SITRI

LEE LEEKNOW MINHO

Minho is a teasing sadist even when he’s losing control. He has you on all fours, one hand fisted in your hair as he fucks you hard from behind. Every deep thrust makes him groan, and instead of letting the sounds out freely, he leans down and sinks his teeth into your shoulder blade.

The bite is sharp and deliberate, meant to muffle his pretty moans. “Quiet… or I’ll bite harder,” he whispers, voice sweet but threatening, right before his teeth dig in again. He loves the way you whimper when he bites, the way your pussy clenches around him. He alternates between soft, teasing nips and hard, possessive bites that leave clear teeth marks.

He’ll bite the back of your neck, your shoulder, even the curve of your waist if he can reach it. Each bite is accompanied by a low, muffled groan that vibrates against your skin. When he’s close, his rhythm becomes punishing and his bites turn almost feral. He cums with his teeth sunk deep into your shoulder, groaning loudly into your skin as he fills you. Afterwards, he licks the bite marks almost apologetically while calling you his pretty kitten.

SEO CHANGBIN

Changbin is loud, intense, and completely unable to stay quiet when he’s lost in you. He has you bent over the edge of the bed in a deep doggy-style position, his powerful body completely covering yours from behind. His thick, muscular thighs slap against the back of yours with every brutal thrust, the sound wet and obscene in the room.

Every time his fat cock slams deep into you, hitting that perfect spot that makes your toes curl, a deep, guttural groan builds in his chest. He tries to hold it back, but he can’t. Instead, he leans forward, pressing his broad, sweaty chest against your back, and sinks his teeth hard into your shoulder. The bite is strong and possessive, his jaw clenching as he muffles a loud, animalistic moan against your skin.

“Fuck— baby, you’re so tight,” he growls, voice deep and rough, the words vibrating through his teeth into your flesh. His massive hands grip your snatchable waist tightly, fingers digging deep into your soft skin as he uses your body like a handle to pull you back onto his thick cock. The contrast is overwhelming. His huge, muscular frame against your smaller one, his teeth sunk into your shoulder while he pounds you mercilessly.

The position lets him hit even deeper, and his muffled moans become louder, more broken. He growls into your skin, teeth clenched tight as his hips stutter. He cums with a loud, deep, muffled roar, sinking his teeth hard into your shoulder as thick ropes of cum flood deep inside you. His whole body shakes against yours, muscles flexing as he holds you in place, refusing to let go until he’s completely emptied himself.

HWANG HYUNJIN

Hyunjin turns even something as raw as biting into something almost poetic. He has you riding him slowly, his back against the headboard, hands gripping your hips as you sink down onto his cock. His head falls back at first, long hair messy, lips parted in pleasure. But as the intensity builds and his thrusts become deeper, needy moans start slipping out.

He suddenly leans forward, burying his face in the curve of your neck and shoulder. His teeth graze your skin teasingly at first, then sink in with a low, breathy groan that vibrates against you. “You feel too good… I can’t stay quiet,” he whispers hotly before biting harder, teeth pressing into your soft flesh as he snaps his hips up sharply.

The bite is firm but graceful enough to leave a clear imprint, but never truly painful. He loves the way your body jolts when he bites, the way your pussy clenches around him in response. His long fingers dig into your waist as he uses your body to bounce you harder on his cock. Every deep thrust is paired with a new bite. On your collarbone, the top of your breast, the sensitive spot where your neck meets your shoulder.

Then he'd moans against your skin, teeth grazing before sinking in again. His voice is breathy and beautiful, even when muffled. As he gets closer, his bites become more desperate, almost frantic. He holds you down on his cock with one hand on your waist while his mouth stays latched onto your shoulder, moaning loudly into your skin as he cums deep inside you. Afterward, he gently kisses and licks every bite mark, admiring how pretty they look on your skin while whispering how perfect you are.

HAN JISUNG

Jisung is loud, desperate, and completely unable to stay quiet when he’s inside you. He has you in missionary, legs wrapped around his waist as he fucks you hard and fast. His face is buried in your neck, hot breath fanning against your skin with every thrust.

Every time his cock hits that perfect spot deep inside you, a loud, broken moan tries to escape him. He solves it by sinking his teeth into your shoulder, muffling the sound against your skin. “Fuck— baby, you feel so good I can’t—,” he whimpers before biting down harder, teeth digging in as his hips snap forward desperately.

His bites are messy and needy, lots of small, overlapping marks all over your shoulders, neck, and collarbone. He can’t control himself. The harder he pounds into you, the harder he bites, using your body to muffle his loud, whiny moans. “I’m sorry— you’re too tight,” he whines pathetically against your skin, teeth still latched on.

When he gets close, his thrusts turn frantic and sloppy. He buries his face completely in your neck and bites down hard on your shoulder as he cums, moaning loudly into your flesh while filling you up. His whole body shakes against you. Even after he finishes, he keeps his teeth gently pressed against your skin for a few seconds, breathing heavily, before he starts kissing and licking the marks apologetically.

LEE FELIX YONGBOK

Felix’s deep voice makes his muffled moans incredibly sexy. He has you in missionary, body pressed close to yours as he fucks you with slow, deep rolls of his hips. His face is buried in the crook of your neck, lips brushing your skin.

Every time he bottoms out, a low, rumbling groan builds in his chest. He muffles it by sinking his teeth into your shoulder, the vibration of his deep voice traveling straight through the bite. “You feel so fucking good, angel,” he groans against your skin before biting harder, teeth pressing firmly into your flesh as he grinds deep.

His bites are sensual and possessive. He loves leaving a trail of marks across your shoulders and chest. The combination of his deep voice, his teeth on your skin, and his thick cock stretching you open is overwhelming. He’ll switch between soft, teasing nips and harder bites that make you gasp. “Can’t stay quiet when you’re this tight around me,” he moans, voice beautifully low even when muffled.

When he’s close, his thrusts become deeper and more intense. He holds you tightly and bites down on your neck as he cums, groaning deeply into your skin while filling you up. The feeling of his teeth and his low, vibrating moans pushes you over the edge with him. Afterward, he gently kisses every bite mark, his deep voice soft and loving as he tells you how perfect you felt.

KIM SEUNGMIN

Seungmin tries to stay composed, but you feel too good for him to stay quiet. He has you pinned beneath him, fucking you with sharp, precise thrusts. His face is in your neck, and every time a moan threatens to slip out, he bites down on your shoulder.

The bite is firm and teasing. “Can’t even stay quiet for me?” he mocks softly against your skin before sinking his teeth in again. His bites are tender, never too painful, but hard enough to leave clear marks and make you whimper. He loves the way you clench around him when he bites. “Pathetic… getting wetter every time I bite you.”

He keeps one hand in your hair, pulling your head to the side so he has better access to your neck and shoulder. His thrusts are relentless, each one paired with a new bite. When he’s close, he bites down harder, muffling his rare but beautiful moans as he cums deep inside you. And even that bite couldn't hide how desperate his moans are spilling ending up with his whole body rigid. Afterwards, when you tried to open it up with he'll act as if that thing never happened.

YANG JEONGIN

Jeongin gets surprisingly possessive and eager when pleasure overwhelms him. He has you in doggy style or spooning, body pressed close as he fucks you hard. His face is buried in the back of your neck or shoulder, breathing heavily.

Every deep thrust makes him moan, so he solves it by biting down on your shoulder. “Noona… you feel too good,” he groans before sinking his teeth in, trying to muffle the sound. His bites start a little shy but quickly become more confident and possessive. He loves leaving marks on you, clear evidence that he was there.

As he gets more lost in pleasure, his bites become harder and more frequent. He grips your waist tightly with one hand while biting your shoulder, using your body to pull you back onto his cock. “I can’t stop… you’re too tight,” he whimpers against your skin, teeth still latched on. When he cums, he bites down firmly on your shoulder, groaning into your flesh as he fills you up, making up pull his head up just so he could gasp the pleasure out. Afterward, he becomes very soft and clingy, kissing the bite marks gently while asking if he was too rough.

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But there was a melancholy pulse underneath, at least for him. He kept being struck over and over by imagery from that night, your head tipped back in bliss, your moans shuddering through him, you on your knees, the wet heat of your mouth turning him inside out. He got off to it once a few days later, picturing you spread out underneath him, dropping expletives and moaning his name. He spilled over his hand and stomach with your name on his lips and was immediately dipped in guilt. You’d asked him for a favor, and he was using it to create a version of you that didn’t exist, one that was as in love with him as he was with you. A version that couldn’t possibly live up to the real thing, which he’d had, and should appreciate. After that, whenever the urge to touch himself to the memory surfaced, he pictured that night under glass where he couldn’t touch it or ruin it with any alterations. It was his to keep, his to remember, but not his to use.

And when he saw you in person, he just had to bite the inside of his cheek so hard he tasted blood to keep the memory from surfacing. You had gone right back to normal, so he would too, even if it took all his willpower to make it happen. He smiled and laughed and tried to joke as usual. If you noticed any difference, you didn’t comment on it, and he was grateful even if it made him taste bile.

The bitter edge of it had begun to ebb by the time he ended up on your couch again a couple of weeks later. He could almost look at you without picturing the scene again, which he took as an improvement. You moved around him as normal, cleaning up the takeout trays as the credits to the movie you had watched together rolled up your television screen.

“Oh,” you said suddenly, snapping him to attention. Your voice carried from the kitchen to meet him in the living room. “Do you remember that guy at work I told you about? My deskmate?”

“The one who likes to leer at you?” he asked.

“That one,” you said, emerging and dropping back onto the couch. “The one who got engaged last month.”

“Good luck to her,” Hyunjin said wryly, taking a sip of his beer.

“Well, no, she must have wised up, because apparently she dumped him. And then when he was telling me about it, in the middle of the office, he was like, ‘Guess we’re both single now.’” You stuck your tongue out and pretended to retch, and then collapsed back over the arm of the couch. “Wiggled his eyebrows like I hadn’t already gotten the hint.”

“Ew, he came on to you?” Hyunjin scrunched his face. “Sounds like he was real broken up about his failed engagement.”

“More like he saw it as an opportunity to play the sympathy card and try to get in my pants,” you said, sipping from your own drink. “He must think I’m real desperate to get some if that’s the quality of bait he’s casting.”

“Good thing you can look out for yourself, then,” Hyunjin said without thinking.

You choked on your drink, spraying droplets of it over the couch, and Hyunjin immediately realized what he’d implied. “Not that—I mean—I meant you weren’t gonna fall for—I mean, that too, but—do you need some water?”

You kept coughing until you pounded on your chest and dislodged some liquid from your windpipe, at which point you were finally able to breathe somewhat normally again. You looked up at him, his face stricken and apologetic, and grimaced.

“I meant that it’s good that you could see through his bullshit,” Hyunjin said quietly. “That’s all.”

“Yeah,” you said, “that is good, because I still can’t get off by myself.”

Hyunjin gaped at you for a second before realizing how slack his jaw was and snapping it shut. “Oh?” he said, his voice coming out higher than he meant it to.

“Told you it wasn’t like jumping a car,” you said morosely, taking another sip.

His mind whirled. So his attempt at doing you a favor hadn’t even had the intended result. Did that mean you were disappointed in his performance? It had been something closer to a hunch or wish than an evidence-based approach, to be fair. He cast his gaze over you, your eyes downcast to stare into your cup, your body curling in on itself. A pang went through him, to see you so clearly frustrated.

He almost made you another offer, right then. He would take an eon of agonizing to himself if it meant giving you back something that had been taken from you that you missed. But he stopped, the words on the tip of his tongue, and bit it back. He knew he’d done too much out of something that now felt more like an ulterior motive, even if it had felt selfless at the time.

“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful,” you said suddenly, reaching out to put your hand on his arm. He stiffened, and then realized that you might have misread the emotions that were surely playing across his face. “I’m just frustrated. Not at you. God, of course not at you. You were great. Really great.”

“Glad I could—well, not help, I guess. Perform? Perform. I guess.”

You didn’t seem to even notice his babbling. “Oh, it helped. A lot. It was—this is probably sappy, but it made me feel a lot less broken, even if it was temporary.”

He nodded. Temporary. But also a lot less broken. He was offended that the universe had ever supplied you with circumstances that made you feel broken at all, but the idea that he’d been able to help ameliorate that, even a little, warmed him.

You squeezed his arm and sat back, swirling the liquid left in your cup and staring into it like it could show you your fortune. Hyunjin ran a shaky hand through his hair and put his beer on the coffee table, so you wouldn’t hear it rattle as he held it.

Just as he was combing through his brain for a safe subject change, you said, “It was kind of fun, right?”

Kind of fun. He turned the phrase over and over in his mind. He would have to do some sort of forbidden alchemy to ever transmogrify the earth-shattering experience he’d had into something that he could only describe as kind of fun. But without a good response, he ended up just nodding.

“And like you said, friends hook up sometimes.”

Hyunjin could suddenly see the shape of the conversation, about to crash over him like a wave.

“And I’m not, like, desperate or anything. But I was thinking that maybe, if you wanted, we could try again? And maybe I’d actually get jump-started this time,” you added with a wry smile. “But only if you wanted. It’d be a big favor, and I don’t want you to do it if you don’t want to.”

He’d been braced to say no, because of how brittle his heart felt in his chest, but the way you’d phrased it, as a big favor, did him in. He couldn’t find it in him to say no to you, not when you were glancing at him hopefully and chewing on your lip and folded into yourself like you were embarrassed to even be asking. He was suddenly outraged that you felt like you even had to ask. Didn’t you know that he would fall at your feet? Couldn’t you tell?

He managed to filter all of that until what came out was, “I mean, sure. If you want.”

“No, no, no, don’t say yes just because I’m asking,” you said, folding your arms over your chest. “Like I said last time, I’m not a charity case.”

“Of course not,” he said quickly. “I just...” He needed to dance delicately between saying too much and not enough. “I enjoyed it too.”

You exhaled, a look of relief on your face. “Okay, good. That’s good.”

“And I would be fine with—sorry, more than happy to do it again.” Hyunjin studied your face for confirmation that he’d struck the correct balance, and he was rewarded with your radiant smile.

You scooted closer to him on the couch, smiling but tentative. He huffed a laugh at the look on your face, like you didn’t know where to start.

“Shut up,” you said, but there was no heat in it. “It’s awkward still.”

The smile on his face died.

“Not because of you!” you said hurriedly, reaching out to touch his arm. “Just, inherently. Hooking up is awkward. Even when it’s”—you motioned between the two of you—“you know, platonic.”

“Right,” he said, everything whirling inside of him.

“It’s honestly better,” you said, giving him a grin. “Right? Like, we don’t have to impress each other. It’s just for fun.”

He nodded. “Yeah. We already know each other.”

“And the chances that one of us is going to run away screaming are—”

“Unthinkable,” he finished, vehemently.

You grinned widely. “I was going to say very low, but I like yours better.”

He felt a dopey smile spread across his face.

You cleared your throat and looked up at him. “Sorry, I just don’t know how to start. You... you did a good job starting last time.”

The compliment hit him square in the chest and blossomed. He dropped his gaze to your lips, rested there to give you a chance to tell what he was doing, and then met your eyes when he asked quietly, “Can I kiss you?”

You nodded.

Despite everything that had happened last time, your lips had never touched, and the breathless anticipation that rushed through him set his heart racing. Gently, he covered your hand on his arm with his own, and then slid it up your arm to cup your face. No pauses, no meaningful glances, nothing that would betray his innermost thoughts, just what you wanted. He leaned in and captured your mouth with his.

With his eyes closed, Hyunjin could almost pretend he was dreaming. The first few careful presses gave way to something more heated almost immediately, and even though he yearned to take his time and carefully learn every one of your reactions, he let you press closer as soon as you wanted to. His lips opened when your tongue swiped against them, and he let himself start to drown in your taste. Your hands came up against his chest, clutching fistfuls of his shirt, and eventually he pulled you into his lap, settling you in a straddle, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, anchoring you to him. He wanted to sink into your skin, but settled for kissing you like his life depended on it.

Your lips trailed down his cheek and jaw to kiss down the column of his neck. He deliriously hoped that you’d leave marks in the exact shape of your lips, so that when he tried to figure out if it was all an elaborate dream, he’d have the proof right there on his body. When you reached down to fumble with the hem of his shirt, he helped you peel it off of him, and you latched back onto his neck.

He groaned a curse into your ear, and he felt you shiver against him.

“You like that?” he murmured as you panted, pausing momentarily at his collarbone.

“Yeah,” you breathed, your breath fanning hot against his skin. “Like it when you... make those noises. When you talk dirty.”

You trailed downward and licked his nipple, causing his hips to jolt up into you, nearly bucking you off him. He wrapped his hands around your waist tighter. “So fucking good with your mouth,” he said as you swirled your tongue around the nipple and sucked at it, making his body flood with heat. “Gonna get you on your knees again, keep your mouth full, watch those pretty lips suck me off. Or I’ll eat you out while your mouth is full of me, yeah? Would you like that?”

You just moaned against his skin, and he suddenly needed to feel your skin on his. Hyunjin reached out for your shirt, and you helped him rip it off, discarding it somewhere on the floor, immediately forgotten. He palmed both your breasts at once, rolling your nipples, already peaked, through the lace of your bra, and you threw your head back, face awash with pleasure. You ground your hips down onto him, and he moaned, already painfully hard. There were too many layers between you, but the idea of separating from you long enough to shed them made him want to cry. He just matched your movements, rolling up into you, watching as every moan he let out made your eyes flutter and every press of his bulge made your breath hitch.

You pressed close to him, kissing him messily, open-mouthed, still panting, and then, right against his lips, you said, “Hyun, I want you to fuck me.”

Hyunjin stilled. He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes. “You want that?”

You nodded.

Before he could think any better of it, he stood in one motion, lifting you under your thighs, kissing you hard as he carried you to the bedroom so he wouldn’t say any of the thoughts that were swirling inside of him, could filter them before they made their way out to you. You wrapped your legs around his waist and hooked your ankles behind his back, like you were trying to put down roots inside him. Like you hadn’t already, without knowing.

He laid you on the bed. A voice in the back of his head was screaming at him that there was no coming back from this, that this was a surefire way to break his own heart, but it was muffled under the desire coursing through him. He stared at something he hadn’t allowed himself to want until now, and you stared back, waiting for him.

He couldn’t allow himself to think, or he’d think his way out of it. He went for your waistband, divesting you of your pants and underwear in one motion, and rolled atop you, immediately stroking your cheekbone with one hand and kissing you, hard, while his other hand reached between your legs. He found you soaking and huffed against your skin. “So wet and ready for me, but let’s make sure first, okay?” He pinched your clit between his fingers, making you moan into his mouth.

He worked you up, up, cataloging every jolt of your body, every little motion that made you squirm. You came on his fingers, biting down on his bottom lip, making his eyes roll back in his head.

As you recovered, he discarded his pants and boxers, stroking himself a few times to the lovely sight of you spread out for him, open, ready. Your eyes fluttered open and watched him, hooded and hazy. “Condoms are in the nightstand,” you said, not taking your eyes off him.

He pulled one out and rolled it on, then positioned himself between your legs. He had locked all his logic away somewhere he couldn’t reach; the only judgment he allowed himself was the filter that would keep him from confessing something embarrassing. Every other inhibition was somewhere unreachable.

“Tell me you want it,” he said, breath short.

“Please, Hyun,” you said in a whine. “Please, God, I need your cock, I’m so empty, fuck me, please.”

He committed the sound of your pleading to memory and buried himself inside you.

You choked on a gasp as he thrust all the way in, barely giving you a second to adjust until he was all the way against you, forehead dropping to meet yours, sweat beading at his hairline. “Fuck, baby,” he groaned, completely still. If he moved a millimeter more, he was going to come. “So tight... your pussy is so tight, my god... it’s perfect, feels perfect, Jesus Christ, gonna live in here, fuck.”

You rolled your hips against him and clenched deliberately around him. “Ha—don’t—just give me a second—” he babbled, his hand anchored in your hair.

“Need to feel you,” you whispered to him.

“You don’t—ha—feel me yet?” he said, and then thrust hard, punching the air out of your lungs. “How about now?”

You could only cry out weakly, clutching at his shoulders.

He gentled his pace just slightly, but when you gathered yourself to join his motions, you moved against him faster, and he matched you, punching sweet little sounds out of your throat. He dipped his head to kiss you again, swallowing a moan from between your lips. His whole body buzzed in disbelief that this was happening, that you were letting him do this, that you wanted to do this with him. Your cries and gasps were music to him, a lovely score that was bringing him close to the edge too quickly.

He kissed down your jawline to your neck, sucking a mark there, feverishly imagining you branded with his lips. Every moan that fell from your mouth dripped like liquid heat down his spine, and every time you dug your nails into the muscles of his back, he swore he could ascend then and there. Skin slapped skin, wet squelching noises echoed through the room, and the pleasure racing through him, coming to a boiling point, was making him lose his mind.

He was seized by the need to make you come first. The rhythm of his hips never slowed as he reached down between you, making tight, fast circles on your clit in time with his thrusts. You gasped, fingers clutching his arm to give you something to hold on to, your eyes meeting his in a silent, desperate plea.

“Fuuuuuuck,” he groaned, breathing too hard. He couldn’t look away from your face. “Come for me, baby, come on my cock, milk me dry.” He shuddered and moaned your name, and he felt you lock up, muscles tensing, nails digging into his bicep, cries pouring from your lips, your cunt clenching him so tightly he nearly passed out. Instead, he came hard, choking on a raspy groan, pressing his lips to your skin as you both quaked. Your twin orgasms felt endless, until he barely remembered when they had begun, and finally he collapsed against you, dizzy and euphoric.

It took everything in him to fight his instincts through the haze of absolute delight. He wanted to curl around you, envelop you in his arms, press kisses to your temple, your cheek, your forehead, whisper something sweet into your ear, say things he shouldn’t. Instead, he lay there for a minute, warring between floating and climbing back into his body. Finally, when you groaned and shifted beneath him, he pushed his weight onto his own limbs, pulling out of you carefully.

He heard the soft sound you made when his cock slipped out, like you missed its weight, and it made something in him ache in a single pulse, an echo of you.

“Be right back,” he mumbled, sliding off the bed and onto his feet.

Hyunjin removed the condom, tied it off, and floated to the bathroom, where he disposed of it and pulled out a washcloth from your linen closet before running water until it was warm to wet it. When he returned to the bedroom, you hadn’t moved and your eyes were closed, your chest still rising and falling a little harder than normal. He settled gently next to you on the bed and reached between your legs with the washcloth, cleaning you up as carefully as he could. Your eyes fluttered open and you smiled tiredly at him. “Thank you,” you said, voice barely above a whisper.

Anything for you. God, anything for you. “Seemed like the gentlemanly thing to do,” he said instead.

You huffed a weak laugh. “You’re a gentleman now?”

I’ll be anything you want me to be. “Thought I’d give it a try.”

“You’re doing a good job,” you sighed, sounding more sincere than teasing. When you grabbed at his hand, he let you pull him down next to you, even though he was confused. You curled into him and his heart swooped. “Lie with me a sec, I’m tired.”

“Me too,” he said, with a waver in his voice he hoped you didn’t catch.

Hyunjin entwined one arm around your waist, anchoring you to him. His thumb absently drew tiny shapes against your hip, and you melted against him, sleepy and relaxed.

He listened as your breathing evened out, slow and steady. Even though he felt wrung out, spent, he couldn’t join you in sleep, his mind racing with everything. He didn’t want to spoil a perfect evening by wanting more, but he knew that he was beginning to drown in whatever this was. Worse, he couldn’t bring himself to want to drag himself out. He knew he’d be irrevocably content to destroy himself while you watched.

He ached to say something in a whisper while you slept, but he couldn’t risk you hearing him. Instead, he mouthed I love you at the ceiling while his fingers tightened on your hipbone. He let you lie there against his side until well after his arm that cradled you had fallen asleep.

* * *

Once again, Hyunjin told himself that that was probably it. You hadn’t said anything about a recurrence, just asked him to hook up again, and maybe that was all you needed. He didn’t want to waste a drop of his energy being greedy. He wanted to deserve what he had already gotten. Even so, even though he tried not to anticipate any more luck, he was on the lookout for the possibility a little more hopefully than before.

A little less than a week later, he let himself in to your apartment for a regular hangout, only to find the fragments of a smashed bowl all over your kitchen floor. You were nowhere in sight.

“Don’t go in the kitchen!” you yelled from the bathroom. There was a mad edge to your voice that made his heart tense. Hyunjin skirted the pieces and found you sitting on the edge of your tub, hunched over as you ran water over a gash on your foot that was bleeding.

“What happened?” he said, dropping to his knees beside you.

“Smashed a stupid bowl,” you grumbled.

“Doesn’t the ramyeon come in bowls already?” he said.

“It was for the ice cream.”

“You got ice cream?”

“Yeah, I wanted to—it doesn’t matter,” you said, and he could see tears rimming your waterline. Then you faced him, and something in his face made you break further. “I’ve had the worst day.”

“Oh,” he said, and instinctively stretched out his arms. You folded into him, and while you didn’t sob, he did feel moisture start to gather on the front of his shirt.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he said.

“No,” you said, muffled.

“Okay,” he said, running his hand soothingly through your hair.

“I was going to ask you for a favor,” you said. “That was the... ice cream.”

“The ice cream was the favor?” he said blankly.

“No,” and you hiccuped a laugh as you pulled out of his hold. “The ice cream was the favor in exchange for the favor. I got you the coffee flavor with chocolate chunks that you like. Had to go around to four different stores to find it, everywhere was out.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” he said automatically.

“You like it,” you said simply, and his heart flipped over.

He cleared his throat, trying to maintain composure. “So what’s the favor for you, then?”

You didn’t look him in the eye. “This is the worst way to ask,” you said, swiping tears off your face. “I was just so frustrated, and tense, and I thought we could, like...” You gestured vaguely toward the bedroom.

The light finally clicked on in his brain. “Have sex?”

You nodded.

“Y/n,” he said slowly, “you do not need to buy me ice cream to get me into bed.”

“I know, but—”

“It’s been good for me too,” he said, only barely avoiding gritting his teeth to get through the understatement. “You can stop thinking of it as a favor. Please.”

“Yeah, but I was going to ask you if I could take control and ride you.”

His stomach swooped, and he was instantly lightheaded.

“You want to—huh.”

“Only if you want!” you rushed. “I just... today’s been so out of control, and once I thought about being in control of something—and then I thought of that—and I formulated this whole stupid plan to ask you and it’s probably not—”

He raised a hand to stop you, trying to compose himself internally. It was as if someone had offered him a piece of candy as a bribe to take some priceless treasure off their hands.

Sitting on the edge of the tub, he wordlessly reached for your injured foot. You raised it and let it settle in his lap. He washed it more gently than you had, and bandaged it with the bandages you had retrieved from your medicine cabinet. When it was fully patched up, he met your eyes and said, “You can use me however you need to.”

Hyunjin thought he saw you catch your breath, or maybe he was just seeing what he wanted to see. He could tell that you were about to question him again, maybe make sure he was really okay with it, so he interrupted by dipping his head and looking up at you through his eyelashes, as though you were towering over him. Something to make you feel powerful. “How do you want me?”

Your jaw went a little slack, as if you were struggling to process how easily he’d given in. But you recovered quickly. “Strip, and wait for me on the bed,” you said, your voice dipping. It sent a shiver up his spine.

He stumbled out of the bathroom, tearing off his clothes, his heart pounding, mind fuzzing. Distantly, he felt a hot streak of embarrassment that no matter how rotten he felt afterward, he’d go running back to you the second you showed even a hint of interest. Everything he’d been wearing landed in a heap by the bed, and he fell back against the pillows, sinking into the mattress, letting himself go.

Hyunjin could hear you moving around in the kitchen, sweeping up the shards of broken ceramic. He closed his eyes and willed his breath to steady. He was so turned on, entirely hard already, and the delay was only increasing his anticipation. He fisted his hands in the sheets to keep from touching himself, even though his length ached.

He concentrated hard on slowing his breathing, so much so that he didn’t realize you were in the room with him until your voice, right beside his ear, said, “So patient.”

His eyes snapped open to find you leaning over him. You dropped a single, chaste kiss on his open lips but pulled back before he could chase them. Then you started to remove your own clothes, with no more ceremony than if you were just changing by yourself.

“You tell me if you want me to stop, or need anything,” you said, dropping your underwear around your ankles and stepping out of them casually. “Otherwise, I’m going to use you just like you said.”

He let out a little involuntary whimper at that. The dark look in your eyes was making his head spin. He saw you glance at his weeping cock, fully stiff and already an angry red, but your gaze slid right past it like it didn’t even faze you, which unfortunately for him made it twitch even more. You just climbed onto the bed over him, sliding your glorious thighs up his torso until they bracketed his head and your pussy hovered just inches away from his mouth. A drop of drool ran past his lips and down the side of his cheek.

“You gonna make me feel good, Jin?” you said, tone mockingly sweet.

He swallowed. “Y-yes,” he managed.

Without further preamble, you sank down onto his face.

Hyunjin moaned loudly directly into your cunt. If he died being smothered here, he’d die happy. And if heaven looked any different from this, he’d come straight back. He lapped into you, drinking you in, fucking his tongue into you as deeply as he could manage, suckling on your clit after brushing it hard with his nose. You let him work under you until your thighs shook, your moans spilling freely out around him, settling hot in his chest like stones. Your hips started to buck into his face, but based on how your thighs worked on either side of his head, he could sense that you were still holding back. So he reached around to clutch at your ass and pull you to sit fully on him.

You gasped as his tongue went that much deeper, spurring him on. Without warning, your muscles locked up around him, and you came with a cry.

He worked you through it, indulging in the nectar of your body, until you slumped over, boneless, chest heaving. You rolled off his face sideways and landed on the other pillow, your leg still slung across his broad chest. He let you catch your breath for a minute before he pulled your calf to his mouth, planting a series of soft kisses against your shin.

Hyunjin felt you giggle tiredly beside him. “You’re so sweet,” you mumbled, eyes only half-open.

He reached around to massage the muscle of your calf, bringing a tiny moan from your throat. He could feel how tense you were, like you’d been bracing all day. When he’d sufficiently worked out most of the tension in that leg, he carefully moved it off him and sat up to minister to the other calf. Your eyes had fluttered closed, and you groaned whenever he hit a sore spot, but soon he had you breathing contentedly into the air above you.

“Rub my feet too?” you asked, and he immediately slid down over your ankle to press his thumbs into one arch.

“Mmm,” you rumbled as he worked. “So good with your hands, Jinnie.”

He felt himself go red from the praise. He switched over to your other foot, watching as your eyebrows creased and then smoothed out as he kneaded a tough spot with his knuckle.

“Amazing hands... amazing mouth...” Your eyes slid open, and you glanced down.

He followed your gaze to see that he was still painfully hard. He’d been entirely focused on you for the last few minutes, but your attention there made him remember, and flush.

“And such a pretty cock,” you cooed, propping yourself up on your elbows. “Is it good for anything, do you think?”

He whimpered, his heart racing. Just a few lightly mean words from your lips and he was folding beyond control. Secretly, he wished you’d be even meaner.

You crawled to him and kissed him, guiding his pliant body back to lie against the pillow again. His cock slapped against his stomach, and you took it in your hand, stroking it carefully once, making him gasp.

“Too—too close—” he babbled.

You gave him a pitying little smile, kissing him softly at the corner of his mouth. “That’s okay, baby, you can come whenever you want. But I’m going to ride your pretty cock until I’m satisfied, okay?”

“Yes,” he panted, “yes, please—”

“You beg so pretty, Jinnie,” you said. You reached over to the nightstand to take out a condom and quickly rolled it on him, then moved to straddle him and lined yourself up.

A litany of curses and please and oh my god fell from his lips as you sank down on him. He had to dig his nails into his palms to keep himself from coming immediately, even if you’d given him permission (and the idea that you had the power to give him permission made his head swim). He wanted to be good for you, in any way you wanted him to be. But when you planted your hands on his chest and began to roll your hips hard, he whined high in his throat and looked up into your eyes, panting pitifully. The gaze you met him with was so intensely hungry that he felt pinned in place, delirious. Everything locked up, and he came with a shout, clutching your hands to his chest like he could help you reach inside his ribs.

You rode him through it and didn’t stop, even when the threads of pleasure turned to electricity. He could only pant ah-ah-ah, his eyes squeezed shut, an errant please slipping in occasionally.

“What do you want, baby?” you cooed, a little meanly.

“Use me, use me, please,” he groaned underneath you.

“Of course, baby,” you said, still in that drippingly sweet tone, but you laced your fingers through his and squeezed, as if you could tell that he needed something soft to ground himself. Through his haze, he squeezed back, letting the edges of his mouth tick up in a smile as you brought him to ruin.

Eventually, your rhythm stuttered, your eyes rolled to the back of your head, and your orgasm crashed through you, making you clamp down on him hard as you moaned through it. Hyunjin came again weakly at that, too wrung out to do much more than murmur your name and let you fold into him as you came down from your high. He rolled both of you to the side, laying your head on the pillow, and tucked his head against your collarbone.

Every inch of him felt like it had been turned to jelly, including his brain. Later he’d try to find words for what he felt in the moment, but for now he could only float inside his body, adrift on the high.

He felt you shift next to him, and he was too weary to hold on to you, so he let you slide off him with no resistance, even though it hollowed him out a little in his chest to let you go. Your hands moved to rub his arms, and he looked at you blearily.

“You okay?” you whispered.

He just nodded.

“Did I go too hard on you?”

He shook his head. “Felt really good,” he murmured.

You smirked at him, and he took a mental picture of your mouth in a half-smile, your hair a mess on the pillow underneath you. “You seemed to be into it.”

He nodded again, too foggy to pull any useful words to his tongue.

“We can do it like that again sometime, if you want.”

His gaze met yours, searching. “Can we?”

You sighed and propped your head up on one elbow, looking down at him, a fond smile pulling at your lips. “I guess if this is going to be a regular thing, we should set some ground rules.”

* * *

It turned out that what you had in mind was mostly some structure in the form of increased discussions around personal boundaries and the institution of safe words, so either of you could tap out with no questions asked. You didn’t mention any rules about any of your other behavior with each other, and Hyunjin was both glad for it and a little wounded; you didn’t need a rule that forbade sleepovers because you rarely stayed in bed with him afterward. If you fell asleep in his arms, it was temporary, and an hour later you’d stir and hop out of bed to make your way to the bathroom. He never let himself stay over at your place either, mostly because he figured if he did that you might just sleep on the couch and not think twice about it, which would shatter him beyond repair.

You seemed emboldened at the success of having taken control, and not long after you started bringing him additional suggestions of things you wanted to try but had never had the chance to.

“And turn me down, please, if you don’t want to,” you said. “It’s just that everything is easier with you, and it’d be fun to try.”

So he did try, not just to please you, but because every one of your suggestions made him just as excited. He discovered that you relished being tied up but didn’t enjoy being blindfolded, and he was okay not being able to see you but hated not being able to put his hands on you. You found out that he could not get through one minute of you riding his thigh without turning you over and railing you into the mattress. You panicked when he put some light pressure on your throat at your request and had to use your safe word, but he came almost immediately when you did the same to him.

He cataloged your particular delight when something that hadn’t worked on you worked on him. On one memorable evening, you showed up with a collar and a set of puppy ears and shyly asked if he’d mind if you wore them, but once they were on and you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, you burst out laughing and couldn’t stop until you’d removed them. You giggled and playfully placed the ears on Hyunjin’s head, but when he turned to laugh at himself in the mirror, he instead found himself making a rather pitiful whimper that reverberated in his chest. Behind him, your eyes widened in glee, and the next thing he knew he was kneeling at the foot of the bed, naked except for the ears and the collar, watching you leaning over him and whispering something about how good boys get treats and you can obey commands, can’t you, puppy? He didn’t have to school his tongue all night, instead letting himself sink into dumb obedience. It was heaven.

And sometimes you both let go of the need to experiment and just concentrated on making each other feel good, a simple pleasure that he came to rely on more and more. When there was nothing between you and all he could do was use his body to build you up and make you cry out, he got a high as potent as any drug could give him.

He lived for the moments afterward, when you would roll over to him and just look him in the eye as you caught your breath, a warm fondness overtaking your face. You would often reach out and touch his cheek, or his arm, or his chest, and rub a few soft circles on it with your thumb or a finger. More and more often, you let him pull you into his arms after, his heartbeat thudding under your ear where you could hear exactly how you made it race.

And even after you slid out of bed to get cleaned up, often leaving him alone in the sheets to take care of himself, Hyunjin would find you in the kitchen, pouring him a glass of water or fixing tea or laying out snacks for you both to recover with. He noticed that the flavors of tea he complimented always showed up in your pantry again, and the snacks that he finished the fastest reappeared in the fridge for next time. When he made an absolute mess of his boxers and he stuck his head out of your room to ask if he could use your washer and detergent, you went and pulled out a package of boxers from your dresser drawer. “I got these in case you needed them,” you said matter-of-factly, as if this was a normal thing to do for someone you were just hooking up with. He turned them over and saw that they were in the style and color he usually wore, and he had half a mind to drop onto his knees in front of you then and there. The next time he showed up to your place, you’d washed the original pair and had them waiting for him.

He couldn’t tell anymore if this was exactly as kind as you had ever been to him, or there was something more blossoming beneath. Every time you held his hand, or fed him, or pulled a blanket over the both of you on the couch during a movie, he tried to remember if this was normal, or if it could be a sign. He wanted to be able to tell if anything had changed, but he hadn’t been able to think straight around you long before any clothes had come off, so every little thing set him spiraling. A kiss on the temple made his heart lurch. A silent invitation for him to put his head in your lap so you could run your hands through his hair while you gossiped about your coworkers made his brain go fuzzy. A hug that lasted a second too long when he showed up at your apartment made his stomach clench, and when you pulled away as normal, giving him a bright smile, he had to look past you because he knew whatever his face was doing would give him away.

It was possible there was something there, something more than there had been before. But the possibility was so thin that he couldn’t justify ever pushing it, ever testing it, ever gently nudging to see if there was more. The risk was simply too great. So he tamped everything down and sealed it away inside himself, vowing never to let it out, especially not at his most vulnerable, while he was actively living out his fantasies. You’re everything I want became you’re taking me so well, your pussy feels fantastic. You don’t know what you do to me became just like that, just like that, keep going. And the constant refrain of I love you that echoed in his brain, fighting to make it to the tip of his tongue, became so good, so good, so good.

He was starting to rip apart at the seams. He dreaded and craved every time he would fall into your bed. Continuing it indefinitely felt unthinkable, but calling it off felt impossible. He would sit at home and resolve to tell you that he had to stop, and then he would show up at your place so desperate to touch you that he felt like he couldn’t stop until you were fused into one. He daydreamed that you gained the ability to read his mind, and you divined everything from him in one second; that dream ended with you either throwing him out forever or, in the happier version, pulling him into your arms with your own confession. And still he threaded the needle between the two scenarios, the one where the two of you were just friends who slept together.

One night, after both of your bodies were already spent, Hyunjin peeled out of bed first to use the bathroom and splash some water on his face. When he emerged, you were still in bed, your chest heaving like you’d run miles, your eyes closed, a hazy, satisfied smile on your lips.

His heart ached as always to see you like that, beautiful and sated and all his and a million miles away. He stooped to pick up his boxers off the floor and slid them on. “I should—”

He stopped as you reached your arm out to him. “What?” he said.

“It’s late,” you said, your eyes meeting his. He thought he detected a hint of nervousness in your voice, a slight tremble that you valiantly tried to quell. “Stay.”

He froze. Neither of you had ever stayed overnight. It was the unspoken boundary that hadn’t been crossed.

He waited for you to qualify like you always would, always letting him know he had no obligation to say yes to you, you don’t have to or only if you want, as if there were any universe in which he had the ability to deny you. But instead you just reached out farther, your hand hanging off the edge of the bed, and whispered, “Please?”

Everything in him melted. He dropped the clothes he had picked up and forgot them entirely, climbing back into bed with you. You immediately wrapped yourself around him, letting him fold his arms around your waist and drawing you into him. You lay your head on his chest as he turned onto his back, his thoughts static.

“I like having you here,” you whispered into the dark. You sounded half-asleep already.

“I like being here,” he whispered back. Tentatively, he let one hand stroke your hair, and he felt you sink further into him, your breath beginning to fully even out. “I like... being here with you.”

You gave a little murmur of approval, but didn’t speak anymore.

Maybe it was too small of a thing to hang all his hopes on, but for the first time in weeks, Hyunjin felt less like he was being torn apart and more like he was being stitched together. He fell asleep in your bed to the sound of your breathing, holding you just like he longed to, his heart blooming with something that felt terrifyingly like hope.

* * *

The pale sunlight of the early morning painted the room when Hyunjin awoke the next morning. He looked down to find you still nestled into him, an errant sunbeam making you glow where your cheek rested on his chest. He took you in for a moment, committing this picture to memory, relishing a moment that finally, finally didn’t tinge the sweetness with bitterness. Then he very carefully extricated himself, cushioning your head so you wouldn’t wake, and put on his clothes before slipping quietly out your front door.

His head was a mess, but in a good way. The brisk morning air woke him up as he walked down the block to the coffee shop on the corner, heart pounding with the possibility that maybe things were going somewhere. Maybe you looked at him as more than a friend. Maybe the current mess in his head had an echo in yours. He wasn’t sure how the day would go, but he wanted to see it, and perhaps make sure you were both caffeinated for it.

Hyunjin ordered at the counter, your usual coffee orders and probably four too many pastries, and sat down to wait. After a moment, he caught the sound of a familiar voice.

He turned about ten degrees to see the owner of the voice sitting behind him, on the phone, oblivious: your ex. He was chatting loudly, and the sound grated in Hyunjin’s ears. He’d vowed that he’d kill this asshole if he ever had the misfortune to run into him, but for a second, he was frozen, computing.

“Yeah, I didn’t want to run into her, but I’m not going to avoid the best cafe in town just because she lives around the corner, so, you know,” he was saying into the phone. “But god, it would be awkward.” He paused. “Yeah, no, she’s probably still going crazy over it. She was so emotional. Could barely get anything done with her around, you know? She was exhausting.” A pause, and then he laughed. “Well, yeah, that’s why I stayed with her as long as I did, right? Good in bed, but it couldn’t make up for her personality—”

The barista said, “Hyunjin?” and put his order on the counter, but Hyunjin barely heard. Trembling, he rose to his feet.

Behind him, your ex inhaled in recognition and said, “Oh, shit, I gotta go,” into the phone, and then he sent Hyunjin a tentative, placating smile. “Hey, buddy,” he said, reaching out a hand as if for a handshake, as if he wasn’t a sentient pile of pond scum, “long time no see! You—”

Hyunjin saw red, and the next thing he knew, his knuckles were stinging and your ex was holding his mouth, blood starting to gush where his lip had split.

“You piece of shit!” Hyunjin was screaming, as other patrons gasped. A few leapt to their feet to intervene, but he barely registered them. “You’re a fucking piece of shit, I hope you rot in hell, you bastard—”

He was screaming so vehemently that he didn’t have time to dodge the fist that came flying at him, connecting with his nose. Pain bloomed bright in his face, and he felt warm liquid gush over his lip, the metallic taste of blood on his tongue. He was still screaming, now incoherently, as someone hooked their arms around his shoulders and dragged him away, and someone else did the same to your ex, who was muttering and pointing at him indignantly, as if expecting someone else to do something.

Hyunjin thrashed in the arms of whoever was holding him back. “Get off—get off me—”

He managed to slip out of their hold, and before anyone could stop him, he grabbed his order off the counter and bolted out the door.

* * *

You opened the door to find Hyunjin, holding coffee and a bag of pastries, his nose gushing blood.

“Are you okay?” you practically shrieked, dragging him in by the arm. “What the hell happened?”

You dragged him into the bathroom and sat him on the toilet seat, inspecting his face carefully. He flinched when you gingerly touched his nose. The coffee and pastries sat forgotten on your bathroom counter.

“What happened?” you demanded again, mopping up his face with toilet paper, careful not to make contact with his nose again.

“At the coffee shop,” he managed, and then spluttered, making blood fling out onto you. You grimaced.

“I’m going to get you some paper towels and an ice pack. Keep talking,” you said, disappearing into the kitchen.

“I was getting coffee and I—I ran into you-know who,” he said, raising his volume so you could hear him.

“Who?” you called back.

“You know,” he said.

“I really don’t,” you replied, reappearing with the materials. “Here.” You handed him the ice pack, which he settled over his nose and one eye, where a shiner was already starting to bloom, and turned to the sink to wet the paper towel to help mop up more of the blood. “Your nose is bleeding really badly. Tip your head back.”

He obeyed, training his eyes on the ceiling. “Your ex,” he said finally.

You whirled around to face him. “What?”

“I ran into your ex,” he repeated.

“And he attacked you?” you said. You hurried back to him and wiped up his face, the water cold against his hot skin.

“I—no, not exactly. I mean, kind of.”

“What do you mean, kind of?”

“He—” Hyunjin closed his eyes and exhaled, furious all over again. “He was on the phone with someone. Talking shit.”

“Okay,” you said, cleaning him gently.

He looked down at you. “Talking shit about you.”

You froze, eyes wide. Then, slowly, you said, “Okay.”

“And I’ve wanted to kill that guy for ages and I just—”

“Hyunjin—”

“I punched him in the mouth.” He was grinning now, looking down his nose to catch your reaction. Everything was bubbling up inside him. God, it had felt good to see the shocked reaction on that motherfucker’s face, to show him an ounce of consequence for his actions. Hyunjin couldn’t stop smiling.

You’d stopped wiping his face. “You did what?”

“Hit him in his stupid face.”

You took Hyunjin’s face between your hands and tilted it back down to look at you straight on. “Hyunjin. Why?”

“He was talking shit about you,” he repeated, confused.

You took a step back from him, your hand on your forehead. You were looking at him like you had something to say, but it wouldn’t come out right, so you turned away from him, but he could see your expression in the mirror. If he was hoping for fond, or happy, or proud, he wasn’t getting it. “Y/n?”

“You shouldn’t have done that,” you said quietly.

“What do you mean?”

“You shouldn’t have done that!” you snapped, whipping around. “You can’t just go around hauling off and hitting people in the face!”

“People?” he said. “It’s him!”

“I know.”

“He’s an asshole!”

“I know that!”

“He had it coming!”

“So what? You had to rain justice on him?” you said.

Hyunjin climbed to his feet. His nose gushed more. “I was defending you!”

You gaped at him. “I don’t want you to. You think I want you punching everyone who says mean things about me?”

“He cheated on you!”

“So were you punching him because he cheated, or because he was talking shit?”

“Both!”

You laughed hollowly. “That’s—that’s not—”

“You weren’t there! You didn’t hear him!”

Your eyes flashed. “And if I had been there I definitely wouldn’t have asked you to assault him on my behalf! I can handle my own shit, Hyunjin! He isn’t any of your business!”

“What are you talking about?” he spluttered. “Isn’t he? He hurt you!”

“And what,” you said sharply, “does that have to do with you?”

Something inside him sliced cleanly open.

“I—I thought—”

“You didn’t think,” you said bitterly.

He went cold. He wavered on his feet all of a sudden, whether from shock or blood loss, he didn’t know.

“Hyunjin, sit down,” you said, reaching for his arm, but he pulled out of your grasp.

“I have to—I have to go,” he stammered, then turned and stumbled toward the door.

“Hyunjin,” you said, following him closely.

“You’re right,” he said as he made his way unsteadily down the hallway, you at his heels. “I shouldn’t have punched him. Sorry.”

You grabbed his hand before he reached the front door, but he threw it open anyway.

“Hyunjin,” you said plaintively, “come back. I’m not done cleaning you up. I’m... I’m sorry I snapped at you. You’re hurt, come on.”

He met your eye. Something inside of him was screaming, raging, but a blank nothing looked out at you.

“What does that have to do with you?” he said.

Your eyes widened. He snatched his hand from your grasp and slammed the door behind him.

LEE LEEKNOW MINHO

Minho is a teasing sadist even when he’s losing control. He has you on all fours, one hand fisted in your hair as he fucks you hard from behind. Every deep thrust makes him groan, and instead of letting the sounds out freely, he leans down and sinks his teeth into your shoulder blade.

The bite is sharp and deliberate, meant to muffle his pretty moans. “Quiet… or I’ll bite harder,” he whispers, voice sweet but threatening, right before his teeth dig in again. He loves the way you whimper when he bites, the way your pussy clenches around him. He alternates between soft, teasing nips and hard, possessive bites that leave clear teeth marks.

He’ll bite the back of your neck, your shoulder, even the curve of your waist if he can reach it. Each bite is accompanied by a low, muffled groan that vibrates against your skin. When he’s close, his rhythm becomes punishing and his bites turn almost feral. He cums with his teeth sunk deep into your shoulder, groaning loudly into your skin as he fills you. Afterwards, he licks the bite marks almost apologetically while calling you his pretty kitten.

SEO CHANGBIN

Changbin is loud, intense, and completely unable to stay quiet when he’s lost in you. He has you bent over the edge of the bed in a deep doggy-style position, his powerful body completely covering yours from behind. His thick, muscular thighs slap against the back of yours with every brutal thrust, the sound wet and obscene in the room.

Every time his fat cock slams deep into you, hitting that perfect spot that makes your toes curl, a deep, guttural groan builds in his chest. He tries to hold it back, but he can’t. Instead, he leans forward, pressing his broad, sweaty chest against your back, and sinks his teeth hard into your shoulder. The bite is strong and possessive, his jaw clenching as he muffles a loud, animalistic moan against your skin.

“Fuck— baby, you’re so tight,” he growls, voice deep and rough, the words vibrating through his teeth into your flesh. His massive hands grip your snatchable waist tightly, fingers digging deep into your soft skin as he uses your body like a handle to pull you back onto his thick cock. The contrast is overwhelming. His huge, muscular frame against your smaller one, his teeth sunk into your shoulder while he pounds you mercilessly.

The position lets him hit even deeper, and his muffled moans become louder, more broken. He growls into your skin, teeth clenched tight as his hips stutter. He cums with a loud, deep, muffled roar, sinking his teeth hard into your shoulder as thick ropes of cum flood deep inside you. His whole body shakes against yours, muscles flexing as he holds you in place, refusing to let go until he’s completely emptied himself.

HWANG HYUNJIN

Hyunjin turns even something as raw as biting into something almost poetic. He has you riding him slowly, his back against the headboard, hands gripping your hips as you sink down onto his cock. His head falls back at first, long hair messy, lips parted in pleasure. But as the intensity builds and his thrusts become deeper, needy moans start slipping out.

He suddenly leans forward, burying his face in the curve of your neck and shoulder. His teeth graze your skin teasingly at first, then sink in with a low, breathy groan that vibrates against you. “You feel too good… I can’t stay quiet,” he whispers hotly before biting harder, teeth pressing into your soft flesh as he snaps his hips up sharply.

The bite is firm but graceful enough to leave a clear imprint, but never truly painful. He loves the way your body jolts when he bites, the way your pussy clenches around him in response. His long fingers dig into your waist as he uses your body to bounce you harder on his cock. Every deep thrust is paired with a new bite. On your collarbone, the top of your breast, the sensitive spot where your neck meets your shoulder.

Then he'd moans against your skin, teeth grazing before sinking in again. His voice is breathy and beautiful, even when muffled. As he gets closer, his bites become more desperate, almost frantic. He holds you down on his cock with one hand on your waist while his mouth stays latched onto your shoulder, moaning loudly into your skin as he cums deep inside you. Afterward, he gently kisses and licks every bite mark, admiring how pretty they look on your skin while whispering how perfect you are.

HAN JISUNG

Jisung is loud, desperate, and completely unable to stay quiet when he’s inside you. He has you in missionary, legs wrapped around his waist as he fucks you hard and fast. His face is buried in your neck, hot breath fanning against your skin with every thrust.

Every time his cock hits that perfect spot deep inside you, a loud, broken moan tries to escape him. He solves it by sinking his teeth into your shoulder, muffling the sound against your skin. “Fuck— baby, you feel so good I can’t—,” he whimpers before biting down harder, teeth digging in as his hips snap forward desperately.

His bites are messy and needy, lots of small, overlapping marks all over your shoulders, neck, and collarbone. He can’t control himself. The harder he pounds into you, the harder he bites, using your body to muffle his loud, whiny moans. “I’m sorry— you’re too tight,” he whines pathetically against your skin, teeth still latched on.

When he gets close, his thrusts turn frantic and sloppy. He buries his face completely in your neck and bites down hard on your shoulder as he cums, moaning loudly into your flesh while filling you up. His whole body shakes against you. Even after he finishes, he keeps his teeth gently pressed against your skin for a few seconds, breathing heavily, before he starts kissing and licking the marks apologetically.

LEE FELIX YONGBOK

Felix’s deep voice makes his muffled moans incredibly sexy. He has you in missionary, body pressed close to yours as he fucks you with slow, deep rolls of his hips. His face is buried in the crook of your neck, lips brushing your skin.

Every time he bottoms out, a low, rumbling groan builds in his chest. He muffles it by sinking his teeth into your shoulder, the vibration of his deep voice traveling straight through the bite. “You feel so fucking good, angel,” he groans against your skin before biting harder, teeth pressing firmly into your flesh as he grinds deep.

His bites are sensual and possessive. He loves leaving a trail of marks across your shoulders and chest. The combination of his deep voice, his teeth on your skin, and his thick cock stretching you open is overwhelming. He’ll switch between soft, teasing nips and harder bites that make you gasp. “Can’t stay quiet when you’re this tight around me,” he moans, voice beautifully low even when muffled.

When he’s close, his thrusts become deeper and more intense. He holds you tightly and bites down on your neck as he cums, groaning deeply into your skin while filling you up. The feeling of his teeth and his low, vibrating moans pushes you over the edge with him. Afterward, he gently kisses every bite mark, his deep voice soft and loving as he tells you how perfect you felt.

KIM SEUNGMIN

Seungmin tries to stay composed, but you feel too good for him to stay quiet. He has you pinned beneath him, fucking you with sharp, precise thrusts. His face is in your neck, and every time a moan threatens to slip out, he bites down on your shoulder.

The bite is firm and teasing. “Can’t even stay quiet for me?” he mocks softly against your skin before sinking his teeth in again. His bites are tender, never too painful, but hard enough to leave clear marks and make you whimper. He loves the way you clench around him when he bites. “Pathetic… getting wetter every time I bite you.”

He keeps one hand in your hair, pulling your head to the side so he has better access to your neck and shoulder. His thrusts are relentless, each one paired with a new bite. When he’s close, he bites down harder, muffling his rare but beautiful moans as he cums deep inside you. And even that bite couldn't hide how desperate his moans are spilling ending up with his whole body rigid. Afterwards, when you tried to open it up with he'll act as if that thing never happened.

YANG JEONGIN

Jeongin gets surprisingly possessive and eager when pleasure overwhelms him. He has you in doggy style or spooning, body pressed close as he fucks you hard. His face is buried in the back of your neck or shoulder, breathing heavily.

Every deep thrust makes him moan, so he solves it by biting down on your shoulder. “Noona… you feel too good,” he groans before sinking his teeth in, trying to muffle the sound. His bites start a little shy but quickly become more confident and possessive. He loves leaving marks on you, clear evidence that he was there.

As he gets more lost in pleasure, his bites become harder and more frequent. He grips your waist tightly with one hand while biting your shoulder, using your body to pull you back onto his cock. “I can’t stop… you’re too tight,” he whimpers against your skin, teeth still latched on. When he cums, he bites down firmly on your shoulder, groaning into your flesh as he fills you up, making up pull his head up just so he could gasp the pleasure out. Afterward, he becomes very soft and clingy, kissing the bite marks gently while asking if he was too rough.

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It wasn't unusual for Jaehyun to go a day or two without texting. You both had busy lives, you with band rehearsals and him with football practice, so you understood. Whenever he had time, he always came back to you. That was how your relationship worked: comfortable, intact, and especially intimate when you finally got to be alone together.

You never doubted him. He always reassured you so well.

Until now.

It had been a full week since the last time you actually spoke to him in person. No late-night visits to your dorm, no sneaking in through your window with that boyish grin. Just short, dry texts. And every time you tried calling him, he would pick up only to say he was "too busy with practice" and hang up after a minute.

Something felt... off.

You tried to shrug it off at first. Jaehyun was probably just exhausted from practice. You told yourself he'd text soon, that he just needed some time to himself. Three days ago, he had sent a short message saying he was going back to his father's house for a while and wouldn't be around campus. You understand.

But that was three days ago.

Now it had been two full weeks since you last saw him in person. Two weeks of dry, replies and calls that ended within a minute. The uneasy feeling in your chest grew heavier, tightening around your throat like a chokehold.

You weren't used to this. You weren't used to doubting him.

Lucky for you, you actually knew his father—Kim Hongjoong.

He was a genuine, warm man. A single father of three who somehow still looked like he belonged on a magazine cover. At 42, Hongjoong could easily pass for someone in his early thirties. Tall, muscular, with sharp, refined features and that same devastating smile Jaehyun inherited. He was kind, attentive, and had a quiet confidence that always made the air feel a little thicker whenever he was around.

If he wasn't your boyfriend's father... well, you wouldn't have let yourself think about it.

But right now, worry was winning over everything else.

You pulled out your phone and quickly typed a message to him.

You: Hi, Mr. Kim. Sorry to bother you. I haven't heard from Jaehyun properly in almost two weeks. He mentioned he was going home a few days ago. Is everything okay? Do you know where he is?

You hit send and stared at the screen, nerves twisting in your stomach. The party noise faded into the background as you waited.

Not even a minute later, your phone vibrated.

Hongjoong: Hey sweetheart. Jaehyun isn't home right now. He said he'll be coming next week. I'm not sure why he told you he was already here...

Your stomach dropped.

He lied.

Jaehyun lied to you.

He never lied to you. Does he?

But now the doubt was creeping in, loud and ugly. Jaehyun had lied. He told you he was going home when he clearly wasn't. Why? The question twisted uncomfortably in your chest, and the fact that you couldn't even confront him made it worse. He was completely missing in action. You typed back with slightly shaky fingers.

You: Oh. I see. Thank you, Mr. Kim. If he comes home, please tell him to message me. Thank you. Hongjoong: Of course, darling. Take care of yourself, yeah? And visit here sometimes, whenever you can.

You couldn't help but smile softly at his reply. Even through text, Hongjoong's warmth came through so easily. He really was such a sweet man, a genuinely good father. The kind of man who made you feel cared for with just a few words. For a moment, the heavy weight in your chest felt a little lighter.

You slipped your phone back into your pocket and let out a long breath, trying to push the uncomfortable thoughts about Jaehyun to the back of your mind.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady the uneasy feeling twisting in your chest.

If Jaehyun wasn't at his father's house like he claimed, then he was probably just hiding in his dorm. That had to be it. Tomorrow, you decided, you would go see him. You'd look him in the eyes and ask what the fuck was actually going on.

The next day came by so quickly.

You baked his favorite cake. Chocolate with extra frosting, hoping it would soften whatever conversation was about to happen. With the cake box in one hand and your spare key in the other, you stood in front of Jaehyun's dorm door, heart beating heavily.

You took a deep breath and unlocked the door quietly.

The moment you stepped inside, your stomach dropped. Loud, breathy female moans filled the entire dorm. The sound was unmistakable. High-pitched, needy, and very real.

He's probably just watching porn, you told yourself, trying to stay calm. He does that sometimes when he's stressed...

But something felt wrong. You walked down the short hallway, cake still in your hands, and slowly pushed open the door to his bedroom.

The sight hit you like a truck.

Jaehyun was lying on his back in the middle of the bed, completely naked. A girl you didn't recognize was on top of him, riding him hard, her head thrown back in pleasure as she moaned loudly. His hands were gripping her ass, guiding her movements while he groaned beneath her.

For a few painful seconds, you just stood there frozen, cake box trembling slightly in your hands.

Jaehyun's eyes suddenly snapped open and locked onto yours. His face went pale.

"Baby—?!" he choked out, voice hoarse. The girl on top of him let out a startled yelp and quickly tried to cover herself, but it was too late. You had already seen everything.

The cake suddenly felt heavy in your arms. The sweet smell that used to comfort you now turned your stomach. All the late replies. All the sudden "practices." All the lies about going home.

This is why.

"Kim Jaehyun! What the fuck!?"

The cake box slipped from your fingers and hit the floor with a dull thud. For a split second, everything was silent except for the girl's heavy breathing. Then your blood boils.

You didn't scream. You didn't cry. Instead, you strode forward with long, confident steps, that signature domineering aura radiating off you like ice.

The girl barely had time to react before your hand shot out. You grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her off Jaehyun with one powerful pull. She screamed as she tumbled sideways onto the mattress.

"Get the fuck off him," you said coldly, voice low but sharp enough to cut glass. She scrambled away from you, eyes wide with shock, trying to cover her naked body with her hands. Jaehyun sat up quickly, face pale and panicked.

"Babe— wait, it's not— I can explain—"

"Explain?" You let out a bitter laugh, still holding the girl's hair tightly in your grip as you glared down at him. "You lied to me for two weeks just so you could fuck someone behind my back?"

The girl whimpered as you finally released her hair with a rough shove. She quickly grabbed her clothes and ran out of the room like her life depended on it, slamming the door behind her.

Now it was just you and Jaehyun. He looked pathetic, naked, flushed, dick still hard and glistening from another girl's pussy. The sight made your stomach turn.

You stood tall at the foot of the bed, arms crossed, looking down at him like he was nothing more than a disappointing subordinate who just ruined the entire performance.

"Two weeks, Jaehyun," you said, voice dangerously calm. "Two fucking weeks of 'I'm busy' and 'I'm at my dad's'. And this is what you were doing?"

Jaehyun's eyes widened in panic. He scrambled off the bed, still naked, and lunged forward, grabbing your wrist tightly.

"Babe, wait— please, just listen to me! It's not what it looks like, I swear! She doesn't mean anything, it was just— fuck, it was a mistake—"

You felt his grip on your wrist like fire.

With a sharp, powerful yank, you shoved him off you. Jaehyun stumbled back, nearly losing his balance.

"Don't you fucking lay your filthy hands on me!" you hissed, voice dripping with venom. "A mistake? You lied to me for two whole weeks so you could fuck some random bitch behind my back and you call that a mistake?!"

Your chest heaved with rage. Your eyes blurred as tears pooled on your eyelids, making Jaehyun shrink under your glare.

"We're done," you said coldly, staring straight into his eyes. "Don't ever call me. Don't text me. Don't even look at me. Fuck off, Jaehyun."

You turned on your heels, not even sparing the fallen chocolate cake on the floor a second glance, and walked out of his room. The sound of your footsteps echoed down the hallway as you slammed the dorm door behind you with a loud bang.

Tears burned in your eyes the moment you stepped outside, but you refused to let them fall. Not here. Not for him. You were done.

For the next week, Jaehyun wouldn't leave you alone.

He texted and called nonstop, even after you blocked him on everything. He showed up outside your classes, your band practice, and your dorm. Every time he tried to approach you, your friends were right there, ready to throw punches and shield you like bodyguards. They cursed him out and dragged you away before he could get close.

You stayed strong on the outside, but the betrayal still stung.

By the start of the second week, you thought it was finally dying down. Until one afternoon.

You had just finished band practice and were walking out of the campus gate when a girl stepped in front of you. It was her. The girl you had pulled off Jaehyun that day. She looked nervous, eyes red like she'd been crying.

"Can we talk?" she asked quietly. "Please... just for a minute."

You almost walked past her, but something in her expression made you stop. You crossed your arms, staring her down.

"Fine. Talk."

She took a shaky breath.

"I'm so sorry... I had no idea you existed. Jaehyun told me he was single the entire time. We'd been seeing each other for almost a month. He said he didn't have a girlfriend, that he was too focused on football to date anyone seriously." Her voice cracked. "If I had known about you... I would never have touched him. I swear."

She looked genuinely devastated.

"I feel sick knowing I was the other woman. I'm really, really sorry. You didn't deserve any of this."

For a moment, you didn't know what to say. The anger you'd been carrying suddenly felt heavier. Jaehyun didn't just cheat on you. He had played both of you.

You let out a bitter laugh and ran a hand through your hair.

"...Thanks for telling me," you said coldly. "At least now I know how much of a lying piece of shit he really is."

The girl nodded, looking ashamed, before quietly walking away. You stood there at the gate for a long time, the evening sun casting long shadows on the pavement. The betrayal felt even deeper now.

For the next month, you drowned yourself in studies and band practice.

You threw everything you had into rehearsals, perfecting every count, every movement, every command on the field. At night, you buried yourself in books and assignments until your eyes burned. You barely slept, barely ate, and barely gave yourself time to think.

The whole campus knew what happened. The cheating scandal spread like wildfire. People whispered when you walked by, gave you pitiful looks in the hallways, and sent sympathetic messages. But you kept your chin up high, shoulders back, and that signature domineering aura firmly in place. You refuse to let anyone see you break. You were the drum major. You didn't fall apart in public.

Two months had passed since that awful day. You were in your dorm, surrounded by notes and textbooks, when your phone buzzed. You glanced at the screen.

Hongjoong: Hey sweetheart. It's been a while. How have you been? It's already been two months since I last heard from you. I didn't even know you and Jaehyun broke up until recently... Are you okay?

Your chest tightened. You stared at the message for a long time before replying.

You: Oh. Hello, Mr. Kim. Yeah, we broke up. I'm fine though, thank you for checking me up. Hongjoong: I'm really sorry to hear that. If you're free this weekend, why don't you come over for dinner? I'll cook. You can talk about what happened if you want to... or we can just eat and you can forget everything for a while. No pressure. I just hate the thought of you dealing with this alone, besides I know for sure whatever the reason is, it could have been my stupid son's fault.

You bit your lip, fingers hovering over the screen. Part of you wanted to say no and keep burying yourself in work. But another part, the tired, angry, emotionally drained part, desperately needed to let it all out.

You: Okay. I'll come. Thank you, Mr. Kim. Hongjoong: Great. Come by Saturday at 6? Can't wait to see you, sweetheart.

Saturday came faster than you expected. By 6:30 PM, you were standing in front of Hongjoong's house, heart beating a little faster than usual. You had chosen one of your favorite Sunday dresses. A soft, off-shoulder cream-colored dress that hugged your figure nicely but still looked modest enough. You tugged at the hem nervously, suddenly wondering if it was too much. Too pretty. Too revealing for a dinner with your ex-boyfriend's father.

You took a deep breath and rang the doorbell.

A few seconds later, the door opened. Kim Hongjoong stood there, looking unfairly good in a simple black button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, revealing toned muscles. His dark hair was slightly tousled, and when he saw you, his face lit up with a warm, genuine smile.

"You're here," he said softly, voice rich and comforting. His eyes quickly scanned you from head to toe before he caught himself and looked back at your face.

"You look great. Come in, sweetheart."

He stepped aside, letting you enter. The house smelled amazing, Garlic, herbs, and something savory that made your stomach rumble.

"I'm sorry I'm a little late," you murmured.

"Don't apologize. I'm just glad you came." He closed the door behind you, then gently placed a hand on your lower back to guide you towards the dining area. The light touch sent a small, unexpected shiver up your spine. "I made carbonara and grilled steak. Hope you're hungry."

As you followed him, the reality of the situation settled in. This was the first time you'd been here since the breakup. No Jaehyun. Just you and Hongjoong.

He pulled out a chair for you like a gentleman, then disappeared into the kitchen for a moment before returning with two glasses of wine. Hongjoong sat across from you, his warm gaze never leaving your face.

"So..." he started gently, voice low and careful. "Do you want to eat first and relax... or do you want to tell me what really happened between you and my son?"

He leaned forward slightly, eyes full of quiet concern and something deeper you couldn't quite name.

"I'm here to listen to everything. No judgment."

You sat quietly for a moment, staring at the glass of wine in your hands. The warmth of Hongjoong's home and his gentle presence made the walls you'd built over the past two months feel dangerously thin.

"I... I'll tell you," you whispered. Hongjoong nodded, giving you his full attention. He stayed silent, patient, as you started talking.

You told him everything.

How Jaehyun had been distant for weeks. The constant excuses. The lies about being at his house. How you baked his favorite cake and went to his dorm with a spare key, hoping to fix things. How you walked in on him fucking another girl. How he had the audacity to lie and say it was a mistake.

The more you spoke, the more your voice shook.

"I kept myself busy for two months straight," you continued, tears already blurring your vision. "Studies, practice, rehearsals... anything just to stop thinking about it. The whole campus knew. Everyone was looking at me with pity and I hated it. I'm supposed to be strong, supposed to be in control... but he made me feel so stupid."

Your throat tightened painfully.

"I trusted him. I never doubted him even once. And he played me like I was nothing. He told that girl he was single the whole time. He lied to both of us."

The dam finally broke. A sob ripped from your chest. Tears streamed down your face as all the anger, humiliation, and pain you'd been holding in came rushing out at once.

"I feel so pathetic..." you cried, covering your face with both hands. "I'm supposed to be better than this. I hate that he still has this much power over me."

You couldn't stop sobbing.

Suddenly, you felt strong, warm arms wrapped around you. Hongjoong had moved from his seat and pulled you into a tight, comforting hug. One hand gently rubbed your back while the other cradled the back of your head.

"Shhh... it's okay," he whispered softly against your hair, voice deep and soothing. "Let it all out, sweetheart. You don't have to be strong right now. Not here."

He held you closer, letting you cry into his chest as your body shook with heavy sobs.

"You're not pathetic," he murmured firmly. "You're incredible. My son is the idiot who couldn't see what he had."

Hongjoong didn't let go. He kept holding you, rocking you gently, his warmth and steady heartbeat slowly calming you down as you cried out months of pent-up pain.

"Just so you know," Hongjoong said softly, still holding you close, "I didn't raise my son to be like that. I thought I taught him well."

His voice was low and heavy with disappointment. One of his hands kept rubbing slow, soothing circles on your back while the other gently cradled the back of your head.

"I don't know where he got the idea that cheating is okay," he continued, almost to himself. "I'm really sorry, sweetheart. You didn't deserve any of this. Not a single second."

You stayed buried against his chest, your sobs slowly quieting into shaky breaths. His shirt was damp with your tears, but he didn't seem to mind. He smelled comforting, like warm cologne, fresh laundry, and something distinctly him.

Hongjoong pulled back just enough to look at your tear-streaked face. His thumb gently wiped away the tears still clinging to your cheeks, his touch incredibly tender.

"Well..." you whispered shakily against his chest, voice still thick with tears, "just by how you're treating me right now... maybe it's only the looks that Jaehyun inherited from you."

Hongjoong let out a soft, surprised chuckle, the sound vibrating warmly through his chest. He pulled back slightly so he could look at you properly, his hand still gently cupping your cheek.

"Is that so?" he murmured, a small, handsome smile tugging at his lips. His thumb brushed another stray tear from your skin. "I'll take that as a compliment then."

Hongjoong watched you with quiet intensity, his dark eyes never leaving your face as you pushed the pasta around your plate. The warm lighting in the dining room cast soft shadows across his sharp jawline and the open collar of his black shirt.

He set his wine glass down slowly, the quiet clink breaking the silence.

"What do you want to do with Jaehyun now?" he asked, voice low and velvety.You stared at your plate for a long moment, the hurt and rage you'd buried for two months rising back to the surface like poison.

"I want him to learn his lesson," you said bitterly, your voice cracking. "I want it to hurt. I want him to feel even a fraction of the humiliation and betrayal he made me feel."A heavy silence filled the room.

Hongjoong leaned back in his chair, studying you carefully. Then the corner of his mouth slowly lifted into a dark, dangerous smile. He stood up and walked around the table until he was standing right beside you. His tall frame towered over you as he gently tilted your chin up with two fingers, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"Then let me help you teach him," he murmured, his thumb brushing slowly across your bottom lip. "We can film ourselves in bed. You and me. I'll fuck you the way you deserved. I'll make you moan my name so loudly the camera catches every desperate sound."

Your breath hitched.

Hongjoong leaned down closer, his lips hovering near your ear as his voice dropped into a husky whisper.

"Imagine it, sweetheart... My hands all over this beautiful body. My cock buried deep inside you while you're falling apart. And then we send that video straight to Jaehyun. Let him watch his own father ruining the girl he was stupid enough to cheat on." He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his own burning with lust and something dangerously possessive.

"You'll be screaming for me... and he'll be forced to watch every second of it."

His fingers slid from your chin down the side of your neck, leaving a trail of heat on your skin."It's your decision," he said softly, but his eyes were anything but soft. "If you want real revenge... I'll give it to you tonight. I'll make sure my son never forgets what he lost."

You stared at Hongjoong, heart hammering wildly in your chest.

He was undeniably attractive. The way his black shirt stretched across his broad chest and muscular arms, the sharp line of his jaw, and those intense eyes that seemed to see right through you. At 42, he looked better than most men half his age. But this... this was crossing a dangerous line.

"I... I don't know," you whispered, voice shaky. You looked down at your hands, fingers twisting together nervously. "Mr. Kim, he's still your son. This feels... wrong."

Hongjoong gave you a warm, understanding smile, the kind that made the corners of his eyes crinkle gently. His hand slid from your thigh to your back, giving you a soft, comforting pat as if he could sense the storm of emotions inside you.

"It's okay," he said softly, voice gentle and reassuring. "I don't like pushing things on people, sweetheart. Especially not you."

He straightened up and moved back to his seat across from you, though his eyes never really left your face. The tension in the air slowly eased, but the heat of his earlier words still lingered.

"Go ahead and eat," he added with a small nod toward your plate. "Then you can rest if you want. No pressure at all. I'm just happy you're here."

You nodded quietly and picked up your fork again, though your appetite had mostly vanished. The carbonara tasted amazing, but your mind kept replaying his proposal, the image of you and Hongjoong in bed, filming everything, sending it to Jaehyun.

For the next few weeks, Hongjoong's offer refused to leave your mind.

It lingered like a parasite burrowing deeper every quiet moment. Late at night while you tried to study. During band practice when your mind should've been focused on counts and formations. Even in your dreams, his low voice would whisper the filthy promise again and again.

You told yourself it was wrong. Disgusting, even. He was your ex-boyfriend's father for heaven's sake. But no matter how hard you tried to push the thought away, it always crawled back, hotter and more tempting each time.You decided to ignore it. Bury it. Move on.

Until one sunny afternoon.

You were walking past the football field when you saw them.

Jaehyun was sitting on the bleachers with the same girl, the one you had dragged off his cock that day. She was laughing at something he said, leaning into his side while his arm was casually draped around her shoulders. He looked... completely unbothered. Like he hadn't shattered your trust and humiliated you in front of the entire campus.

Something ugly and sharp twisted violently in your chest.Your feet stopped moving. Your fists clenched tightly at your sides.All the pain, the anger, and the humiliation came rushing back in full force. And right behind it, Hongjoong's voice echoed clearly in your head.

"If you want real revenge... I'll give it to you."

That's when you stopped hesitating.

The sight of Jaehyun laughing with that girl on the bleachers had ignited something feral inside you. No more crying. No more burying the pain. Tonight, you were going to make him regret ever laying eyes on anyone else.

Later that evening, you stood in front of the his father's house with fire in your eyes and steel in your spine. Your fist knocked firmly on the wooden door.

The door opened, and there was Hongjoong.

He looked devastatingly attractive in a simple black button-up with the top few buttons undone, revealing a hint of his toned chest. His dark hair was slightly messy, and the moment his eyes landed on you. Standing there with flushed cheeks, furrowed brows, and clenched fists.

Before he could even speak, you looked him dead in the eyes and said with absolute conviction. "Let's do it."

The air between you instantly thickened. Hongjoong's gaze darkened with raw hunger as he stepped aside, silently inviting you in. The moment the door closed behind you with a soft click, it felt like the outside world had been shut out completely.

Your head started to spin.You didn't know if it was because of Hongjoong's strong, woody perfume, deep, masculine, and intoxicating, that kept flooding your senses with every breath, or if it was the sudden wave of nervousness crashing over you all at once.Your heart hammered violently in your chest. Your palms felt clammy. The reality of what you just agreed to hit you like a freight train.

"Come with me," he said softly.

His hand slid down to yours, at the flat as he guided you upstairs. The house was quiet except for the sound of your own heartbeat echoing in your ears. Every step up the stairs made your stomach flutter harder.He led you down the hallway and pushed open the door to the master bedroom. The room was spacious and masculine, dark wood furniture, a large king-sized bed with crisp black sheets, and soft ambient lighting from the bedside lamps. The air smelled faintly of his cologne, the same intoxicating scent that had made your head spin earlier.

Hongjoong gently pulled you inside and closed the door behind you with a soft click. Without saying a word, he guided you toward the bed, his hand resting lightly on your lower back.

"Sit down, sweetheart," he murmured.You obeyed, lowering yourself to sit at the edge of the large bed. The mattress dipped slightly under your weight. Hongjoong stood in front of you, tall and commanding, looking down at you with dark, hungry eyes.He reached out and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch surprisingly tender.

"Nervous?" Hongjoong asked softly, his voice low and gentle as he stayed crouched between your parted thighs.You could only nod, not trusting your voice. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, but you couldn't deny it. Your heart was racing so fast you felt lightheaded, and the way he was looking at you, so intense, so patient, yet so hungry, made everything feel overwhelming.

Hongjoong gave you a small, understanding smile. He rose slowly from his crouch and sat beside you on the edge of the bed, his thigh pressing warmly against yours. One arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to his side while his other hand came up to gently cup your face.

"It's okay to be nervous, sweetheart," he murmured, thumb stroking your cheek. "This is a big step. But I promise... I'll take care of you."

He leaned in and pressed a slow, tender kiss to your forehead, then another on your temple, letting his lips linger there. The scent of his cologne wrapped around you again, making your head spin in the best way.

"I'm not going to rush you," he whispered against your skin. "We can go slow."

His hand slid down from your face to your neck, then lower, tracing the line of your collarbone with feather-light fingers. He tilted your chin up so your eyes met his again.

"Tell me what you want," he said softly, eyes dark but patient. "Do you want me to kiss you? Touch you? Or do you just want me to hold you until the nerves settle down?" His thumb brushed slowly over your bottom lip as he waited, giving you full control even while his body radiated heat and barely contained desire.

The sigh that left your lips was soft and shaky the moment Hongjoong's lips met yours.It wasn't rushed or demanding. It was slow, warm, and devastatingly gentle, like he was savoring the first taste of something he had wanted for a long time. Your head instinctively leaned into him, eyes fluttering shut as a rush of heat spread through your body.

Hongjoong hummed approvingly against your mouth, one hand cupping the back of your neck while the other stayed firmly on your waist, pulling you closer. His lips moved against yours with experience, deepening the kiss gradually until you parted your lips for him. When his tongue slipped inside, tasting you, a quiet whimper escaped your throat.He kissed you like he had all the time in the world, deep, sensual, and thorough. The kind of kiss that made your toes curl and your thighs press together instinctively.

When he finally pulled back, just enough to let you breathe, his forehead rested against yours. His breathing was slightly heavier, eyes half-lidded and dark with desire as he looked at you.

"Still nervous?" he whispered, voice husky. His thumb brushed tenderly over your now slightly swollen bottom lip.You barely managed a small shake of your head.

"There we go." Hongjoong smiled, slow and predatory, before capturing your lips again, this time with more hunger. His hand slid down your side, gripping your hip as he guided you further onto the bed until your back gently met the soft mattress.

He hovered over you for a moment, drinking in the sight of you lying in his bed, flushed cheeks, parted lips, and eyes hazy with nerves and arousal. Then, without breaking eye contact, he sat back on his knees and reached for the buttons of his black shirt.

One by one, he undid them slowly, deliberately, revealing his toned chest and defined abs inch by inch. The shirt slid off his broad shoulders and strong arms, exposing his muscular upper body. He was even more impressive than you had imagined, years of quiet discipline showing in every line of his torso. He tossed the shirt aside without care.

Your breath caught.

Hongjoong leaned down again, capturing your lips in another slow, heated kiss. His bare skin radiated warmth as he pressed closer, one hand sliding up your side.

His fingers found the hem of your sundress. He sat up slightly and gently tugged the fabric upward, eyes locked on yours the entire time, giving you every chance to stop him. You lifted your hips instinctively, and he pulled the dress up and over your head in one smooth motion, leaving you in just your bra and panties.

Hongjoong let out a low, appreciative groan as his gaze roamed over your body.

"Fuck... look at you," he murmured, voice rough with desire. His hands traced your waist, then moved up to cup your breasts through your bra, thumbs brushing over the fabric. He leaned down and pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone, then lower, between the valley of your breasts. His fingers skillfully unclasped your bra and slid the straps down your shoulders, freeing your breasts.

"Perfect," he breathed, eyes dark.He tossed your bra aside and returned to kissing you — deeper this time, while his hands explored your now mostly bare body with slow, reverent touches.

Hongjoong kissed you like he was starving for you, his mouth claiming yours in deep, slow strokes while his hands explored your body with growing hunger. He trailed kisses down your neck, across your collarbone, and lower, until his lips wrapped around one of your nipples, sucking gently.

A soft moan slipped from your lips.

He continued downward, pressing wet kisses along your stomach until he reached the waistband of your panties. Without hesitation, he hooked his fingers into the thin fabric and started slowly pulling them down your thighs, exposing you completely to his hungry gaze.

As the lace slid down your legs, Hongjoong looked up at you, eyes dark with lust. His voice came out low and rough, slightly breathless.

"Where's your phone, sweetheart?" His hands never stopped moving. He finished pulling your panties off and tossed them aside, then ran his palms up your bare thighs, gently spreading them wider so he could settle between them.You could barely think straight, head spinning from the sensation of being completely naked under him.

"In... in my bag," you managed to whisper, voice shaky. "By the door..."

Hongjoong hummed in acknowledgment. He leaned down and pressed a slow, open-mouthed kiss right above your mound, dangerously close to where you were already aching for him.

"Stay right here," he murmured against your skin, his breath hot. "Don't move."

He stood up for a moment, giving you a full view of his sculpted torso and the obvious bulge straining against his pants. He walked over to your bag, retrieved your phone, and returned to the bed.

Hongjoong gave you one last deep kiss before pulling back, then handed you your phone with a dark, heated look in his eyes.

"Here, sweetheart," he said, voice low and commanding. "You're going to record this."

He helped you sit up and lean back against the plush headboard, propping pillows behind you so you were comfortable. Then he moved down the bed, settling his broad shoulders between your spread thighs. His large hands gripped the back of your knees and pushed your legs wider apart, fully exposing your glistening pussy to him.

Your hands trembled slightly as you opened the camera app on of your phone and switched it to video mode. You hit record.

Hongjoong looked straight into the lens for a moment, a wicked smirk on his lips, before his gaze dropped back to your dripping core. Without another word, he leaned in and dragged his tongue slowly up your slit in one long, filthy stroke. A broken moan immediately spilled from your lips.

"Oh my god..." you whimpered, hips twitching.

Hongjoong groaned at your taste, the vibration sending sparks through your body. He licked you again, slower this time, savoring every drop before wrapping his lips around your swollen clit and sucking gently.

"Fuck—!" you cried out, your free hand flying down to grip his hair.

He ate you out like a man possessed, slow and deliberate at first, then faster, more hungry. His tongue circled your clit, flicked it, then dipped down to push inside you. The wet, obscene sounds of his mouth on your pussy filled the room, clearly captured by the camera.

You struggled to keep the phone steady, your hand shaking as pleasure coursed through you. "Joong— ahh!" you moaned loudly, eyes rolling back. "It feels so good..."

He looked up at the camera again, eyes almost rolling at the back of his head, while you watched his face contort through the screen of your phone. He then slid two thick fingers deep inside you, curling them perfectly against that sensitive spot. Your moans grew louder, more desperate, as you tried your best to keep recording, legs trembling around his head, hips grinding against his talented tongue.

His tongue worked your swollen clit with expert precision, licking, sucking, and flicking in perfect rhythm while two thick fingers pumped deep inside your soaked pussy. The wet, filthy sounds of his mouth and fingers filled the room, all of it being captured clearly on the phone you were desperately trying to hold steady.

"Ahh—! Hongjoong... fuck!" you moaned loudly, your voice cracking.

Your head fell back against the headboard, but you forced your eyes to stay on the camera. Your thighs trembled violently around his shoulders. The pleasure was building fast, coiling tight and hot in your lower belly.

Hongjoong groaned against your pussy, the vibration making your back arch sharply.

"You taste so fucking good, baby," he growled, lips shiny with your juices. He curled his fingers harder, stroking that perfect spot inside you with every thrust. "So wet for me already."

"I— I can't—" you whimpered, hips grinding desperately against his face. "It's too good... I'm— I'm so close!"

He sucked harder on your clit, flicking his tongue rapidly while his fingers fucked you faster, deeper. Your whole body started shaking uncontrollably. Hongjoong pulled back just enough to look up at you, eyes dark and commanding.

"Cum for me, sweetheart. Cum on my tongue." He dove back in, sucking your clit into his mouth with intense pressure while his fingers curled relentlessly against your g-spot. The coil inside you snapped.

"Oh my god— Hongjoong!" you screamed, your back arching violently off the bed. Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave. Your thighs clamped around his head as you came hard, pussy pulsing and gushing around his fingers. Wave after wave of intense pleasure ripped through your body, making your vision blur and your legs shake uncontrollably. You kept moaning his name brokenly, loud and shameless, as the orgasm went on and on. You didn't even know if you properly recorded the way he made you cum. It was too much for you to think about it.

Hongjoong didn't stop. He kept licking and fingering you through every pulse, milking every last drop of pleasure until you were a trembling, whimpering mess against the headboard. Only when your moans turned into weak, oversensitive whimpers did he finally slow down. He pressed one last gentle kiss to your throbbing clit before pulling his fingers out and looking up at you with a satisfied, predatory smirk.

Hongjoong huffed a heavy, shaky breath against your soaked pussy, his chest rising and falling as he tried to steady himself. Your orgasm had clearly affected him just as much. His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide with lust, and his lips glistened with your release.

He slowly crawled up your body like a predator, hovering over you on his forearms. His muscular frame caged you in completely, his hard cock pressing hot and heavy against your inner thigh through his pants.

Without a word, he snatched the phone from your trembling hands. He quickly tapped the screen a few times, saving the video with a satisfied hum, then tossed the phone onto the far side of the bed where it landed safely on the pillows.

Now there was nothing between you two. Hongjoong looked down at you with pure hunger, his dark hair falling slightly over his eyes. His bare chest brushed against your breasts with every breath he took.

"Enough recording for now," he rasped, voice thick and rough. "I want to feel you properly."

He leaned down and captured your lips in a deep, messy kiss, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. One of his hands gripped your thigh, pulling it up around his waist as he ground his clothed erection against your bare, sensitive pussy. You moaned into his mouth, still twitching from your orgasm. Hongjoong broke the kiss just enough to rest his forehead against yours, breathing heavily.

"Are you ready for me, sweetheart?" he asked, voice low and husky, barely holding back his hunger. You didn't answer with words. Instead, you looked straight up into his eyes, fiery, determined, and needy all at once, and slowly wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Your fingers threaded through the hair at the nape of his neck as you gave him the clearest answer you could.

Hongjoong's eyes darkened even more. A low, pleased groan rumbled from deep in his chest.

"That's my good girl." He reached down between your bodies and quickly freed himself from his pants. His hard cock sprang out, thick, heavy, and flushed. He wrapped a hand around the base and rubbed the swollen head up and down your soaked slit, coating himself in your wetness.

You gasped softly at the feeling, your arms tightening around his neck.

Hongjoong pressed his forehead against yours, breathing heavily as he lined himself up with your entrance.

"Eyes on me, baby," he whispered roughly. Then, with one slow but firm thrust, he pushed the thick head of his cock inside you.

A broken moan escaped your lips as he stretched you open. Inch by inch, he sank deeper, groaning at how tightly your walls gripped him.

"Fuck... so tight," he hissed through gritted teeth, fighting the urge to slam all the way in. "You feel even better than I imagined." He buried his face in the crook of your neck, kissing and sucking on your skin as he gave you time to adjust to his size, his hips twitching with the effort of holding back.

The moment you wrapped your arms around his neck and looked him in the eyes, something in Hongjoong snapped.

He didn't hold back anymore.

With a deep, guttural groan, he thrust forward hard, burying his thick cock deep inside you in one powerful stroke. A loud, broken cry tore from your throat as he stretched you wide open, filling you completely.

"Fuck—!" Hongjoong growled, voice raw with years of pent-up desire. "Finally..."

He didn't give you time to adjust. He pulled back almost all the way and slammed back in, setting a brutal, desperate pace right away. The bed creaked loudly beneath you as he fucked you like a man who had been starving for this moment for years.

"Been waiting so fucking long for this," he rasped against your neck, teeth grazing your skin as he pounded into you. "You have no idea how many nights I imagined fucking you raw in my bed."

Every thrust was deep and punishing, his hips snapping against yours with raw power. The sound of skin slapping skin mixed with your loud moans and his heavy grunts filled the room.

Hongjoong grabbed one of your legs and hooked it over his waist, driving even deeper. His rhythm was relentless, almost animalistic, like he was claiming you completely.

"Mine now," he groaned, one hand gripping your hip hard enough to leave marks while the other braced beside your head. "This pussy is mine."

He kissed you messily, all tongue and teeth, swallowing your moans as he fucked you harder. His hips rolled with every thrust, making sure you felt every inch of him dragging against your walls.You could barely think, only feel the way he was ruining you so perfectly. Hongjoong buried his face in your neck again, sucking hard on your skin as he growled.

He fucked you like a man possessed, hips slamming against yours with raw, years-long hunger.

He suddenly shifted his angle, hooking your leg higher around his waist and driving deeper. He thrust hard a few times, searching, adjusting, until he found it. Your whole body jerked violently.

"Ahh—! There—!" you screamed, nails digging into his shoulders.

Hongjoong's lips curled into a feral smirk against your neck.

"Right here?" he growled, voice dark and satisfied. He immediately started targeting that sweet spot mercilessly. Every thrust was precise, deep, and devastatingly fast, slamming directly into the spot that made stars explode behind your eyes. The wet, filthy sound of his cock pounding into your soaked pussy echoed loudly in the room.

"Fuck yes— take it, baby," he groaned, eyes half-lidded with pleasure as he railed you without mercy. "This is what you needed, isn't it? A real man who knows how to fuck you properly."

His pace was brutal now, deep, fast, and relentless. The headboard banged loudly against the wall with every powerful thrust. Your breasts bounced wildly between your bodies as he drove into you again and again, hitting that perfect spot over and over.

You were moaning shamelessly, almost sobbing with pleasure, your arms locked tight around his neck.

Hongjoong buried his face in your neck, biting and sucking on your skin while he fucked you even harder, hips snapping with pure desperation.

"That's it," he panted, voice rough. He angled his hips again, making sure every thrust dragged perfectly against your g-spot, pushing you closer and closer to the edge at an overwhelming speed.

"You're getting so fucking tight again," he groaned, almost snarling. "Gonna cum for me already, sweetheart? Cum all over my cock like the good girl you are."

Hongjoong kept slamming into that perfect spot with ruthless precision, his hips moving in a fast, deep rhythm that left you completely undone. Your eyes suddenly rolled to the back of your head, mouth hanging open in a silent cry as the overwhelming pleasure reached its peak. Your entire body tensed violently beneath him.

"I'm— I'm cumming—!" you sobbed brokenly, voice cracking.

Your walls clamped down around his thick cock like a vice, pulsing and fluttering wildly as your second orgasm crashed through you even harder than the first. A loud, shameless moan tore from your throat, your back arching sharply off the bed while your legs shook uncontrollably around his waist.

The way your pussy squeezed him so tightly, almost begging him to cum with you, finally pushed Hongjoong over the edge.

"Fuck— baby!" he growled loudly, his thrusts turning erratic and desperate. With a deep, guttural moan, he buried himself as deep as possible inside you and came hard. Thick, hot spurts of cum flooded your spasming pussy, filling you up completely as he kept grinding into you, riding out both of your orgasms.

His body trembled above yours, hips twitching with every pulse as he emptied himself inside you, groaning your name against your neck like a prayer. For a long moment, the only sounds in the room were your heavy breathing and the faint creak of the bed. Hongjoong stayed buried deep inside you, his forehead pressed against yours, both of you panting and covered in sweat.

"Shit..." he whispered hoarsely, pressing a lazy kiss to your lips. "You feel so fucking good milking my cock like that." He gave one last slow thrust, pushing his cum deeper into you, then stayed there, savoring the warmth of your body wrapped around him.

Both of you stayed locked together, breathing heavily in the quiet aftermath.

He let out a long, satisfied sigh and gently collapsed on top of you, careful not to crush you with his weight. His face nestled into the crook of your neck, lips brushing softly against your damp skin as he tried to catch his breath.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The only sounds were your mingled breathing and the faint beating of his heart against your chest.

Hongjoong was the first to move. He pressed slow, lazy kisses along your neck and jawline, then finally lifted his head to look at you. His hair was messy, cheeks flushed, and his eyes were softer now, warm, almost tender.

"You okay, sweetheart?" he whispered, voice hoarse from exertion. One of his hands came up to gently brush strands of hair away from your sweaty forehead.

You could only nod weakly, still dazed and trembling from the intensity of your orgasms. Your arms remained loosely wrapped around his neck, fingers playing with the hair at his nape.

Hongjoong smiled softly, a small, genuine smile that made the corners of his eyes crinkle. He leaned down and kissed you, slow, deep, and full of affection this time, completely different from the raw hunger earlier.

Hongjoong stayed buried inside you for a few more moments, savoring the warmth and the way your walls still fluttered around him. He pressed one last lingering kiss to your lips before slowly pulling out with a low groan.

A thick trickle of his cum immediately leaked from your swollen pussy onto the sheets. He watched it for a second with dark satisfaction before looking back at your face.

"Stay still, sweetheart," he murmured softly, brushing a kiss on your forehead. "Don't move. I'll get you a glass of water."

You nodded hazily, still floating in a blissful, post-orgasm daze. Your body felt heavy and boneless against the mattress.

As Hongjoong got up and walked out of the room, completely naked, you reached over to the other side of the bed where he had thrown your phone. Your fingers trembled slightly as you picked it up.

The video was still there.

Without giving yourself time to overthink, you opened your messaging app, found Jaehyun's contact, and attached the video. Your thumb hovered for only a second before you hit send.The message delivered.

You stared at the screen, heart pounding. A few seconds later, the typing bubble appeared... then stopped. Then appeared again.

Finally, a message came through.

Jaehyun: What the fuck is this?

Another message followed almost immediately, his panic clear even through text.

Jaehyun: Is that... my fucking dad?! Jaehyun: Are you seriously fucking my DAD?!

You didn't reply. You smiled .A slow, satisfied, almost wicked smile spread across your lips as you scrolled through the flood of texts Jaehyun had sent in the last few minutes.

Jaehyun: What the actual fuck is wrong with you?! Jaehyun: You're seriously fucking my DAD just because I made one mistake?! Jaehyun: This is so fucked up. You're disgusting. Jaehyun: Delete that shit right now. I can't believe you'd stoop this low. Jaehyun: Answer me you fucking bitch.

Every angry, desperate message made the smile on your face grow wider. You could practically hear him shouting through the screen, the panic, the rage, the disbelief.

You were still smiling when Hongjoong returned with a glass of cold water in his hand. He paused at the doorway for a second, taking in the sight of you, naked, flushed, and glowing, sitting up in his bed while scrolling through your phone with a satisfied little smirk on your face.

Hongjoong raised an eyebrow, amused.

"Did you already send it?" he asked, walking over to the bed. You looked up at him and nodded slowly, biting your lip to suppress the grin threatening to spread across your face.

Hongjoong let out a low, rich chuckle, clearly pleased. He sat on the edge of the bed beside you and handed you the glass.

"Here, drink up," he said softly.

You took the glass and drank the rest of the water slowly while he watched you with dark, affectionate eyes. When you finished, he took the empty glass from your hand and set it on the nightstand.

He leaned in, cupping your jaw gently as he pressed a slow kiss to your lips.

"Good girl," he whispered against your mouth, voice laced with satisfaction. "Now come here."

Hongjoong pulled you back down onto the bed, wrapping his strong arms around your body and tucking you against his chest. He kissed the top of your head, one hand lazily stroking your back.

"Rest now, sweetheart," he murmured, holding you close. As you drifted off in his warm embrace, your phone buzzed one last time on the nightstand. You smiled against Hongjoong's chest and closed your eyes. Revenge had never felt so good.

permanent taglist: @hime-honne, @dxllyhorror, @thepoeticpurplepotato, @verslyns, @channlust, @leewayout, @zosauce, @kloversung, @1-aria-1, @vxyselectric, @urfavleobiscuit, @written-by-music, @fanficwriter5, @minniebitesfr, @pedropacals0l0s, @iheartkentonanami, @ncityswrld, @danielle143, @persassyismysecrettwin, @trisha-dear, @pineapple-burgah, @luv4innie, @bunbunbl0gs, @marlboropuffs, @morgangrice18, @33peach33, @peskybirdysya, @ogerontheside4, @theyknowagus, @zerefdragn33l, @melodyladean, @ebnabi, @emeraldgem22, @fweakygyatt, @taekwondoe, @sue-reads, @shinygubbins, @lilmissfergy, @quokkahansung, @binniebb, @clairementsolo, @nclabels, @genuinelybrittleidol , @parkthothwa8, @daphnnie, @hyunnjynn, @sagetakami, @hanniesbubuwife, @hycnsung, @matzduo

Even the simplest moments feel luxurious and indulgent. Curling up close to your friends, laughter spilling out freely from your glossy lips while you share bites of food that somehow tastes sweeter and richer than it should. Everything feels full, sweet, and more than enough. A soft, unrestrained giggle lingers on your lips as a gentle, glowing warmth blooms deep inside your chest, spreading slowly through your body like liquid heat. In moments like these, the world does not feel overwhelming or broken. It feels whole, like everything has finally fallen perfectly into place, just for you, wrapping you in pure pleasure.

And that is exactly what Bangchan is here for.

As the powerful CEO of a multi-billion-dollar empire, his life belongs to time he does not truly own. His days stretch into endless hours filled with meetings, high-stakes decisions, and crushing expectations that never loosen their grip on his powerful body. Even when he finally steps into the quiet of his penthouse, the tension still clings to his broad shoulders, tight and unrelenting. A traditional relationship would demand far too much from him, more time, more emotional energy, more vulnerability than he is willing or even able to give. The mere thought of it feels heavy, almost suffocating against his chest.

So instead, he chooses something simpler, something that asks for nothing and offers everything he craves. Something like you.

Having a sugar baby feels perfectly natural to him, like an elegant, quiet solution to a problem he never had time to solve. With you, everything is effortless in the best possible way. He gets your soft, inviting presence, a gentle contrast to the cold, rigid world he rules during the day. He gets your warm, undivided attention, the kind that slowly sinks into his chest and settles deep inside him. He gets the sweet, unspoken intimacy he craves, always lingering in the space between lingering touches and heated glances that make his pulse throb.

And your touch does something truly dangerous to him. Gentle and unhurried, it melts into his skin like warm honey, quietly easing the deep tension he carries without him even realizing it. The heavy weight on his shoulders loosens beneath your fingertips as they glide so slowly over his body. His breathing slows, growing deeper and heavier. His mind quiets completely. With you, he does not have to think or lead. He does not have to be anything except a man who wants to feel good, lost in the softness of your body and the warmth of your touch.

In return, you ask only for what comes so naturally to you: to be spoiled, adored, and surrounded by every pretty thing that makes you smile with delight. Soft fabrics that caress your skin, sparkling jewelry that makes you feel radiant, and fleeting little desires that never have to wait even a moment. Bangchan gives it all to you without hesitation because to him it is effortless, easy, almost second nature, as if pleasing you is the most natural thing in the world.

You give him warmth, real, soft, and fleeting warmth that soothes him so deeply. And he gives you a world where happiness is always within reach, where every little thing that makes your eyes light up with pleasure is never too far away, always ready to be yours.

But perhaps your pretty little mind is simply too weak, too soft and fuzzy, to hold even the simplest instructions he gives you. Your thoughts blur together like a sweet, messy soup, too scattered and useless to tell the word no from the clear boundaries you are supposed to respect. It is as if your brain is made of soft, malleable clay, incapable of keeping a single coherent thought long enough for it to truly sink in and stay.

After all, he is your provider. He keeps a luxurious roof over your head and every comfort within easy reach. The least you could do is obey him without question, letting his words sink into your empty head. All he asks is that you be good, pretty, and decorative, a soft, pleasing presence to be admired and used whenever he desires, whenever his hands ache to touch you again.

And yet you keep failing him so sweetly.

Time and time again, you prove yourself too simple-minded, too fractured, too empty-headed to understand even the most basic expectations. Your inability to stay in your place, to remember your role, hangs over every moment you share with him like a quiet, constant disappointment, unavoidable and undeniable, pressing gently but firmly into your soft thoughts.

Just like right now.

You really did mean it when you nodded so sweetly and said you understood. Bangchan stood in front of you, tall, steady, and impossibly commanding, his dark eyes locked on yours with that intense gaze. He told you not to leave his penthouse, his voice calm but carrying an unmistakable firmness that made the words settle heavy and warm in your chest. He said not to step outside, no matter how bored or restless you became while he was gone. He promised he would not be long. Then, softer, almost tender enough to make your heart flutter and your thighs press together, he added that he wanted to see you first thing the moment he came home, to find you waiting for him like a good girl.

In that moment, you swore you would stay, your body already tingling with the need to please him. You let him step closer until his presence wrapped around you like a warm, heavy blanket, familiar, safe, and impossible to ignore. The air between your bodies felt thick and charged with that quiet, electric tension he always left behind, making your skin flush and your breath catch. It lingered even after he pulled away, even after he gave you one last long look that felt like both a warning and something far more intimate, something that made heat pool low in your belly. When the door finally clicked shut behind him, you stood there for a moment, still wrapped in the fading scent of his cologne and the low, commanding echo of his voice that made your body ache in the most delicious way.

For a little while, you behaved. You wandered the vast penthouse barefoot, the cool polished floors smooth and teasing beneath your feet. The rooms felt far too large and far too quiet without his commanding presence filling them. Beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, the glittering city pulsed with life, bright, tempting, and alive, calling to you softly. You tried to distract yourself, scrolling through your phone with lazy fingers, sinking into the plush, expensive couch that cradled your body so comfortably, pouring yourself a drink and whispering that everything was fine, that you could be good for him.

But the silence slowly began to press in, wrapping around you like invisible hands. The luxurious penthouse, usually so comforting, started to feel more like a beautiful cage, its walls closing in with every passing second. Every room reminded you that he was not there, that his strong hands and deep voice were missing. Every passing minute stretched longer than the last, making your skin feel too tight. Restlessness bloomed low in your stomach, slow, warm, and insistent, until it became impossible to ignore. Your friends were texting, their messages lighting up your phone with promises of fun. The night outside was calling your name, pulling at you with its seductive rhythm. Suddenly, staying inside felt unbearable, your body craving movement and touch.

So you told yourself it was harmless, just this once. Just one drink. Just an hour, maybe less. He would not be back before then anyway. If you left now, you could easily slip back in before he noticed, and no one would ever know. The thought slid into your mind too easily, smoothing over the guilt before it could take root and spoil the excitement building inside you. Fifteen minutes later, you were already inside the club with your friends, the thrill of disobedience sending little shivers down your spine.

The music hit you like a living thing, deep and heavy, pulsing straight through the floor and into your bones, making your body hum with need. Colored lights flashed overhead in dreamy streaks of red, purple, and gold, bathing every face in something electric and surreal. The air was thick and warm, heavy with the mingled scents of expensive perfume, warm skin, and sweet spilled liquor that made your mouth water. Bodies moved around you in a shifting, breathing tide, brushing against yours and making your pulse race with delicious excitement, your skin tingling wherever they touched.

And just like that, the memory of Bangchan's warning began to dissolve into the heat of the night. You let yourself be pulled into the rhythm, melting into the heat of the crowd and the delicious thrill of being wanted, being seen, being desired by so many eyes. Your friends laughed beside you, their faces flushed and glowing under the flashing lights, and you laughed with them, letting the sound melt sweetly into the music. A cold drink was pressed into your manicured hand. You tilted your head back and took a long, slow sip, letting the sweet burn spread warmly through your body, loosening your limbs and softening your thoughts even more.

It felt so good to be out, so dangerously good.

Alcohol had never been kind to you, no matter how much you pretended you could handle it. It always crept up too fast, spreading liquid heat through your veins, making your head deliciously light and fuzzy until your judgment slipped away into a hazy, pleasurable fog that was dangerously easy to fall into. Bangchan knew this better than anyone—that's why he rarely let you drink without him close by, watching with those sharp eyes, ready to take the glass from your fingers the moment he thought you'd had enough, protecting you from yourself.

Usually, you listened. Usually, one firm look from him was enough to keep you grounded and obedient. But tonight felt different, so much more tempting. There was something restless and reckless burning under your skin, fueled by the pounding music vibrating through your core, the thick heat of the room pressing against your body, and the thrilling knowledge that you were disobeying him so sweetly. The alcohol tasted sweeter on your tongue, less like a mistake and more like pure, liquid freedom.

For the first time, you couldn't bring yourself to care about the consequences—the dark look Bangchan would give you when he found out, how his expression would harden and his jaw would tighten in that way that made your knees weak. If anything, the thought only made your pulse flutter faster with wicked excitement, heat pooling between your thighs at the mere idea.

Your body moved against the stranger you were dancing with now, pressed close enough that the heat between you blurred into the rest of the room, your curves molding so easily against him. Unfamiliar hands wandered over your body with confidence, exploring your soft skin and making you shiver with pleasure. A low voice leaned in near your ear, murmuring something teasing that pulled a bright, careless giggle from your glossy lips. You had no idea who he was or what he had actually said, but none of it mattered tonight.

You were already drunk, far past tipsy, your head spinning gently with the music, your thoughts loose and tangled like silk ribbons, your words dissolving into soft, bubbly nonsense. Everything felt hazy and dreamlike, drenched in flashing lights and the heavy, relentless beat vibrating through your body, making your hips sway and your skin flush hot. All you could feel was the rush, the freedom, the warm, weightless happiness that made everything else feel far away and beautifully unimportant. For once, you let yourself sink completely into it, letting the music guide your hips in slow, sensual movements until the alcohol softened every sharp edge of thought, leaving you light, untouchable, almost floating on a cloud of pure, dizzy bliss.

Not until a pair of mad, burning eyes found you through the pulsing crowd of dancing bodies. Those dark eyes locked onto you with fierce intensity, eyebrows furrowed deeply, his strong jaw slack with barely contained fury as he watched you growing careless in the middle of the heated throng. Bangchan stood there like a storm about to break, tall and commanding even in the chaos of flashing lights and moving bodies, his presence cutting through the music like a sharp blade.

Your eyes lit up the moment you recognized his face, a bright, tipsy smile spreading across your glossy lips. Without thinking, you pulled away from the stranger you'd been grinding against just moments ago, your body still humming with the rhythm of the music. You ran toward him on unsteady heels, the world tilting slightly around you in that deliciously fuzzy way only alcohol could create.

"Channie!" you squealed happily, your voice sweet and bubbly as you threw yourself against him. You wrapped your arms tightly around his waist, pressing your soft curves flush against his hard body, and rested your cheek against his broad chest. The familiar scent of his cologne wrapped around you like a warm embrace, mixing with the heat of the club and making your head spin even more. But he just stood there, rigid and unmoving, his arms hanging at his sides instead of pulling you close like they usually did.

You blinked up at him slowly, your chin resting sweetly on his chest as you looked into those stormy eyes. Your body swayed gently against his, still riding the high of the music and the drinks pulsing through your veins.

"Channie?" you murmured again, softer this time, your voice carrying a playful little lilt even as a tiny flicker of uncertainty tried to push through the warm haze in your mind. Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, holding onto him as if that alone could melt the tension radiating from his powerful frame.

"Didn't I tell you not to fucking leave my house?" Bangchan's voice sliced through the pounding music like ice-cold steel, low and venomous, each word dripping with barely controlled rage. His dark eyes burned into you with pure fury, eyebrows furrowed so deeply they cast shadows over his face, his jaw clenched tight as he stared down at you like you were the most frustrating thing he had ever seen. There was no warmth in his gaze tonight, no trace of the usual possessive tenderness, only raw, seething anger that made the air around you feel suddenly heavy and suffocating.

Before you could even respond, his large hands shot out and gripped your arms with bruising force, fingers digging hard into your soft skin as he yanked you away from his chest. The sudden roughness made you stumble slightly on your heels, your tipsy body swaying unsteadily as the world tilted around you in a hazy blur of flashing lights and thumping bass. He didn't hug you back. He didn't soothe you. Instead, he held you at arm's length, his grip unrelenting, as if touching you any closer right now would only make his rage explode.

"You really are that fucking stupid, aren't you?" he growled, his voice low and dangerous, vibrating with fury. "I gave you one simple rule. One. And you couldn't even manage to stay inside like the good little girl you're supposed to be."

Without another word, he started dragging you through the crowded club, his strong hand wrapped tightly around your upper arm, pulling you forcefully behind him. Your feet scrambled to keep up, heels clicking unevenly against the sticky floor as bodies parted around you in a hazy wave. The music still pulsed loudly, the colorful lights flashing across his tense back and shoulders, but none of it registered fully in your foggy mind. All you could focus on was the iron grip on your arm, the way his fingers pressed painfully into your flesh, and the cold, angry energy radiating off him in waves. Your heart raced wildly, a confusing mix of drunken dizziness and nervous heat flooding your body, your empty little head struggling to process anything beyond the fact that he was mad, really, really mad.

People glanced your way as he hauled you toward the exit, but Bangchan didn't care. His jaw remained locked, his strides long and purposeful, every muscle in his body coiled with irritation. The warm, hazy pleasure you'd been floating in just moments ago began to crack under the weight of his fury, yet the alcohol still kept your thoughts soft and slow, turning even this rough treatment into something strangely electric against your skin. You whimpered softly, your free hand reaching up instinctively to clutch at his wrist, but he didn't loosen his hold even a little.

He shoved the heavy club door open with his free hand, the cool night air hitting your flushed face like a slap as he dragged you outside and into the dimly lit street. The sudden quiet outside was jarring after the deafening music, leaving only the sound of your unsteady breathing and the sharp click of your heels on the pavement. Bangchan didn't stop or slow down. He kept pulling you along toward where his sleek black car was waiting, his grip never easing, his anger still rolling off him in thick, suffocating waves.

"You think this is a game?" he snarled over his shoulder, voice sharp and cutting as he finally glanced back at you, eyes dark with disappointment and rage. "I give you everything. A roof over your stupid little head, clothes, money, freedom to be the empty-headed stupid girl that you are, and this is how you repay me? By sneaking out and grinding yourself all over some random asshole in a club?"

His words stung, sinking slowly into your hazy, alcohol-soaked mind like sharp little needles wrapped in silk. Yet even through the fear and guilt trying to push through, your body betrayed you with a faint, treacherous warmth low in your belly, responding to his raw dominance despite how angry he sounded.

You stumbled after him, lips parted in a soft, tipsy pout, your thoughts too fuzzy and scattered to form any real defense. Bangchan shoved you roughly into the passenger seat of his sleek black car, his large hand pressing firmly against your back until you were seated. The door slammed shut with a heavy, final sound that made your heart give a tiny, tipsy flutter. A moment later, he slid into the driver's seat beside you, the luxury interior suddenly feeling far too small under the thick cloud of his rage. The engine purred to life, smooth and powerful, and he pulled away from the curb without a single word, his knuckles white as they gripped the steering wheel.

You blinked up at him with wide, glassy eyes, your glossy lips curving into a soft, drunken smile. The alcohol wrapped your mind in warm, fuzzy cotton, making everything feel slow, dreamy, and strangely delightful—even his scary silence felt kind of exciting. You tilted your head cutely, letting out a tiny, bubbly giggle as you studied his tense profile, furrowed brows, clenched jaw, eyes fixed straight ahead on the dark city streets.

"Channie...?" you cooed sweetly, your voice all soft and playful, dragging out his name like a little song. "Why are you so quiet? Did something happen at work?"

He didn't answer. His eyes stayed locked on the road, jaw tightening even more as the car accelerated smoothly through the quiet night. The only sound was the low hum of the engine and the faint click of the turn signal. You shifted in your seat, your short dress riding up your thighs as you turned your body toward him like a spoiled little princess. Your manicured fingers reached out and brushed lightly against his arm, tracing small, pleading patterns on his sleeve.

"Channie, talk to me..." you whined, your tone soft and pouty, tugging at his shirt sleeve. "You're being so mean not talking to me... What did I do? Why are you like this?"

Your voice came out all soft and slurred, your head tilting lazily to the side as the room spun just a tiny bit from the drinks. That was probably why you sounded even dumber than usual. Being ignored like this made your chest feel tight and your eyes a little watery—Bangchan never ignored you! Usually, he was so soft and sweet, kissing you everywhere, his hands gentle and loving. But tonight, he was cold, and you didn't like it at all.

"Shut up."

His voice suddenly cut through the car, low and stern, like a whip cracking in the quiet air. You flinched hard in your seat, your whole body giving a little jolt. Your glossy lips parted in surprise as your heart started racing faster, a soft gasp slipping out before you could stop it. The sharp tone made your skin tingle in the worst way. Usually, his voice was warm and gentle, whispering sweet things that made your tummy flutter and your thighs press together. But tonight, it felt cold and heavy, sending a strange shiver down your spine that mixed fear with something warmer, something you couldn't quite name. It made your chest tighten, your nipples pebble lightly under your dress, and a little whimper escape your throat as you bit down on your plump lower lip. You hated how mean he sounded... but a tiny, secret part of you couldn't stop the heat blooming low in your belly, responding to his dominance even as tears prickled at the corners of your eyes.

The car finally stopped in front of the tall, glittering penthouse building. You were still pouting in the passenger seat, your head fuzzy from the drinks. Bangchan turned off the engine without a word, got out, and yanked your door open. His strong hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you out with firm, almost rough force. You stumbled on your heels, your short little dress riding up your thighs as he dragged you toward the entrance.

"C-Channie... wait..." you whined softly, your voice breathy and slurred, protesting weakly. But he didn't slow down. He hauled you down the hallway, your heels clicking helplessly behind him. The moment the front door clicked shut, he pushed you inside with a firm shove between your shoulder blades. You stumbled forward into the dark, luxurious living room, your heart pounding wildly.

The penthouse was quiet except for the sound of your shaky breathing. You turned around slowly, your big glossy eyes wide and confused, thighs rubbing together nervously as you stood there in your tiny dress. The soft fabric barely covered anything, and heat was already pooling low in your belly from the way he looked at you—his stare so intense and cold, yet making your body ache in that needy, stupid way.

"Chan... why are you being so mean to me tonight?" you whispered, your voice small and pouty, like a whiny plea in the dim room. Your plump lips trembled a bit, all glossy and pink. You could still feel the ghost of his rough grip on your wrist, a faint bruise starting to show on your soft skin. It sent sparkly tingles spreading through your body, so confusing. Even as your heart went pitter-patter with worry, your nipples perked up into sensitive little peaks under your tight, flouncy dress, poking against the fabric with every quick breath. A warm, slick heat built between your legs, making you shift your hips. Why did everything feel so delicious and mixed-up?

Bangchan kicked the door shut with his foot, the thud echoing in the quiet space like he was sealing in all the steamy tension. His eyes stayed glued to yours—dark, intense, and totally commanding—making you feel small and exposed, like a pretty little doll waiting to be played with. Strangely, it just made the wetness down there even more slippery and inviting. You were way wetter than a bimbo like you should be in this intense moment, but it felt so good anyway.

"Strip."

The word slipped from his lips, low and firm, like a tempting command wrapped in velvet. A shiver zipped down your spine, cold and thrilling, starting at your neck and zooming all the way to your cute little butt. Your breath hitched, the air thick and heavy with tension. You wondered, in your fuzzy head, how one simple word could make you all wobbly and turned on like this. It scared you a tiny bit, but mostly it just made you wanna melt and obey.

You bit your plump lower lip nervously, the glossy pink shine catching the dim light. Your fingers fiddled with the hem of your tiny dress, twisting the flouncy fabric like it could hide you from his gaze.

"C-Channie..." you whispered softly, your voice all sweet and shaky, like a little plea from a confused doll.

But the way he looked at you said it all—he wasn't playing around. His eyes were dark and intense, slowly trailing over your body like he was already picturing every inch of you bare and ready. That hungry stare sent a rush of heat straight between your legs. You could feel yourself getting even wetter, your lacy panties starting to cling to your sensitive skin, all sticky and warm. It made your fuzzy head spin. Why did his mean side always make you feel so tingly and needy?

Slowly, you reached for the thin straps of your dress. Your hands trembled a little, nails painted in that cute pastel pink you loved. You slipped the straps off your shoulders, and the soft fabric whispered down your curves, pooling at your feet like a forgotten secret. Now you stood there in just your lacy bra and tiny matching panties, the delicate material hugging your body perfectly. Your nipples were already hard, poking against the thin lace like they were begging for attention. The cool air of the penthouse brushed your bare skin, raising little goosebumps and making you shiver all over again. It felt so chilly and exciting on your soft, exposed curves.

You felt so exposed, so small and helpless, like a pretty toy in his big, fancy room. But the way Bangchan watched you—unblinking, commanding—made your whole body burn with desperate need. Your cheeks flushed a deep pink as you looked down at the floor, suddenly feeling all shy and dumb, even though you'd stripped for him tons of times before. Your mind went blank and fuzzy, just focusing on how hot and achy everything felt.

"Like this...?" you asked quietly, your voice breathy and a little spacey, like you weren't quite sure. You shifted on your feet, pressing your thighs together to ease the growing ache between them. The friction only made it worse, sending little sparks through your core. You hated how mean he was being tonight, it made you wanna pout and whine, but you couldn't stop the way your body reacted to his cold dominance. It left you feeling stupidly horny and desperate for his touch, like a bimbo who couldn't help but melt under his control. So confusing, right? But oh, it felt so intense and good in that ditzy way.

"I said strip, Y/N. Everything."

His voice was low and unwavering, a deep, commanding rumble that vibrated through the air, leaving no room for argument or pleas. A shiver coursed through you, tingling from your shoulders down to your painted toes, your skin alive with tiny sparks. Your cheeks burned brighter, matching that delicate shade of embarrassment, and you lifted your wide, glassy eyes to meet his—innocent and doll-like, unsure whether to obey or protest. Why did his harsh words make you feel so small yet oddly tingling with anticipation? It felt unfair, reducing you to this needy mess, your lacy panties already stickier with arousal and nerves.

You bit your plump lip again, shifting your weight on the cool floor, which only heightened your exposure. Part of you wanted to whimper and beg for mercy, but the heat building in your core refused, leaving you dazed and desperate, caught in his spell and unable to think clearly. With a deep, trembling breath, you reached for the waistband of your lace underwear. Your fingers fumbled slightly as you slid the delicate fabric down your hips, past your thighs, stepping out of it. The final barrier was gone—you stood completely bare, skin glowing softly in the dim light, body trembling with a mix of nervousness and desire, fully open and unguarded, ready for whatever came next.

"On the bed, doll. Face down, hands on your back, ass up."

A shiver ran down your spine at his commanding tone. Without hesitation, you moved to the bed, body trembling with anticipation. You settled onto your hands and knees, face down, backside slightly raised in surrender, hands resting on your lower back, ass high and fully exposed. A soft whimper escaped your lips as the cool air brushed your bare skin, sending waves of vulnerability through you. Your heart raced, every nerve heightened, feeling small and open yet strangely liberated in your raw state. Your breath hitched as you waited, the whimper lingering in the quiet, echoing your nervousness and longing.

You heard the distinct sound of him unbuckling his belt, and another shiver raced down your spine. Your eyes fluttered shut, lips pressed into a thin line as you tried to steady your breathing. The bed shifted slightly with his presence beside you, the room heavy with anticipation, silence broken only by your quickened breaths. You could feel his gaze on you, the tension thickening. Then, suddenly, his hand landed firmly on your ass, making you tense and nearly lose your balance.

"Stay still," he said firmly. "I didn't tell you you can move."

Your heart pounded, but you nodded softly, body frozen and muscles tight, waiting in nervous anticipation for what was to come. Every breath and heartbeat felt amplified in the quiet room, eager yet anxious about what would unfold.

The next thing you felt was the harsh smack of the belt on your ass cheeks. The sting was immediate and sharp, making you gasp softly. The sound echoed in the room, a stark contrast to the silence just moments before. You clenched your fists, toes curling involuntarily as the pain radiated across your skin.

He delivered another smack, firmer this time, and you couldn't help but let out a small, trembling moan. The sensation was overwhelming, a mixture of pain and exhilaration. 

"You still don't understand what you did wrong, doll, do you?" Bangchan asked, his voice a low, teasing cadence. His free hand traced the areas where his belt had left its mark, fingers lingering on the reddened skin as if savoring the memory of the sensation. 

All you could do was sob softly, tears slipping down your cheeks, your body trembling—not just from fear, but from something more complicated, a strange, unintended arousal that made your heart race. 

That response only seemed to ignite his anger and frustration further, his eyes narrowing as a flicker of something darker passed through them. Without warning, he yanked your head up by your hair, forcing you to look at him. His grip was firm, commanding, yet there was a flicker of something else in his gaze—perhaps a hint of curiosity or frustration at his own reaction. 

"Answer me when I'm talking to you," he growled, his voice thick with a mixture of authority.

"I—I don't know—I'm sorry. Channie, please—" you sobbed, your voice trembling with a desperate edge, pleading for his touch. Your teeth tugged at your lower lip, pink gloss smudged across your face as you locked eyes with him, knowing a single glance away would only fuel his frustration. Every ragged breath fueled a burning craving, your body trembling not from fear, but from an intense need that made your heart pound.

Bangchan raised an eyebrow, his gaze glinting as it flicked over your contorted expression—a mix of pleasure and pain he couldn't quite separate. "Are you sure? You don't know?" he murmured, low and teasing, tugging your hair back with a sharp sting. "Think. Use that stupid head of yours." A smirk curled his lips, savoring your desperation and the way your body arched toward him, blurring the line between control and chaos.

You shut your eyes tightly, but all you could focus on was his grip, the world spinning behind your lids. "I—" you started, words faltering in the haze.

"You what?" he taunted, leaning in with a wicked smile. "Come on, think harder. Or is your head too foggy to remember?" He tugged again, insistent, pushing you deeper into the tangle of thoughts and sensations. "You can’t even recall what you did, can you?"

Tears welled as a choked sob escaped. "I disobeyed you," you whispered brokenly. "I went out alone... got drunk... and flirted."

His eyes darkened, but the teasing smile lingered. "Flirted? That’s just you. But letting another man put his hands on what’s mine? That’s a whole different fucking story." He exhaled sharply, leaning close to your ear, lips brushing your skin as he inhaled your sweet cologne. His body heat pressed against you, igniting something primal. "You are mine. Do you hear me?" His voice was husky, possessive, a vow whispered like fire.

Before you could respond, his fingers thrust inside you—hard, urgent, stealing your breath. Your body trembled instinctively, a gasp ripping from your lips. "This," he hissed, curling his fingers slowly, deliberately, "is mine. No one else gets you this wet. No one else makes you drip like this."

Your mouth hung open as he moved agonizingly slow, teasing every sensitive spot. Your hands shot up to grab his wrist, anchoring yourself while your walls fluttered desperately around him, slick sounds mingling with your uncontrollable whines. "Channie—please..." you gasped, voice raw with need.

"Please what?" he taunted, pulling back slightly, eyes twinkling with dominance. Without warning, he sped up, deep and relentless, making you shudder. "You think you deserve more than my fingers after what you pulled tonight?"

Before you could answer he sped up, fucking you harder, deeper, relentless. Your head dropped to the mattress, fingers twisting in the sheets as you fought the rising pressure. "And you're not cumming until I say so. Hear me, doll?"

You babbled incoherently, nodding eagerly, brows furrowed in desperation as you bit your lip to stifle cries. But restraint shattered when he curled his fingers upward, hitting that perfect spot. Your body jerked, legs clenching, a loud cry escaping: "Channie! Oh—!"

"What? Already?" he whispered teasingly, tightening his grip on your hair. "We haven't even been here for long, doll. Hold it in. I want to hear you beg."

"I—I can't—please—" you cried, head dropping to the mattress, fists clutching the sheets to muffle your moans.

"You can, and you will," he commanded softly, possessive yet gentle. "You're a good girl—you'll do what I say this time." His free hand traced down your side, cupping your ass before delivering a firm smack, the sting heightening everything before it wrapped around your neck, squeezing just enough to make you tingle.

"Open your mouth," he whispered, nuzzling your cheek, breath warm against your skin. You obeyed, trembling, and dizziness hit as he spat into your mouth. Your body tensed, the wave crashing over you relentlessly, walls clamping down hard, moans echoing through the penthouse as your orgasm overwhelmed you.

"Ah..." he hummed, disappointment lacing his tone as he pulled back slowly. "Told you to hold it in, didn't I?" His fingers didn't relent, curling deeper into your slick, pulsing heat, thrusting with unyielding force to exploit your sensitivity after that mind blowing orgasm. Every plunge stretched your oversensitive walls, slick with your arousal, sending electric jolts through your core as you squirmed, thighs clenching futilely around his hand.

"Then I guess you can give me one more," he murmured, a sly smirk curling his lips. "Since you've been so disobedient."

A throaty moan tore from your throat, your head lolling to the side as your body convulsed from the raw overstimulation, inner muscles spasming wildly around his invading fingers, each thrust amplifying the wet, obscene squelch of your dripping arousal.

"G-gonna cum again. Channie, please—I can't—" you gasped, voice fracturing as your clit throbbed under the relentless pressure, nerves screaming from the exquisite torment.

His eyes darkened with desire, hands gripping your hips firmly yet gently, guiding you through the building peak. "Go on, sweet girl. Let it all out. Come for me," he whispered huskily, forehead pressing to yours, breaths mingling in shared heat.

A shudder ripped through you as the second orgasm hit—stronger, more intense. Your walls clamped down vise-like on his fingers, gushing hot fluids that soaked his hand and the sheets beneath, your body arching in uncontrollable spasms as ecstasy flooded every inch, from your clenching core to your curling toes.

"There we go. Such a good girl," he murmured, satisfied, watching your slick release coat his skin. His praises unraveled you completely, tears streaming down your cheeks from the sheer intensity.

"Shhh," he cooed, caressing your back as you collapsed onto the bed, still trembling—your pussy fluttering with aftershocks around his withdrawing fingers, leaving a trail of glistening wetness. "I'm sorry, baby. Did I go too far?" His voice was tender, free hand tracing soothing circles over your flushed skin.

It took a few minutes for the aftershocks to fade, your eyes dazed as you stared at the ceiling, breaths ragged. When he whispered your name.

"Pretty girl?" you turned to him instantly, tears spilling anew. "I—I'm sorry," you choked out, voice thick with regret and exhaustion. "I didn't mean to..."

"Hey, deep breaths, baby doll," he soothed, cupping your face gently. "I'm not mad anymore. You did amazing, and I just want you to know that. But next time, I need you to listen to me and be a little more obedient, okay? I want us to be in sync, to trust each other completely."

He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, fingers weaving through your hair. "I didn't ask you to stay here to cage you. I hope you know that. It's just not safe for someone as naive as you out there."

You bit your lip, nodding slowly. "Will you please listen to me next time?"

Another nod, softer this time.

"There's my good girl," he murmured. "Now, what do you want? Rest?"

"Cuddle, please?" you whispered hesitantly.

Without a word, he pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you in a warm, protective embrace. You rested your head on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat as his fingers stroked your hair. Tension melted away in the quiet warmth, replaced by peaceful solace. In that gentle hold, everything felt just right.

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