calico

You didn’t bother asking any questions as she dragged you into the bathroom after her. And when she pressed you up against the door with a stern expression on her face, you didn’t even push. You knew why you were here. You’d been teasing her shamelessly all day. Touches under the table, subtle sex jokes, etc. Both in front of your friends and in private when no one was around.

“Do you know how hard it is to focus when you do shit like that?” She finally spat out, trapping you between the door and her body with no space to escape. You could tell she was being serious, having let a lot slide the past week you’d done this to her. And yes, you were doing it on purpose to see how much she could take. You didn’t know what her breaking point was, but you didn’t plan on quitting.

“When do you ever focus on what’s happening anyway?” You quickly teased back, not stepping down from whatever you were trying to accomplish. “I can’t remember one time you’ve ever-”

Before you could finish, she cut you off. A muffled gasp escaped you as she smashed her lips against yours, finally shutting you up. You weren’t expecting this to escalate so quickly, but you couldn’t complain when you were the cause of it.

She pulled away from the kiss with your bottom lip stuck between her teeth before letting it go and leaning in again to trail a few wet kisses down your neck. You felt her warm hands slip under your shirt, reaching around to your lower back and pulling you closer against herself. Suddenly the room felt smaller than it was, and heat rushed throughout your body at the feeling of your girlfriend all over you. It made your mind feel all fuzzy.

“Fuck me. Right here.” And some kind of daze you must’ve been in. Because when your girlfriend spoke, you barely registered what she said.

“W-what?” You stuttered out, not expecting the request. Especially not here at work. Your face flushed and ability to speak went away. You could feel your body reheating again, and the sight of her unbuttoning her own jeans and slipping them off didn’t help the situation happening between your own thighs.

“Isn’t this what you wanted? All that teasing and now you can’t even handle this?” She teasingly coaxed with a smug look on her face, taking your hand and shoving it under the fabric of her soaked underwear. “Touch me, baby..” She rasped in your ear, guiding your hand herself until you began moving it yourself.

A shaky breath escaped you as you began tracing tight circles over her clit, maintaining eye contact with her as you did so. And the way she was staring you down while biting down on her bottom lip didn’t help your own achy body. Without wasting another second, you slipped in two fingers and began pumping in and out. Her own breathy moans graced your ears, hips grinding down against your fingers like she couldn’t get enough. “Goood girl.. just like that.” She continued to praise you, already feeling her own orgasm approaching.

Her own thigh nudged yours apart, hands now on your hips guiding you to grind down against her. Quiet moans echoed through the bathroom, your fingers going at a quicker pace that matched the one of your hips grinding against your girlfriend’s thigh. You could feel her chest heaving against yours, high pitched moans escaping her as she buried her face against your neck to muffle them. “I’m so close..” She whispered against you, fingernails leaving crescent shaped marks against your sides.

“Me too..” You choked out, back arching and body pressing into hers as your hips jerked against her. You added a third finger and curled them just right, causing her to gasp and let out a louder moan. Her own hips jerked against yours, whimpers escaping both of you as you felt your peak approaching at the same time. You chased it together, then finally slowed down and helped each other ride it out.

You helped each other freshen up afterwards, doing as much aftercare you could possibly do in the crying bathroom.

“Well.. that was fun.” You glanced at her through the mirror, watching her fix her hair.

It took a second for her to respond before eventually looking back up at you with a stern expression on her face. “Don’t do that shit again, y/n.”

A moment went by where you thought you were actually in trouble, expression dropping and changing to one of guilt. She noticed that and chuckled, reaching out to grab your hand. “I’m joking. That was really good.”

You let out a breath of relief, realizing you hadn’t even noticed you were holding that breath. You squeezed her hand and smiled, bringing her hand up to your mouth and pressing a kiss to the back of her hand.

“Wow. Supportive.”

“I support you by keeping expectations realistic.”

She flashed a sideways grin, then reached to turn the music down when a song she didn’t like came on. The inside of the car felt warm, familiar. A space you’d slipped into enough times that it didn’t feel like borrowed air anymore.

“You hungry?” she asked. “I’m debating a drive-thru but also debating self-respect.”

“Those are mutually exclusive?”

“Completely.”

You laughed. Her smile lingered a second longer than the joke needed. Then she glanced away, drumming her fingers lightly against the wheel, energy shifting.

It wasn’t loud tonight. Not chaotic. Just tuned in.

“You were good today,” she said, softer now. “Like, not even joking. I kept looking over to see what you’d do next.”

“Same to you, I’m always doing that with you.”

She gave a tiny shrug. “That’s why I love the improv, we get to play off each other, not to the camera. You’re intentional. It’s cool to watch.”

The compliment landed heavier than her usual teasing. The car slowed at a red light, and she finally looked over properly. Not quick. Not passing. But clear.

Her hand bumped your knee when she shifted. Neither of you moved away.

The light turned green. Someone honked. She jolted forward with a quiet “my bad,” but her smile stuck, small and private.

When she pulled up outside your place, the engine idled, headlights washing the curb in pale gold. You reached for the door, then paused when she didn’t say the usual “text me when you’re inside.”

Instead, she leaned back in her seat, studying you like she was deciding whether to make a joke or something more real. 

“Can I try something?” she asked.

You nodded.

Her hand slid off the steering wheel and hovered over the centre console for a second before settling, palm up. Casual, but not really.

You placed your hand in hers.

She exhaled through her nose, a tiny laugh escaping. “Okay. Cool. Just checking.”

“Checking what?”

“If I made that up in my head or not.”

Her thumb brushed across your knuckles, slow, absent, like she wasn’t thinking about it even though she definitely was. The joking energy faded, replaced by something steadier.

“You make it kind of hard to be normal around you,” she said.

“You’re never normal.”

“Exactly. This is me trying.”

You shifted closer, drawn in by the warmth of her hand, the way her voice dropped when she wasn’t performing for anyone else.

Her eyes flicked to your mouth, then back up. A beat passed. Then another.

“You good?” she murmured.

Instead of answering, you leaned in.

The kiss started tentative, like both of you were half-expecting to laugh and break the tension. But when you didn’t pull away, when her hand tightened around yours and her other came up to your jaw, it deepened, slow and grounding.

She smiled into it for a second, because of course she did, then settled, focus sharpening.

When you finally pulled back, the air between you felt charged.

Angela rested her forehead against yours, voice quieter than you’d ever heard it. “Yeah… okay. Wow.”

You huffed a soft laugh.

Her grin returned, softer now, less performative. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while. Just didn’t want to make things weird.”

“You didn’t.”

“Give me time,” she said lightly, then squeezed your hand. “I’m kidding. Mostly.”

She pulled back, searching your face, checking. When you didn’t move away, didn’t let go, something in her shoulders relaxed.

“So,” she said, tone easing back into that natural, smooth humour, “I could drive off and be normal about this… or I could invite you to hang a little longer and pretend this was always the plan.”

You smiled. “Which one are you hoping for?”

“Second one,” she admitted, no hesitation.

You hesitated with your hand on the door handle, then glanced back at her.

“…Do you want to come in?” you asked. “I have snacks and movies we can watch.”

Angela blinked, like she hadn’t expected the offer to land so fast. Then her mouth tipped into a grin. “Snacks and bad movies? That sounds perfect.”

You opened the door, and the cool night air rushed in as she cut the engine and followed you up the path.

Inside, your place felt softer than the world outside. Lamps instead of overhead lights, a blanket tossed over the couch, the faint smell of something sweet lingering from earlier. Angela paused just past the doorway, taking it in like she was scanning a set.

“Okay,” she said, toeing off her shoes. “This is so cute. It’s so you.”

“Thanks, Ange.”

“Some people live in chaos, and you weren’t even expecting me to be here.”

You laughed, heading toward the kitchen. “Popcorn or chips?”

“Both. I need options.”

She wandered after you, leaning against the counter while you grabbed snacks, close enough that you could feel her presence even when she wasn’t touching you. The space felt smaller with her in it. Warmer.

“You pick the movie,” she said. “But if it’s emotionally devastating, I’m leaving.”

“Noted.”

You settled on the couch, a careful distance between you at first. Movie playing, bowl of snacks balanced between you, the low hum of dialogue filling the quiet.

It didn’t take long before the distance started shrinking.

Angela shifted, tucking one leg under herself. Her knee brushed yours. Stayed there.

A few minutes later, she leaned back, arm stretching along the back of the couch, not quite around you, but close enough that if you leaned in a little, it would be.

You felt the tension build in small, quiet increments. Every shared glance when a joke landed. Every accidental touch when reaching for popcorn. The awareness of her beside you, warm, real, close.

“Are you actually watching this?” she murmured at one point.

“Barely.”

“Same.”

Silence again, thicker now. Charged.

You shifted, pulling the blanket over your lap. Then, after a second’s hesitation, you nudged it toward her, too. “Cold?”

She didn’t comment on the invitation, just slid closer, letting the blanket drape over both of you.

Your shoulders touched. Then stayed.

Angela’s voice dropped, softer than it had been all night. “You’re very easy to sit next to. Just so you know.”

Your heart thudded. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” A beat. “Dangerously easy.”

You turned slightly, close enough to see the way her expression had softened again, that smooth steadiness replacing her usual playful edge.

Her hand rested on the cushion between you, fingers tapping lightly, like she was deciding whether to close the distance.

“You can, you know,” you said quietly.

“Can what?”

You glanced at her arm along the back of the couch, then back to her face.

Understanding flickered instantly. A small smile tugged at her mouth, less teasing this time.

“Right,” she said. “Cool.”

Her arm slid around your shoulders, tentative for half a second before settling. You leaned into her automatically, head brushing her shoulder, her hand warm against your upper arm.

The movie kept playing, forgotten.

Angela exhaled slowly, like she’d been holding that breath all night. 

Her arm settled more securely around your shoulders, hand warm against your upper arm, thumb moving in slow, absent strokes that felt anything but absent. The movie kept playing in front of you, voices and music blurring into background noise.

You leaned further into her without thinking, your head resting more fully against her shoulder, your body angling toward hers under the blanket.

She didn’t joke. Didn’t move away. Her fingers tightened slightly where they held you, like the closeness had clicked into place for her too.

“Yeah,” she murmured, almost to herself. “This is nice.”

Nice felt like an understatement. The air felt thicker, charged, every shift of fabric and breath suddenly noticeable.

Your hand rested on the couch beside you at first, close to her leg. You could feel the heat from her through the blanket, the subtle tension in her posture, like she was hyper-aware of every point where you touched.

You hesitated.

Then you let your hand slide a little further, fingertips brushing her thigh.

Angela went still.

Not pulling away. Not startled. Just aware. Her breath hitched, quiet but unmistakable, and the arm around your shoulders tightened instinctively, grounding.

You kept your hand there, palm resting lightly now, testing, giving her space to stop you if she wanted.

She didn’t.

Instead, her fingers flexed against your arm, and she shifted just slightly toward you, a small movement that pressed your bodies closer under the blanket.

The reaction shot straight through you.

Her voice, when it came, was softer than you’d ever heard it. “You’re really not helping me stay normal tonight.”

You swallowed. “You don’t have to.”

A beat. Then another.

Your thumb traced a slow, tentative line along her thigh, feeling the way her muscles tensed under your touch. She sucked in a breath, the sound low, almost surprised, and her head tipped forward until her temple rested lightly against yours.

The playful edge was gone now. Not replaced by awkwardness, but by something warmer. Focused.

Her hand slid from your arm to your side, fingers curling lightly at your waist, like she needed somewhere to hold on.

“Okay,” she murmured, voice rougher now. “Yeah. That’s– doing something.”

You turned your head toward her, close enough that your noses nearly brushed.

“Good or bad?”

Her lips curved, small and breathless. “Very good. Bad if you wanted me to concentrate on literally anything else.”

The tension between you sharpened, no longer quiet background static. It hummed. Every point of contact felt amplified. Your hand still resting on her thigh, her fingers at your waist, your bodies angled into each other beneath the blanket.

You leaned in first.

The kiss landed deeper, less tentative than the one in the car, her mouth warm and immediate against yours. She responded instantly, hand tightening at your side as she pulled you closer, like the last bit of restraint had finally slipped.

A soft sound left her when your thumb pressed a little more firmly into her thigh, and she shifted beneath your touch, knee nudging between yours, closing the space.

The movie played on, completely forgotten.

Angela pulled back just enough to breathe, forehead resting against yours again, both of you a little unsteady now.

Angela’s need to breathe quickly faded before she kissed you again. 

Her hand slid from your waist to your back, pulling you closer as your fingers tightened against her thigh. The kiss deepened, slower but more certain, the kind that made the rest of the room fall away.

You shifted instinctively toward her, and she responded just as fast, turning slightly so she could face you fully. The blanket tangled around your legs, the bowl of snacks long forgotten somewhere near the armrest.

Her knee nudged between yours. Her hand moved up your side, warm and steady, like she was mapping the space, grounding herself in the reality of you.

You let yourself lean back a little, breath catching when she followed without hesitation.

Angela paused just long enough to search your face, eyes flicking between yours, checking. Then she moved again, one hand braced beside you on the couch as she gently guided you down onto the cushions.

It wasn’t rushed. Not overpowering. Just a smooth shift, natural, like gravity had decided this was where you both were meant to land.

Now you were lying back against the couch, Angela half over you, one leg hooked beside yours, her weight careful, supported by one arm while the other stayed at your waist.

Her hair fell forward, brushing your cheek. She smiled, a little breathless, a little stunned by herself.

“Hi,” she murmured, like she’d just realised the position you were in.

You laughed softly, hands finding her sides. “Hi.”

Then she kissed you again.

The angle changed everything. Closer. Deeper. Her body warm against yours, the press of her thigh, the subtle shift of her breathing every time you touched her.

Your hands slid up her back, and she shivered slightly at the contact, a quiet reaction she didn’t try to hide. Her fingers tightened at your waist in response, pulling you up into her just a little.

The tension between you wasn’t sharp anymore. It was heavy, warm, and building rapidly.

Angela broke the kiss just long enough to breathe, forehead resting against yours, noses brushing.

“You’re… really distracting,” she murmured.

“You’re the one on top of me.”

“Yeah,” she said, a soft grin in her voice. “I noticed.”

She didn’t move away.

Instead, she dipped back down, kissing you slower this time, savouring it, her hand sliding from your waist to your hip, thumb brushing lightly there. Every small movement sent a ripple through both of you, your reactions syncing without effort.

You felt her shift slightly above you, settling more comfortably, and the closeness made your pulse jump. She exhaled softly against your mouth, the sound warm, unguarded.

For a second, neither of you kissed. You just stayed there, breathing the same air, bodies lined up, the tension thick and unmistakable.

Angela’s gaze softened, something earnest threading through it.

“Still good?” she asked quietly.

You nodded, fingers curling gently at her side.

“Very.”

Her smile returned, smaller now, but deeper. Then she leaned in again, kissing you like she meant it.

Your hands tightened at her sides, and you pulled her closer, closing the last bit of space between you. Angela reacted instantly, a soft sound catching in her throat as her body settled fully against yours, warmth pressing through every point of contact.

The shift changed the rhythm between you. Slower breathing turned uneven. Every small movement felt amplified, charged.

A quiet exhale left her, warm against your mouth.

“Okay,” she murmured, voice rougher now, a little unsteady. “This is not how I thought the night would go...”

But she didn’t pull away.

If anything, she stayed right there, pressed close, her hand gripping lightly at your side as though grounding herself. The tension between you swelled, thick and electric, every breath shared, every shift sending heat up your spine.

You tilted your head, kissing along her jaw, slower now, feeling the way she reacted, the way her breathing hitched, the way her fingers flexed where they held you.

Her response wasn’t loud, but it was unmistakable. Soft sounds, half-breaths, the kind she didn’t seem to realise she was making.

She shifted again, settling more comfortably over you, and the closeness drew another quiet reaction from both of you. The room felt smaller, the air warmer, the movie long forgotten behind you.

Angela pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes darker now, focused, but still so unmistakably her.

“You’re dangerous,” she said softly, a faint smile threading through the tension. “I’m trying to keep it together, and you’re making that extremely difficult.”

Your thumb brushed along her side, gentle, reassuring.

“I don’t want you to try keeping it together,” you said.

“Mmm,” she breathed against your lips, her hips making a deliberate circle that pressed her core directly against yours. “Oh, you want to get closer, huh?”

“Try me,” you whispered, a thrill shooting through you.

“Okay.” Her voice was a low hum. She leaned into the kiss, her body swaying above you, the friction building with every subtle movement. A soft moan escaped her, swallowed by your mouth. Her hand slid from your side, tracing a path down your hip, then resting pointedly on the button of your jeans.

You didn’t hesitate. Your own hand found the zipper of her jeans, the unzipping breaking the quiet. She gasped, a sharp intake of breath. “Impatient, huh?”

“You started it,” you returned, your fingers slipping under the waistband, past the soft cotton of her underwear. Her entire body went rigid for a second, then melted into you.

“Oh, god,” she breathed, her hips rocking again, pressing her clit directly against your exploring fingers. “Fuck. Yes. Right there.”

You stroked her gently, testing the waters, and she bucked into your touch, a low, guttural moan vibrating through her chest. “You like that, baby?” you murmured against her neck.

“Mmm. So much. Oh, fuck.” Her breath hitched, ragged and fast. “You’re gonna make me cum already–”

“Is that a problem?”

“No–but I just–.” Suddenly, she stopped, pulling back just enough to break contact, her eyes wide, glistening with an almost frantic energy. “Wait. Hold on.”

You looked up, confused, your hand still buried in her warmth.

“Wait,” she said, her voice rough, a wicked glint in her eyes. “Not yet. Not like this.” She shifted, her weight easing off you as she sat up, quickly undoing your belt. “I wanna make you lose your mind first.”

Before you could fully process her words, she was pulling down your jeans, then your underwear, in a swift motion. The cool air hit your skin, then the warmth of her hand, guiding your legs apart. You gasped, utterly captivated as she knelt before you on the couch, her gaze focused on your wetness.

“You’re so wet already,” she hummed, her breath warm against your inner thigh. Her eyes, dark and heavy-lidded, flickered up to meet yours. “You’re so, so beautiful.”

You gasped, a sudden flush spreading through you, your hips instinctively arching. “Angela…”

“Don’t think, just feel me.” Her fingers, cool and light, traced the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, sending shivers up your spine. “You’re trembling already. I haven’t even started yet.” She leaned in, her warm breath ghosting over your most sensitive skin. 

Her tongue flicked out, a soft, teasing lick against your delicate folds, not quite on your clit, but close enough to send a jolt through your entire body. You whimpered, your fingers clenching the couch cushion. “Oh, god.”

“Mmm,” she murmured, her voice a low rumble that vibrated against your skin. “You’re so sweet.” She began a slow, deliberate circling, her tongue a velvet ribbon tracing around your aching clit, the gentle pressure building, a delicious torment. 

You couldn’t help but writhe, your hips lifting, desperate for direct contact. “Angela, please…”

She chuckled, a soft sound. “Please what, baby? Tell me what you want. Tell me what I should do.” Her breath was hot against you, a rhythmic huff as she worked. 

Your fingers tangled in her short hair, trying to pull her in as close as possible, “Please–I need you, please–”

Then, finally, she centred, her tongue pressing down, firm and steady, against your clit. A gasp tore from your throat, your back arching off the couch. “Ah! Oh, fuck–” 

“Mmm,” she murmured, her breath hot, her tongue a relentless, perfect rhythm. “You’re soaking for me, aren’t you? Just dripping.” She worked you with exquisite precision, every movement designed to push you further to the edge, then pull you back, only to push you over again.

You could feel the blood rushing, a frantic thrumming between your legs, your entire body clenching in anticipation. Your toes curled, your muscles tensed, a low moan escaping your lips with every stroke. “Oh, yes, Angela, I can’t– I can’t take this.”

“Yes, you can,” she countered, her voice firm, a hint of dominance beneath the sensuality. “You can take all of it.” She picked up the pace, her tongue a blurring sensation, the pressure building, building, a tight knot forming deep inside you.

“I’m so close. Oh, God, Angela, I’m gonna–” You arched into her, your hips lifting, desperate to meet her mouth, your vision blurring. A choked cry escaped your lips as the wave hit, washing over you in a rush of pure pleasure. “Oh, fuck–” You bucked against her, your body shuddering, your hands still tangled in her hair, holding her in place as wave after wave crashed through you.

She didn’t stop until your body had finished its tremors, until you were breathless. She finally pulled back, her lips glistening, a smear of your essence on her chin. She looked up at you, a satisfied smile on her lips.

“Mmm. You’re so good,” she purred, her voice husky, a soft laugh bubbling up from deep in her chest. “Absolutely delicious. So, so good.” She leaned forward, pressing a soft, wet kiss to your inner thigh, her gaze never leaving yours. “Worth every single drop.” 

She pushed herself up from her knees, her eyes never breaking contact with yours as she climbed back up to you, straddling your hips. Her weight settled on you, warm and familiar.

She leaned down, her hair falling around your face like a soft curtain, and kissed you. Not the hungry, desperate kisses from before, but a soft brush of her lips against yours. 

Your hands, still tingling from your climax, instinctively found their way to her hips, then slid down, tracing the curve of her ass, until your fingers brushed against the denim of her jeans, still unzipped. 

You hesitated for a moment, then, with a mischievous glint in your eye, you dipped your fingers into the opening until your fingertips brushed against the slick warmth of her wetness.

Angela’s breath hitched, a sharp, sudden intake of air. Her soft kisses stopped, replaced by a low, guttural moan that vibrated against your mouth. She pulled back just enough to look at you, her eyes wide and dark

“You wanna play, huh?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

You just nodded, your fingers finding her soft, swollen folds, gently teasing, circling the sensitive bud. “Ride me, Ange,” you murmured, your voice rough with need. “Ride my fingers. Show me how much you want it.”

A shudder ran through her entire body. “Oh, wow,” she breathed, her hips already beginning to twitch, an involuntary response to your touch. Her hands braced on your chest, her knuckles white. “You really know how to get to me, don’t you?”

“Show me,” you urged, your fingers pressing a little firmer, a gentle but insistent rhythm starting to build.

She closed her eyes, a low groan escaping her lips. “Okay. Okay, you asked for it.” Slowly at first, she began to move, a soft, deliberate grind, her clit pressing directly against your fingers. 

Her movements grew bolder, a slow, sensual rock against your hand, her hips rotating, seeking out the perfect pressure, the exact spot that sent shivers through her. “That’s it,” she whimpered, her head tilting back, exposing the elegant line of her throat. “Yes– right there. Harder”

You obliged, curling your fingers slightly, letting her feel the full pressure of your touch. She gasped, a sharp, needy sound as her hips began to pick up speed, a frantic, almost desperate rhythm. “You’re so good at this,” she panted, her breath coming in ragged bursts. “I’m gonna lose it, I swear.”

Her body was starting to tremble, a layer of sweat breaking out on her forehead. The soft moans turned into louder, more guttural sounds as she slammed her hips down, grinding against your fingers with an almost violent intensity. “Fuck–yes–, I need this. I need you.”

Her eyes were still closed, her lips parted in a silent scream. She was no longer moving with any semblance of control but driven by instinct. She continued to thump against your fingers, her entire body shaking with the effort.

“God, yes–harder!” she cried out, her voice cracking, her hips a blur of motion. She arched her back, her muscles coiling and releasing, her clit swollen and throbbing under your touch. “I’m so close– Oh, fuck, I’m gonna… I’m gonna–”

Her breath hitched, continuing to buck, her body convulsing above you, a series of sharp, violent thrusts that had her crying out. Her hips pressed down, grinding against your fingers with an almost painful intensity, as she rode the wave, her climax shattering around her, leaving her panting.

She collapsed against you, her head falling onto your shoulder, her body still trembling, damp with sweat. “Oh, my god,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “You… How do you do that so well?”

Angela stayed draped over you, both of you breathing hard, her heartbeat still racing where her chest pressed against yours. The room felt hushed, the kind of quiet that comes after a storm finally rolls past.

You smoothed a hand up her back, slow and grounding, letting your touch say what words couldn’t quite reach yet.

“I’ve got you,” you murmured.

She let out a shaky laugh into your shoulder, half-buried against you. “Good. Because I think my soul left my body for a second.”

You huffed softly, fingers still tracing gentle patterns along her spine. Her body gradually softened, the tension melting out of her muscles as her breathing evened.

For a minute, neither of you moved. Just warmth. Skin, breath, the blanket tangled around your legs, the movie still flickering quietly in the background like it belonged somewhere else.

Then Angela shifted slightly, propping herself up just enough to look at you. Her hair was a mess, cheeks flushed, eyes softer than you’d ever seen them.

“Hey,” she said, voice rough but fond. “You still with me?”

“Yeah,” you said, smiling. “You?”

“Very much. Just… recalibrating.”

She leaned down, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your lips, nothing urgent this time. Just closeness.

Your hands slid to her waist, then lower, gentle, giving her space, checking in with every movement. When you began easing her jeans down the rest of the way, she lifted her hips automatically to help, no hesitation, no tension. The moment felt unhurried, practical in that quiet, intimate way that comes after everything else.

Once they were off, you tugged the blanket higher over both of you, tucking it around her hips, around your legs, sealing the warmth in.

Angela exhaled, sinking down beside you instead of over you this time, turning onto her side so she could face you properly. One arm slipped around your middle, pulling you in until you were chest to chest, knees brushing under the blanket.

“This is my favourite part,” she murmured.

You smiled, brushing a stray piece of hair from her forehead. “Cuddling?”

“Yeah. Don’t tell anyone. I have a reputation.”

You laughed quietly. “Your secret’s safe.”

She hummed, satisfied, then tucked her head under your chin, fitting there like she’d done it a hundred times before. Her thumb traced slow, lazy circles against your side, grounding both of you.

The energy between you had shifted completely. No more urgency. Just warmth, softness, the quiet glow that lingers after everything settles.

After a moment, she spoke again, voice softer.

“You good?”

“Yeah. Really good.”

She nodded against you. “Same. Just wanted to check.”

You squeezed her gently, and she squeezed back, a silent exchange that said more than either of you could put into words.

The movie kept playing, unnoticed. Outside, the night pressed against the windows. Inside, you stayed tangled together under the blanket, her breathing steady against your chest, her hand still resting warm at your side, both of you drifting in that calm, glowing quiet that felt like the safest place in the world.

---------------------------------------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That could be true.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Theo raises a brow. “Yes?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just hypothetically?” Theo asks you slowly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

𓆩⟡𓆪

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Seob,” you say through a hitched breath. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kiss me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your brows furrow. “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did it feel good?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I now?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Spit it out.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hums. “Expected. Play with them.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Jiung,” you say, voice breathy already. 

He doesn’t move his eyes. “Hm?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So you really do have the power here.

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

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

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

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

“Two.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That won’t be necessary.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jiung doesn’t answer verbally, only nods. 

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

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

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

“Taeyang, I swear—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fine by me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jiung, hold her legs open.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Theo just glares back at him in silence.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Should I?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” You snap.

He raises a brow at you. “Well?” 

“Well what?”

“Did we prove you wrong or what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What is wrong with you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Next time.”

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You’d loved her for years.

And everyone knew but her. 

You frowned at the smiley face sticker you had just added to the outside of the bag for added joy. Was this too obvious? Would she find out? Did you want her to find out?

Your heart screamed yes. Your brain told it to shut the fuck up. Your hand found a pen and started to write a note to put in her lunch like an elementary schooler’s mom. 

You wrote “Have a great day!” Simple. Easy. Nondescript. No one would know it was you. You packed it up and stuck it in the fridge. Tomorrow, you would make sure she ate. 

—------

Chanse opened the communal fridge at lunchtime and his jaw dropped. “Bitch you remembered to bring lunch today? Good for you! You’re improving!”

“What? No. I just have this.” Angela pulled a smushed granola bar out of her pocket. “I barely remembered to bring it.”

Chanse pulled the bag out of the fridge and shoved it in her face. “Then what’s this?”

Angela studied it with a furrowed brow before opening it. An orange, a chicken caesar salad and a chocolate chip cookie stared back. They all looked normal. “Do you think someone is planning on poisoning me?”

“We have too many cameras for them to do that here, literally they’re making Tiktoks with us in the background as we speak.”

“And you’re sure you had nothing to do with this? It’s not a prank?”

“I never said that.” He took the granola bar out of Angela’s hand and bit into it, grimacing. “Wow, this is bad.”

“So do you think it’s a prank?”

“Beats me. If it is, I’ll laugh but unfortunately, I won’t be able to take credit for this one.” 

Angela skeptically took the lunch to one of the tables and started to eat it. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until she started to eat. Maybe that’s why she’d been having headaches lately.

“How is it?”

She took a moment to swallow before answering. “It’s really good actually. Whoever did this even put the dressing on the side so the croutons wouldn’t get soggy. And look! They wrote me a little note. That’s so cute!” 

Chanse studied the yellow Post-It note. The handwriting was familiar, but he couldn’t place where he’d seen it before. The way they crossed their T was distinct, and only a few people he knew curled their Y like that. The G in Angela had the same curl. Where had he seen it before?

Meanwhile, you were watching the two of them out of your peripheral while at your desk. Did she like it? Would she be in a better mood later? Oh no, what if she was allergic to something? You’d have to ask Amanda later just in case, she would know. 

Tommy appeared, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Staring at your girl again?”

You spluttered, protesting. “She’s not my girl- shut up please before someone hears you.”

“Everyone knows, you’re the exact opposite of subtle. Which is why I know that that mysterious lunch she’s eating was absolutely made by you.”

“You can’t tell her.”

“Dude, it’s just lunch, what’s there to worry about? She’d probably be thrilled to know it’s from you.”

“Would she?”

“You’ve been friends for a long time, of course she would.”

“But what if she thinks I’m weird?”

“And a mysterious lunch isn’t weird?” He raised an eyebrow. 

“She’ll ask why I’m doing it, and that means I have to tell her how much I care about her, and I don’t know if I can do that without bursting into tears or kissing her.”

“She’d probably prefer the latter.”

“No she wouldn’t! I’ve told you a million times she doesn’t see me that way.”

“You’re delusional.”

“No you.” You pouted, crossing your arms defensively over your chest. 

Tommy gave you the look. The one that told you he thought you were being stupid but knew he couldn’t do anything about it. “So what, you’re just going to keep secretly making her lunch until the day you die?”

“Yes.”

He let out a dramatic sigh, flopping against the side of your desk and nearly knocking over your coffee. “Hopeless, hopeless queer-identifying ladies, whatever will we do with the two of you.”

“You could start by not getting your jacket in my drink.” He pulled his arm away, and sure enough, there was a wet spot on it. 

“A necessary casualty.” You caught Angela’s eye over his shoulder and she waved energetically at you, a bright smile lighting up her face. You waved back, but not before turning the color of an overripe tomato. You zoned out, thinking about her dimples, only to be shaken back to reality by Tommy jingling his keys in front of your face. “As I said, totally hopeless.” 

—------

As much as you hated to admit it, Tommy was right. You weren’t subtle in the slightest, which meant it was only a matter of time before you got caught. 

And Chanse was the one who caught you, which meant this was about to be a whole mess. He caught you literally red handed, placing a Coke next to the brown paper bag that had become your signature over the past few weeks. 

“I knew it. I knew it!” 

“Be quiet! She’ll hear you!”

“Oh she needs to hear this. She’ll absolutely adore this.” 

“How much money do you want? $10? $20?”

“You’re willing to pay me off?” Chanse circled you like a shark. “Not gonna happen, this is priceless.”

“Chanse. This isn’t funny.”

“What’s not funny?” Both of your eyes snapped to Angela, holding a tray of coffees for the three of you. “If it’s me I’d like to have some caffeine first please.”

“She’s been mak-” You lunged forward, trying to cover Chanse’s mouth. You grappled with him for a moment before he slipped out of your grasp, leaving you panting against the kitchen island. “She’s the lunch culprit! I figured it out!” He announced loudly. 

“Goddamnit Chanse.” You muttered as you watched her jaw go slack. You couldn’t read her face as she pulled the bag back out of the fridge, eyebrows furrowed. 

“It’s been you this whole time?”

You looked down at the dirty toes of your sneakers, ears burning and stomach in knots. “Yeah, it has.”

“Why?” When you peeked up at her, she looked genuinely confused, like she couldn’t imagine someone would ever want to do this for her. 

“Because I noticed you not eating, and how it makes you grumpy at the end of long shoot days and how it makes you quieter during the days we aren’t shooting and how you always seem happier after having a full meal. And your light is so beautiful and bright and I feel sad seeing you sad.” 

“Oh.”

Your fidgeting hands stilled. That wasn’t the reaction you’d been hoping for. You knew she wouldn’t return your feelings but you had at least thought that maybe she’d laugh it off or something. Something lighter.

“Yeah.” You hesitated, waiting for her to say something, but she didn’t. “I’ve gotta get to work but I hope you like it.” You walked away before she could respond, feeling worse than you had before you had decided to put your heart and soul into food weeks ago. 

The next day, you found a lunch box with a small embroidered A on it in the fridge. You went home from the office sick and left the crumpled paper bag with your confession inside in the trash. 

—--------

People called Angela oblivious, but she noticed more than people gave her credit for. Well, at least about you. She hadn’t known what to do with the lunch now that she knew you made it. You worked the longest nights out of anyone without taking any credit, and she felt so guilty for making you make something for her every single day on top of it. I mean, they were delicious, but not if it came at your expense. 

She went to Target and bought a lunchbox the very same day, resolving to pack her own so that way you could get a break. It was better that way, she thought, easier for the both of you. 

At least, that’s what she’d thought before she was poking at the saddest lettuce she’d ever seen in her life, dreading eating it. 

“I knew this would happen.” Chanse stood over her, hands behind his back. 

“I don’t know how she does it, this is just-”

“Pitiful.” Chanse cut her off. “Absolutely. And that is why I rescued this for you.” He pulled the brown paper bag out from behind him and set it on the table. “She looked pretty distraught when she saw you brought your own and tossed this, but I knew yours would be sad. No offense.”

Angela frowned. “She was upset? I thought she’d be happy for me to take something off her plate.”

Chanse put his face in his hands. “Just eat your lunch, I have to go shoot a Games video.” It came out muffled and weary, the kind of weary that came from two people refusing to see the obvious for so long it hurt. 

Angela didn’t even notice him leave, focused on the strawberries you’d left for her. They were cut into hearts. She felt warmth swell in her chest. So cute. When she reached into the bag next, instead of pulling out food, she pulled out a small piece of paper, folded into a careful square. She was glad you’d left a note again, she thought they were adorable. Every single one had been carefully stowed away in her desk drawer. 

She unfolded the paper, prepared to see a simple message, one that would brighten her day no matter how small. But instead, she came face to face with what could only be described as a full on letter. 

She pushed the strawberries to the side and began to read. 

“Dear Ange, 

I really don’t know how to say this. So I guess I’ll start at the beginning. In the beginning, there was nothing, and then there was something. Probably metal or something. I’m no scientist, and I’m not good with my feelings either, so it sure is a good thing I decided to become an editor. When they hired me here, I was scared. So scared. I mean are you kidding me this is Smosh, like actual Smosh. Like 2004 Ian and Anthony from Smosh. And they hired me. Wild. Anyway, the point is that I nearly crumbled from the pressure and the workload and everything. And even when I was a newbie and a mess, you were kind and funny and put me at ease. You were a good friend. And I know that’s what we are now, good friends. 

Chanse and Tommy told me to write this. They ganged up on me and told me it couldn’t go wrong. I’m pretty doubtful of that, but they held me at metaphorical gay gunpoint and said “write down your feelings or we’ll ruin your life” and “we’ll support you you weirdo”. But that’s beside the point. I’m just rambling now because I’m scared. 

I’m scared to ruin us, because I love you. I made you lunches because I love you and it killed me inside to watch you be miserable. I’m writing this because I love you so much. I love you more than the sun loves the moon and the same amount that Shayne and Court love each other because they’re the blueprint and I can’t imagine two people loving each other more. 

Even if you don’t feel the same, I still thought you should know. Hopefully the lunches were good at the very least. I tried to learn how to make your favorites.” 

It was signed with a heart and a smudge that looked suspiciously like a tear stain. Angela couldn’t tell if it was from you or from her. Looking inside the bag again, the rest of the lunch was indeed her favorite, containers stacked in a meticulous way that came from the utmost care. Her heart caught in her throat. It really had been you this whole time. Not just the lunches, but in every quiet way that mattered more than screaming it to the world, and she had barely even grasped how much she loved you too. Fuck. 

She grabbed her phone and called you without a second thought. When you picked up, it sounded like you had been crying. 

“Hey Ange.”

“Hey. I got your note.”

You sniffled. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I love you too, you silly goose. And you got my favorite lunch right.”

You let out a relieved sigh, voice still shaky from crying. “Thank god, I took forever interrogating Amanda for that. What do you want for lunch tomorrow?”

“Nothing.”

“What?”

“I want to take you on a date instead. Wherever you want.”

She heard your breath hitch. “Really?”

“Really.”

"morning, ange." two words that you produced at barely above a whisper, but based on the way she whines while lightly stretching then adjusts herself so that she's as close to you as possible, since she can't get under your skin, more than enough to wake angela up. you chuckle at that. "come on, we have a lot to get done today."

once again you feel her arms and legs tighten around you in a silent attempt to keep you stuck to her and therefore stuck in bed. and you can't blame her. you don't want to get up, either; if you could, you would put every clock in the world on hold just so the two of you could stay next to each other all day without the worries of life and responsibilities looming in the background. but, unfortunately, like you told angela, you have a lot to do, and just as unfortunately you've yet to gain the ability to manipulate every clock on earth. so today will have to be faced like any other.

"if you let me up i can go get a pot of coffee started."

and that seems to be the key.

only a few silent seconds follow before angela loosens her grip on you and lets her once-constricting limbs lay spread out on the mattress. you look over before making any effort to get up, immediately noting the minor look of defeat that paints her face. you try not to make it obvious that the sight causes you to chuckle. so, instead, you lean over and plant your lips on her cheek. she seems to appreciate the way you let the kiss linger.

sooner than either of you would like you pull back but remain less than an inch from her skin; you couldn't bare to go any farther.

"you know i would stay right here, all day long if i could. but, much to our dismay, we're adults, and adults have bills to pay and deadlines to meet."

"i know," she all but sighs. "it just sucks that we haven't invented a way to make passive income based on beauty, because being with you i'd be set for life."

you feel yourself blush at the cheesy yet absurdly romantic compliment. in response, you move closer again but this time allow your and her lips to connect. again it lingers.

when it does ultimately break, neither of you able to recall exactly how long it lasted, you find angela smiling - in the most endearing way possible - like an idiot up at you. you don't try to hide your laugh this time.

"loser," you get out between your own smile while finally peeling yourself off the blankets and standing.

"your idiot," angela corrects.

you make a face towards her, scrunches eyebrows and lips playfully wrinkled. then turn towards the kitchen to start o. the coffee you promised her. but mostly promised yourself. yoy take a deep breath while stood at the pot, new pod already inserted because the idea of grinding beans and pulling shots of espresso by hand is enough to make you want to crawl back into bed by itself. forget actually doing it.

the smell finally rises high enough for you to catch, and you suspect that this is going to be the best feeling of the morning. that is until you feel a pair of arms wrap around your torso and connect at the front, their head finding a perfect spot on your upper back almost to the point of being able to rest in the space between your shoulder and neck. you lean your own head back slightly to find them and smile when you do. just like in bed they adjust to get closer to you. and despite the fact that it seems physically impossible to do so you're pretty sure they succeed.

"comfortable?"

you get your answer by way of a deep breath that involuntarily results in a quick squeak from her vocal chords. you don't think you know enough words to describe how that makes you feel. but if, for some reason, you were asked to, the best thing you manage to land on is 'calm'. and even though you've already told angela about how busy the both of you are going to be today, told yourself, you don't feel the need to rush. you feel perfectly content in the idea of making two cups of coffee then sitting on the couch for as long you need to finish said cups.

and almost like it can read your thoughts the coffee maker loudly spits out of the last couple of ounces into angela's mug thst you remove from under the spout before replacing it with yours, effortlessly throwing the old pod away with one hand while, at the same time, inserting a new one with the other. both of them go back to angela's without thinking about it.

"do we have to go out today," she whines in that voice that she does when she's trying extra hard to get what she wants. normally, it works on you, but today there's just too much to do for you to give in. so instead you loosen her grip on you to allow for you to turn around and face her. "hi," she greets with that same face from earlier.

"hi," you echo. "and to answer your question, yes, we do. but it shouldn't take us too long and then we can get lunch at that new palestinian place you've been wanting to try. how does that sound?"

angela seems to think on it for a moment before breathing in through her nose, eyes still fixed on you. "okay. but only because you offered to pay."

you feel your mouth fall open with a hint of a smile. "i didn't-… y'know what, fine. because i love you so much, i will pay. but you're getting my coffee on the way to work tomorrow."

angela nods with the side of her face pressed into your chest. and before long your pod is empty. angela detaches herself from you to carry her mug while you follow behind with your own. you both situate yourselves on the couch, side-bu-side and multiple limbs touching.

it's prefect.

she's perfect.