.

then he straightens, gives you one last look, and heads for the door. it closes softly behind him, leaving you alone again, your heart still racing, your body heavy with sensation and overstimulation, the sheets under you a mess of you and the boys. well, almost all of them. there’s only one left. 

chan.

you stay there for a few seconds, your chest rising and falling as everything catches up to you. and then, slowly, carefully, you push yourself upright. your legs protest immediately and you laugh under your breath as you stand up, one hand bracing against the bed when your knees wobble. 

everything feels pleasantly overstimulated, your muscles loose, your skin sensitive, your body reminding you of just how much it’s been through today. step by step, you make your way towards the bathroom attached to your room, your bare feet sinking into the rug.

the light clicks on softly and you stop in front of the sink, your hands resting on the cool porcelain, and finally, you lift your gaze to the mirror.

it steals the breath right out of your lungs.

you’re flushed, your skin warm and glowing, your eyes a little glassy, your lips swollen from all the kissing. and everywhere - absolutely everywhere - there are marks. faint already in some places, darker in others. along your neck, just below your jaw. scattered beneath your breasts. along your hips, your waist, your thighs. evidence of hands, mouths, teeth. of being touched, held, wanted.

there’s something intoxicating about the sight, about knowing how each mark got there, who left it, what it meant in the moment. you trace one of them with your fingers, then another, watching the way your skin reacts under your touch. the feeling makes your thighs clench involuntarily, and you feel yourself getting wet again.

you look at yourself and feel powerful, desired, still hungry. and then, a soft sound comes from the bedroom, the door opening. you freeze, your eyes flicking up in the mirror. then you hear a dull thud against the floor. fabric, maybe.

before you can turn around, a presence fills the doorway behind you. you meet his reflection first - broad shoulders, familiar stance, relaxed but attentive. chan leans against the bathroom doorframe, like he’s taking you in slowly, deliberately. 

oh, and he’s completely naked.

“hey”, he says.

the sound of his voice sends a shiver straight down your spine.

“hey”, you say looking at him through the mirror.

he closes the distance between you, his reflection stepping closer in the mirror, until his chest is almost brushing your back. then, his hands come to rest on your waist, his palms soft against your skin. the touch is careful at first, grounding, like he’s checking in without words. he looks at you in the mirror instead of directly at you, his eyes searching yours.

“you okay?”, he asks quietly, “you holding up?”

you nod, a small smile tugging at your lips. 

“yeah, i’m a bit overwhelmed”, you glance at him through the glass, “but i’m good, don’t worry”

his shoulders ease at that, a soft huff of relief leaving him. 

“i figured”, he says, “but i still wanted to hear it from you”

he moves closer, his arms wrapping around you fully now, pulling you back against him. the contact is intimate without rushing - his chin near your shoulder, your bodies fitting together easily. you both look at yourselves in the mirror, the contrast striking: you marked and flushed, him steady and solid behind you.

“i thought things couldn’t get crazier than the last time but… guess i was wrong”, you laugh quietly

“yeah, i guess you could say that”, he chuckles against your shoulders, his eyes flicking over the reflection of your skin, the faint marks, the glow, “you really went through all of us”

“well, not yet”, you tease him, and that earns a low laugh from him. 

“right. my turn now”

his lips brush your neck then, slow and unhurried, a soft kiss that makes your breath hitch. another one follows, then another, lower this time. his voice hums against your skin. you feel his tongue tracing down your shoulder before he speaks again.

“is this a kink you have?”, he asks casually, “you know, you and the mirror?”

you smile, tilting your head slightly to give him better access. 

“i only discovered it today”, you say, “han’s fault”

he hums, amused, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, “of course it is”

you turn in his arms then, until you’re facing him. his hands stay on your waist, his thumbs brushing lightly as he looks down at you. there’s warmth there, but also something darker underneath.

“also”, you add lightly, tracing your finger down his chest, quickly looking down to see his cock hard and ready, “hyunjin already fucked me on top of furniture earlier. so unless you’re planning on copying someone, i’d suggest you get creative, my leader”

for half a second, he just stares at you and then, his mouth is on yours. the kiss is hungry but controlled, deep without being rushed. his hands tighten on your waist as he pulls you closer, and you melt into him, your fingers curling into his shoulders as the kiss deepens.

when he pulls back, just enough to breathe, his forehead rests against yours before he speaks.

“trust me”, he says, his lips brushing yours once more, “i’m not copying anyone tonight”

and the look in his eyes tells you exactly how serious he is.

before you can respond, chan’s mouth claims yours again. the kiss is intoxicating, his lips pressing firm against yours, his tongue slipping past your teeth to tangle with yours. you feel the warmth of his breath mingling with yours as your hands move to his chest, your fingers tracing the defined lines of his muscles. he groans into the kiss, and his arms tighten around your waist, pulling your naked body flush against his, making his erection press against your stomach, hard and insistent.

suddenly, his hand wraps around yours, and he tugs you back into the bedroom. you barely register what he’s doing as he guides you across the short distance to the nearest wall. your back meets the smooth surface with a soft thud, his body crowding in immediately, pinning you there without trapping you. his presence is dominant yet attentive, like he’s savoring every second of your surrender.

“has anyone fucked you so hard you couldn’t stand on your feet anymore?”, he asks you, his voice low and rough, the words laced with a challenge that sends a thrill straight to your core.

you gulp and shake your head, your breath catching at the raw edge in his tone, your cunt clenching in anticipation. no one has pushed you that far yet, not tonight, not ever, and the admission makes heat flood your cheeks.

“good”, he says, a satisfied smirk tugging at his lips, “then that one will be me”

he kisses you again, hungrier this time, devouring your mouth with a fervor that leaves no room for teasing. his tongue thrusts deep, while one hand fists in your hair, tilting your head back to deepen the angle. the pull is just right, a sting that makes you gasp into him, and his other hand grips your waist, his fingers digging into the soft flesh there as he grinds his hips forward. 

his cock slides against your stomach, hot and thick, the friction drawing a low grunt from his throat that rumbles against your lips. you moan in response, the sound muffled by his mouth, your body arching instinctively to press closer, your thighs parting slightly as you feel the slickness building between your legs again.

he breaks the kiss only to trail his lips along your jaw, nipping lightly before capturing your mouth once more, the rhythm of his grinding hips relentless. each roll presses him harder against you, his length trapped between your bodies, and you feel his precum smearing across your skin. 

your hands roam his back, your nails scraping down his muscles, urging him on as grunts escape him with every thrust. you match him, moaning louder, the wall cool against your spine while his heat envelops you, the contrast heightening every sensation until you’re both lost in the grind.

chan’s control is ironclad, though. he kisses down your neck, sucking a fresh mark just below your collarbone before dropping lower. his mouth maps your body with purpose, his lips brushing the swell of your breasts, his tongue flicking over a nipple that’s already hard from the cool air and his attention. 

you whimper as he sucks hard enough to make your knees weaken, his teeth grazing the sensitive peak before soothing it with his tongue. he doesn’t linger long on one side, moving to the other with the same intensity, his hands steadying your hips to keep you upright against the wall.

his kisses continue down your stomach, until he gets to the curve of your hips. he nips at the skin there, right over one of the fading marks from earlier, and you feel the possessive edge in the bite, claiming you again. 

finally, he sinks to his knees in front of you, the movement fluid and unhurried, his broad shoulders parting your thighs as he settles between them. his eyes lock on yours, looking up at you from this angle, his eyes dark with hunger. 

“i have to do something again”, he says, his voice husky, as his hands slide up your legs, his thumbs tracing your inner thighs until they reach your core.

you barely have time to process before his mouth is on you, his lips sealing over your clit in a hot, wet kiss that makes your head fall back against the wall. he licks a slow, broad stripe up your folds, tasting the remnants of your earlier releases mixed with fresh arousal, and he groans deeply. 

“fuck”, he moans against you, the vibration sending sparks through your body. 

his tongue delves deeper, parting your lips to lap at your entrance, circling with deliberate pressure that has your hips bucking forward. 

“f-fuck chris!”, you scream his name, the sound echoing off the walls, raw and desperate.

he doesn’t stop, instead, he adds his fingers, two sliding inside you with ease thanks to how soaked you are. they curl immediately, hooking against that spot that makes you scream louder, pumping in time with the flicks of his tongue on your clit. 

“please, chris, more, d-don't stop, fuck, i need it”, you beg him, your voice breaking on gasps, your hands fisting in his hair to hold him there. 

he hums against you, and looks up, his eyes locked on your face as he works you over. you can see the slickness coating his face, feel it dripping down his jaw from how messily he’s devouring you, your arousal leaking freely as your thighs tremble around his head.

“i couldn’t stop thinking about your taste since i had you”, he growls between licks, pulling back just enough to speak, his fingers still thrusting deep and steady, “when you sat on my face… fuck, one time was not enough. you’re so sweet, so wet for me, dripping like this. i could do this all day” 

his words make you clench around his fingers, and he dives back in, sucking your clit hard while moving his fingers inside you.

“chris! oh god, yes, right there please!”

the build is relentless, your body coiling tighter with every thrust of his fingers, every swirl of his tongue. you feel the edge closer, your moans turning to pleas as you grind against his face. but just as the orgasm almost hits you, he stops. his mouth lifts, his fingers slipping free with a wet sound, leaving you hanging, throbbing and empty, a whine tearing from your throat in protest.

you stare down at him, your chest heaving, the denial hitting you like a wave crashing and pulling back just as it peaks. your tears prick at the corners of your eyes, frustration and need blurring your vision. you’re so tired and overstimulated that this denial feels like torture. 

“chris, please- don’t stop, i was so close, fuck, i need you”, your voice cracks, your thighs quivering from the edge he left you on, your cunt clenching around nothing, aching for release.

he stands up slowly, his lips glistening with your wetness, his chin slick and shiny. his eyes never leave yours, dark and unyielding, making your heart stutter. as he stands fully, towering close, he cups your face, his thumbs brushing away the tears that spill over. 

“shh, baby”, he says, his voice soft but firm, leaning in to press his lips to yours in a soothing kiss. 

the taste of yourself lingers on his tongue as it slips into your mouth, swallowing your pleas. he pulls back just enough to whisper against your lips, “you’re doing so good for me, such a perfect girl, taking everything i give you”

his words ease the whine in your throat even as your body screams for more. he kisses you again, one hand sliding down to grip your hip while the other tangles in your hair, holding you steady. you melt into it, moaning softly as his praise sinks in, making you feel cherished even in the torment. 

“good girl”, he says between kisses, nipping your lower lip, “so patient, so wet and ready. you’re everything i want”

the ache between your legs pulses harder at his voice, but he doesn’t rush. his hard cock brushes against your thigh, thick and throbbing, the tip leaking as it nudges your skin. you reach for him, but he catches your wrist, guiding your hand away with a shake of his head. 

“remember what i told you”, he says, his voice dropping, sending shivers down your spine, “i’m gonna fuck you hard, make you forget how to stand”

before you can even react, he lines the head of his cock against your entrance, slick and open. he sinks inside you, stretching your walls until he’s buried to the hilt. you cry out, the fullness overwhelming after his teasing, your nails digging into his shoulders as your body adjusts to him. he groans low in his chest, his hips stilling for a moment to let you feel him - hot, pulsing, hard, filling every space.

then he starts moving, pulling back almost all the way before slamming forward, the force pinning you harder against the wall. your feet shift on the floor, your toes curling as he sets a brutal pace, each thrust deep and deliberate, his cock dragging against your inner walls. 

“fuck, you feel so good”, he says, his mouth crashing back to yours in a messy kiss. 

you kiss him back fiercely, while his hand slides up to cup your breast, his thumb rolling your nipple. moans spill from your lips into his mouth, turning to screams as he angles his hips, hitting that spot inside you with every thrust.

“chris- oh god, yes”, you moan, breaking the kiss to nip at his jaw, then his neck, sucking a mark into the skin just below his ear. 

he retaliates, his teeth grazing your throat, biting down enough to leave a fresh bruise. the pain mixes with pleasure, heightening everything as he fucks you relentlessly, the sound of skin slapping skin echoing in the room.

your legs tremble, threatening to give out, but he holds you up with ease, one arm around your waist, the other braced against the wall beside your head now. grunts rumble from him with each thrust, matching your cries. 

“you take me so well, baby, squeezing me like that” 

the words push you higher, the build starting again but fiercer this time. as your orgasm gets closer, your breaths coming in pants, your legs wobbling under you, he shifts, his hands dropping to grip your thighs, lifting one leg first, then the other, wrapping them around his waist. you lock your ankles behind him, the new angle letting him sink even deeper, his cock bottoming out with every snap of his hips. 

“fuck, c-chris, harder, please!”, you beg him, your head thrown back against the wall, your nails raking down his back as he picks up speed, pounding into you faster, the friction on your clit from his pelvis grinding against you with each thrust.

“that’s it, beg for me”, he says, his voice strained, his lips brushing your neck, “such a good girl, so tight and desperate. gonna make you come so hard” 

“yes, chris, don't stop… f-fuck me!”, your voice breaking on sobs of pleasure.

your orgasm looms closer, your walls clenching around his length, but just as it teeters on the brink, he stops again. buried deep, he stills completely, his hips flush against yours, and you groan in frustration, your tears falling again now. 

“no- chris, not again, please, i can’t- i need to come, fuck, don’t do this!”, you say, grinding desperately against him, but he doesn’t budge, his cock twitching inside you but not moving.

“shh, baby, i’ve got you”, he soothes you, capturing your lips in a tender kiss that contrasts his denial, his tongue gentle as he hushes your whimpers. 

one hand strokes your hair, the other supporting your weight as he begins to walk towards the bed, still inside you, every shift sending sparks through your oversensitive nerves. you cling to him, your legs tight around his waist, moaning into his mouth at the friction of him moving within you without thrusting.

he reaches the bed, lowering you both down without pulling out, your back hitting the soft sheets as he settles between your thighs. the mattress dips under his weight, and as soon as you’re lying down, he starts again, thrusting deep and hard, the pace even more punishing now. 

“i’m gonna make you come now”, he growls, propping himself on one elbow while his other hand slips between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit and circling it firmly. 

his cock slamming into you, hitting that spot inside, and his thumb pressing your swollen clit shatter the last of your control. you scream his name, your body arching off the bed as waves crash over you, your cunt spasming around him in violent pulses. 

“chris o-oh fuck” 

the orgasm rips through you, intense and unrelenting, and he doesn’t stop, fucking you through it, his fingers rubbing faster on your clit until you squirt, hot liquid gushing between you, soaking his hand and the sheets beneath. he groans loudly, the sight and feel pushing him over the edge, his thrusts erratic as he comes with you, his cock pulsing as he fills you with thick spurts of cum. 

“fuck… take it all, baby, that’s it”, he grunts, burying his face in your neck, marking you with a final bite as your shared release leaves you both trembling, screaming into each other’s skin.

he collapses over you with a low, shaky breath, his weight warm and grounding as the moment finally breaks. the only sound in the room is the sound of both of you trying to catch your breath. his forehead drops to your shoulder, his chest rising and falling against yours.

“hey”, he says after a second, lifting his head just enough to look at you, his thumb brushing your cheek, gentle now, “you good?”

you nod, still a little dazed, your eyes soft as you look back at him. 

“yeah”, you breathe, “i’m good, chris, don’t worry”

he lets out a small, fond laugh, pressing a slow kiss to your lips, then another to your temple. 

“you did amazing”, he says quietly, “not just with me. all of it. but i need to make sure you’re really okay”

the care in his voice makes your chest tighten. you reach up, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him down for another kiss. eventually, he shifts, careful as he slips out of you, his cum trickling down your thigh, and you feel just how sensitive you are when the air hits your skin. you hiss softly, and he freezes immediately.

“sorry”, he says, already moving again, “stay there”

he disappears for a moment and comes back with a towel, his movements slow and attentive as he helps you clean up. you flinch once or twice despite yourself, and each time he pauses, murmuring apologies, pressing light kisses to your knee, your stomach, anywhere he can reach.

“all done”, he says softly when he finishes, brushing his thumb over your hip, “it’s over now”

you don’t answer, you just look at him, your eyes tired and a little glassy, and pull him down for another kiss. he smiles into it, kissing you back just as gently. you try to shift, to sit up, and immediately sink back into the mattress with a laugh. 

“wow”, you say, “okay, yeah, not happening”

he laughs too, straightening as he pulls on his boxers. 

“i warned you”, he says, amused, “you weren’t going to be walking right away”

he leans down once more, brushing your hair back from your face, his thumb tracing your jaw. 

“we’ll be outside”, he tells you, “no rush, take your time. just come when you’re ready, okay?”

you hum softly in response, your eyes drifting closed for a moment. he gives you one last look and then heads for the door. it closes quietly behind him, leaving you alone again, stretched out on the bed, your body spent, staring at the ceiling, letting it all wash over you.

all of it.

every voice, every touch, every orgasm. the realisation settles in, almost unreal at first. you’ve had sex with all of them. every single one. the weight of that thought makes your chest feel hot and tight at the same time.

your body is exhausted. deliciously, bone-deep tired. your muscles ache in an extremely overstimulated way, your skin feels too sensitive for fabric, for air. and yet, underneath the fatigue, there’s something else still burning - a low, persistent pull that refuses to fade.

a craving.

this wasn’t supposed to go this far.

this started as curiosity, a joke that lingered in the air. then than first time, the boundaries blurred, shifted. and then one thing led to another, and suddenly here you are, having crossed every line you once thought was solid.

and now that you’ve stepped over it… you don’t want to step back.

you push yourself up slowly, pausing when your legs can’t even carry your own body. it takes a moment before you can fully stand, one hand braced against the bed as you steady yourself. when you finally move, it’s careful, step by step, your legs wobbling a bit.

you pull on a t-shirt and slip into your panties without much thought. modesty feels pointless now, they’ve seen every part of you, touched every inch. there’s nothing left to hide, and there’s nothing you want to hide.

you stop in front of the mirror one last time before leaving your room and you barely recognise yourself, not because you look different, but because of the way you’re standing. the way your eyes hold something new, confident, aware, hungry. 

you step out into the hallway, the air cooler, the house quiet, except for the low voices in the living room. with every step towards the living room, that feeling grows stronger, a pull you don’t fight. you don’t want to stop this, you don’t want today to be the end of whatever this has become.

when you enter the living room, they’re all there.

spread out, relaxed but alert. familiar silhouettes, familiar faces, watching you the second you appear. the room is thick with the aftermath of what they’ve done, heard, felt, imagined while waiting. you see their faces. you see their bodies. their boxers can’t lie.

their eyes track you openly and in that instant, you see it. the same thing that’s been sitting heavy in your chest all along. they feel it too.

you stop in the middle of the room, your heart thudding, the silence stretching just long enough to make it unbearable. and then you speak, your voice steady despite everything buzzing beneath your skin.

“i don’t want to end this here”

and the way they look at you - open, wanting, dark eyes gleaming with hunger - tells you everything you need to know.

maybe you don’t have to stop.

wheel series | event masterlist | the library

likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated 💛

divider by the amazing @lariesographic 💖

the words settled like a dead weight into the beige-painted room of your marriage counselor's office.

the session hadn't even formally started, a perfectly manicured finger pausing in mid air against the small, ticking timer on her desk. it indicated that only a minute had passed since you'd taken a seat on the overwhelmingly bright lime colored futon.

all your therapist had done was ask: "what brings you into my office today?" and that was the first thing you'd come to admit, the thought haunting you with every night that you spent in bed alone.

with each night you pretended to not hear him opening your window at the dead of night, stalking into your shared room despite each of his movements the same as a mouse skittering somewhere they shouldn’t. pretending like you didn't hear his breath catching in his throat, the man tempted to call you out on your lie, before ultimately turning his back.

there's only a few inches of distance between you and hiromi, a distance that could easily be broken if either one of you so much as dared to extend your hand out. but it feels more like a barrier extended multiple feet tall, a barrier that neither one of you is insistent on breaking. your husband's laying right next to you and you've never felt more alone.

pretending was easier than acknowledging. silence was better than arguing. a thought that the two of you had begrudgingly come to accept as the new norm of your marriage.

your therapist cleared her throat, pressing the timer to begin counting the hour down. the sound of pen scratching against paper filled the silence that your husband couldn't bring himself to break.

tic tic tic.

scratch.

tic tic tic.

you wonder if your therapist's writing down gibberish—anything so she wouldn't have to be faced with the awkwardness that seeped out of the room in thick waves. if she's writing about how you chose to address hiromi directly instead of saying i feel like i don't know my husband anymore.

if she's writing about how your marriage was over from the moment you stepped in the door.

you find yourself going down a rabbit hole of what she could’ve possibly written in these thirty seconds—if you were sitting wrong, if you messed up somehow, or if yo— nothing worth mentioning about, actually. she merely pushes her glasses up and looks over at you directly, clearing her throat before she asks, "so tell us, why are you feeling this way?"

us—you're suddenly reminded hiromi's sitting right next to you, clinging onto every word that left your mouth much like the woman in front of you. your clammy hands clasp together in front of you, thoughts coursing through your head at a million miles per hour.

"i am feeling this way because—” you take a pause, racking your brain. because of, what? because of everything? that would only lead to a barrage of more follow up questions, of needing to rack your brain for the exact moment you started debating divorce with a man you once thought an entire future out with.

for the right moment you started debating if you even loved him anymore.

after what feels like an eternity of the two of them gawking at you for an answer, you manage to build all the thoughts coursing through your head into one single sentence, “i am feeling this way because i used to read my husband with ease, i used to know what he wanted to say before he said it.

“i know how he likes to drink his coffee, just black. i know what kind of jacket he prefers to court—double breasted with a peak lapel. but lately.. it’s like i don’t know who’s stepping through the door anymore.”

another few moments of pen scratching against paper, another few moments of pretending like you don’t see hiromi staring from the corner of his eye. “thank you for admitting this. i know it can’t be easy. now i have to ask, when did you start noticing these changes in your marriage?”

the rest of the following hour ticks by painfully slow, with you filling in the blanks from your point of view and hiromi sitting in complete silence, occasionally clearing his throat in awkward stills of quiet.

"okay, next week, i'd really like to hear things from your perspective, hiromi," your therapist speaks up with a calm smile, setting the notepad down. she stands up, crossing across the room to a drawer where a variety of pamphlets decorate the space.

all from self help guides to journaling advice, she pulls out two slips of papers. passing them over to you and hiromi. ‘how to communicate with your partner again! 50 conversation starters guaranteed to work’ written in big, bold letters smacks you right in the face when you start reading through it.

“i want the two of you to practice talking to each other again,” she speaks up, gesturing over to you, “i noticed you took the initiative with our session today. while nothing’s wrong with that, i think the two of you could benefit from expressing how you each feel in this relationship.”

—

expressing how you feel. what a load of bull. the drive back to the firm is filled with even more silence, radio playing some generic song neither one of you bothered to reach out to switch. the atmosphere’s filled with the sound of cars honking, people rushing by to catch a last minute taxi, police sirens swerving through narrow gaps in traffic.

“are you going to be coming home for dinner?” you question once the car comes to a stop, turning to look over at hiromi. the car sits on idle, his fingertips tapping against the steering wheel in uneven beats. when did having a simple conversation become so awkward?

he reaches out for the piece of paper the therapist handed out earlier, tired eyes scanning through the list. trying to find what conversation starter could be plugged into this situation. a vein in your forehead twitches at the sight, even if you’re trying to remind yourself he’s attempting to make an effort.

“i acknowledge how you feel, honey,” hiromi starts off, the apologetic smile on his face when he looks up to meet your annoyed expression fading away into a small frown, “and i recognize your efforts, but i don’t think i’ll be showing u-” you slam the car door before he gets a chance to finish.

hiromi doesn’t pull out of the spot just yet, watching as you headed up the stairs. you don’t turn to look back at him, not even once. “my god,” an agitated mutter leaves his lips, reading through the list once more before shaking his head. he doesn’t realize how long he’s been with the engine running, only pulling out of the space when a loud honk rings behind him.

there’s a manila folder on your door step when you step up to the office—no returning address, nothing to trace back to. no kind of note either, but you know it’s meant for you. daredevil. he’s been dedicating himself to sending little envelopes to your office—no signs of concrete evidence (that’d end up being inadmissible anyways), but enough trails to where finding said evidence was a cakewalk.

this week had been a statement of bank records linking an offshore account to one of fisk’s buildings. it was something, that with enough pressure and persistence, you could get something out of. your heels scruff against carpet as you make your way further into your office, plopping down on a rusted leather chair. a pile of paperwork waits for you as soon as you sit down, from nda’s to settlement offers made by fisk.

an elderly woman walks into the office half an hour later, her head swishing from side to side to see if she was in the right place. that much was a given, you supposed. you only had second-hand furniture around the place—wooden chairs chipped at the ends and worn with age, a coffee maker that ended up burning the beverage half the time, and a fax machine that no one used anymore.

it was easy to think the building was abandoned, in all honesty. you clear your throat, drawing her attention to the open door at the end of the hall. she steps into your office with a stack of papers in hand and a tupperware container filled to the brim in empanadas.

“hi, welcome in,” you greet her with a smile, pulling the chair back for her before taking a seat once more. the woman takes a seat in front of you, her hands resting against her lap. “what can i do for you today?”

her brows furrow. "pensé qué había alguien que hablara español.” you didn’t need to be fluent to hear the disappointment clinging onto her voice.

"that would be my…” you snap your fingers, willing the word to come to you, “esposo, but if you need someone that speaks punjabi, i'm here.”

(hiromi’s attempts at teaching you spanish had proven unsuccessful throughout the years.

white flurries of snow covered the pavement in a thick white layers, every other student in the library already gone to their dorm for the night. orange hues illuminated the path back to your dorm, higuruma walking right next to you and listening to every word.

you were going on about a failed test in your foreign language class, complaining about how hard punjabi had been to pick up. “spanish’s been easy, it’s just the gendering that gets me all messed up,” hiromi speaks up when you’re finally done, air leaving his lungs in thin wisps of smoke.

a groan leaves your lips in agreement, “don’t even get me started on the gendering. i might just have to go to the tutoring center.”

the two of you walk in relative silence, boots crunching against the ground underneath. it’s a peaceful kind of quiet, one that makes you feel comfortable without the overwhelming need to try to fill it.

“how do you say lawyers in spanish?” you suddenly question, turning to look over at him. a snowflake chose to land on his nose at that moment, your finger reaching up to lightly brush it off. a small flush makes itself visible up his neck, his cheeks dusted in a light pink.

every action you took made his heart do a little spitter sputter, almost in disbelief you seemed to like him.

then he remembers you’d asked him a question. “lawyers,” hiromi takes a moment to pause, rummaging through the catalogues in his brain after frying it off with reading review after review and cans of red bull, “oh, abogados.”

“we’re gonna be el grande avocados!” you exclaim, gesturing to an imaginary title. it’s easy to imagine something big, something grand with him. an office where you could solely do pro bono cases, where you didn’t need anything to but a simple ‘thanks’ to be fulfilled.

where bills and building maintenance and rent didn’t exist.

a laugh bubbled out of his throat, the sound a sweet melody in the midst of car horns and police sirens, “that’s not spanish, that’s fruit baby.”

your nameplate still reads avocado at law. you didn’t think that you’d be the only fulfilling this dream, though.)

“but i can take a recording of your testimony and have him transcribe it,” you assure her, pulling out your trusty tape recorder from storage (your drawer). a cloud of dust leaves the surface, a sign of how long it’s been since its last use.

the woman gives you what you could only describe as the most strained smile you’ve ever seen, clearing her throat before starting to speak to the recorder. her voice cracks during certain parts, a couple parts you could pick up—fisk, 150 grand, trash apartment. you give her a pack of tissues before she leaves your office, accepting her empanadas with a warm smile and a gracias that came out sounding like grassy ass.

yet another example of how your husband was neglecting even his work at this rate. you’re not sure when’s the last time you’ve seen him at the office for more than half an hour, and each time you do, he seems to be on edge. like he’s aching to leave, waiting for the right moment to make his grand exit. he’s the one members of the community look out for, to feel understood and seen.

to feel as if their concerns are worth being listened to and addressed. and you know, that as much as you try, as many transcripts that you take and how many smiles you offer, they don’t feel that same kind of security with you. you truly are failing at not just your marriage, but your job too.

the rest of the day is filled with even more tenants coming in with their suits towards the building owner, each one showing images of apartments that were less than livable. mold covered the walls in thick clouds, asbestos found in blood work brought in by the tenants, one who’s child has been affected with lead poisoning.

it’s more than enough to get a formal complaint started up. if only you could get some help to deal with a class action suit like this. a quiet huff leaves your lips, resigning yourself to spending most of your night cooped up in your office with bitter, stale coffee and dust bunnies as company.

—

the fluorescent billboard in front of your apartment building’s already painting the room in a deep crimson hue when you arrive, pale moonlight striking through the glass windows. you plop your briefcase onto the couch before trudging your way into your bedroom, the exhaustion of the day finally starting to wear down on your body.

there’s no point in making dinner for one person, you’ll call in for takeout sometime later. and while most people leave their job as soon as they shut their office door, you're flickering through the different tv channels. trying to see if any more reports of wilson fisk have made the nightly news.

it’s nothing interesting other than reports of the stock market, of a robbery gone wrong, of daredevil intervening in some kind of drug trade. “the masked vigilante appears to have been spotted in the scene around eight p.m., stopping a large cargo boat allegedly carrying kilos of cocaine…” you let the news play in the background, picking up one of the books in your shelf.

zoning law and practice, eighth edition volume one. you need as much as you can get when it comes to going up against fisk and his expensive team of lawyers, one expensive law book after another if it’s what it takes.

a shadow appears from the corner of your eye. at first, you play it off to exhaustion. to some tree swaying in the wind, some bird that flew too close to your window. you don’t think too much of it, you live on the second floor. another section gets highlighted and annotated.

then you hear it. a latch coming loose, a silhouette making itself visible. the highlighter in your hand falls onto the bed next to you, painting your covers in a light yellow shade. a man plops onto your bedroom floor in the middle of the night. a man staining blood with each inch he moved, a man holding a crowbar in a deathly grip.

all of your senses fly out the window.

a loud scream erupts from your throat at the sight of the intruder making their way through your window, slinking onto the floor. a couple lights flicker on from the apartments beside you, neighbors surely waken from the ruckus. still, you scramble to grab the first weapon you can find to defend yourself.

the high heel scattered on the floor? (that you swore you’d pick up tomorrow) no.

the waterproof rabbit vibrator you kept in the top drawer of your night stand? heavens no.

hell, even your house keys? not even that.

your weapon of choice in this case happened to be your eighth edition thousand page leather-bound book full of new york’s zoning laws.

it was enough to give the intruder a concussion and enough to leave your wallet mourning the damages after the fact.

mentally preparing yourself, you’re about to toss the book. holding it over your head when the intruder chooses to slide the black mask over their head. your eyes nearly pop out of your sockets when you see who it is, book held up in midair.

"you said—" hiromi chooses that moment to collapse onto the floor, hand clasped around his bleeding abdomen and breathing ragged, "—you didn't know me. this is who i am."

you blink once, twice, even three times. laughter bubbles straight from the depths of your chest, your head flying back at the absurdity of the situation. hiromi’s not laughing, you quickly come to realize. you pinch yourself only to find out this isn’t some sort of dream, isn’t some sort of sick prank that your husband’s decided to play on you.

you’re faced with the reality that your husband is daredevil.

you don’t only see the big bad daredevil whose mask covered face has been plastered on a corkboard in each new york precinct police department around hell's kitchen with the promise of a hefty reward. the big bad daredevil who’s been painted on news outlets as menacing, as a threat, as an untrustworthy agent working on his own twisted sense of justice.

but you also see the daredevil who’s been helping you out with your case against wilson fisk. the daredevil that’s been protecting women and children from getting harassed in the street late at night, unwilling to kill but eager to incapacitate.

then, you see what’s underneath the mask. what’s underneath the various headlines, what’s underneath the mystique and flashy acrobatics. you see the guy you met in 3l who dared to go against nietzsche’s ethics with a passion, calling his writing ‘half-assed fragments at best.’

you see the guy who’d memorized your coffee order off one study session, never once failing to bring it to your table following after. the guy who didn’t hesitate to go pursue pro-bono cases, accepting payment in the form of baked goods while your classmates pursued prestigious internships defending corporation after corporation.

while everyone else went after the fame and the money that came with being a lawyer, he went to pursue justice for those harmed. whether it be by the own flawed system the guilty have been incarcerated under or the ones needing some sort of defense.

and in that, you see the man that you fell in love with again. the one you planned out the rest of your life with, the one with big dreams who’d made your first nameplate on a napkin and promised to be your partner.

you shove your blankets off your body, hit with the cold air whistling through the crack in the window while you make your way to the bathroom. the first aid kit stowed away in your bottom cabinet is laughable—a couple bandaids and alcohol pads thrown in together in case of a paper cut, in case of a nasty fall.

nothing in case for your husband bleeding out on your floor in the middle of the night.

miraculously enough, you manage to find an old sewing needle your mom left behind on one of her visits and a nylon thread hiromi had borrowed from nurse claire from the floor underneath. you're not sure how many times you've wiped the needle with alcohol, trying to get it properly disinfected before making your way back to the bedroom.

kneeling down beside the bleeding mess that was your husband, you slowly begin to unravel the sopping wet layers covering his upper body. the harsh scent of iron clings to the air, a reminder you need to work faster. and yet, you find yourself hesitating every moment a pained groan leaves his lips.

the layers drop unceremoniously with a heavy plop, staining your ivory floors in a deep, crimson shade. now that there’s nothing in the way, you can see just how profound the slash cutting through his abdomen went. it starts right underneath his pecs diagonally across to just on top of the waistband of his pants.

your fingers trembled, trying to put the thin piece of nylon through the small hole of the needle. you miss once, then you miss again. a frustrated sigh leaves your lips, hiromi’s hands coming to rest against your own. “take a deep breath for me, honey.”

funny how the man bleeding out was the one trying to reassure you. still, you followed the movement of his hands. taking a deep breath in and then exhaling slowly, your shoulders losing tension. you’re able to focus more clearly now, slowly threading the thin string through the hole.

it’s hard to distinguish where the wound starts and where it ends, pieces of flesh sticking out from nearly every direction. but somehow, and some way, you manage to line up the very messy edges you were working on suturing. or at least, trying to.

hiromi tries his best not to flinch, not to move, not to react as you’re threading the needle through his abdomen. “i can hear you thinking, so ask your questions,” he murmurs, the silence starting to become unbearable. you’ve been biting down on your lip for the past five minutes, almost saying something before swallowing it down.

and there were, in fact, about a million questions coursing through your head right now. but the simplest one you could pin point for the time being was: “why?”

why did hiromi higuruma choose to put his life in danger every night? why did he choose to put on a black suit and play vigilante for the streets of new york?

his throat bobbed, watching as your fingers worked on tying the first knot with precision. “i choose to do this because law isn’t always fair. you know as well as i do, that half the people guilty don’t get enough of a punishment that they deserve. and the half that do, don’t deserve that kind of punishment.”

it’s true—you’ve seen more than enough people get locked away for nearly a decade for possession while assaulters don’t even get a slap on the wrist. it’s deplorable. it’s not fair. and yet, “so you’re punishing these people based on your own system of morals?”

“i was in court one day ah,” a pained wince leaves him when you prod in too deep into the flesh, fingers twitching by his sides in an attempt to keep himself still. he clears his throat before continuing, “i was in court one day. a little girl came up to me and begged me to put her dad away, begged me to do something. and all i could do was hear how the jury declared him not guilty.

“i stopped by her house to check up on her a couple days later. her dad was being violent again, yelling in her face for making a case about him. i decided that was the final straw.

“so yes, i am working based on my own morals. if that deserves me being locked up like the cops or fisk (his nose scrunched up at the name, distaste clinging onto his tongue right next to the tang of iron) say, so be it.”

you work in silence for a bit, focusing on tying the knots in front of you as best as possible. “i don’t think you’re a bad guy for what you’ve done. i just wish you would’ve trusted me to let me in on this secret.”

the knots in front of you are nothing short of sloppy despite your best efforts, the stitch job sure to leave a scar by the time it healed. but it was good enough for now, it stopped the bleeding and it closed the wound. with light pressure, you slowly started wiping away the flakes of dry blood with rubbing alcohol.

a sigh leaves his lips, the man slouching against the wall behind him. “i can deal with me being like this, bloody and beaten,” he utters, gaze directed straight into you in a way that makes you shiver, “but i can’t handle the thought of someone hurting you because of me. that’s why i didn’t tell you.”

your breath stutters in your chest, focusing instead on the work in front of you. it’s easier to swipe and soak the pad instead of trying to figure out of your feelings for the time being. you swipe a couple drops of disinfecting ointment onto the wound, putting a bandage onto the skin.

"i'm still mad at you." it comes out quiet. as cold as you’ve been, you’re also.. simply just tired.

you’re so tired of being angry, so tired of feeling tired, so so tired of feeling like you don’t know how to interact with your best friend. as if one wrong word, one wrong pause could simply…set things off and that’d be that.

and yet, you’ve spent so long being angry at your husband that you’re not sure how to feel any other way. if you’ll even feel anything but indifference when the anger subsides.

"i know."

"and this-” you gesture between the two of you, "—doesn't fix anything. it’s not just me that’s been pushed to the backseat, it’s been your clients too."

a more resigned, "i know."

but a wistful sigh leaves your lips, your hand coming up to rest on his cheek, "but i really want to kiss you right now. i don’t want to be mad at you."

hiromi’s quick to speak up, one of his hands coming up to rest against your cheek. you can’t help the way you melt into the touch, your anger fading away into something akin to longing. “so don’t be mad at me for right now. be mad at me later, honey. be mad at me all you want, be mad at me for the rest of your life. just don’t be indifferent with me again.”

you lean in slowly, breath caught in your throat. it’s awkward at first—you’re out of practice—fingers twitching by your sides until you firmly place them onto his shoulders in a deathly grip, breath caught in your throat, leaning the same way that he does when you’re close enough.

kissing him feels like trying to unlock something you don’t quite have the key for anymore. like trying to revisit an old home only to realize the numbers on the mailbox aren’t for you anymore, that the decorations hanging up aren’t the same old photos of you as a teen. like it’s nothing more than a distant memory.

the thought of that makes you sick. of your marriage being reduced to nothing but good memories. you try it again, his head tilting to the left and yours to the right. and just like that, every piece falls into place. your fingers loosen their grip, one of your hands moving up to his soft cheek.

it’s tentative, the way that his lips slot against yours. slow. his hands move by his sides like he’s also contemplating a difficult calculus equation before they move to your hold your hips. you move forward, back in an arch and he takes that chance to deepen the kiss.

his tongue traces the seam of your lips before they’re parting for him, his mouth swallowing every moan and shaky breath that left your lips. while the previous kisses had been a reacquaintance, these were much more needy. making up for lost time. his lips trail down, placing a small peck against your jaw. against the side of your neck.

“is this okay?” he whispers, his tongue tracing the sensitive flesh of your earlobe. “yeah,” you assure in a breathy whisper, your head thrown back in bliss. his fingers move down to the hem of your faded graphic tee, pulling it over your head with ease. cold air hits your body all once, a contradiction to how warm hiromi was making you feel.

you’re in nothing but an old bra, a simple beige one you pulled out from the back of your undergarment drawer. and yet, higuruma stares at you like you’re an angel incarnate. like it’s a blessing to even be in your presence. his brain short circuits, hands hovering in the air like he’s unsure.

grabbing his wrists in your own hands, you lead him closer and closer to your chest. “wow,” he murmurs under his breath, his thumbs rolling across your pebbled nipples. hiromi’s fingers squish at the flesh, tracing against your underboob. rubbing against all the little spots he knows you’re sensitive: your nipples, your areolas, your side boob.

placing little kisses where his fingers just were, reverent to you after he’s been neglecting his duty as a husband for so long.

your head rolls back, a muffled moan leaving your lips. he’s nothing if not eager to please, “let me take care of you.”

—

“you’re hurt.” you’re with your arms folded across your chest, brows furrowed as you take in the state hiromi’s in your bed. bandaged up and wincing when he moves his stomach too much. you didn’t think when he said let me take care of you, he wanted to jump straight into you sitting on his face.

the harsh look on your face makes his dick twitch.

“and you’re wet. like i said, let me take care of you,” he tries yet again, gesturing for you to come over with two fingers. as stubborn as you can be, there’s really no argument to be made. you pad your way over into the bed, avoiding the bandages on his abdomen before plopping down on his torso.

his hands come up to your hips, holding you in place like this is where you belonged. where you were meant to be.

“if at any point, you start feeling pain or you wanna stop, just let me know.” you jab a finger against his chest. he simply takes the digit, placing a gentle kiss onto the tip.

“yes ma’am.”

you moved up his chest, feeling harsh lines of muscle underneath. your cunt drips onto the thin material of your panties as you get closer and closer to his mouth. plush thighs settle by the sides of his head, nearly acting like earmuffs.

he revels in eating pussy, you know that. higuruma could spend hours in between your legs—jaw slack, fingers drenched and pruned, cheeks flushed, and dick weeping—and he’d still be asking for more. still, you find yourself hovering just above his awaiting mouth. you don’t want to end up hurting him any more than he already is.

his fingers grip onto the flesh of your thighs, leaving indents behind as he pushes your clothed pussy to be right on his lips. “you should know how to listen by now,” hiromi chides, tongue sliding across the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. a shudder runs down your spine, every movement making you hyperaware that your vibrator, well, couldn’t do this.

“i didn’t want you to suffocate,” you retort, fingers flying down to his hair. his lips are everywhere but your cunt, running up your thighs, peppering kisses onto your leg before moving back up again. a scoff leaves his lips, insulted at the insinuation.

“that’d be a dream come true.” his lips latch onto the wet patch of your underwear, sucking onto the thin piece of fabric separating your pussy from him. his tongue traces across your puffy folds, drinking every drop spilling from the lace like he wanted to consume you whole.

drool slips from the corner of his lips, drooping eyes fluttering shut in sheer pleasure while he sloppily makes out with your bottom set of lips. the bridge of his nose rubs against your clothed folds, tip nudging against your twitching clit. your fingers tighten up around his hair, nearly pulling on the roots.

all he does is moan in response.

your underwear’s drenched in a mixture of his drool and your slick when he pulls them off to the side with two, thick fingers. “look at you,” he speaks underneath you, reverence lacing his tone while he speaks to your vagina, “i missed you.”

your cunt clenched around nothing. guess she missed him too.

hiromi spits into your cunt and laps it back up like a man starved, every drop that lands on his tongue akin to the finest ambrosia. his tongue's flat, licking broad stripes from your dripping hole all the way up up to your swollen clit. his lips latch onto the nub, shifting between applying pressure that has you mewling and moaning for more and pressure that has you shifting to get away.

using his hair, you begin to swivel your hips against his awaiting mouth. rubbing your dripping folds across his lips, swiping against him like a card. your lips part into an ‘o’, rubbing your clit against the tip of his nose. “just like that, just use me,” he lets out a muffled groan underneath, his tongue dipping in and out of your hole.

his cock twitched and dripped against the material of his tactical pants, tenting up with each time he pushed his hips up into the air. your hand reaches out, giving him a few palms over the material and rubbing the dampened patch on his pants. “wanna cum already?” you ask in a breathy whisper, your own orgasm building up.

“only worried about you coming,” he responds easily, his own pleasure and needs discarded in favor of satisfying your own. two fingers take over where his tongue was thrusting in and out, pushing through a thin layer of resistance. he slowly began scissoring his fingers in and out, getting you adjusted to the stretch. "f-fuck keep going, just like that, please!"

his fingers curl up about a inch in, pushing against the spongy spot that has you pushing your hips deeper into his face. he switches from suctioning around clit, lips latched onto the nub, to rolling the tip of his tongue around it.

spelling out, ‘I’M SORRY’ in cursive. he mumbles the words like a prayer over and over again against your dripping cunt, almost like he wanted to get it through to you he was indeed, sorry.

“o-ooh fuck!” a strangled moan leaves your lips, thighs squeezing all that much tighter around his head. hiromi's lightheaded—whether that be from your legs squishing his head or from the anticipation of your release. he doesn’t let up, he lets you use him as you please. lets you fuck yourself onto his face, onto his mouth, tug on his hair, everything and anything that you need.

the orgasm that hits you feels like a wave, crashing onto you all at once. your thighs squeeze tighter, the grip on his hair gets tighter, everything gets tighter until SNAP! with one final curl of his fingers against your g-spot, with one final roll of his tongue against your clit, you cum.

clear spurts of your release drip onto his expecting tongue, onto his nose, onto his chin. hiromi doesn’t hesitate to swipe his tongue across his lips, lapping it up like a man finding water in a desert. he pulls out his fingers, immediately putting them in his mouth. swirling his tongue around them to get a taste.

you shift to get off, laying on the side of him. you don’t hesitate to pull him for a kiss when you finally settle down, tasting yourself on his tongue, tasting the remnants of iron from his busted lip, tasting what you’ve been missing. your nails dig into his scalp, your tongue moving against his in complete tandem. there’s no fight to dominate, nothing but just sheer bliss.

your lips move down the side of his neck, pressing a kiss against his jugular that has him resisting the urge to burst already. it’s slow, it’s teasing, the way you move inch by inch down the column of his neck. then you move onto his chest, finding it littered with a couple scars that hadn’t faded yet.

tentatively, your finger traces across the seams of the raised flesh. feeling him tense underneath you. your tongue takes place of your finger, tip tracing across the harsh lines that mark his pecs.

“do you think you deserve to fuck me?” you question, head tilted to the side as you meet his gaze.

hiromi’s quick to shake his head, “god no, i don’t deserve you,” he says it like the sheer notion is ridiculous but he’s quick to add anyways, “but i’ll spend the rest of my life trying to be deserving of you. to be deserving enough to fuck you.”

you shift onto the bed, presenting yourself like the most beautiful of gifts. propping yourself up on your hands and knees, your back in the most sinful arch possible. he’s not moving, not just yet. he’s awestruck, watching your ass jiggle from side to side like a hypnosis.

he snaps out of his trance a few moments later, moving over behind you. he’s quick to pull his pants down, nearly tripping over the pant sleeves when he rushes to kneel over your dripping cunt. his cock slaps against his happy trail when he slides his boxers down, tip flushed a deep shade of pink and dripping drops of precum.

one hand grips around the base, giving himself one tentative pump. you push back against him, shaft rubbing against your puffy folds. slick drips onto the shaft, wetting his cock before he slips inside. you’re still tight when he pushes in, walls tightly clenching around the tip. “there we go, you can take it, sweetheart.”

you nod your head fervently, feeling him stretch you out with each inch he started to push in. he’s thick, stuffing you full with ease. a loud moan leaves your lips when he knocks the air out of your lungs, cock fully snug inside of you and black tuffs of hair against your ass.

he pulls away slowly, your hips moving back to meet his cock. his hands firmly grip on to your hips, keeping you still before he’s pushing back in a deep thrust. it starts off like that, slow and deep, feeling him stuff himself to the brim from this position.

your hips move to meet each of his thrusts, his hands cupping the globes of your ass. “you just need some more, honey?” he questions, his tone gentle even if he was everything but. “more, hiromi, please!”

one of his feet plant onto the bedsheets beside you, the new angle allowing to reach in deeper. to mold your insides to the shape of his cock completely. his hips start pummeling into your sopping cunt, squelch after squelch after squelch ringing in your ears. heavy balls twack against the fat of your ass with each thrust, his own breathing heavy.

your hands give out underneath, your head buried against silk pillows and nails digging into the sheets beside you. his thumb rolls around your clit in quick, tight little circles as your orgasm starts to build up. “c’mon, it’s all yours baby, take it, i’m here,” he whispers in your ear, lips trailing down your back.

your eyes roll to the back of your head, his hips stuttering as he’s close to his own release. hiromi tilts your head over your shoulder, hand on your chin before meeting you for a sloppy kiss. he swallows every shaky moan that leaves your lips, every little i’m cumming baby, i’m gonna cum shiiit that you manage to get out.

you’re a babbling mess when your orgasm rolls over your body like a tidal wave. your pussy clenches tightly around his shaft before your release soaks him completely. he struggles to keep up—you’re tightening up, leaving him barely able to move. his thrusts are swallow and quick, running through the different statutes that come to mind to avoid cumming too soon.

“cum for me hiromi, want to feel you fill me up,” you babble, pushing yourself back onto his cock. his head flies back, unable to keep himself from denying you anything. with two more shallow thrusts and a guttural groan, he’s spurting a thick load that paints your walls white. he doesn’t move just yet—he stays still. feeling your walls snugly around his cock, the air still full of post sex bliss.

his breathing stills, his head coming to your shoulder. he presses one featherlight kiss onto the skin, letting out a relieved sigh. “i love you,” he murmurs, pressing another kiss. it’s the image of tranquility for those two perfect minutes that you sit there still, your heartbeats in tandem.

higuruma pulls off with a loud ‘pop’ echoing across the sex ridden room, dick glistening underneath the moonlight in a mixture of your release and his own cum. he moves across the room, shuffling his way into the bathroom to grab the softest towel he could find.

he lets it run under the sink for a couple seconds before squeezing out the excess, making his way back in between your legs. back home. he swipes the towel in between with care, lightly applying pressure to wipe off the milky trails dripping down your thighs.

“there we go,” he lets out a quiet hum, his lips pressing a small kiss onto your inner thigh, “you did so good for me, my love.” your arms come up, tugging him back to the mattress when he manages to get close enough.

hiromi sets the towel off to the side, making a mental note to pick it up in the morning. he settles back next to you, inching closer like he’s still afraid to test how close you’ll let him. he ends up wrapping one arm around you. “should we call the therapist and say we don’t need her?”

“she’d say this was an unhealthy coping mechanism, husband,” you note, a small laugh leaving hiromi’s lips in response. the air’s light for the first time in months, a nice reprieve from how distant the two of you had been. there’s no hostility, no awkwardness, no tense silence.

no feeling like you’re in bed with a man that’s just out of reach, that feels more like a stranger. he feels like your husband again, feels like the man you exchanged your vows with long ago.

Even more gorgeous than you’d been during those brief formal interviews, between clans and council members who nudged each other at the fact that he had finally chosen a bride. 

You’d swapped out your wedding robes for an actual robe that was much…riskier. Stuck to your skin, glistening in the faint candlelight. You were semi-sprawled comfortably across the bed, having patiently waited for their ‘team meeting’ to have finished. 

And Sukuna would’ve yelled at any of them for gaping stupidly from the doorway, he should have - if he wasn’t gaping stupidly himself, that is. Lips parted, crimson eyes bulging. 

This was the clan leader rumored by some to be a monster, and rumored by others to fight like a monster: now fully frozen at the sight of you. 

It takes about seven different council members and Itadori Wasuke poking Sukuna’s muscular back with his wooden cane to make him move. “Ryo-” Jin hisses in slight concern, fingers starting to itch towards his phone, namely in the sequence of the emergency number he’d memorized for tonight. “Ryo move- you- oaf-” 

Respect for the head of the household be damned, they were deadset on bullying him inside the romantically-decorated room. Finally making him move one foot. Two. 

As soon as he staggers through the entrance, the towering mahogany doors then slam shut behind him. Somewhat snapping Sukuna out of his little reverie - somewhat. He shakes his head free of that vision of you, gaze dropping to the floor- anywhere but where you were sitting, so beautiful and unbothered. 

An heir.

Right, an heir. What was that nonsense about six heirs? Right now, he felt he’d be lucky to get to not faint.

“I uh-” You lean closer with a smile when he starts to sputter out, and the act itself nearly makes him take a step back. Heart rushing to the surface of his tattooed skin, “Ah, I mean-”

He gulps. And almost as if they were sensing the tension inside the bedroom, the group outside abruptly starts up the distant saxophone of a George Michael. It filters through the slight gaps of the doorway and into the thick silence inside. 

You were looking at him with a raised brow, clearly waiting for him to speak first with his interesting reaction.

Which is exactly what Ryomen Sukuna does - exactly why he clears his throat gravely. All seven feet of his figure straightening, toned chest puffing out. Jin had told him to smile before he smoldered, and right now Sukuna does neither. Only asking in grim seriousness-

“So are you uh…open-minded?”

“What?”

“What?”

BANG!

He’d removed himself from the honeymoon suite before you could even blink. 

And as you sat up on the bed in genuine confusion, the clan leader outside - your husband - was crouched against the now-closed bedroom doors. Knees to his pecs, all four palms coming up to cover his face- though, they do nothing to hide the scorching red flushed at the tips of his ears. 

The elders can only gawk; they’d known Sukuna since birth, and never had he acted in this manner. Never had he been so flustered, blushed so bright that it looked like he was steaming from his very skin. Flinching at the touch of his brother, he groans once the older one starts punting him with questions.

Jin squawks, “Is your wife okay- are you okay?”

“Yes- no.”

“Do I need to call the fire department?”

“No.”

“The exorcist-”

“No no no- fuck! She was just so…” Sukuna finally manages to string together more than one coherent syllable, running his hefty fingers down his features, like he wanted to scrub the embarrassment off of him. And the tail end of his response rings out as nothing but a whisper. So small, so shy. “…beautiful.”

He looks up at the circle surrounding him like he was pleading, “So, so beautiful.” Baritone dropping into an even lower volume, he scratches the back of his head like a child recounting a crush. “And she- she smiled at me, heh. What’d I do to end up with a wife like her?”

The elders and family members look at each other. 

Silence.

At least, as much silence as you could get in the Itadori Estate. Because, before long, Wasuke clutches his aged heart and gasps, “No!” Only once every pair of eyes has turned to look at him- “My son has no game.”

The emergency services were called that night. 

Though, it’s more for a health check on his father’s heart than for anything gone wrong with your honeymoon. And Jin thinks that’s pointedly to do with the fact that you don’t have a wedding night - at least, not in the sense of the word. 

After he’d offered Sukuna a general health check-up too (he’d vehemently denied) and a heart check-up in particular (he’d considered) you’d finally ended up walking out of the bedroom. Barely getting through one word of their overlapping explanations before you’d held up a hand. 

“It…actually might be better if I don’t know.” You’d sagely remarked, and quite smartly. Before turning to your new husband, who’d all but cowered at your gaze, “But you need to get some sleep, mister. Don’t think I don’t know about how cranky you get otherwise.”

“Hell yeah, ma’am. So true, ma’am.”

And Sukuna had sauntered back into the marital suite of his own accord, for a night of sleep. Nothing but sleep - though, Jin thinks he caught Sukuna fist pumping in celebration when you insisted he didn’t have to sleep on the couch.

There seemed to be no hope for an heir that night. Or, ever, at this rate.

And the trusty council of elders that were present would later retell the story in the morning after, with varying degrees of humor - some cackling about the fearsome head’s one weakness, others grieving the lack of heirs that the Itadori clan shall now have.

But most had been left with quite a different impression. They eyed each other during breakfast, when you’d come down with no marks, no signs of lost sleep. Surely, there was no other explanation - Ryomen Sukuna was impotent. 

He might not be the sweetest clan leader, or the most empathetic, or clearly the most savvy with the ladies, but he was their leader nonetheless. 

And they had to do everything in their power to help.

.

.

.

“-and then the ol’ man starts playing fuckin- I mean, freaking ‘Careless Whisper’ and then I make a fool of myself-”

“Mhm.”

“-but she was oh-so-sweet about it. Which makes no sense, how can one be beautiful and sweet? I mean, look at me- I’m a right bastard-”

“Mhm.”

“-not that I’m complaining. And then when we shared the bed, heh, she told me ‘goodnight.’ Can you believe that? Goodnight? Obviously, she’s into me.”

“Mhm.” Five-year-old Itadori Yuji looks up from where he’d been playing with blocks on the archery dojo, “Uncle Kuna, can we go play hide-and-seek now?”

But the older man lets go the taut, tough string of his bow- hitting the bullseye of his target dead-on. “You’re right! She’s totally into me- heh, ten points for Sukuna.” It was already nearing sundown, and he’d been cooped up in the Estate’s dojo for hours after the fiasco that was his wedding night a few days ago. 

Nothing else had occurred between the two of you since. For which he was equally as grateful as he was disappointed - obviously you didn’t want to spook him. And obviously he wanted you.

But it wasn’t his fault he’d been trained in the arts of commandeering rather than communication. 

Which is how he found himself with that lil’ nephew of his as a therapist, shooting away arrows with the specialized bow designed for Sukuna’s four beefy arms, and fourfold strength. As if that would help ease the tension.

The clan leader opens his mouth again and it’s enough to make Itadori throw himself back onto the polished wooden floor. Starting off- “And did I tell you that when she told me ‘goodnight’ it was in a tone of like-”

“Ahem.”

If there was anything that could make big, bad Sukuna quieten down, then it certainly wasn’t his advisors, or his older brother, or anything else but you. 

And all you had to do was clear your throat once to signal your intrusion, having wandered your way through the massively sprawling Estate. You’d somehow led yourself straight to him.

You bow politely, “I hope I’m not disrupting.”

“C-course not.” To your surprise, your husband speaks first. “We were just-”

“Talking about you-” You giggle as Itadori instantly runs to cling onto your arms. Excitedly squealing at a mile a minute, “Uncle Kuna says that- that he has a huuuuge crush on you and-”

“No!” Sukuna interjects in panic- that traitor. 

“And- and he liked the way you say ‘goodnight’ and-” 

“Itadori Yuji, I will pay you to stop talking.” 

You’re watching the situation like a tennis match, and Yuji does stop - for about three seconds, that is. Until his voice drops into a conspiratorially low whisper, hands cupping his mouth- “Did you know he also called an exorcist-”

“What the f- I did not?” Husky bass damn near cracking, he rips the little boy away from you. “Scram, gremlin.”

Pushing at his back to make the toddler waddle away and give the two of you some space, Sukuna hastens to straighten up and puff his chest out. Making sure that the loose fabrics of his training yukata would slip aside to flash you with a sliver of his toned pecs, glistened with a thin layer of sweat. 

And when - only when - he catches your eyes dipping downwards, he clears his throat—smooth, Ryomen Sukuna. You’ve made people disappear, you can do smooth- “H-hi.”

His vocals crack.

Nearly passing out from the shame - but you don’t seem to mind. “Hi to you, too. I see you’re working hard?”

“Yeah- I mean no.” As you raise a brow, “Who needs ta work hard when you’re just good?”

“Is that so?” It’s a blatant brag, but one that didn’t go unsubstantiated. Your eyes drift to the side to where targets had been lined along the distant wall, each of them punctured right through the middle with a sharp arrow. “Oh, that’s impressive. I don’t think I could ever-”

“Would ya like to try?”

You’re nearly as shocked as Sukuna at the words that escape his mouth, before he can mull and chew over them first. But that swiftly melts into a look of eagerness once you nod- being handed his hefty bow.

“It’s heavier than normal.” Before you know it, he’s sidled up behind you. Leaned down so close that his warm breath blankets your neck- pointed chin hitting somewhere by your temple, tense core pushed up against you. 

So close. Easily, two of Sukuna’s hands help you hold the weight of his massive bow, and another two fall down to your waist to guide you. “Easy there, mama.”

“Th-thank you-” You’re find yourself stammering from the pure intimacy. And it was just so unfair how pliable he found you - heart racing, mind spinning at the thought - angling you bodily to face the targets. “So I just pull and release, then?”

“Mhm. You pull reeeal hard.” Deep, throaty. You’re noticing just how warm his hands were when they’re on yours, helping you pull, pull, pull back on the feathery edge. “Breathe in reeeeal slow.” You do, and you feel him match yours. “Position it.”

His honed strength helps you find the target, and his hands- oh, but his hands were nearly making you lose sight of the bullseye. “Aaand-” Two of his rough palms draaaagging down your sides for stability for him to tower over you, and then two more gently rubbing over your hands for reassurance as you- “-shoot.”

Schwing–!

It lands dead-center in the bullseye.

He grins, “Hell yeah.” 

“Yes!” You’re hissing, bow still in your arms as you leap into Sukuna’s. It was a brief embrace, just the quickest few seconds - but your husband nearly melts.

With your face tucked into the crook of his neck- his eyes nearly bulge out of his sockets, four massive palms hovering in the air like he didn’t know what to do with himself. In a flash, you’re reaching ‘round your body to let him rest them on your back, and he gasps, “O-oh-”

“Oh?” With a slight chuckle, you pull back, and he nearly whines in agony. But this was the Ryomen Sukuna, of course he can hold it back…to merely a slight grunt of pain. “Thank you for teaching me.”

“Thank you for being my wife-”

“Pardon?”

“Nevermind- I uh-” All four palms come up to cover his face in utter horror- it had been going so well if it wasn’t for the clan leader’s big mouth. Everyday was seemingly an unfortunate reminder that he was related to the blabbermouths that were Jin, Yuji, and…

Speaking of, where was Yuji?

Little did he know that a certain pink-haired toddler was holding a certain group of elders hostage behind the screens that led to the dojo’s entrance. Their bodies, formerly leaned over the doorway to spy on the couple, were now crouched on the floor. 

Disappointed- how could their revered clan leader not take the bait? Impotency strikes again.

But, right now, the masterminds were slightly more occupied with something else. Fingers to mouths, voices in whispers- begging the little boy standing in front of them to remain quiet.

But Yuji only smiles, standing proudly in front of them. He whispers, “Do you wanna play hide and seek?”

The council of the greatest minds in the household look at each other, “Uh…no?” Unsure of what else to say to the boy.

Before their ears are pierced by the most noisy child-like shriek of Sukuna’s name—“Uncle Kunaaaaa—it’s the exorcists!”

An arrow shoots their way. And by the way it strikes precisely into the wooden panels between the elders’ heads, precisely where it didn’t harm anything but their motivations, their egos, and perhaps slightly their heart conditions - they’re guessing it was their loving clan leader that shot it.

.

.

.

Sukuna always did hate stuffy clan meetings.

The ones where documents were piled into columns taller than himself, council men and women spoke over each other to try and earn his attention, and he had to act for hours like he actually tolerated the guest invited that day. All in the name of ah- politics, or whatever. 

And today was much the same - except for one shocking, sudden surprise. You. 

You, seated directly opposite him on the large round table now that you were officially part of the clan. You, perfectly positioned for him to take in every pretty inch of you. You, who he’d give anything just to have beside him and chatting his ear off, or helping with his papers.

And, honestly, with a view like that he wouldn’t even complain about being forced to discuss- what was it again-

“The socioeconomic impacts of clan bonding activities and how they-” Choso - who’d recently started attending for education on the clan - drones in such tired monotone, shrugging at their two-toned guest, Zenin Naoya, without looking up from where he was doodling on some contract. “-could really benefit from those.”

“Tch- don’t talk like I didn’t know that, brat.” Sukuna narrows his eyes down at his eldest nephew.

Only to get a withering eyebrow raise in return, “Well, did you?”

“Yes…” No-

And almost as if he could read the pure lie on his uncle’s face, the middle-schooler has the audacity to put his pencil down and grin. More interested in the happenings of the meeting than he had been in four hours now. “Oh really? Well then, dear uncle of mine, would you care to explain to your nephew who comes up with these bonding activities?”

“The fuck do I look like? Stupid? It’s…Jin.” It was a guess, no one else would do something like that. He turns his face away from Choso and towards you. Politely laughing at something that the person next to you had said-

“And why is it important?”

He grumbles, this damn kid. Absent-mindedly- because oh, how was he expected to focus when your lips move to talk so prettily. As if in slow motion, like in those sappy movies Jin loved. “Uh, socio-something or the other-”

“And what do we hope to get out of today?”

“Erm-” Furrowing his brows, laser-focused on wracking his brain when- you turn his way. All you have to do is look at him for Sukuna to blurt- “Six kids, a summer house, and pets of her choice.” 

In stunned silence, Choso only gravely draws a tally count. 

You: 3

Sukuna: -478

“Oi- I’m at least in the double digits-”

“I think you have bigger things to worry about.” He muters, jabbing a pencil in your direction. “Your wife’s about to get stolen.”

And oh.

Ryomen Sukuna didn’t take kindly to snapping his head over and recognizing that slight glint in Naoya’s eyes; the way his mouth curled up meanly, body leaning just a tad closer to yours whenever you pulled back. Not kindly at all. 

Worst of all, he’d just been hit with the realization that it was that rat bastard who’d been making you laugh while he’d been stuck with duties. 

Simply on opposite ends of the room, and yet, it feels like an eternity until the hulking clan leader rises from his seat. Feet pounding their way over to where you were, your eyes raise instantly-

“Oh, there you are.” You start to smile - only for it to falter, coldly, at the shadowed expression on Sukuna’s face. He looked like he’d just seen a raging ghost, and his expression was downturned as such. 

You couldn’t pinpoint whether it had been the stress or the fact that the future heir to the Zenin clan couldn’t take a hint. But you’re trying to soothe him, “You looked quite busy-”

“I was, ah-” He was always weak to anything you said, “-bonding…activities…socioeconomics.”

Sarcastically, “How riveting.”

“No need to worry, I kept her company, though.” An annoying, grating voice bursts through your bubble. And before you can do anything to stop him, Naoya has his arm thrown ‘round the back of your seat. Around the room, one by one, the elders were starting to turn in their own chairs. Discussions dropping to whisper- “And my father always does commend my networking skills, clan leader Sukuna.”

And you think Sukuna might burst. You think he might just rip into him-

But, no. Instead, he breaks out into a smile, “Ah, young master Zenin, huh? Didn’t notice ya there.” A smile that was just slightly jarring, slightly…dangerous. “I see you have met my wife. Quite charming, isn’t she?”

“Yes yes, quite beautiful.” Naoya waves off with a chuckle, elbowing the taller man where he could reach. Huffing, “Though, I must say, it’s quite smart to let the wife inside a clan meeting. Gives you something to look at, at least.”

You seethe, brows furrowing, “Pardon-” But your husband already has a hand signalling you to seat yourself back down comfortably. A commotion was starting to stir by now, and if anyone was going to make a mess of clan politics and reap the consequences, it would be him.

He could and would take the fall for you.

“Young master Naoya.” He declares in a booming voice, “The Itadori clan has decided that we would so ah- love to indulge you in a practical example of our very own bonding activities.”

As you tilt your head in slight confusion - this certainly wasn’t part of the meeting agenda, and the council seemed to notice it, too, Naoya hums. “Oh?”

“Right now. You’re welcome.”

“What? Now? But-” 

As the lanky man scrambles in his seat, Sukuna grasps the very back and topples Naoya right out of it. “No no, let me.” And all it takes is one hand to lift their guest straight into midair and march him out of the room. 

The door slams shut behind the duo.

And you didn’t need to hear the yelps, or the punches, or the begs for mercy to know exactly what your husband had in mind as a ‘bonding activity.’ 

It seemed the member of the Zenin clan would be leaving here bruised for his words, and it seemed that the elders were strangely…excited at the notion? Buzzing impatiently, tittering to each other. 

It only increases twofold as Sukuna re-enters the meeting hall - knuckles suspiciously bruised, and notably without a pompous heir behind him - and you find yourself fighting back a smile. Muttering some half-hearted lecture about treating guests well, which he seems to lap every word of, you end it off by reaching upwards and kissing the side of Sukuna’s cheek. 

Fleeting and innocent.

But the elders gasp-

“Oh my god- oh my god, it’s happening—”

“My money’s on a girl child being the firstborn-”

“-maybe he’s only half-impotent-”

Keen eardrums catching the whispers and congratulations, you only have the time to catch the tips of his cheekbones smearing bright red - before the clan leader stumbles back out of the meeting room.

“Oh, I think I jinxed it-”

Choso, meanwhile, crinkles his nose and reaches for his eraser and pencil once more. 

Sukuna: -477

“Gnarly.”

.

.

.

“Uncle Kuna—-!” It was inevitable that every single person inside of Yuji’s cute lil’ kindergarten would end up knowing when his father wouldn’t be able to pick him up, and his uncle would arrive instead.

For one, it was all he would talk about the day beforehand. And two, they’d all hear his shrill squeal- except, most students and teachers used to this little ritual were probably shocked at the scream that followed after. “Mama—!”

And you were just as caught off-guard. 

Somewhere, in the distant bushes at the very end of the kindergarten playground, a few elders and Itadori Jin fistbump one another. All those lessons, not gone to waste!

“Ah- Yuji?” You’re fighting the way your voice wobbles in surprise, and it felt like a tiny cannonball had been shot at you with the way he runs straight to you. “What did you say, baby?”

Somewhat confused, two large eyes peak up at you. And his voice is tiny, “Mama?”

Ruffling the curly pink locks of Yuji’s hair, you just-so-happen to glance at the boy’s uncle. Your husband. Who was currently steaming from his ears and flushed bright crimson, veins bulging at his forehead, mouth opening and closing stupidly. “I- you- who-”

He was speechless.

Barely even breathing- honestly, you’re hit with the slight urge to reach forwards and feel for Sukuna’s pulse before a calm voice breaks through. “Ah! I see Yuji’s favorite uncle is here today.” A soft, bowl-cut man claps his hands as he walks up. Your eyes drop down to his nametag and read ‘Haibara.’ “And you must be-”

“My wife-” Sukuna spits out, before another word can leave Haibara’s mouth. “My wife, Jin could never pull anyone like-”

“Excuse my husband.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

With yourself properly introduced - this time with names - you find yourself laughing along to one of Haibara’s anecdotes of Yuji, something to do with a dare and attempting to eat a terribly finger-shaped stick. He smiles breezily at you and hums, “He’s a good kid, and seems to be very fond of you. You should come visit more often.”

“Well, I hope to.” Grinning right back, you squeeze Yuji’s squirming body as Sukuna takes off his tiny back-pack. And you can’t help but think that it all felt so…domestic. 

Evidently, the cozy atmosphere had been obvious. Haibara ponders out loud, “Forgive me for asking, but do the two of you plan on having children soon? You seem like you’d be wonderful parents.”

Oh, you look at Sukuna. And Sukuna doesn’t meet your eyes, though, with his face turned straight ahead- what you could see was the way the tips of his ears were slowly starting to redden.

It seems like ages, it seems like he was waiting for your answer just as Haibara innocently was. And your mouth opens-

“Mister Haibawa, Yuji’s uncle can’t be a parent, he’s already an exorcist.” What the f—the trio of adults snapped their heads down to see that a black-haired boy - another Zenin, confound it - had just tugged on his teacher’s sweater. Butting into the conversation- Sukuna thinks he could recall this boy’s name, something Gummy? Megumi?

“Oh?” Then it wasn’t an orange-haired girl on his other side, “My mommy says he’s unemployed.”

“That, too.”

Somewhere, in the distant bushes at the very end of the kindergarten playground, a few elders and Itadori Jin facepalm. All those lessons, gone to waste!

“Well I don’t think he can be a parent because he looks stupid.” This time, one burly boy with a buzzcut enters the scene. And he was sparing no punches, both metaphorically and literally - he knocks out a good few backhands against Sukuna’s core. 

“That, too.”

“He doesn’t look stupid, Todo.” His nephew whines at him- that’s his boy! 

Sukuna could almost shed a tear, oh, how proud he was. So proud, in fact, that he’s hoisting the babbling boy over his shoulders without a second thought. 

Maybe Jin hadn’t completely failed as a father, after all. Maybe the boy wasn’t a hopeless case and had actually come to appreciate the strong, kind parental figure that was his uncle- “He just looks sorta stupid when he thinks he’ll embarrass himself in front of his wife. Because he does that a lot. That’s all.”

“Like the time with the exorcist.” Megumi nods, sagely.

“Like the time with the exorcist.” Yuji agrees, smacking the top of Sukuna’s head. 

“There- there was no time with the exorcist.” The clan leader tries to clarify to an extremely confused Haibara. 

And the girl - Nobara, according to the nametag on her glittery back-pack - points up at him, accusing. “I like his hair. He also can’t be a parent because he wears wigs.”

Sukuna growls, “You’re just jealous, bob-cut-”

You furrow your brows, “Do you wear wigs?”

“No.”

Yuji giggles, “Will you wear wigs?”

“No-”

“When will you wear wigs?” 

“Never!” Honestly, children these days. He damn near pounces on Haibara, who’d asked that last question.

Megumi - honestly what was this kid’s problem - seems to pipe up for the sake of piping up, “And he steals candy from babies.”

“That was one time-”

“Hey hey-” Without warning, Todo was tugging on Sukuna’s trousers to gain his attention. Snickering as the older man looks down with the most weary face in existence, “You wanna learn how to actually impress fine shyt?”

“What is…fine sh-”

“That’s enough for today. I think.” Their teacher claps his hands, “And Todo Aoi what have I told you about using certain words? Don’t think I won’t have a talk with your guardian again, young man.” Flustered, he throws an apologetic look your way before corralling his tiny students inside. “Now- inside!”

You can finally breathe a sigh of relief - finally, finally. 

Though, you don’t know what bewilders you more - the fact that they listen, or the fact that Todo was the only one that didn’t. And it was all because of the fact that he had Ryomen Sukuna kneeled down to match his height, mouth snarling, but head nodding intently to whatever Todo was whispering in his ear. You look at Haibara, and he shrugs just as helplessly.

“Umm…mister Haibara?” Another one. The pink-haired man’s soul damn near leaves his body as another teeny, toddling monster starts pulling on the teacher’s sweater. 

Likely expecting an encore of the chaos just prior, his smile stretches thin. “Yes, Toge?” And you, too, start praying that it wasn’t any more love advice, or choice words about Sukuna’s character.

Pale hair cut into severe bangs, the boy mumbles in a small voice, “There’s some old men in the bushes.”

Ryomen Sukuna has never run up to a bush to kick it so fast. 

And, later, with Jin left explaining to the teachers and the elders still walking off their bruises, he found himself walking down a softly sunlit road with you. Yuji now fast asleep on his shoulders, and you by his side.

It was a perfect day. Made only more perfect by the gentle tugging of your husband’s fingers towards yours, in midair. In all his years, it’s perhaps the scariest thing he’s done. They hesitate, and then they reach - the slow curves of his digits gliding down your wrist, before interlocking with yours. Warm. Firm. And yet, softer than his palms have ever felt. 

He thinks he catches you smiling, and Sukuna thinks Todo’s advice might not have been so bad after all. 

And from a nearby bush, Itadori Jin pumps his fist in success. Impotency or not, not a complete waste, then.

.

.

.

One night a week later, the elders decide, push should come to shove.

Literally; cold towels were thrust into your hands before you’d been shoved through the damp wooden gates of the Itadori household’s bathroom. It was the largest one, special in the way a large portion of the room was occupied by a steaming hot spring.

And from your position at the very edge of the humid chamber, you could see the toned shoulders of Ryomen Sukuna. Back turned to the door, just the upper half of his body was peaking out of the water. Glistened with dampness, deltoids flexed as he leans his elbows back against the floor.

You’re semi-glancing behind you at the members of the council that had all but thrown you inside- something about ‘marital bonding.’ Which was really just a way for them to take care of their head’s little ah…rumored problem. 

To them, it was perfect - your gorgeous wife comes up to you in a hot spring and…helps. What more could he want? After all, there’s nothing wrong with impotency - there was just something wrong with their clan leader.

You’re game either way.

And you gently knock against the wall to denote your entrance, before walking up to where Sukuna was gawking from now. “Wh-what are you doing here?”

“Helping.” You reply simply, wringing the towels before folding them over his heated forehead. “Do you wish for me to leave-”

“N-no!”

It comes out faster than he’d have liked, more hitched than he would have liked. Honestly, the sentence barely even leaves your lips before Sukuna sits up straighter. Letting sploshes of scalding water drip down his abs, he leans further back against your touch. “I mean- stay.”

“Mhm, I heard you had a long day.”

“The worst, mama.” And part of his response is half-grunted with the way you’ve now situated yourself properly behind him. With your lap now a bed for his damp head, fingers weaving through those coral pink locks. “Had to refurbish the dojo, then take care of the problem with that damn Zenin brat…then donate to Yuji’s…kindergarten, then…promote a few elders… and one I had to…” Heavier and heavier, he was sinking into you with each nimble movement of your fingertips. “-fuck.”

“You fucked an elder before you fucked me?” You raise a brow in humor.

“Huh- no!” He’s growling, steam curling from the water. And as you’d briefly halted your ministrations to tease him, he guides your hands back to move. “I would never…eugh. Shit, can’t even imagine doing somethin’ like that with anyone but you.”

Suddenly, it’s silent. Except for the slow curdle of the water, and the soft grunts that Sukuna was oh-so-desperately trying to bite back. 

Fuck, he was so handsome.

Such naturally chiselled muscles, and dark circular tattoos on just about every joint he had. 

You massage his burning temples, slipping down into the longish length of his hair. “Oh, is that so? And do you imagine it often with me, clan leader Sukuna?”

“Stop being such a fuckin’ tease.” Hissing, Sukuna’s prominent Adam’s apple bobs as he practically begs. And he looked so pretty when he was begging; brows upturned, mouth unintentionally pouty. “How can I help myself?”

“And am I doing anything to stop that?”

“Yes-” Forgoing the massage, Sukuna now stops your right hand. Holding it tightly as he turns his head and presses a kiss to the tender inside of your wrist, hot with water and his blush. “Just existing is enough.”

“Sukuna…”

Your mouth parts, and it’s like a string being drawn- your lips are on his. It’s messy, with the way he’d angled himself from upside down, tilted up just to sliiide the plushness of his mouth across yours. It’s light, like he was holding himself back.

And you knew what he was capable of.

Which was likely what made you reach for the back of his head, pulling him in to deepen the kiss. Gasping, your mouth just barely parts for his hungry maw to clasp ‘round your sugary tongue. Sucking—before-

Before a button clicks, and suddenly the bathroom walls are trembling with lyrics singing ‘I just had sex—’

You could’ve caught whiplash with how fast you’re both staring at the entrance: meeting with the sight of the several elders, Wasuke, and a ridiculously large boombox. Piled onto an embarrassing heap on the floor, they’d seemingly fallen over- likely from their spying over one corner of the door. 

‘And it felt so good—’

“Wrong one dammit- this is what Wasuke was on music.” You’re catching one of them murmur. Just about the only thing they have time for before scurrying away - leaving the boombox very, very behind. And you don’t have to look behind you to know that Ryomen Sukuna was likely seething enough to make the spring water itself bubble. 

Sukuna growls, “Fucking George Michael.”

“Actually I think that’s Akon.”

Sukuna slams his open palm against the edge of the pool, and you have to open up your palms to stop yourself from being splashed. He murmurs, more to himself, “All because I didn’t wanna fuckin’ scare you- not that they’d-”

“Wait, why’d you think you’d scare me?” You ask in confusion.

To which he looks at you in genuine bewilderment, as if that wasn’t even worthy to be a question. “You’re beautiful.” He states, like there were no truer words. 

Before gesturing at himself- those naturally rosy locks, the four arms, the faint slash across his abs where they said his second mouth was to be. Cursed with strength, cursed with power, cursed with looks that defined him as something more than human. “Look at me- just fuckin’ look at me. And that’s not all- how shall I be expected to live a normal marriage when I’ve been cursed from birth? I only ask for forgiveness that I’d been selfish with my choice of you, my wife-”

“Well, I don’t forgive you.” 

It’s silence, and he looks torn between hanging his head in understanding, and taking your words head on.

“Because I think you’re beautiful, too.” You say it honestly. “My beautiful husband.”

And, for not the last time that night, the big, bad cursed Sukuna blushes.

‘Felt so good~’

.

.

.

“Sh-shit—” Your back arches lewdly, allll the way back until your naked, puffy core could reach as much of Sukuna’s mouth as possible. “Think I like it better when you’re like- ngh, this.”

Just a few minutes and one rapid trip to your bedroom later found you with your previous clothes in a heap across Sukuna’s bedroom floor. Your thighs shakin’, hips bucking wildly as you straddled his mouth—no, not his first. 

You were riding his second mouth.

The wildly monstrous one slashed across the middle of his stomach, large and hungry. He’d gaped it open immediately once you’d clamored up his washboard abs, letting the curled tip of his second tongue slide deftly between your inner thighs.

Playfully flickering in patterns straight up to the target of your cunt-

“Haaah, so you’ve decided you like- mmm, this mouth more than me?” One of his four hands teasingly dips downwards to grace your pussy with a solid spank. 

So loud, so wet that it makes his cursed mouth lick its lips in greed. “Really not gonna talk t’me now then? Not even through these lips?” Another one. And it’s letting off the rawest slurp that muffles your own squeal- “Though, I think she disagrees, huh, baby?”

Through gritted teeth, you somehow manage to force out, “Shut up-”

“Alright alriiiight.” Sukuna trails off, seemingly back to focusing on the ministrations of his tongue. 

Your eyes are dangerously on the verge of criss-crossing as he glissades it up every bead of slick escaping you. Laid flat n’ draaaaagging across every inch of skin he could reach, the flexible tip of his tastebuds were just barely touching your treacly folds when-

Spank!

Even harder this time. And your mind whirls stupidly at the stinging sensation that just felt so good- “N-ngh, fuck–”

You were bending so cutely on top of him, and Sukuna can’t help but lean his hulking figure further down the king-sized mattress. “Atta girl.” Bucking up so that you’re fully seated on top of his second mouth now, slick dribbling all down his obliques, his cursed tongue glued to your clit. 

Sticking between your folds, his pinkish tastebuds rover ‘round and ‘round that fat nub where you were most sensitive. Just barely gurgling out, “And here I th-thought you were shy-” 

“And here I thought you were dumbified, hmpf.” With a roll of his eyes, your husband chuckles. “Guess not yet.”

It was as much a warning as he would give you - and it wasn’t a warning at all.

Before the fat girth of his finger is rudely pryin’ apart your pussylips and shoving the first few inches inside. Until you’re being spearheaded by him, he’s trying to scope every inch of you. He’s trying to snake his muscle in until he’s probed into every nook n’ cranny.

“F-fuuuuuck—” Sukuna groans out, watching through half-lidded peripherals at the way your tight hole was trying to suck him up. So thick, he can count every throb of your walls around him, one-two-three-four- “Are we sure yer not dumbified- hah, already? Look how fucking wet ya are, mama.”

“N-ngh, Kuna—”

Your whines are botched with pants, after each time his finger is swabbing its way inside. Fitting in two- moving in the slightest half-ruts just to fit inside- again. And again and again.

Each passing second had him probin’ into a new corner of your pussy - and yet, it still wasn’t enough for the clan leader. Which is why Sukuna finds his tongue slithering back and forth your folds, pushing them apart until he was given a front row seat to your depravity. “See? A damn- fuck- waterpark. Are ya always like this or m’I just special, huh?”

“You’re not gonna be special if you- mmpf, talk so- ngh, much-” The stretch is so incredible that you’re forced to bite down on the gummy insides of your cheek. A necessity if you didn’t want to wake the entire house up tonight.

But Sukuna had other plans.

Rose brows raising in slight surprise, “Ohhhh? That good, huh?” The edges of his sleazy grin twitch once he’s tuggin’ on your dripping wet entrance even further, pumping in the expanse of a third lengthy finger. “M’just gonna take that as a sign m’special~”

“Kuna-”

Oh, you were just so pretty huffin’ and puffin’ atop him like this. It’s enough to make his second mouth slobber with greed, edging dangerously towards the circle of your stuffed hole. “Alright alriiight. Brace yourself, baby.”

“Brace m- wha- oh.”

Before you know it, his fat fingerpads are pushed oh-so-deeply inside. So deep that you think he’s filling out every drivelling orifice, pumping furiously. 

Sukuna fucks you with his fingers like he’s trying to make you remember. Like he’s trying to hook into all of your sweetest spots, the ridges of his joints brush up slightly against your g-spot. You mewl, “It’s so- oh, I’ve never felt so full-”

“Yeahhhh- those fingers of yours can’t do this, huh? Poor thing.” Fauxly cooing, he’s rovering you so open. Your husband’s fingers were so big that he didn’t even have to try to leave you trembling- to leave you whimpering as he pulls out in a quick split-second.

Wordlessly despite your disappointed cries, you crack your teary eyelids open to find that Sukuna was slipping off the silver metal wedding ring off of one of his left hands. And pushing it down onto his slick-glazed right hand- before thoroughly thrusting. “S’gonna be a stretch- gonna be a biiig stretch. You can take it, mama.”

“C-can I?” Your thighs twitch stupidly at the frigid feeling of his ring scraping your soft insides. 

This way, you could pinpoint the exact way he was moving inside of you: in and out in and out, curling to hit your g-spot. 

And Sukuna can tell the exact moment his stirrin’ fingers target your most sensitive spot- because you’re panting, you’re bucking. You’re throwing your head back once he plunges his slick-glazed fingers out to do it all over again and again, until his knuckles hit your pussylips raw. “Hell yeah, ya can. How’re you gonna, mmm, take all of me if you can’t even- oh, take these, hm?”

You’re pouting, “I-I can…”

“What’s that?”

In an effort to prove it to him, you bounce your hips right back into his sloppy cadence. “I can-” And it only makes your cunt squelch even louder the closer you are to his slippery tongue. 

“You can?”

“Y-”

His hips jerk upwards roughly, grazing that ridged texture of his tastebuds from the very bottom of your pussy, up, up, up to the tip of your slope. And it’s loud. “You can?” Your heart races, it’s only then that you realize he wasn’t talking to you - he was talking to your other pair of lips. “Then take it- take- ngh.”

Harder and harder. His probin’ mess was reaching a fever point and you’re rubbing yourself pathetically on the prolonged muscle of his tongue. 

And the more ravenous his cursed mouth became - edging his globular tip nearer n’ nearer to your stretched-out hole - the more ruined he was becoming. Bucking himself up animalistically, two hands of his control the grindin’ of your hips- manhandling you down just enough so that the wetness of your cunt just barely touches his rock-hard cocks. 

“F-fuck!” You’re whining at the feeling of two thick mushroomy tips touching your skin. 

And Sukuna doesn’t touch himself- no matter how many hands he has. Having you on top of him like this would be a sure-fire way to cream himself in his pants before he even started. His pretty lips wobbling, eyes scrunching closer the harder his aching erections throbbed. 

He was so sexy. And you can’t stop yourself from staring- something he notices even when he’s in this state. “Wh-what?” Flinching at the sheer intensity, “The fuck are ya looking at, huh?”

“I’m just th-thinking…” And you have to stop yourself from moaning as he pulls out his plump fingers in punishment. They were glistening, dripping with so much of your juicy sap that Sukuna sucks clean in front of you. 

Before slipping back in—“That I’d- oh- love to make you, mmm, shut up.”

Rolling his crimson eyes, “Oh, you’d love to make me shut up, huh?” And he was so smug. So sure of himself…until the leader catches onto the way you’d been rutting against his second mouth. Riding. And, slowly, those hazy peripherals of his widen- “Fuck…don’t tell me-”

You only nod.

“-you seriously wanna be fucked by my cursed mouth?”

Nodding drunkenly again-

“O-oh.” His head falls back into the satin pillows as you’re slipping it in, the slimy tendril of his tongue finally scouring into where he’d wanted to for so long now. 

It feels incredible. 

Finally hooking ‘round your tight entrance to push in, in, in—he’s just so big that once Sukuna’s unfurling his greedy tongue, it feels damn near never-ending. And you felt so tight pulsing around him, squeezing him inside once, twice, thrice. “Ya- ya really are gonna be the death of me- fuck!”

You start to ride him and it makes the big, bad Ryomen Sukuna mooooan, twitching his way inside of you. Since you were already softened up by his fingers, it was easy work for him to pull out and immediately replace himself with those rude tastebuds of his. 

Straightened out so he can probe around your walls, the length of his cursed tongue was pumping n’ pumping.

You’d never felt anything like this before. And you swear you see the mouth on his belly chuckle darkly as he fucks you like he would with his cocks. Salivating. Sploshing your poor insides until you have him memorized. 

Sukuna’s tongue swerves along your walls until he brushes the very back of your cervix, softly mushing it in. Again. And again. And again—“Fuh-fuuuuck—” You’re gurgling out, wet wads of saliva dribbling down each side of your lips. “Who’s the one dumbified now?”

“Wh-what- ngh-” His eardrums were popped from the pure pressure, barely able to make out your words.

And through the constant rams of his tongue, you manage to string together- “I-I said, who’s the- oh, dumbified one n- oh!”

“You.” In that very moment, he has his bumpy tastebuds glued to your g-spot, his hips arching right off the tense bedsprings, core tensed. Sukuna slashes his cursed mouth into your favorite area and grooooans, “Still you.”

Mouth prattling nonsensically, “Th-that’s cheating-”

“Nuh uh.”

He squeezes your perked clit with the tips of his rude fingers, still with the ring on one of them. And the backs of your eyes explode with white-hot pleasure at the dual pleasure - his tongue fucking you ferally, his digits teasing your clit. “Yes it is- hngh, because it’s gonna make me…”

Cum.

You were so close, you could feel it in each swab of his tongue. Gaped open even wider for the most maximum movements, each thrash is angled just right against your g-spot.

Just right to stretch out your glistening walls until they’re taking the shape of him. And he hums, “Yeahhhhh— all over.” Your clingy slick is drenching his abs by now, like a waterfall that he’s scooping up with a fourth hand. 

One on your clit, two on your hips to move you pliably up n’ down his length, and his final one getting absolutely soaked. Sukuna brings them up to his primary mouth to suck off the layers of candied slick, smearing it all over his lips like some delicacy. “Yeah, allll over now, mama. Make a hah- mess of me.”

Your jaw unfastens as you watch him clean himself off, every single drop. “Oh my…hngh.”

“What? Mmm, jealous?” Ruder, harder. It was just so sloppy how his mouth rovered all over your cunt, slippin’ and slidin’ back and forth at a constant pace. “Maybe if you were, hah, patient, you could’ve gotten that.”

“As if I’d want that…” You’re huffing, stubborn.

“My wife, you’re just- about- to cum- on me.” The space between each word is slashed with a push of his rovering fat tip, and a thorough squeeze on your clit.

To which you’re shooting back- “And you were about to cum- ngh, untouched.”

And you think he’ll tease you back. You think he’ll bully you until you’re driven mad - but Ryomen Sukuna was moaning in agreement.

Speeding up the pace of his velvety tongue, he’s slithering it with a deep bash against your g-spot. Grunting, “Can you blame me?” Harder. Something at the back of his throat cracks. He begs, “Such a pretty, oh, fuckin’ wife like you and- and I’m expected to stay calm?”

Hiccuping, “I- I don’t- Kuna, I’m not gonna last-”

Faster. “M’expected not to get pussydrunk? Expected to not fucking- lose it. F-fuck-” Sloppier. 

And you don’t get to hear what the tail end of his sentence might have been. Because with a few more vulgar strokes, you’re breaking apart—cumming. 

Lids cracking with tears, lips wobbling out whines.

His name, over and over again. Your cute noises are so loud that he has half the mind to wonder whether those damn elders will hear, “Cum—ing-” You announce, belatedly. Body shaking with each peak of your high, “Feels so- so good, oh.”

“Does it, now?” He babbles away, drunk on your honeyed pussy. The sheer primal clench of your walls almost made it hard for him to fuck you through your wave of bliss. “Good- good, atta girl, cream all down my t-tongue now.”

The curvaceous tip of his tongue was constantly pricking your g-spot, and it only drags out your orgasm even further. Until you were nothing but a sobbing mess, “Am- oh, I am.”

“Mhmmm— go ahead.” Your thighs twitch, head dropping backwards as the last few dredges of your high are pounded away. “Go ahead- take it. Take it all out on me.” With a few twinges of electricity that zap down your spine, you can finally manage to crack open your eyes. 

But you notice that just as you’ve reached your high, Sukuna did, too. 

Or, at least, he was trying oh-so-desperately not to.

As your pace lazes, his two hands on your waist glide down to his plump, aching erections. Both sets of thumbs rover on top of his leaking orifices, squeezing just so he won’t leak out in cum. Stopping himself from cumming untouched. 

And that makes you huff, “Kuna…” Your newfound nickname for him makes him flush, and you instantly swat away his hands. “Want it now.”

“Cheh-” Those hazy, blood-red eyes of his narrow, and somewhere in the distance, you can hear the tight snap of his underwear being pulled. “What a spoiled lil’ wife…”

But that wouldn’t stop him from indulging you, of course.

Sukuna breathes in heavy puffs, and you barely even have the time to catch yours before he’s immediately clawing onto the right side of your ass cheek with one hand.

Usin’ that sinful leverage to manhandle you straight down onto one of his plush tips, the thick circumference of his shaft throbs against your hole and you moan. Head snapping down- “Fuck.”

Oh, fuck.

He was so…big.

And that was being humble- you’d come to learn that not only was Sukuna gifted with extra height and limbs, he was gifted with extra size too. 

Two fat, veiny lengths laid between two meaty thighs, they were colored the prettiest tan flush on their tips. Dribbling down heaps of precum that puddled between the two of you. By now, the curly pink hairs at the bottom of his bases were already drenched, and his ballsack was so tight with need. 

 Sukuna was so hard that every throb was visible. So big that it made your thighs squeeze together.

Mentally, you’re calculating just how it might be possible for him to fit inside you. Before his rough tone cuts off your thoughts, “Ah ah- we can count together, mama. Say it w’me now-” 

“Wha- one!” Almost laughable, he’s then bullying in just the thickened front of one cock. They were stacked vertically, and as you get pierced by the lower one, his upper one was rubbin’ primally on your front. 

Sukuna’s mean fingers draw an invisible line from up your treacly slit, measuring. “Mmm- s’more like two inches.”

“Two-” You blabber, “Then how much more-”

“Guess we’ll just have to find out, heh~”

And he meant it.

Before long, Sukuna was fucking up into you furiously. Ferally. Thrust after half-thrusts just to fit his incredible size inside, “Tha’s about four…mmm, more three.” He’s drunk on your pussy, counting away how many solid, sopping inches managed to be squeezed in each time. In a split-second, your poor pussy’s being spanked. “You too, baby.”

“It’s just so- ngh—” Your head throws back for the nth time tonight, singing in synchronization with the creaks of the bed. 

It’s like he was jackhammerin’ you, mazing your slick-filled insides with the globe of his cockhead. Sukuna was so long that it was easy to massage your every sweet spot- again and again. “Whaaaat? Can’t take it? Fuck, wee’re only about-” On your tummy, he measures out how far he’d slid inside by now. “S-six inches, still. About halfway?”

Your eyes bulge—halfway?

It’s a shock so large that the rest of your body loosens up, weakened. Just perfect for him to grab onto your hips, your thighs, one hand on your neck to jostle your cute body up n’ down his cock.

“S’it too much for my, mmm, good wife?” Mercilessly, he’s spitting between your ajar mouth. “Took my tongue but you can’t even take one of my cocks- aw, c’mon now, mama.”

“I-I-”

“I-I-I- whaaaat?” Octaves higher. Your husband leans in until his heated breath burns the shell of your ear, whispering, “Gonna hafta speak up, y’know? Unless ya want me to- fuck- it out- of you-”

And you always did surprise him. Because where the head of the Itadori clan expected to be met with a few sobs, a few pleas, you’re only straddling his toned hips tighter. 

Swervin’ your hips down in a dizzying figure-eight to help him stuff your cunt full of him. And even though it still wasn’t enough to bottom out completely, you look up at him through teary lashes. “I want both, Kuna.”

Sukuna’s pink lashes flutter, his breath catches. “Wh-what?” And he stutters. Oh, you’d made him stutter - just as nervous and awestruck as he was on your wedding night.

“Both.” You can only repeat the word.

Because at that very second– before your response has even graced his very ears, he’s rutting up into you like an animal. Like a dog in heat, Sukuna’s crushing your front to his abs and his cocks to your cunt.

Pap!

“Fuck…” He hisses at the sting of flesh slamming on flesh, “Eleven. What was that?”

And you’re being dumbified by the sheer stretch, not only had he started kissin’ your puckered pussylips with his second cock - he was starting to press inside. No hesitation, no waiting around for you to get used to the stretch. Sukuna was hungry. 

You somehow choke through wads of your own spit, “More- both- oh fuck!”

“What? S-say it again-” He’s like a broken record at this point, and so were his plunging cocks. Deeper n’ deeper. Your drivelling entrance was now stretched out so widely over the circumferences of his bases, sobbing just as much as you were. 

“Bo-”

“Twelve- again.”

It was a damn wonder that he could still spit out coherent words. Stammering. Heaving.

The hand of Sukuna’s that’d been caressing your front was now slithering down to cup both his shafts. Guiding them upwards to press in—“Gonna have ya take it a-all until here-” You snap your head down to see what he was talking about - only to catch a lil’ you’d missed in your observations of his size before. 

Those two ring tattoos at the base ends of his cocks.

The sight itself is so lecherous that it has you moaning- “Oh, yes- both.”

“Yeah? So sit pretty and take it, baby.” They were glistening with your sultry sap, nearly kissing your folds by now. “Allll the way until m’tattoos- got it, girl? Alllll the way until…” Stupidly, you’re nodding. And he can only breathe through clenched teeth, “Fuh-fuck! Thirteen.”

Thirteen.

Thirteen entire inches - each.

You’d finally reached the tattoos. And they were stuffed pretty n’ puffily inside you. Throb-throb-throbbing away against your every tiny orifice, Sukuna didn’t even have to try to mold your gooey cunt to him. 

As you open your mouth to demand him to move, he plunges in two of his thick fingers. Messily dragging himself towards the back of your throat, “Tch- such a dangerous fuckin’ mouth. M’gonna hafta fuck that outta ya.”

You’re whimpering, your jaw dangling agape perfectly for him to spit inside. And then his second mouth—targetting your pussy with a thick glue of spittle.

At least he was nice enough to give you an actual semi-warning this time.

Because before long, two hands are clawing at your sides. Pinning you down so that his two shafts can prick your cervix neatly, bottomed out and yet still trying to go deeper.

When he finds that futile, Sukuna bodily bounces you up n’ down his upright erections. “Oh my god- o-oh my god.” One of his angular shafts was bashing in your sponged cervix, and the other was just below n’ cutely rubbing on your g-spot. “Fuck it just feels so- good!”

“Aaaaatta girl, enjoy it.” With a hand on your throat, he bends you back into an arch. 

The pressure is almost too much - so much. You find your body naturally torn between running away and yearning for more, more, more. Though, luckily, the clan leader’s there to help you make that decision. “Nuh uh, no runnin’, baby. Put your back into it- taaaake it, you see how much she likes it?”

“Can- can hear-”

“Mhm—”

And truly, your overfilling pussy was so loud. Every splatter of precum inside you made the most primal squelches- and the volume? 

The sheer sploshes of his gooey translucent sap was enough to bloat your pussy. But now with two plump, vein-covered cocks of his probin’ your innards, he was fucking a tummy bulge into you. You gasp at the feeling, “I d-didn’t even know that was- hck! possible-”

“Heh, course it is—And y’know how to make that cute lil’ tummy bulge of yours even bigger?” Sukuna beckons you closer, like he’s about to tell you a secret.

Even though, really, he’s manhandling you like a ragdoll. Reeling you in until his scorched hot lips were grazing your own, murmuring. “I just…hafta…fuck a baby into you, my wife.”

Almost on cue - like a little preparation - both of his strawberry-red divots stream out a few beads of precum. Splattered against your walls, they drip n’ cream down the sides of your pussy and make you see stars. “I would like that- oh, I would- I would like that.”

“Mmm— and what about you?”

Evidently, your needy cunt’s in agreement, too. Because the wettest noises suddenly let off from between your legs- and only later do you realize that it wasn’t just because of how damp your pussy was. No, it was because of his second mouth.

Tonguing down the shimmery sheen of slick upon each of your thighs, he licks up every drop of juice you were leaking. Flicking the curly end of his tongue at your clit-

“Ah ah- focus on me.” Sukuna snaps you out of your high with a light spank on your slope, and a literal click of his fingers. 

“B-but how can I when it feels so goood—”

“So goooood, huh?” He drags it out purposefully, pressing his thumping veins against the roof of your channel. 

Sukuna knew the effect he had on you. He knew how to target your favorite spot in strikes so precise that it left your toes curling, vision flashing with white. “Tell me-” Right now, he had one hand smearing apart your folds to better let his tongue slip between them. Another two hands clung onto your waist to help you move, and the fourth and final was grabbing your face. Pushing your cheeks together pathetically, “Can’t focus? Awww, my poor wife. Are that- oh, useless at focusing on anything that isn’t my two c-cocks right now?”

“N-ngh, Kuna—” Cute. How cute. Your dilated pupils were swirlin’ in circles inside the whites of your eyes, comically pounded stupid after each stroke upon stroke.

“S’that the case, huh? Is that why my mouthy girl is so- oh, fuck- quiet now?” He’s almost snickering- it’s so ruthless. 

Heavy hips pressuring up into you. He was pounding you in rough thrusts, all the way from the mazing curve of his cockheads to those tickling tufts of pink at his very bottom. And Sukuna has the audacity to spit—“Fuck, mama. Do you even know your name right now?”

Your brain was too hazy, merely sparking with twitches of pleasure. You’re left blubbering nonsensically for a few seconds, until his tongue slaps your buttony clit. Startling you into answering, “I-I…”

“Heh, do you even know mine?”

“K-Kuna—” You might not remember your own name by now, but screaming Sukuna’s over n’ over had permanently branded his into your mind. 

And so you look up at your husband’s handsome, leering features for any recognition. Only to find him tutting, “Now now, how disa- oh, disappointing. I thought you’d most importantly know who I am, at least.”

“Then…clan leader?”

“Nuh uh.”

Pouting, “B-but ”

“B-b-b-but-” He’s mocking, buttery tongue now rubbin’ your nub raw. You felt overstimulated enough to press your chin between his puffy pecs, like cushions. Sheening out drool all over his skin- “Say my title before you cum, baby.” You listen with bated breath, “M’your husband. And m’always gonna be your husband.”

“M-my husband?” Your mouth drops - and you’re unsure whether it’s because of his words, or the sudden increase of his tempo. Hot and hard.

His twin, rock-hard crowns plummet all the way until you swear you can feel him poke your lungs. Throbbing at a thunderous staccato, he breathes—“Gonna be your husband that fucks you like th-thiiiis—” Punctuated by a few sloppy drags of his vein-decorated lengths, “Gonna be your husband that eats you out like m’starved.” A few hearts that he’s drawin’ on your clit with his extra prolonged tongue.

“Fuck- fuck I’m gonna—”

As your sobs break off, his roughened hand dips from your throat to the slick n’ precum dripping down your thighs. And you faintly notice the way he’s using the moisture to write out his own name—

Ryomen Sukuna. 

Signed off with a little heart on your skin, “And m’gonna be your husband that…” And a second heart right above where your womb was, where he was jackhammering into your womb like no other. Flooding it with copious knots of cum like he was practising for something else soon. 

Sukuna leans down sweetly so that his lips trace your earlobe, whispering. “-breeds this pretty pussy alllll full.” Tapping the front of your pussy, like he was just imagining it.

And that does it for you. That does it.

Before long your head falls into the crook of his neck with a dull thud, so utterly dumbified on your sudden orgasm that you can only blabber. “Kuna- Kuna—!” 

Your thighs were shaking, cunt fluttering with each spasm of pleasure.

And if Sukuna was going to fuck you through your high, he was going to fuck you through your high. Every probe of his rovering cocks increased your bliss tenfold, exact hits to your g-spot. 

Sobbing, “Please-” You can only hold onto his flexed, tattooed deltoids for dear life. Clawing down his skin due to the constant stimulation, you bow your spine backwards and meet his ferocious thrusts. Riding out the euphoria- spark after spark that made your toes curl.

Grunting, he just felt so used right now. And he loved it. “Yes yes yes- let this entire house know. Let that whole council ngh- hear how good of a husband I am to you.”

It lasts until you’re gurgling on your own whines, zaps of electricity still shooting from your cunt. “Let them-” And Sukuna dares to smush your tear-wettened cheeks together to coo, “Fuck, what’s that–? What’s that pretty mouth hafta- hngh, say t’me?”

And you somehow manage out, “I-inside.” A shaky hand of yours snakes down to part your pussylips wider, helping his roverin’ tongue. “My husband…”

Ryomen Sukuna’s eyes widen, his kiss-bitten lips part.

You could almost hear the deep, trembling gasp that he’s inhaling. Letting out only five words—“I l-love you, my wife.”

You aren’t granted the time to formulate a response- before his thick, battered cockheads start spilling out. Flooding your cunt in mere seconds, you’re just dripping down your thighs in thick clumps of his seed.

And his cursed mouth is more than happy to indulge in all the miry ribbons of sap, lickin’ all upwards until a thin, ivory gloss coats its lips. Sukuna looks down and groans, “Oh fuck- oh fuck fuck fuck fuck-”

His flush was scorching, face scrunched in pleasure. You’re purring, “You’re so pretty, baby—”

“Ah, m’so glad I married ya.” He can’t stop the lil’ confession that leaves his mouth. Heart too full- your cunt too full. And if you saw one of the strongest, most vicious clan leaders in existence smile through a fiery blush n’ his pussydrunk tears, then you mercifully don’t comment.

“M’glad I married you too, Kuna—” 

And you’d felt nothing like this before. Having his gluey cum splosh around inside of you, both of his lengths were shoved in so deeply that they were constantly coating your cervix in white. Your womb.

Your deepest orifices that leak out as Sukuna plants a hand on your tummy and presses, watching with bated breath as his seed gushes out of you like a waterfall. “Fuck- didn’t think it would be like th-this, ngh.” He was hypnotized, making an even bigger mess of you. “Didn’t think that it would be s-so…” Addictive.

He doesn’t finish his sentence. For now.

Red eyes teary, Adam’s apple gulping. You’d completely sucked him dry by the time that Sukuna was pulling out of you. The matching mushroom tips of his shafts twitching, reddened and sensitive. 

He hisses as they bob in the air for a few seconds, before-

“Kuna- oh, fuck.”

Before you were flipped over and pressed deep into the mattress. Your legs on his shoulders, your knees near your tits—and his mouth over your overstimulated cunt. 

Letting you cream all down his chin, Sukuna has to swat away his cursed mouth just to get a taste of you himself. And the moment his plush lips touch your glazed folds- you’re trying to run away. Failing. 

“Now now, my wife.” Being draaaaagged back down by all four of his big, beefy arms. Sukuna pecks exactly six open-mouthed kisses on your sloppy hole, his lengthy pinkish tongue coming out to sluuurp—“I remember something about…six heirs?”

Oh. 

.

.

.

“Y’know, there’s really nothing wrong with impotency.”

Wasuke grunts, a few elders nod. “Agreed.”

“But maybe he’s taken a vow of celibacy-”

“Maybe his dicks fell off.”

“Choso Kamo!” It was never too early in the morning for Itadori Jin to squawk at his sons, especially when they were in the middle of what was undoubtedly an exceptionally important subject of conversation - the two of you. 

He wags his butter knife like a weapon, “We do not say those words in front of Yuji, and especially not in front of our toast.” Before reality sets in and he drags a hand down his face, “But yes…that is possible…”

Wasuke deems it to be the perfect time to chime in, “Bah! I don’t care if they fell off or if they multiplied- I just want grandkids.”

“Father, might I remind you that it was you who decided to interrupt their little moment last night?” A vein pops out beside Jin’s temple, and in his periphery can see the other guilty elders shift in their seats. 

The old man does, too, but still in denial. “Slander! That is propaganda that I will not be falling for-”

“Father, we have multiple eye witnesses. I am an eye witness.”

“And what were you doing spying with us?”

“…”

As Itadori Wasuke rests his case, the winding table falls into perhaps the first quiet of the morning. Somewhat tense. Somewhat anticipating. That is, until an oblivious Yuji nearly upturns his bowl of cereal to chime in—“Exorcist-”

“What? Choso, did you let him watch your-” Jin starts- and then stops. Because then he’s seeing exactly what his youngest son was looking at - you and Sukuna.

Well, more like you in Sukuna’s arms. It seemed that you were having some trouble waddling down the Estate’s multiple flights of stairs, painstakingly taking it one at a time to enter the dining room. And he has half the mind to nearly ask what’s wrong, perhaps even get up and help you himself- until he sees it.

Oh, it was hard to miss.

He sees it, and so does everyone else within a five mile radius: the bite marks, the bruises, the slight weariness in both your eyes from lack of sleep. It almost looked as if you two had been thrown to the wolves.

And his younger brother often did forgo a shirt for breakfast, but now he’d haphazardly thrown on a yukata. One that showed off such feral scratches disappearing down his back, his neck, fuck- maybe even his thighs?

Jin drops his butter knife, Choso exits the table, and Wasuke…was he even breathing? Hell, Jin was sure that a few of the surrounding elders had honest-to-heavens fainted right then and there.

Nearly everyone knew what happened.

Except for a beaming Itadori who was the first to gain your dual attentions, squealing out a “G’morning–!” that you both reciprocate in hushed, hoarse voices. Fuck, he even swears he heard Sukuna’s gruff baritone crack.

No one comments, of course, for the dark glint in their clan leader’s eyes promised sure death if they did. Though, Jin does roll his eyes at a few of the whispering council members—

“What a glorious, wonderful day it is. I truly do believe in miracles-”

“My bets are on a girl- but a boy would also be-”

“Akon worked?”

He doesn’t think he can judge, though. Not when he’s immediately pulling out his phone to text Yuji’s teacher, Haibara, about the salacious new updates. Ah, can you blame him? You two would make the prettiest lil’ babies. 

Finally, you and Sukuna finally take your seats at the clan table. Grinning. And by the looks on your faces, Ryomen Sukuna wasn’t impotent. Not at all. 

Though, it wouldn’t have mattered anyway.

The Itadori family sips their tea.

A/N. *Also sips tea* Hope you have a lovely week!