SITRI

The stadium is sweltering hot, the crowd is screeching between innings, and if one more guy spills beer on you, you might actually lose it. You usually love baseball games, and have so much fun shouting for your favorite team and eyeballing the hot players in their tight pants. Usually.

Maybe you just haven’t had enough to drink. There’s no reason you shouldn’t be having fun with your friends, leaning into them and whispering about the game, or more commonly, the players you have a massive crush on.

Or maybe you’re sitting there thinking about your date from last night, the guy who talked way too much and didn’t ask a single question about you. You didn’t even want to go, he was a friend of a friend, and you owed her a favor, and he was kind of cute, so you figured, why not? Big mistake.

You haven’t sworn off dating, but your recent string of bad dates has become particularly exhausting. You love your friends, but there’s a part of you that wants to go to these games with somebody else. A partner. Preferably in a romantic capacity. 

There’s a group of guys on the right of you, and Mina keeps leaning forward, trying to make jokes with them. They laugh and joke back, and you try your best to laugh and play along. You catch a few of their faces when you glance over, and Jesus fuck, they’re all good-looking.

Your friends are on the other side of you, definitely drunk, and having the time of their lives. You resort to actually watching the game, trying to focus on something to drown out the chaos around you. A batter on the other team strikes out, so terribly that you almost feel bad for them.

“Ouch…that’s embarrassing," you mutter under your breath.

“It’s one strikeout,” a voice from next to you says, almost annoyed. “There’s plenty of game left to play.”

You whip your head to see the man sitting next to you, smirking as he sips his beer. There’s a Giants hat on his head, which makes you laugh. They’re losing pretty badly right now.

“Giants fan?” you ask, as if it isn’t obvious.

“I take it you’re not,” he observes.

“I don’t really have a favorite,” you say honestly. “But there’s at least 5 more teams I’d pick before the Giants.”

He scoffs at that, but you catch a faint hint of a smile as he turns back to watch the game. He’s really, really handsome. You turn to your friends to hide your smile as you sip your drink. 

You make snide comments as the game goes on, and he dishes them right back at you. One of the players on your team drops a ball, and you let out a groan.

“That’s your guy?” the man whispers next to you. 

“Hush,” you say back, because it’s the only thing you can think of without making prolonged eye contact and stuttering over your words. You try to hide your smirk but can’t deny the flirty edge that the conversation has. 

You’re only half listening to Sana drone on about how she hates her new boss when the giant screen above you flashes pink. Bold words appear on screen.

KISS CAM.

The camera bounces around from couple to couple, a series of cheers echoing throughout the crowd. Sometimes it’s cute, like when the people on screen are obviously dating, but half the time it looks so awkward when random strangers pucker up just because of a little attention from the camera.

It takes a second to register when your face pops up on the screen.

Your face. And the man next to you. The man you met today, the man whose name you don’t even know.

“Do it!” you hear your friends laughing beside you, egging you on.

You turn and see his friends doing the same, patting him on the back and hollering at him. You make eye contact with him and can’t help but laugh. 

You give him a shrug. “Why not?” you say. It’s harmless. Plus, he’s stupid hot, and you’d be dumb to turn down a kiss from a hot stranger, even if it is in front of thousands of people.

“Ah, what the hell.” He sighs, smiling, and leans forward.

Your lips connect, and you hear the crowd erupt around you. You feel the sound vibrate through your seat more than you can hear it. His lips are so warm and soft, and everything fades away for a moment. It’s tender, surprisingly so. 

You break the kiss first after a few seconds. Four seconds? Or ten? You lost count, honestly. You pull back in time to see his eyes flutter open. He smiles at you, warm and genuine. God, he is really handsome.

The crackle of the announcer over the loudspeakers catches your attention, and you remember where you are all at once. You feel your chest tighten, suddenly very aware of what had just transpired.

“I’m Seungmin,” he says, and you snap out of the panic you were about to enter. 

You introduce yourself. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“That’s one hell of an icebreaker,” he jokes. You both laugh, turning your eyes towards the field before the embarrassment sets in again.

You find it increasingly hard to keep your eyes off Seungmin as the game continues. He bumps your elbow every time he leaps out of his seat to cheer on his team, and you have to pretend you don’t notice. You smell his cologne when he leans in too close to make a snide comment, and you have to roll your eyes to avoid making eye contact with him. Trying to act cool, like he doesn’t do anything to you, is pure torture.

The game ends 6-5. You didn’t pay too much attention to the score, just enough to tease Seungmin when the Giants slipped behind. It didn’t matter though, they ended up pulling through and winning tonight.

“I never doubted them for a second,” he says smugly.

“You probably should have,” you say back, laughing.

Your friends get up to leave, and you turn to follow them, collecting your empty drink cup as you walk out. Just then, you feel a tug on your wrist.

“Wait! Uh…can I get your number?” Seungmin asks, rubbing the back of his neck. 

Your eyes light up as you look back at him and nod. The two of you exchange numbers, ignoring the way both of your friend groups snicker and tease behind you, before going your separate ways. 

The whole walk back to the train, your friends talk about the day, their plans, and their lives, but you’re not really listening. It’s hard to when your mind is full of the handsome stranger you’d just met minutes ago. And you especially can’t stop thinking about the kiss.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Mina says, nudging your shoulder. 

You shrug your shoulders and turn to stare out the window. “Just tired. We had a long day.”

She doesn’t buy it, leaning closer into your space to get a better look at your face.

“Are you thinking about the Giants guy?” she says, definitely teasing you. You shoot her a glare and roll your eyes, but you feel your face grow warm and hope it doesn’t show.

You get home, you shower, eat some leftover pasta that’s been marinating in your fridge, and collapse into bed. By this point, you’ve mostly convinced yourself that today was a one-off. A funny story to bring up at dinner. “Remember that one time…” your friends will say. That’s just what happens. You meet someone fun at an event, and then life takes over.

But as soon as your head hits the pillow, your phone buzzes on the nightstand.

Unknown: giants won btw. in case you needed a reminder.

You roll your eyes before saving the contact and typing a reply, smiling to yourself like an idiot.

You: a whole text JUST to brag? Seungmin: just making sure you knew Y: I was THERE S: yeah but did you watch or were you distracted Y: no idea what you’re talking about S: mhm… Y: congrats on the win, don’t let it get to your head!

You find yourself checking your phone more than you’d like to admit over the next few days. Your heart skips a beat every time you get a notification on your phone. Sometimes, he says good morning and asks about your day. Sometimes he just sends a dumb meme with absolutely no context. Or provides commentary for whatever game is on that night. 

Today’s message from him starts differently than usual.

Seungmin: hypothetically You: hypothetically… S: if I needed a date for a wedding Y: okay… S: would you go with me? Y: what’s in it for me? S: you get to feel REALLY GOOD about yourself for doing a favor for little old me S: and a free trip to Jeju…

Your eyes go wide at that.

Y: it’s in JEJU!? S: yeah my cousin’s loaded or something Y: hypothetically it would be a yes S: okay great! S: another hypothetical… Y: mhm S: ….i told my mom i was bringing my girlfriend? Y: you have a girlfriend? S: NO no no i don’t have a girlfriend, that’s the problem Y: i see… S: so uh would you also hypothetically pretend to be my girlfriend? Y: you can’t tell your mom you were lying? S: it’s…complicated. i’d rather not be lectured or have her try and set me up with all of the bridesmaids

You’d also prefer that, but you don’t mention it.

Y: hmm…hypothetically one weekend wouldn’t kill me S: oh my god you’re a lifesaver Y: hypothetically? S: super not hypothetically. very realistically actually Y: okay fine. when is it? S: next weekend Y: you’re good at planning things S: please? Y: if i say yes too fast does it make me look like a loser for not having any plans already S: if you say yes too fast it makes you look like an absolute saint for saving my ass Y: would you look at that! i’m free

You close your eyes, excited for the upcoming weekend. But not too excited. That would be too obvious.

The airport is crowded and much too noisy for this early in the morning. Seungmin finds you easily, waving you down by the check-in counters. He’s taller than you remembered, cleaned up nicely, but definitely sleepy.

“Hi, stranger,” you say as you walk up to him. He greets you with a sleepy smile, and you notice how cute he looks bundled up in a hoodie and his tousled hair.

“Ready to lie to my whole family?” he says, laughing, like he can’t believe he’s about to do exactly that.

To be honest, you’re not sure. You hardly know this man, but if there’s a chance you continue seeing him, the last thing you want to do is put on a false persona or lie about your guys’ history.

By the time you settled into your seats, Seungmin insisted on getting the window seat, and you had a couple of hours to get your story straight.

“How long have we been dating?” you ask as the plane steadies after takeoff. 

“Sorry?”

“In your hypothetical world that you told your family about. How long have we been together? Where did we meet? We need to get our story straight!”

“Ahh okay. So, we’ve been together four months.”

“Specific, believable, I like it. How did we meet?”

“The truth. Baseball game kiss cam. I literally couldn’t make it up if I tried,” he laughs.

“Okay, fair.”

You talk about his family and what to expect for the rest of the flight. Every family has its drama, quirky relatives, and secrets. The flight wasn’t long enough to cover everything, but you feel confident you know who to avoid and who’s safe to talk to.

The plane lands, and you find yourself hoping they like you. Hoping that after all this, Seungmin still likes you too.

The hotel is massive, spewing bright neutral colors and modern accents. You’re still marveling at the lobby, looking at the ginormous chandelier above you, when Seungmin waves a keycard in front of your face.

“C’mon, I want to shower before dinner.”

And the room is just as nice as the lobby. It’s large, with a balcony facing the ocean attached. You’re high up enough where the noise from the street won’t bother you when you try to sleep, which you’re grateful for. The giant king bed sits in the center, surrounded by beautiful artwork.

Giant king bed.

One bed. Singular.

You set your stuff down, frowning at the arrangement. “It’s a little soon to share a bed, don’t you think?” You try to come off as playful, but your heart is beating faster at the thought of sleeping next to a man you hardly know.

“I know, I’m sorry. I should’ve mentioned that.” His apology is sincere, and you can tell this weekend is already stressing him out.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, I’m just joking. I guess they wouldn’t really have believed us if you asked for separate rooms anyway, right?”

He relaxes his shoulders at your comment, nodding in agreement and putting down his stuff. He disappears into the bathroom, and you take the time to flop down onto the bed.

Everything’s going to be fine. People share beds all the time. Sana has slept in your bed more times than you can count after a night out, and you’re perfectly fine with her crowding your space or snoring in your ear.

You’re still thinking about a thousand different ways this weekend could go wrong when Seungmin comes out of the bathroom, showered and dressed. 

“We have a couple of hours to kill. Wanna go for a walk?”

And so you slip your shoes back on and head back down to the lobby.

The fresh air feels nice and warm with a hint of sea salt. The two of you make your way down to the beach and start to walk along the shoreline. Seungmin kicks off his shoes and rolls up his pantlegs before heading closer to the water.

You follow suit, slipping off your sandals and skipping towards the water. You flick a bit of water up with your toes, and it lands on him.

“Hey!” he shouts, laughing, flicking it back at you. You squeal and run, holding your pants up to keep from dragging them through the water.

The wet sand sticks to your feet as you pretend to run, only getting a couple of yards away before two arms wrap around you to stop you in your tracks. Your shrieks turn into laughter as you twist in his grip, trying to get away. Your feet kick in the air as he lifts you a couple of inches off the ground. 

“Put me down!” you cry out. He carries you a couple of steps before putting you down. You playfully push him, both of you still laughing. You notice the wrinkles around his eyes as he smiles, and your heart swells with joy. Just joking around like this just feels so comfortable with him. 

The two of you keep walking down the beach, commenting on the beautiful view or the temperature of the water.

“Thank you for coming,” he says after a while. “I know it’s weird and we barely know each other and—”

“Seungmin.”

“Uh…yeah?”

“Hush. I’m having fun.”

He nods, shoving his hands in his pockets and keeps walking, and you watch his worried face disappear into a smile.

The sun starts to set before he suggests you head back to change into clothes for dinner. You agree, and he loosely wraps his arm around you as you walk back to the hotel.

The rehearsal dinner is held in a banquet room just off the hotel’s main lobby. The room is draped in white fabric and well lit, the kind of setup that would cost at least three or four times your rent. You hardly have any time to admire it before you’re shuffled through conversations, meeting Seungmin’s relatives.

“This is my girlfriend,” he says about a dozen times before you have to remind yourself that that’s not actually true. You feel your heart flutter every time a relative comments on how cute the two of you are, though.

His aunt whispers something in his ear that makes his ears go red. His uncle tries to get the two of you to take shots with him before Seungmin eventually whisks you away from the conversation.

There are a few toasts, most of which drone on forever, with Seungmin fidgeting in his seat. You want to ask if he’s okay, but you have a feeling that he isn’t up to talking about whatever family-related issues are causing his stress.

“Almost done, I promise,” he says low in your ear as he guides you to what you’re hoping is the last group of people.

There’s a woman in a long white dress, not quite a wedding dress, standing at the front of the room towards the podium, accompanied by a tall man in a suit. You’re guessing the bride and groom.

“Seungmin!” The bride says warmly. “I’m so glad you came!”

“Hi, Yuri. Congratulations.” His voice is flatter than you’ve ever heard it before.

“Cousin!” his cousin exclaims as he pats him on the back. Seungmin introduces him as Jiho, his mother’s sister’s son.

“You must be the girlfriend! I’ve heard about you,” Yuri says. She flicks her eyes up and down, as if she’s assessing you. You’ve gotten it from most of his family members, but she’s been the most obvious one to do it tonight. Probably bride confidence, or one too many glasses of champagne.

“All good things, I hope,” you say, sipping on your glass of wine.

“We’ll let you get back to it,” Seungmin says quickly, leaving you almost no time to wish them a good evening before he guides you out of the room and to the elevators.

“Are you okay?” you ask. He’s noticeably stiffer, adjusting his clothes like they’re too uncomfortable now.

He makes eye contact with you and seems to realize that he’s sending a million different distress signals. “I’m fine, sorry. It’s just family stuff.”

You nod your head in understanding, not wanting to push it further. The elevator dings and you step into it, feeling the warmth of his hand on the small of your back.

“Do you think they suspected anything?” you ask as he unlocks the door to your room, trying to be lighthearted.

“Never, you did perfect,” he says, with a genuine smile you haven’t seen since earlier on the beach.

You sit on the bed, letting Seungmin use the bathroom to shower and change into pajamas first. This is possibly the strangest first date you’ve ever been on, if you can even call it that. You text your friends back, updating them on the day, and lock your phone before they can barrage you with questions you don’t feel like answering.

“All yours,” he says, stepping out of the steamy bathroom. He’s drying his damp hair with a towel, fully in his pjs, but he looks so handsome like this. You stop yourself from staring too hard before you take your turn getting unready from the day.

By the time you come out of the bathroom, Seungmin’s not in the room. You notice the balcony door is slightly open and see a figure standing outside, leaning against the rail. You slide the glass door open and join him outside.

“All good out here?” you ask.

“Yeah, just…thinking.”

“About?”

“I’m really glad you came with me.” He turns to look at you, sincerity written all over his face. He gently grabs your arm and pulls you in for a hug.

He smells so nice. You get a whiff of his shampoo mixed with his laundry detergent, but then catch something else underneath it all. It’s just Seungmin. A man you hardly know who has managed to weave his way through your every thought in just a few weeks.

You pull back a moment, offering a smile, and he tucks a damp strand of hair behind your ear. Your pulse quickens, the way it always does when he looks at you like that. 

“Can I…?” he starts, tipping his head down slightly, and you know what he’s asking.

You answer by closing the gap yourself.

It’s soft, much softer than the first. There’s no crowd counting down, no friends drunkenly cheering you on–just you and Seungmin, under the moonlight in a quiet moment. He wraps one arm around you to pull you tight against him, and you snake your hands around his neck to ground yourself. The ocean’s waves crash in the background faintly, and you feel the nerves from before fall away. It’s more comfortable than you were expecting, not that you were expecting anything.

When he finally pulls back, he keeps his forehead against yours. If he loosens his grip on you, you might fall over. You hope he doesn’t.

“Ready to lie to more people tomorrow?” he laughs sheepishly.

You laugh, kissing him again in response. If there’s something still unsaid between you, it can wait until tomorrow.

The morning is a bit of a blur. You get dressed and make your way over to the venue, a beautiful building that seems like it was made just for weddings. Seungmin is antsy the whole time, holding your hand through it all like letting go would mean certain death. The ceremony is beautiful, and you sit right beside him through it all. It’s been a lovely weekend being a plus one at a wedding for people you just met yesterday.

At the reception, you’re standing near the edge of the dance floor waiting for Seungmin to come back from the bar when Yuri comes over to you.

“Hi!” she says brightly.

“Congratulations again,” you say. “The ceremony was beautiful.” “Thank you so much.” She glances around, maybe looking for someone. “It must be so weird for you to be here.”

“Yeah, maybe a little,” you shrug. “I don’t know many people, but Seungmin’s been the best at introducing me to everyone.”

She takes a sip of her champagne. “You’re brave for showing up to your boyfriend’s ex-girlfriend’s wedding. I don’t know if I’d be able to handle it.”

Her voice replays in your head. Your boyfriend’s ex-girlfriend's wedding.

Your head tilts sideways, and your heart sinks to the floor. Maybe you misunderstood her. “Sorry, what?”

Yuri’s face flickers with surprise. “Oh, I’m sorry. He must not have told you…”

Your heart feels like it’s going to fall out of your ass. You excuse yourself, setting your glass on the nearest surface and high-tailing it out of there. You pass the bar on the way and catch Seungmin’s surprised face when you don’t stop.

The elevator doors close, and you realize how fast your heart is beating. Who cares if the bride is his ex-girlfriend? You certainly don’t have room to be jealous, he isn’t actually yours to be jealous over. Still, it would have been nice to get a heads-up.

You throw your shoes off when you get into the room and head straight for the balcony. Your stomach starts brewing something nasty, and you feel like you might throw up if you don’t get your breathing under control soon. The breeze feels nice against your face, and the ocean serves as calming white noise as you take deep breaths.

The balcony door opens behind you, and you hear slow footsteps behind you. You don’t turn around.

“You could have told me,” you say, trying not to cry.

“I know,” Seungmin says as he approaches the railing next to you. “I’m sorry.”

“Why? Why are you even here?”

“I’m here for my cousin, and my mother would have thrown a fit if I didn’t come.” You scoff. “But still, I should have told you. I just didn’t know how.”

You stay silent for a moment. “I get why you didn’t.” The words surprise you as they come out of your mouth. But it’s the truth. You do get it. “It still would’ve been nice to know.” “That’s fair. I really am sorry.”

You both fall quiet for a moment before you break the silence again. “She’s marrying your cousin?”

He laughs for a moment and nods his head. “Yeah. Like I said, family drama.”

“I’m really sorry, that’s a lot to handle.”

“It’s fine. It was years ago. We dated in college, they got together after we broke up. I’m pretty sure there was some overlap, but it doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Do you…,” you start to ask a question, but hesitate. You’re not afraid of the answer, per se. You’re afraid of the insecure girl bottled up deep inside, afraid that revealing her means showing your true feelings. Leaving everything out in the open, vulnerable. 

“Do you still love her?”

“No.” He answers quickly and without hesitation. It eases the butterflies in your stomach, but now he knows. He knows that you’d been thinking about it, that you care. 

You nod slowly, accepting his answer. He takes a step closer, grabbing a hold of your hand as it dangles by your side. The air on the balcony shifts as he takes a step closer, dragging his hand up your arm before resting it on your cheek.

“Let me show you.” It’s a request that you gladly accept with a nod as he leans in to kiss you. It’s gentle yet passionate, showing you he means what he says. 

He walks you backwards back into the hotel room, sliding the glass door behind you as he guides you back into the room. The lamp lights are on, and your shawl and heels are kicked to the corner as you try not to trip on them. The fan humming does little to mask the noise of your heavy breathing between kisses.

Seungmin’s hands are everywhere. Cupping your face, sliding down your neck, gripping your waist, making good on his word. He kisses you deeper, tongue sliding against yours as he backs you further into the room.

He guides you down gently on the bed, and you can feel how hard he is through his dress pants. It makes the heat between your thighs grow, your mind suddenly filled with nothing but want. He snakes a hand behind you to unzip your dress and pull it down.

“You look so beautiful tonight,” he says, kissing down your body. “I’m sorry I didn’t say it before. I’ve been thinking about this all day.”

You’re left in your lace bra and panties, and his mouth comes down hot against your body as he leaves open-mouthed kisses all the way down. His hands cup your breasts, and you let out a moan when his thumbs brush against your nipples.

“Seungmin, please,” you breathe out as you pull him closer.

He unhooks your bra and drops it to the floor. His mouth closes around your nipple, sucking and flicking his tongue around it. You tug at his hair in response, basking in the feeling.

Your hands fight with his shirt buttons as he crawls back up your body to kiss you again. He takes off his dress shirt and peels off his undershirt, exposing his lean torso. He looks so hot all disheveled like this.

You reach for his pants next. “Off,” you demand. He sheds the rest of his clothes quickly, cock springing free. It’s hard and bright red, already glistening at the tip. You reach down between you to give him a couple of strokes, and he lets out a deep moan at your touch.

He hooks his fingers into your panties and rips them off next, grabbing at your thighs to spread them wide. You’re soaked, you can feel it. He stares in awe.

“So fucking perfect,” he mutters before situating himself between your thighs.

He places a kiss on your inner thigh before dipping between your folds, licking at your entrance. He works his way around your sopping cunt, and you feel the heat in your belly grow.

“Fuck, that feels so good,” you moan as he moves to pay attention to your clit.

He hums against you in response, sending shockwaves through your whole body. He finds a rhythm that makes your head spin and your muscles tighten as you head barreling towards your peak.

“I’m gonna—fuck, Seungmin!” You cry out, hips bucking and shaking against him as you come in his mouth. Your body is trembling, and he slowly works you through your orgasm.

You pull him back up once your body stops shaking and taste yourself on his lips. You kiss him sloppily, not bothering to stop for a breath. “Need you, right now.”

He positions himself at your entrance, pausing for a breath. “Ready?” he asks. You nod, feeling like you’re going to explode if he waits another second.

He pushes in slowly, keeping eye contact with you the entire time. You feel the stretch inch by inch, feeling so perfectly full as he bottoms out. He drops his forehead against yours when he’s fully buried inside you.

“I could stay here all fucking night,” he moans. “You feel so fucking good already.”

“Seungmin, please move.”

He starts with slow, steady thrusts that quickly turn rough and passionate. The bed creaks below you in time with his movements. You wrap his legs around him, making him hit deep inside. You let your nails rake at his back, and he lets out a deep moan.

As soon as he angles his hips and hits the sensitive spot inside you, you’re seeing stars. His movements quicken, and the room is filled with the slapping of skin against skin. You feel the heat come back, about to bubble over once again.

One of his hands slips between you, thumb making circles around your clit in time with his thrusts. You feel your body squeeze around him, cunt pulsing, and your vision whites out.

“Holy shit, Seungmin!” you cry out his name over and over as he fucks you through another orgasm.

He follows moments later, the feeling of you clenching around his cock throwing him into his own orgasm. His hips stutter as he buries himself deep inside you, choking out your name as he comes. He collapses over you, and both of you try to catch your breath.

After a minute, he rolls over next to you and pulls you close, tracing circles on your back. Your skin is slick with sweat, and you feel sticky, but it all feels so right.

“Please stay,” he whispers against your hair. “After this weekend. I want to take you out. Properly.”

You nuzzle your face deeper into the crook of his neck. The balcony door is still cracked open, letting in a gentle breeze that cools your warm skin.

“I’d like that,” you say, looking up to give him a gentle kiss. 

It may have been a weird weekend, but you have no regrets. Not when it brought you here, on an island in the middle of the ocean, in the arms of a ridiculously dorky, handsome man.

a/n: thank you all so much for your support! sorry again if this feels rushed, i had so much fun writing it i've just been SO busy!!

permanent taglist: @11racha @jisuperboard @kloversung @sourtae @binniebb @b4echo @hanjinology @eyyyylucieeee @bbyyuuu @viisstrayy @starlostjisung @stryscribbles @miniseungkimcami @embobema @sssoulesss @awkwardlyshawna @fuzzylard @0omillo0 @jup-exe @jaziona92 @cassie264 @chikmentendies @inlovewithstraykids

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 what do you do when they're the ones who keep coming after you?

You weren't rude. When Jisung flashed that bright smile or when Minho looked at you with those sharp, teasing eyes, you let the conversations happen. You laughed at their jokes, answered their questions, and tried to keep things light.

You just never expected it would lead here.

The room felt too warm, the air thick with the sound of skin slapping against skin and low, broken moans. You sat frozen at the edge of the bed, eyes wide, heart hammering as you watched something no one on campus had ever seen.

Jisung was in complete control.

You'd always thought it was Minho who held the power between them. The way they acted in public, the way Minho's sharp tongue and confident stare seemed to lead everything, made it easy to assume he was the one calling the shots behind closed doors too.

You were so wrong.

Jisung had Minho pinned beneath him, wrists trapped high above the older boy's head with one strong hand. His hips snapped forward hard and deep, pounding into Minho with a steady, ruthless rhythm that made the bed creak. Minho's back arched off the mattress, a desperate groan slipping from his lips every time Jisung drove back in.

With his free hand, Jisung wrapped his fingers around Minho's leaking cock, stroking him in time with every powerful thrust. Wet, filthy sounds filled the room as precum dripped over Jisung's knuckles.

You bit down hard on your lower lip, your throat suddenly dry. Heat pooled low in your belly as you watched Jisung dominate the usually cocky, composed Minho so completely. Minho's usual sharp gaze was gone, replaced by glassy, half-lidded eyes and flushed cheeks. His lips parted on a shaky moan, body trembling under Jisung's relentless pace.This was the side of them no one else knew.

And now... you were seeing it all.

Jisung's dark eyes suddenly flicked up and locked onto yours.

Even as he kept fucking Minho with deep, punishing thrusts, that wicked smirk slowly spread across his lips. His hips never faltered. The wet slap of skin against skin continued, steady and filthy. His hand kept pumping Minho's throbbing cock, thumb teasing over the slick head, spreading the mess of precum with every stroke.

Minho let out a broken whine beneath him, hips twitching helplessly, but Jisung didn't even glance down. His gaze stayed glued to you, burning with heat and amusement.

"What are you watching so intently, baby?" he asked, voice low and teasing, slightly rough from exertion. Another hard thrust made Minho moan louder, but Jisung just grinned wider. "You've been sitting there biting that pretty lip the whole time."

He gave a particularly deep roll of his hips, making Minho's back arch sharply off the bed. A shaky gasp escaped the older boy, but Jisung still didn't look away from you.

"Why are you so far away?" Jisung continued, cocky and breathless. His fingers tightened around Minho's wrists as he pounded into him harder, the bed creaking under them. "Don't you want to come closer? Don't tell me you're just gonna sit there and watch when you could be right here... touching... tasting... letting us make you feel good too."

His smirk deepened, eyes darkening as he took in your flushed face and nervous posture.

"Come on, sweetheart. Don't be shy. Move closer. Join us."

Minho's hazy, pleasure-drunk eyes managed to find you too. His lips parted on another moan, voice wrecked as he breathed out, "Yeah... come here..."

The air felt even thicker now, heavy with the scent of sex and the sound of their bodies moving together. Your heart raced wildly in your chest as Jisung kept staring at you, never slowing down, waiting for you to decide.

Your hand started moving with more confidence, stroking Minho's thick, leaking cock from base to tip in slow, steady pumps. Your fingers squeezed gently around the swollen head on every upstroke, spreading the slick precum that kept dripping out. Minho moaned louder, his hips twitching up into your fist, chasing the pleasure you were giving him.

Softly, almost shyly, you called out, "Ji..."

Jisung's dark eyes immediately flicked back to you. That wicked smirk still played on his lips, but his gaze softened with heat when he saw the way you were looking at him.

The second your eyes met, you leaned in closer. Your free hand reached up to cup his jaw as you pressed your lips against his in a tentative, hungry kiss.

Jisung groaned into your mouth, the sound low and rough. He kissed you back instantly, deep and possessive, his tongue sliding against yours while he never stopped thrusting into Minho. His hips kept that steady, filthy rhythm, pounding deep into the older boy with every wet slap of skin.

Your hand never stopped moving on Minho's cock either, stroking him faster now, twisting lightly at the tip just like Jisung had shown you. Minho whimpered beneath the both of you, his body trembling between Jisung's relentless thrusts and your eager hand.

Jisung pulled back just enough to nip at your lower lip, breathing hot against your mouth. "Fuck... that's it, baby," he murmured, voice thick with lust. "Keep stroking him just like that."

He captured your lips again, harder this time, tongue exploring your mouth as the three of you moved together, your hand pumping Minho's throbbing length, Jisung fucking him deep and steady, and your lips locked with Jisung's in a messy, heated kiss.

The room felt impossibly hot, filled with the sounds of moans, wet skin, and heavy breathing. You were right in the middle of it now, and it felt dangerously good.

Jisung's tongue moved hot and deep against yours, kissing you like he couldn't get enough. Right underneath you both, Minho stared up with wide, glassy eyes, completely lost in the sight of you two making out.

"Mmhh... Jisung-ah..." Minho whined softly, voice breathy and needy. "You two look so pretty kissing like that...  It's making me so hard..."

His words came out all shaky and enamored, hips twitching helplessly as he watched your lips slide together, tongues teasing. He looked completely gone, cheeks flushed dark red.

You felt a rush of confidence and doubled down on your hand, stroking Minho's throbbing cock faster, squeezing tighter around the swollen head, letting your thumb rub over the slick tip on every pass.

"Ahh—!" Minho let out a high, whiny moan, his whole body jerking. "Fuck... that feels so good... don't stop, please—" His hole suddenly clenched hard around Jisung's cock, pulsing tight and greedy.Jisung groaned loudly, breaking the kiss just enough to look down at him.

"Shit, Hyung... you're squeezing me so fucking tight," he growled, voice rough with pleasure. He slammed his hips forward harder, driving deep into Minho with every thrust. "All because she's jerking you off so nicely, huh? Such a greedy little hyung..."

Minho whimpered pathetically, eyes fluttering as another broken moan spilled from his lips. "Jisung-ah... it's too much... feels too good..." His voice cracked into a whine, body trembling between Jisung's relentless pounding and your eager hand flying over his leaking cock.

You kept kissing Jisung again, tongues tangled, while your fist pumped Minho faster, the wet, filthy sounds filling the room. Minho kept whimpering and moaning beneath you both, completely lost in the pleasure you and Jisung were giving him.

Minho started squirming beneath you both, his hips twitching uncontrollably as pleasure built higher and higher inside him.

"Ahh— Jisung-ah..." he whined, voice high and shaky. His wrists flexed uselessly against Jisung's firm grip, but he couldn't break free. "It's coming... I think I'm gonna— mmph— I'm getting close..."

His body twisted and arched, legs trembling as he tried to push up into your stroking hand and back onto Jisung's cock at the same time. He looked so desperate, flushed and sweaty, eyes half-closed and glassy with need.You didn't slow down. Your hand kept pumping his throbbing, leaking cock faster, slick sounds growing louder and wetter with every stroke. Jisung kept thrusting deep and steady into him, never missing a beat.

Minho let out another broken whimper, his back bowing off the bed. "Please... it feels too good... I can't— I can't hold it..." His thighs shook, hole pulsing rhythmically around Jisung's cock as his orgasm crept closer. Precum spilled messily over your fingers, making every stroke even smoother and filthier.He kept squirming and writhing between the two of you, soft needy sounds spilling from his lips nonstop. "Jisung-ah... baby... your hand— ahh! Don't stop... please don't stop..."

Minho kept squirming and whining underneath you, his body twisting desperately as his orgasm crept closer. You couldn't resist anymore.You pulled away from Jisung's lips and turned your full attention to Minho. Without a word, you leaned down and pressed your mouth against his, shutting him up mid-whimper with a deep, hungry kiss.

Minho moaned loudly into your mouth, the sound vibrating against your lips. His eyes fluttered shut as he kissed you back eagerly, tongue sliding messily against yours. He tasted sweet and desperate, every little whimper and gasp spilling straight into the kiss.

Your hand never stopped moving, stroking his throbbing, leaking cock faster and tighter, thumb rubbing over the slick head with every pass. At the same time, Jisung kept pounding into him with deep, powerful thrusts, driving him closer and closer to the edge.

Between your eager hand and Jisung's relentless cock, Minho was completely lost.

He squirmed harder beneath you, hips bucking wildly as pleasure crashed through him. His kiss turned sloppy and needy, soft whiny sounds escaping into your mouth with every thrust and stroke.Jisung groaned above you both, still gripping Minho's wrists tight. "That's it, Hyung... let her kiss you while we make you cum. You're so close, aren't you?"

Minho could only moan helplessly against your lips, his body trembling violently. His hole clenched tight around Jisung's cock as his orgasm finally hit.

With a broken, muffled cry into your kiss, Minho came hard.

His cock pulsed and throbbed in your hand, shooting thick, hot ropes of cum over your fingers and across his own stomach. His whole body shook and arched, legs quivering as wave after wave of bliss washed over him. He kept kissing you through it, desperate and sloppy, whimpering softly every time another spurt spilled out.

Jisung didn't stop thrusting, drawing out every bit of Minho's orgasm while you kept stroking him gently, milking every last drop.

Minho was still trembling beneath you, lips parted and breathing hard against yours as the last waves of his orgasm faded. His cum coated your fingers and painted messy streaks across his flushed stomach.

But Jisung didn't stop.

His hips kept moving, thrusting deep and steady into Minho's tight, clenching heat. The wet, filthy sound of skin slapping against skin grew louder as Jisung chased his own release, never slowing down even as Minho whimpered softly from the overstimulation.

"Hyung... fuck, you feel so good," Jisung groaned, voice rough and low. His grip on Minho's wrists tightened as he drove in harder, hips snapping forward with purpose. "Gonna fill you up... gonna cum so deep inside you."

Minho let out a shaky, whiny moan, still dazed from his own climax. His hole fluttered weakly around Jisung's thick cock, squeezing him with every thrust.

You stayed close, one hand gently stroking Minho's softening cock while you watched Jisung's face twist with pleasure. His eyes were dark, focused, lips parted as heavy breaths escaped him. A few more powerful thrusts and Jisung's rhythm started to falter. His hips stuttered, pressing deep as he buried himself to the hilt inside Minho.

With a low, broken groan, Jisung came.

His cock pulsed hard inside Minho, spilling thick, hot ropes of cum deep into him. He kept grinding slowly, pushing every drop as far as it would go, hips twitching with each wave of pleasure. A deep, satisfied moan rumbled in his chest as he filled Minho completely, claiming him in the most intimate way.

Only when the last spurts finally faded did Jisung's movements slow. He stayed buried inside Minho for a long moment, breathing heavily, sweat glistening on his skin.

Minho whimpered softly beneath the both of you, voice weak and wrecked.

"Jisung-ah... so full... I can feel you..."Jisung leaned down, pressing a lazy kiss to Minho's forehead, then turned his head to look at you with that familiar cocky smirk, eyes still hazy with pleasure.

"Your turn next, baby," he murmured, voice dripping with promise.

Jisung stayed buried deep inside Minho for a few more seconds, savoring the warm, slick heat around his cock. Slowly, he pulled out with a wet sound, a thick trail of his cum leaking from Minho's used hole.He finally released Minho's wrists and leaned down, brushing a soft kiss against the older boy's sweaty forehead.

Minho let out a soft, tired whimper, still catching his breath, his body limp and glowing with aftershocks.Jisung turned his head to look at you, that familiar cocky smirk returning to his lips, eyes dark and hungry.

"Hyung," he said, still looking at you but speaking to Minho, "you've been such a good boy tonight. Do you want a reward?"

Minho's glassy eyes fluttered open, a weak but eager nod following his words. "Yes... please..."

Jisung's smirk widened. He ran a gentle hand through Minho's damp hair before asking softly, "Do you want to eat her out? Since you were so good for both of us... you can taste her while I watch."

Minho's breath hitched. Even in his blissed-out state, a spark of desire lit up in his eyes. He turned his head toward you, cheeks still flushed, voice coming out shy and whiny.

"Can I...? Please... I want to taste you... I'll be good... I'll make you feel really good too..."

He looked up at you with those pleading, subby eyes, lips slightly parted, clearly still floating from his orgasm but already excited at the idea of pleasing you next

Jisung's eyes darkened as he looked at you still half-dressed. "Can't have Hyung tasting you properly with these clothes in the way," he murmured against your ear, voice low and teasing.

His hands moved slowly, helping you out of your top first. Strong fingers slid under the fabric, lifting it up and over your head. Cool air kissed your bare skin as he tossed it aside. Next, he reached around to unhook your bra, letting it fall away so your breasts were fully exposed. His palms brushed over them lightly, thumbs grazing your nipples just enough to make you shiver.

"Beautiful," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder.

Then his hands moved lower. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your bottoms and panties together, guiding them down your hips and thighs. You lifted your hips to help him, and he pulled everything off in one smooth motion, leaving you completely naked.

Jisung hummed in approval, his warm hands roaming over your newly bare skin. "There we go... all pretty and bare for us."

Jisung shifted higher on the bed, leaning back against the headboard with a lazy, satisfied grin. He reached for you, strong hands guiding you gently but firmly until your back rested against his warm, broad chest. You settled between his spread legs, feeling the heat of his skin and the steady beat of his heart against your back.

"Comfortable, baby?" he murmured close to your ear, voice still rough from earlier.Before you could answer, one of his arms slid under your knee and lifted your leg up and outward, opening you wide for Minho. The new position left you completely exposed, your glistening pussy on full display. Cool air brushed over your sensitive skin, making you shiver.

Minho's eyes darkened with fresh hunger as he crawled between your spread thighs. He looked beautifully wrecked, flushed cheeks, messy hair, and a trail of Jisung's cum still slowly leaking from his hole. But the way he stared at your core was pure need.

"Can I...?" Minho asked softly, voice whiny and eager. His hands rested lightly on your inner thighs, thumbs brushing teasingly close but not quite touching. "Please... I want to taste you so bad."

Jisung chuckled low behind you, his free hand stroking soothing circles on your stomach while the other kept your leg held high and open.

"Go ahead, Hyung," Jisung said, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your neck. "She's been so patient watching us. Make her feel good with that pretty mouth. Show her how grateful you are for letting you cum so hard earlier."

Minho let out a soft, needy sound and leaned in. His warm breath ghosted over your wet folds first, making your hips twitch. Then his tongue, hot, soft, and eager, dragged slowly from your entrance up to your clit in one long, thorough lick.

A quiet moan escaped your lips as Minho started licking you properly, slow and messy at first, then growing more confident. He moaned against your pussy like he was the one being pleasured, the vibrations sending sparks through your body.

Jisung held you securely against his chest, keeping your leg lifted nice and high so Minho had full access. His lips brushed your ear as he whispered, "That's it... just relax and let Hyung eat you out. He's gonna take such good care of you."

Minho's tongue circled your clit, then dipped down to push inside you, lapping up your wetness with soft, desperate whimpers. He looked completely lost between your legs, subby, eager, and so fucking hungry for your taste.

Minho's hot tongue kept working between your folds, licking slow and messy, savoring every drop of your wetness. Soft, needy whimpers vibrated against your pussy as he ate you out like he was starving for you.

The pleasure quickly became too much to stay still.

Your hand shot down, fingers threading through Minho's soft hair. You grabbed a fistful and pushed his head harder against your dripping core, grinding your hips forward desperately against his face.

"Ahh..." you moaned, the sound slipping out breathy and needy.

Minho moaned loudly into your pussy, the sound muffled and filthy. His eyes fluttered shut in bliss as you used his mouth, his tongue pressing flatter and licking faster to match your movements.

"Mmm— fuck..." you gasped, hips rolling again, chasing the delicious friction.

"That's it, baby," Jisung groaned behind you, his voice thick with arousal. One arm still held your leg high and spread wide, keeping you completely open for Minho. His other hand stroked your stomach soothingly while he watched. "Grind on Hyung's face. Use him. He loves it."

Minho whimpered even louder, the vibration shooting straight through your clit. He was getting messier now, tongue flicking rapidly over your swollen nub, then dipping down to push inside you, lapping eagerly at your entrance. His nose bumped against your clit with every grind of your hips, coating his cheeks and chin with your slick.

"Oh god... yes—" you moaned louder, fingers tightening in Minho's hair as you pulled him even closer. You rocked harder against his face, wet, obscene sounds filling the room as you rode his tongue.

"Ahh— Minho..." The pleasure spiked sharply, making your voice break into another moan.Jisung pressed a hot kiss to the side of your neck, whispering roughly, "Fuck, look at you... riding Hyung's face so pretty. He's such a good boy, isn't he? Letting you fuck his tongue like this."

Your moans kept spilling out between shaky breaths, soft at first, then louder and needier as you ground down harder, completely lost in the feeling of Minho's eager mouth working you closer and closer to the edge.

Jisung kept your jaw firmly in his grip, forcing you to look up at him while your body trembled against his chest. Your eyes were glassy and unfocused, mouth hanging open as soft, desperate moans kept spilling out.

“Ji— ” you gasped, voice shaky and broken. “Ji— ‘m cumming—!”

The moment the words left your lips, Minho’s eyes flashed with hunger. He let out a needy, whiny moan against your pussy and immediately changed what he was doing.

His tongue stopped teasing your clit and pushed straight inside you instead. Hot, wet, and eager. He started tongue-fucking you hard, sliding in and out of your dripping hole with fast, desperate strokes. His nose pressed firmly against your swollen clit, rubbing it with every thrust of his tongue.

“Ahh— fuck— Minho!” you cried out, hips jerking wildly against his face.

Minho moaned loudly into you, the sound vibrating deep inside your core as he fucked you with his tongue even faster. He was completely lost between your legs, whimpering and slurping messily, drinking up every drop of your wetness while pushing you over the edge.

Your whole body tensed against Jisung’s chest. Your eyes rolled back again, lashes fluttering wildly against your cheeks as the orgasm hit you hard.

With a loud, broken moan, you came.

Your pussy clenched and gushed around Minho’s tongue, hot slick flooding his mouth and coating his chin and cheeks. You squirted messily onto his face, hips grinding uncontrollably as wave after wave of intense pleasure ripped through you. Minho kept tongue-fucking you through it, greedily lapping up every drop, moaning like he was the one cumming.Jisung watched everything with dark, hungry eyes. A deep, guttural groan tore from his throat, low and rough, almost like he was cumming himself. His chest vibrated against your back as he groaned again, louder this time, the sound thick with raw lust.

“Fuck… look at you,” he groaned, voice strained and breathless, as if the sight of you squirting all over Minho’s face was pushing him close to the edge too. “So fucking pretty when you cum… making such a messy, wet little mess on Hyung’s face.”

His grip on your jaw tightened slightly, thumb brushing over your parted lips while another deep groan rumbled out of him. He sounded completely wrecked just from watching you fall apart.

Minho stayed latched between your thighs, happily drinking every drop you gave him, soft whimpers mixing with your cries and Jisung’s heavy groans.

Your body shook violently in Jisung’s arms, soft broken moans still spilling from your lips as the last waves of your orgasm washed over you.

Jisung’s deep, guttural groans slowly faded as your body finally stopped shaking in his arms. Minho stayed between your thighs for a little longer, gently licking you clean with soft, lazy strokes until every last drop was gone. His face was shiny and messy with your cum, but he looked blissfully happy.

You melted completely against Jisung’s chest, breathing hard, eyelids heavy. Jisung pressed soft kisses along your neck and shoulder, murmuring praises while Minho crawled up the bed and curled against your side.

The three of you stayed tangled together for the rest of the night.

They took care of you so gently, wiping you down with warm towels, bringing you water, and wrapping you in soft blankets between their warm bodies. Soft kisses, quiet whispers, and lazy touches filled the hours. Minho kept nuzzling into your neck with sleepy little whines, while Jisung held you close, stroking your hair until you drifted off.

You fell asleep safely sandwiched between them, warm and satisfied.

——

The next morning, you quietly slipped out of the frat house and headed home, legs still a little shaky from the night before. Your body felt deliciously sore in the best way.

But the moment you stepped inside the house, you froze.

Chris was waiting in the living room, arms crossed over his chest, looking every bit like the overprotective big brother he always acted as. His eyes narrowed the second he saw you.

“Where have you been?” he asked, voice tight.

He let out a slow breath and held up his phone, the screen showing the messages.

“Minho and Jisung have been texting me nonstop since this morning. Both of them asking for your number. Saying they had a ‘great time’ with you last night and want to keep talking to you.” Chris stepped closer, his eyes locked on yours with clear worry mixed with sternness.

“I’ve told you before, stay away from my members. Especially those two. I know exactly how they are, and I don’t want you getting mixed up in that.” His tone stayed firm, protective. “You’re family. You’re like my little sister. I’m not letting them treat you like one of their usual hookups.”

He paused, searching your face carefully.

“So tell me the truth. What the fuck happened between you and them last night?”

Uh-oh, well there goes your having fun from last night.

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this might be the hottest thing you've ever seen.

You are perched on the edge of the mattress, breath coming in short, jagged hitches as you watch Minho drive into Jisung so meanly.

The room is thick with the scent of sex and salt, the mid July summer air feeling heavy and humid against your skin.

Minho has Jisung pinned face down on the mattress, his large hands gripping Jisung’s hips to anchor him. The bedframe giving a metallic creeaaaak whenever Minho drives back into jisung with a hard thrust that echoes the wet, slapping sound of their bodies colliding.

and Jisung is a complete mess right now.

His fingers are clawing into the sheets, twisting the fabric between his fingers as he tries to find some kind - any - of leverage. His head is tossed back, mouth hanging open and drooling. leaking desperate, incoherent pleas that make your own cunt throb.

The sight of them connected has you trembling.

You can't stop your hand from sliding down. You are already sopping wet, your panties clinging to your skin like a second, suffocating layer. hand working on instinct, shedding your panties n' slipping your fingers through your pussylips as you watch the way jisung is driven forward with every harsh thrust.

You want in. You need in.

“Please, Min,” you whimper, “Please just- anything”

“Not yet, sweetheart,” he commands, a guttural sound in the back of his throat, as he pushes Jisung deeper into the mattress. “Just watch how much he wants it. Touch yourself to it.”

At that, Jisung lets out a loud, shattered moan, his hips jerking forward. “Hnnng- please, oh god, I can't-” He is babbling now, his words blurring together into a frantic, incoherent mess of pleasure.

Minho doesn’t slow down. anything but that.

Instead, he leans forward, his chest pressing against Jisung’s sweating back as he whispers right into his ear. His voice is a low, taunting coo, “Oh you’re shaking so hard, baby.”

He punctuates his words with a slow, punishingly deep stroke that makes Jisung’s eyes roll back. “but you’re doing so well. You can take it, right? like good boy?”

Jisung can only sob out a fragmented "Yes," his mind zeroing on the praise, focused on getting called a good boy again

You'd pushed two fingers in by now, matching minho's pace as you watch Jisung’s back arch.

You're leaking all over, your hips rolling against the bed, but Minho keeps the focus on Jisung.

He is breaking him down, overstimulating him until Jisung is just a shaking, sobbing heap of nerves. “See? That’s it, baby, just take it all,”

The room is suffocatingly hot, the scent of sweat and sex becoming a thick, dizzying fog. You can see the way the sweat is glistening on Minho’s shoulders and the mess of lube between jisungs thighs.

Every slap of skin against skin and every broken moan making you impossibly wetter, your fingers sliding through so easily in and out in a desperate attempt to find some release, but your fingers aren't quite enough.

“Please, Min, please ” you whimper, your voice cracking, so desperate to be touched, to be manhandled just like Jisung is.

Minho finally shifts his gaze to you, though he doesn't break his rhythm. He keeps driving into Jisung with that same relentless force, his eyes locking onto yours. A small, smug smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as he watches you trembling, your fingers still working frantically between your legs.

“Look at you,” he rasps, his voice thick and commanding. “You look absolutely gorgeous like this, sweetheart. So desperate n’ soaked”

Without slowing the pace, he reaches forward, his hand sliding from Jisung’s hip to the back of his neck, gripping firmly before forcing his head to turn and tilt upward.

He maneuvers him until Jisung is looking right at you, his eyes glazed and eyes blown out, his face flushed a deep, bruised red. “Look at her, Jisung,” Minho purrs, “Tell me, isn’t she so pretty?”

Jisung lets out a broken, high pitched whine, his gaze lingering over your shaking form.

“So pretty,” Jisung whimpers, “God, she’s looks so p-pretty,” He tries to reach out for you, his fingers twitching against the sheets, his eyes dilating even further as he takes in the sight of you trembling on the edge of the bed.

and as if minho finally decides to have mercy on you, he stops.

The sudden silence of the room is deafening, the slapping sound cutting off abruptly as pulls out of jisung slowly with a pop. Jisung lets out a pathetic, high pitched whine, his hips twitching backwards, trying to chase the feeling of Minho inside him.

Before either of you can even question why he stopped, his palms wrap themselves around your waist, shifting your weight until your legs are splayed wide and your dripping cunt is positioned right in front of Jisung’s face.

You feel the sudden heat of his breath fanning against your bare, twitchy cunt, then-- “Now,” Minho says, “go ahead, ji, take care of her.” before sliding back into jisung once again.

that's all he needs to hear before he starts eating you out like a madman

his tongue is there, lapping and hitting your clit with a precision that makes your head spin, moaning at the slick that engulfs his mouth and onto his tastebuds.

his hands run to splay against your thighs and grip them open to pull you closer, closer and closer until you're flush against his face. His mouth parted, tongue licking from bottom to the very top in one messy stroke that makes your back bow.

“Hnnnng, oh- Jisungggg,” you moan, your fingers finding ground into the mattress as you feel Minho’s heavy thrusts pushing Jisung forward.

everything is so overwhelming.

the feeling the wet slap of Minho and Jisung’s bodies colliding while Jisung’s tongue works you over, dragging you down by your plush thighs whenever you even try to inch upwards, it's all too much

"So sweet," he gasps, "God, you taste so good." He lets out a whine, his tongue a blurr, flicking rapidly over you, pushing you toward a sweet release that feels just out of reach.

above both of you, minho is all praise, his voice a sweet “That’s it, baby, eat her out.” and “Good boy, Jisung. Such a good boy for me.”, that contradict the harsh move of his hips.

You can hear Jisung making these muffled, needy sounds against your skin, his breathing heavy and wet as he focuses entirely on your pleasure.

Every time Minho drives his hips forward, he pushes Jisung’s face deeper into your folds, making the suction even tighter.

“Oh god, oh fuck,” you sob, your head tossing back “Ji , please don't stop.”

Jisung lets out a muffled moan against your skin, his tongue flicking faster, more desperate. He’s shaking, his whole body vibrating because he’s being fucked and he’s tasting you all at the same time.

You look down only too see him already looking at you, his cheeks flushed a deep, dark red. He’s making these little hnnnng sounds in his throat, his hands’ grip on your thighs still firm and unmoving.

Minho’s voice is a low, commanding rumble right above your head. “Look at her, Jisung. See how much she’s leaking for you? keep going. Eat every bit of her.”

Minho’s got his fingers threaded through Jisung’s hair, pulling his head tighter against you. You can hear the wet, sloppy sounds of his tongue sliding over your clit.

“Min, please*” Jisung babbles, his voice broken and wet. “Haaah, it feels so good, m'gonna cum soon, she tastes so sweet—”

“I know, baby, I know” Minho praises, his voice dripping with affection even as he drives into Jisung with a brutal, heavy force. “Just take it. Take it all for her.”

The friction is too much. Your vision is blurring at the edges, and your thighs are shaking so hard you can barely stay still.

“I’m— I’m gonna,” you gasp, your voice is wrecked. You can feel the pressure building, a tight coil in your gut that is seconds away from snapping. “Can I-- can I cum?”

Minho doesn't answer right away. He lets out a sharp, guttural sound, his pace becoming erratic. He leans over Jisung, his chest heaving, his eyes focused on the sight of the two of you.

“Do we let her, Ji?” Minho huffs. “Should we let her come?”

jisung breaks off for just a second "Yes, please," Jisung begs, "Please let her. I wan' it all over my tongue."

Minho lets out an amused hum, "You heard him, sweetheart."

The coil in your gut finally snaps, your back arching violently as the first wave of your orgasm crashes over you. You collapse against Jisung’s face, your walls pulsing and squeezing as you soak his tongue in a heavy, hot flood.

Jisung lets out a strangled, muffled cry against your skin. The feeling of you coming all over him pushed him over the edge. He freezes for a split second, his eyes blowing wide, and then his entire body jolts. He cums, soaking into the mattress beneath him.

Minho isnt far behind either, he drives himself deeper one last time, his body locking up as he spills himself deep inside Jisung.

“Oh- oh fuck,” Jisung babbles, his eyes rolling back into his head as the aftershocks ripple through him. He doesn't even pull away from you, his lips still wet and swollen.

He looks up at you, his gaze hazy and desperate. “I want - hnnng - I want to fuck her. Min, please, I need to fuck her so bad.”

you've barely even caught your breath.

Minho just smirks, his hand sliding from Jisung’s hair to the small of his back. “Then do it, baby. Get her ready.”

the approval is all he needs to hear before he surges.

Still shaking from his own release, he hooks an arm around your waist and heaves you onto your hands and knees with a strength that's so surprising given he just got wrecked.

His skin is slick, sliding against yours with a wet, tacky sound as he moves you into place. He’s trembling, his muscles twitching under the skin, but his grip on your hips is strong, bruising.

He settles back onto his wobbly knees, his breath hitching in a series of jagged gasps. You can feel him - thick, pulsing, and dripping - pressing against your entrance.

He guides himself in so agonizingly slow, the tip of his cock stretching your opening wide.

“fuck” Jisung moans, his voice a wrecked, airy mess. “You’re so wet, baby, you’re fucking soaking... I can’t - haaah - I can’t believe how good this feels.”

and the only thing he can do through his hazed senses is grab both sides of your waist and using it as leverage to pull and pull you down his dick till you're fully stretched to accommodate him.

Your forehead hitting the mattress as you feel him finally sink deep, filling you to the brim. “Jisung, oh god--,”

The moment he’s fully bottomed out, he starts rutting into you so desperately, his hips snapping forward in a wet smacks that echo through the room.

You are clawing at the sheets, your fingers twisting the fabric into ruined knots as you sob into the pillow, your voice a broken, incoherent mess of babbles n' moans

“You feel so fucking tight,” Jisung whines, hand caressing your back before pressing you down into a meaner arch “shitt, you’re squeezing me so h-hard, baby”

Minho watches before he reaches forward, his large hands sliding down your torso to haul your upper body off the mattress.

You let out a startled sound as you’re pulled upward, but you don't lose the connection. Jisung just adjusts his grip on your hips, digging his fingers in for leverage as he continues to move into you from behind, his cock sliding even deeper at this angle, kissing at your cervix with every heavy, plunging thrust.

Minho’s fingers tangling in your hair to yank your face toward his.

He crashes his lips against yours in a kiss that is desperate and messy, all tongue n’ teeth, and you meet his intensity with a needy whine, your tongue dancing with his as you lose all sense of where you end and he begins.

You're lightheaded, the world narrowing down to the feeling of both of them sandwiching you.

Just as you think you can't handle the sensory overload, Minho lets go.

The sudden loss of support sends you pitching forward, collapsing right into the mattress with a soft thud. You land sprawled out, breathless and flushed.

face hovering directly in front of him.

Your gaze falls immediately on his cock, still thick and pulsing, a prominent vein running the length. he looks so pretty, glistening with a mixture of precum and leftover lube.

Your hand reaches out, purely on instinct, fingers curling around him and giving him a few wet tugs that sent his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

You lean in closer, hot breath fanning against his skin, and begin to place small, flickering kitten licks along the underside of his shaft.

“o-oh, what a good girl,” he stutters for the first time tonight. “ takin’ care of me without even being asked.”

You shift your weight, eager to please, sliding forward until you can wrap your lips around the leaky tip of his cock.

You keep your gaze locked on his, looking up through your lashes, watching his expression crumble as you swirl your tongue down along the sensitive ridge.

and God does that make him throw his head back with a whimper

Then, you open wide and take him deeper. easing down inch upon swollen inch so slowly down your throat.

Minho doesn't let you set the pace for long.

His large hands suddenly snap forward, fingers locking firmly onto either side of your head.

He drives his vicious hips forward with a sudden, heavy force that sends him deeep into your throat. You make a muffled, surprised sound, your eyes widening and your throat contracting as you feel him hit the back of your throate.

He doesn't start slow.

He doesn’t even give you a second to adjust before he's fucking your throat with a mindless hunger, paying no mind to your wet gurgles as you struggle around him, his thick length sliding in and out of your mouth with a wet, sloppy sound that fills the room.

“Look at her,” Minho groans, his fingers tightening in your hair. “Such a greedy little thing. Taking every inch of me.”

He lets out a sharp hiss when you involuntarily contract around him, your eyes watering from the depth. He doesn’t stop the relentless pace, his hips snapping forward with a heavy, wet sound.

“perfect lil' mouth,” he rasps. “So perfect for me. Just a little toy, hmm?”

his words make you reel

Jisung lets out a breathless, jagged laugh from behind you, still rutting into you, still plunging into you like an animal

“fuckfuckfuck,” Jisung whimpers, gazing down lovingly at your overspilling cunt. “She loves it, Min. She’s clamping down on me so hard- fuck.”

Minho chuckles, griping your hair tighter, pulling your head back just enough to look at your flushed, desperate face.

“Is that true, sweetheart?” he purrs. “Do you like being my little toy? Do you love it when I tell you how good you are?”

You can’t even answer. You just let out a muffled hum, your eyes fluttering shut in pure bliss.

You are absolutely trapped between them, a living fuck toy. You can feel the thrusts of Jisung’s cock drilling straight into your g-spot, all while Minho’s length is filling your mouth, pushing you forward and backward on the mattress so ruthlessly.

Your hands scramble for balance, fingers digging into the hard muscle of Minho’s thighs as you gag around him, the sound of your own choked whines muffled by his cock.

Jisung lets out a shattered, needy sound, his hips snapping forward, “oh god, she’s so tight,” he babbles so dumbly, he's drunk on your pussy “fucking clamping around me--, so wet, can feel it dripping down my thighs”

his mouth is running a hundred miles an hour as his pleasure peaks, hand snakes down, his fingers slick with a mix of lube and your own soaking wetness.

He finds your clit, rubbing circles that makes your whole body shudder. you moan - or try to moan - around Minho’s cock, your eyes fluttering shut.

Minho suddenly pulls out of your mouth with a wet pop. You snap your head back, gasping for air, your chest heaving as you take in a massive, shaking breath after being deprived of oxygen for so long.

You are completely dazed, your vision swimming and your lower face a glistening, smeared mess of saliva and precum.

Minho shifts back, sitting up slightly, and starts jerking himself off, hovering just inches above your face, the head dripping a heavy bead of precum that lands with a wet plink right on your cheek.

Your mind is a complete white blank.

You can feel Jisung still buried deep inside you, his hips twitching and shuddering, he's close.

Your own walls are pulsing, clamped tight around Jisung’s length, and you can feel the pressure building in your gut, a violent need to release that is almost painful.

“P-please...”

Minho’s hand moves faster on himself, the sound of his grip sliding over his skin a wet, tacky noise. “Please what, sweetheart? Use your words. Tell me exactly what you want.”

you can barely remember how to form a sentence.

You let out a frustrated moan, your hips jerking instinctively against Jisung. “I-I... hnngh... please let me...”

“C’mon, baby. You’re almost there, aren’t you? Tell me,”

“Please let me cum-”

“That’s my good girl. go ahead n' cum baby”

Drowning in the wave of bliss, you're cumming- hard, trying to fuck yourself back on jisung despite the limpness in your limbs, dragging your high back on forth through his length.

That does it for jisung

“fuck - fuck, I’m-I’m cumming!” he already was cuming, his whole body stilling as he shoots a heavy, hot load deep inside your womb, filling your pretty insides to the brim.

You’re still shaking, your chest heaving as you gasp for air, and the sight of you - both of you - brings minho right at the edge.

He leans over you, his dark eyes searching yours, his free hand caressing the hair clinging to your forehead before holding your head up by your chin. “Stick your tongue out for me, sweetheart.”

You obey instantly, your mouth hanging open, tongue sliding out, your face still a smeared mess of saliva and precum.

“Thaaat’s it,” Minho groans, his hips snapping forward one last time, and you feel the first hot, thick rope of his cum hit your lip, and then another, and another, and another, splashing across your cheek and landing right on your tongue.

he's coated your face in a glistening, salty mess his own cum, his breath coming in long, shuddering exhales.

there is a thick silence that follows, only broken by the sound of the three of you catching your breaths.

You stay frozen, your eyes fluttering, feeling the hot, tacky sensation of his cum cooling on your skin and tongue. Your body is still humming, your nerves fried from the intensity of being sandwiched between them, used and praised until you couldn't think.

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.

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, @binniebb, @clairementsolo, @nclabels, @genuinelybrittleidol , @parkthothwa8, @daphnnie, @hyunnjynn, @sagetakami, @hanniesbubuwife, @hycnsung, @matzduo, @hwang97janet,

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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Your mom’s were best friends, you grew up in the same house practically, spent holidays together. He was less a boy and more a permanent fixture in your home. You had done most of the looking out for him when you were younger, fending off anyone who dared to look at him the wrong way. And when he went off to college, you following him, two years later, it was his turn to look after you. He introduced you to his friends, a group of boys from the frat he joined, skipped class to hang around your dorm when you weren’t feeling well. He was your best friend. He was your Han Jisung.

Your Han Jisung, who is currently trying to convince his friends that he has never kissed you and has never thought to.

It annoys you a little. You’ve run through your fair share of men, and some women, since you’ve started college last year. You know you're attractive, that certainly isn’t the problem. So why was Jisung so adamant in proving to his friends that he’s never thought of you in that way? You were starting to feel a bit wounded.

“I’m calling bullshit,” Felix says, leaning against the beer pong table. Smoke drifts upward from the shared joint hanging between his fingers, a fuzzy halo above his blonde head. “Never? Not even once? Come on.”

You don’t even know how this conversation started. One minute you're all lounging around at this house party on a random Friday night, and the next the discussion had shifted to this.

“No,” Jisung’s thigh bounces up and down, which isn’t unusual. He always gets jittery when he smokes. “No. I haven’t, she’s like a–”

“For the love of a fat ass, don’t say she’s like a sister to you,” Hyunjin says, wrinkling his nose.

“Why not?”

Hyunjin gestures wildly at the position you two are sitting in right now. You’re practically in his lap. Your legs are tangled with his on the beat-up couch, and your head is resting on his shoulder.

“That’s how we always sit,” Jisung says, eyebrows pinched in confusion. 

“Okay, well, my sister doesn’t have a lap full of me right now, so there’s that,” Felix says, a lazy grin spreading across his face.

Jisung just grumbles something and snatches the joint from Felix. He leans his head back into the couch, breathing it in deeply, passing it to you without even lifting his head from the pillows. You catch it with your teeth, brows furrowing in disappointment when you're hit with nothing. It’s dead. You pluck it from your lips and lean forward to crush it in the ashtray on the coffee table. When you settle back against the cushions, you shift, just slightly.

Your knee brushes against the crotch of his jeans. The resulting twitch from him is immediate, a little jump of muscle that tells you everything you need to know. He has thought about it. He’s lying through his teeth and it’s hurting your fucking ego.

Hyunjin stretches out his leg to nudge your leg with his foot. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You ever thought about it?”

You and Hyunjin have a weird sort of relationship. You hooked up once at a party, back when you were a freshman. Jisung had found out and gotten upset, telling you that his friends were all assholes and man-whores and were therefore off-limits. You pointed out that Jisung had slept with some of your friends and you hadn’t said anything but he wouldn’t be swayed, refusing to talk to you until you promised to never do it again. You decided then that Hyunjin, though he was beautiful and a pretty decent fuck, was not worth it. The two of you never spoke of it again, but a certain level of playful flirtation has remained. 

“Sure,” you say breezily, picking at a loose thread on the couch cushion.

Jisung sits up so fast you nearly topple over. “You have?” The look on his face is nothing short of comical.

“Yeah. Have you not?”

“No,” he says, and the lie is so obvious it hangs heavy in the air, “We’re best friends.”

“So?” Hyunjin’s leaning forward now, elbows on his knees, dark eyes dancing with mischief. “Best friends can have fun.”

You’re starting to think he might be right. And you’re starting to think you’d like to have some fun with Jisung, especially if it meant wiping that stupid look off his face. It was a dangerous thought, one that you’d entertained briefly before, always shoving it down because it felt wrong, like crossing some sort of sacred line.

But right now, watching him squirm, it feels more like a starting line.

You shift again, slower this time, and rest your hand on his thigh. His leg stops bouncing. He freezes, all motion ceasing except for the rapid rise and fall of his chest. He’s looking straight ahead, at the wall, but you can feel the heat of his gaze on your profile.

“What’s so wrong with me that you don’t want to kiss me?” You pout, looking at him through your lashes.

He looks at you then, really looks at you, and his eyes are wide and dark and full of something you can’t quite name. “Nothing,” he breathes. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

You shrug one shoulder, making a show of sighing and rolling your eyes towards the ceiling. “Clearly there’s something wrong with you, then. I know for a fact almost all of your friends have thought about kissing me.” You’re bluffing, mostly. You only know for a fact about Hyunjin. And maybe Seungmin. But that was more of a vibe.

Thankfully, Felix gets the hint. He leans forward on the couch, balancing his elbows on his knees. “I have.”

Jisung turns sharply towards him, parting his lips but before he can speak, Hyunjin chimes in, raising his hand. “I did.” Then, when Jisung throws him a look so dirty, he recoils. “Once. And I never did it again.”

“I wouldn’t be so against it,” Changbin chimes in from where he's playing beer pong. He giggles and turns back to the game ignoring the death glare from Jisung.

You flash him a smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Then you turn back to Jisung. You can feel the beat of his heart through the denim of his jeans, a frantic little drum solo against your palm. “See? I’m very kissable.”

He doesn't move, doesn't back away. He just swallows, the sound loud in the suddenly quiet corner of the party. His gaze drops from your eyes to your lips and back again.

You sigh loudly, untangling your legs from his and getting up from the couch. "Whatever," You step past him. "I'm gonna go get more–"

A hand wraps around your wrist, yanking you back so suddenly that you can’t help but yelp, landing in a heap onto Jisung’s lap. Before you can react—or even adjust yourself properly—his lips find yours.

It’s not a soft, tentative kiss. It's a crash. It’s messy and a little desperate, the way a teenager kisses for the first time. There’s an edge of frustration to it, of months, maybe years, of unspoken tension finally boiling over. His tongue slides against yours, and you can taste the cheap beer and the lingering smoke. His hand moves from your wrist to the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair, holding you in place. He’s kissing you like he’s trying to prove a point. Someone wolf-whistles, Felix maybe, but it fades into a distant hum, and all that’s left is the frantic beat of his heart against your palm and the dizzying taste of Han Jisung.

When he finally pulls away, you’re both breathless. His pupils are blown wide, swallowing the brown of his irises. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, a smug little smirk playing on your lips.

"Shit," Jisung breaths. "You're good at that."

"You were there too, you know," You tease bumping your forehead into his. Maybe you should feel a little weird about kissing this boy you've known since you were children when you've never crossed this line before. But, strangely, or maybe not so strangely, there's nothing weird about it. It feels as natural as breathing, kissing Jisung.

Instead of replying, he's tilting his head up to catch your lips again, palms sliding down from your neck over the expanse of your back and smoothing over your ass, pulling you into him. He deepens the kiss with a soft groan that vibrates in your chest. It's a better kiss this time, slower, more certain. He explores your mouth with a newfound confidence. This is fun. So much fun. You're not sure why you never tried this before.

His thumb finds that little strip of skin between your top and your jeans, stroking it gently. And a shiver goes through you that has nothing to do with the buzz of the party. It’s a jolt, a current that runs straight down to your core, and your hips roll against his of their own accord. A low moan escapes your lips and into his mouth. 

“Booooo,” Hyunjin says from somewhere behind you. “Get a fucking room.”

Neither of you are fazed in the slightest. You feel a great chasm opening between the two of you. It’s only been about  thirty seconds of kissing Jisung and you already know you’ll never be the same without it. You mourn all the years you’ve gone without his lips on yours and you mourn for all the years that will come after this phase of kissing Jisung, because it will someday end. All your life you’ve never known anyone to keep a relationship. 

You pull back from him and he pouts, a pretty little thing that you want to bite. You hold back for now.

“Why haven’t we done this sooner?” He asks, dazed. He leans in to kiss you again, but you put a finger to his lips.

“Because you were too busy denying how much you wanted to,” you say, grinning. The power you feel is intoxicating, headier than the cheap beer, sweeter than the cherry cola on his tongue.

He just grumbles something unintelligible, nipping at the pad of your finger before leaning back into the couch, pulling you with him. His grip on your waist is firm in a way that sends another thrill through you. He’s not letting you go.

You end up making out for the rest of the party, tucked into your little corner of the couch. The weed and the alcohol fade into a distant hum, replaced by the overwhelming sensation of him. When the party eventually thins out and he walks you home, he kisses you some more at the door and you have to physically pull yourself away from him.

“Okay, okay,” you laugh as he tries to follow you inside. “Go home, Ji.”

“When can I see you again?” he asks, a desperate edge to his voice. His hair is a mess from where your hands have been tangled in it, and his lips are swollen and red.

“You see me practically every day.” You shrug, trying to play it cool, even as your heart hammers against your ribs. “And we have that paper to finish for psych.”

“Forget the paper,” he says, shaking his head. “I want to kiss you again.” He takes a step closer, his hands finding your hips. “I don't think I can stop.”

He’s looking at you with a raw, open honesty that makes your breath catch in your throat. This is not the Jisung you know. Your Jisung is goofy and sarcastic, prone to hiding behind jokes and deflecting with humor. This Jisung is… intense.

“Tomorrow,” you say, your voice a little too soft. “You can see me tomorrow.”

He seems to accept this, nodding slowly. He leans in and gives you one last, lingering kiss, a soft, gentle press of lips that feels more intimate than all the frantic kissing from before. “Okay,” he whispers against your mouth. “Tomorrow.”

He takes a few steps down the path, then he stops and turns back. The porch light casts him in a soft, golden glow, but you can see the uncertainty in the set of his shoulders. He’s a silhouette against the dark night, and for a second, he looks like the little boy you used to build pillow forts with.

“Hey,” he calls out, shoving his hands in his pockets. “This… this doesn’t change anything, right?”

You pause with your hand on the doorknob. Change anything? The idea is almost laughable. You and Jisung have been a constant in each other's lives since before you could even remember. What could a few kisses possibly change?

“Of course not,” you say, a genuine, easy smile spreading across your face. “We’re just having fun. Right?”

“Right,” he nods. “Fun. Right.”

He turns and jogs away, a spring in his step that wasn't there before. You watch him go, a warm, fuzzy feeling spreading through your chest. It’s just fun. You’ve always been good at having fun.

And fun it is. Your relationship hasn't changed much, at least not on the surface. You still hang out nearly every day, still bicker over what to eat for dinner, still fall asleep watching movies in his bed. The only difference is that now, you kiss. You kiss in the morning, before you’ve even brushed your teeth, a sleepy, soft press of lips. You kiss in the afternoon, between classes, a quick, hard peck against the brick wall of the humanities building. You kiss at night, tangled in his sheets, long, deep, and searching, until you’re both breathless and aching for more.

The line between friendship and… whatever this is… has become a blurry, beautiful mess.

You’re in his room, a month into this new arrangement. You’re supposed to be studying for a midterm, but your textbook lies forgotten on the floor, its pages crumpled. Jisung is on top of you, his weight a pleasant, grounding pressure. He's kissing a trail down your neck, his lips hot and insistent against your skin.

“You taste so good,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear. His hand slips under your shirt, his fingers tracing patterns on the soft skin of your stomach.

You arch into him, a soft gasp escaping your lips. Your fingers tighten in his hair. This is the part that’s always been a little blurry. You've never crossed this line, never went beyond just making out and heavy petting. It feels like the next logical step in this "fun" you're having, but there’s a tiny, hesitant part of you that’s still a little afraid of what that step might mean.

“Jisung,” you breathe, your voice a little shaky.

He pulls back, his face hovering just above yours. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide with desire. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you say, shaking your head. “Nothing’s wrong.” You reach up and cup his face, your thumb stroking his cheek. “I just… I'm on my period."

It's a lie. You don't know why you're lying. Maybe you're scared. Maybe you know that having sex with your best friend is a line you can't uncross. But he doesn't need to know that.

He blinks, processing this, then a slow, lazy smile spreads across his face. "So?"

"So?" you echo, a little thrown. "So, it's gross. Don't tell me you've done it before."

"I mean, yeah," he shrugs, "a couple of times. It's not a big deal." He leans down and kisses you, a quick, soft peck on the lips. "I don't care. Did you know it helps a lot with cramps?"

You roll your eyes, but you can't help but laugh. "Did you read that on a feminist blog or something?"

He scratches his eyebrow. "Actually, I was researching what helped with period cramps after you mentioned having really bad ones a few years ago." he says, his ears turning a shade of pink. He smiles sheepishly. "I ended up settling for some Advil."

The admission is so unexpected, so utterly Jisung, that it cuts through the haze of arousal. You let out a small, breathy laugh. "You're an idiot," you say, but there's no malice in it. You reach up and smooth the furrow in his brow. "A sweet, researched-my-cramps idiot."

He grins, relieved. "So... no on the period sex?"

You shake your head, a genuine smile on your face. "No. Nice try though."

"Damn," he says, though he doesn't sound too disappointed. He shifts, rolling off you to lie beside you. "Can I at least still touch you?"

You pretend to think about it, tapping a finger against your chin. "Hmm, I don't know. I'm a very fragile flower right now."

He snorts, rolling his eyes. "Right. A fragile flower who was just trying to rip my shirt off five seconds ago."

"Was not."

"Were too."

"Was not."

"Were too."

"If I wanted your shirt off, I would have it off by now," You point out. And you would have. You’re an expert at undressing men quickly.

"I'm not that easy," Jisung protests, propping his head on his elbow to look at you comfortably. "I don't take my shirt off for just anybody."

You roll onto your side to face him, propping your own head up. The sunlight catches in his hair, turning it into a fluffy, brown halo. "Yeah, well, I'm not just anybody. And I've seen you shirtless a bijillion times anyway."

"Yeah but not during sexy sexy time." He wiggles his eyebrows at you.

"Take off your shirt, Jisung." You say, sitting up now, poking his chest with your finger. He yelps, smacking your hand away.

"I just said I'm not that easy!" He whines.

You just stare at him, raising a single eyebrow.

He holds out for approximately three seconds before he sighs dramatically and sits up, crossing his arms and grabbing the hem of his shirt. He pulls it over his head in one fluid motion, tossing it onto the floor. "There. Are you happy?"

You gap at him. "You got a tattoo? Holy shit, it's big."

He grins, unable to help it. "That's not the only thing that's bi--"

You cut him off with a look. He clears his throat. "Uh, yeah. I had it done almost two months ago now."

You trace the elegant cursive script with your eyes. It starts just under his left armpit, a single, beautifully rendered word. Blessed. The letters flow down his side, over the sensitive skin of his ribs, disappearing tantalizingly beneath the waistband of his jeans. You have an overwhelming urge to see the rest of it.

"Blessed?" You trace the letters with your fingertip, from the top down as far as you can go. The skin under your touch is warm. He shivers. "Why 'Blessed'?"

He shrugs, looking away, a faint blush creeping up his neck. "I don't know. Just felt right."

A memory suddenly rises to your mind. ""Blessed is he who has learned the causes of things""

He grins sheepishly. "Am I really that predictable?" He asks.

"Yes, you pretentious shit, quoting Virgil." You say but there is no heat in it. "You are such a dork."

He laughs, a soft, breathy sound that rumbles through his chest. You shift, laying your head on his stomach so you can get a better view of the tattoo, your fingers continuing their slow, meandering path over the ink. His skin is soft here. You can feel the muscles of his abdomen tighten slightly under your touch.

"It's about…," he beings thoughtfully, his voice vibrating through your ear. His fingers start to play with your hair, gently combing through the strands. "It's about... understanding, you know? Not just letting shit happen to you, but actually trying to figure out the why. The cause and effect."

You hum in response, your finger tracing the curve of the 's' in 'Blessed'. You can feel the slight raised texture of the healed ink against your skin.

"When I was getting it done," he continues, his voice a low, intimate murmur, "it hurt like a bitch. But it was this weird, focused pain. I could feel the needle, and I knew exactly where it was coming from and why it hurt. And for some reason, that made it... easier. Made me feel in control." He pauses. "Most of life isn't like that. Things just happen. People get sick, relationships end, you fail a test... you don't always get to know the cause."

Your finger stills. You can feel the steady, rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing beneath your cheek. He's not talking about Virgil anymore. He's talking about everything. About the anxiety that sometimes keeps him up all night, about the sheer, terrifying randomness of the world.

"I guess I just wanted a reminder," he says, and you can tell he's not really here with you, but somewhere deep inside of his head. "That even if I can't control the causes, I can at least try to learn them. To understand them. And maybe... maybe that's a kind of blessing in itself."

You press your lips against the skin of his ribs, right over the last visible letter of the word. It's a soft, gentle kiss, nothing like the frantic, demanding kisses from before. 

He lets out a shaky breath, his hand stilling in your hair. You feel his fingers tighten just a little bit, a reflexive grasp. For a long moment, the only sound in the room is the hum of the mini-fridge in the corner and the frantic, unsteady beating of your own heart.

You assume he must be getting sex from elsewhere, because it's been two months since you first kissed him, and you still haven't gone all the way. The make-out sessions have escalated, sure. Hands wander further, clothes come off more readily. There's a fine sheen of sweat on your skin almost every night after he leaves your dorm room. But you always pull back, and he always, always, lets you.

You're starting to feel like a fraud. You preach 'fun' and 'no feelings,' but you're the one who's scared. Scared that crossing that final line will shatter everything you've built with him.

The thought of him with someone else gnaws at you. You try to brush it off. He's a college guy. Of course he's hooking up with other people. You do too, or you would be, if you could muster up the energy to go on a date instead of spending all your free time with Jisung.

You don't like feeling this way. It's an icky, possessive feeling that has no place in a 'fun' arrangement.

The thought bubbles up out of your mouth one evening while you're sprawled on your floor, 'studying' for finals. "Are you sleeping with anyone else?"

Jisung, who is highlighting a paragraph in a textbook with an almost violent concentration, freezes. The bright yellow highlighter hovers over the page. He doesn't look up.

"No," he says, a beat too late. "Are you?"

The question hangs in the air between you, charged with an unspoken electricity. You're not. You haven't even thought about it. The idea of going on a date with some random guy from your stats class feels exhausting, and deeply unappealing.

"No," you admit, picking at a loose thread on the rug. "I just... I figured you would be. We're not... exclusive."

"So?" He finally looks up, and his eyes are dark, serious. "I don't want to."

"Why not?" You press, needing to know. "I'm not putting out. A guy has needs."

A muscle in his jaw jumps. "I'm getting my needs met," he says, his voice low and a little rough. He puts down the highlighter and closes the book with a soft thud.

You sit up, genuinely intrigued. "With who?"

"With no one."

"That makes no sense, Ji, how--"

He just stares at you, a long, intense look that makes your stomach do a little flip. He doesn't say anything. He doesn't have to.

"Oh," you breathe, the realization hitting you like a physical blow. He's getting off on you. With the thought of you. The thought is so hot, so surprisingly intimate, that it makes you dizzy.

"Yeah, 'oh'," he mimics, a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. He leans back on his hands, stretching his long legs out. "Is that a problem?"

"No," you say, a little too quickly. "No, it's not a problem."

"Good."

He goes back to his book, but the spell is broken. You can't focus. The image of him, alone in his room, thinking of you, is burned into the back of your eyelids.

"How come?"

He glances at you. "How come I jacked off to the thought of you riding my face in the library last week?" he asks, deadpan.

You choke on your own spit. "Jisung!"

"What? You asked," he shrugs, completely unfazed.

"That's not what I was asking, I–in the library?"

"Study room C," he clarifies, as if that's the detail you were stuck on. "The chairs are surprisingly sturdy–"

"Anyway," You interrupt. "I meant, how come you haven't been fucking anyone else?"

He sucks on his teeth. "Cuz I don't want to. Besides, it's not like there's any options anyway."

You snort. "That's a bold faced lie, Han Jisung, I know for a fact that that red head from lit has been trying to get in your pants for at least a month."

Jisung blinks. “I thought she was just interested in lizards.”

“No one is actually interested in lizards,” You point out.

“I am.”

“You’re a one in a million, Ji. Maybe even a billion. Are you really just going to keep her waiting?”

He shrugs. “I was never going to sleep with her.”

Now it’s your turn to blink in surprise. “Whoa. Okay, what up?”

“What?”

“Don’t what me, you’re the one with some sort of deadly illness. A  girl’s throwing herself at you and you don’t want to have sex with her?”

“Is that so bad?”

“No…it’s just weird. And a little out of character for you.”

“Is it?” He finally looks up, looking deep into your eyes. “Would you really be okay with me sleeping with her?”

“She’s not really my type, to be honest, so you can have–”

“No,” He cuts off, sounding frustrated now. It surprises you. “I’m not asking specifically about her. Are you really okay with me sleeping with anyone?”

That takes you off guard. “Yes? Why would I not be?”

He looks at you for a long moment, before turning back, huffing a little irritated laugh. “Right. Never mind, forget it.” 

He turns back to his book, highlighting aggressively and leaving you completely and utterly confused. You don't press it. The air is too thick with things you don't want to name.

The party is in full swing, a chaotic explosion of relief and cheap alcohol. The air in the frat house is thick with the smell of spilled beer and sweat, the bass from the speakers vibrating through the soles of your feet. Finals are over. Summer is a breath away. You should be celebrating.

Instead, you're leaning against a sticky wall in the kitchen, watching Jisung from across the room. He's holding court, of course, a circle of admirers hanging on his every word. Among them is the redhead from your lit class, the lizard enthusiast. She's laughing at something he said, her hand resting on his arm.

A hot, ugly feeling coils in your stomach. Possessiveness. Jealousy. You hate it. You hate it more as you watch her latch onto Jisung’s wrist and pull him away. He goes willingly.

You push off the wall and grab a solo cup of what smells like regret and fruit punch, downing half of it in one go. The alcohol burns a path down your throat.

You spot Hyunjin by the beer pong table, a triumphant grin on his face as he sinks the last cup. He catches your eye and raises his eyebrows in a silent question. You give him a tight-lipped smile and make your way over.

“Having fun?” he asks, handing you a fresh beer.

“Peachy,” you say, taking a long sip.

His gaze drifts over to where disappeared with the redhead. “Trouble in paradise?”

“There is no paradise,” you snap, a little too harshly. “There’s just… a sandbox. And someone’s trying to play in my sandbox.”

Hyunjin laughs, a low, knowing sound. “You’re so full of shit. You like him.”

“Of course I like him, he’s my best friend.”

“You know what I mean,” he says, leaning closer. “You’ve been different with him these last few months. Softer, but also… jumpier. Like a stray cat that’s finally decided to let someone pet it but is still ready to bolt at any second.” You open your mouth to deny it, but the words die on your tongue. Because he’s right. You are a stray cat, and you’re terrified.

Before you can formulate a response, a new voice joins the conversation. “Who’s a stray cat?”

It’s Felix, all sunshine and smiles, his arm slung around Changbin’s shoulders. He looks between you and Hyunjin, his curiosity piqued.

“Her,” Hyunjin says, jerking a thumb in your direction. “She’s finally realizing she’s in love with Jisung.”

The words land like a bomb. The kitchen seems to go silent, the thumping bass of the music fading into a dull roar. Your heart hammers against your ribs. In love. The phrase is so absolute, so terrifyingly final. It’s not ‘fun.’ It’s not ‘messing around.’ It’s love.

You’re about to laugh it off, to make some cutting remark that will shut Hyunjin down, but you don’t get the chance. Because you see it. Over Hyunjin’s shoulder, you see Jisung. He’s no longer with the redhead. He’s standing at the edge of the living room, and he’s looking right at you. And you know, with a sickening certainty, that he heard.

You shove past Hyunjin, ignoring his calls of your name. You need to get out of here. You need air. You push through the throng of bodies, the sticky floor gripping your shoes, the heat of the room pressing in on you. You burst through the front door into the cool night air, stumbling down the porch steps.

The front door opens and closes behind you. You don’t have to turn around to know it’s him.

“What was Hyunjin talking about?” His voice is tight, strained.

“Nothing,” you say, turning to face him. “He was just being an idiot.” You wrap your arms around yourself, a sudden chill making you shiver.

“He said you were in love with me,” he presses, taking a step closer. “Is that true?” His eyes are searching yours, desperate for an answer. And you can’t lie. Not to him. Not when he’s looking at you like that.

“No,” you say, the word coming out small and brittle. Because it’s not love. It can’t be. Love is messy and painful and ends with people crying on the bathroom floor. This is just… this is just a complication.

“Don’t lie to me,” he says, his voice cracking slightly. “Not about this.”

“I’m not lying!” you insist, your own voice rising with frustration. “Why do you even care? I saw you disappear with lizard girl."

He flinches as if you've slapped him. "Lizard girl? Her name is Sophie. And I didn't 'disappear' with her, I walked her to the door because she was too drunk to find it."

"Oh, I'm sure that's all it was," you scoff, the jealousy burning hot and irrational in your chest. "Poor, helpless Sophie."

"What the hell is your problem?" he says tightly, his usually calm demeanor shattering completely. "You say you don’t mind me sleeping with other people, but the second I so much as talk to another girl, you act like I've cheated on you!"

"Because you're supposed to be my friend!" you say harshly, your voice echoing in the quiet street. "You're not supposed to want them! You're supposed to want m—"

You cut yourself off, but it's too late. The words hang in the air, heavy and undeniable. You're supposed to want me.

Jisung stares at you, his expression a confusing mix of shock, hurt, and something that looks dangerously like hope. "Want you?" he repeats, his voice dangerously low. "Is that what this is about? Your ego? You need me to want you and only you, but you won't give me anything real in return?"

"That's not what I said!"

"It's what you meant!" he shoots back, running a frustrated hand through his hair. "God, you are so selfish. You want all of my attention, all of my...want. But you won't even admit what this is. You won't give me a label. What am I supposed to do, just wait around forever until you deign to let me in?"

His words are like shards of glass, each one finding a vulnerable spot. He's right. You have been selfish. You've been taking all the comfort and affection he offers without giving anything of substance back.

"Maybe you should just go fuck Sophie then," you spit out, the words laced with a venom you didn't know you possessed. "Maybe she's not as selfish as I am."

"Maybe I will," he retorts, his jaw set. "At least with her, I know where I stand."

The silence that follows is deafening. It’s heavier and colder than the night air. You can feel the chasm between you widening, a crack in the foundation of your entire friendship that you’re not sure can ever be repaired.

He looks at you one last time, and all the anger in his eyes has been replaced by a deep, profound sadness. "You know," he says, his voice quiet and hollow. "For someone who claims to be so good at reading people, you're really fucking clueless."

And with that, he turns and walks away. He doesn't look back. He just disappears into the night, leaving you standing alone on the sidewalk, the thumping bass from the party a distant, mocking heartbeat. The warmth from the alcohol has evaporated, leaving you cold and hollow. You wrap your arms tighter around yourself, but it doesn't help. You're not sure anything will ever help again.

The next few days are a special kind of hell. Silence. That's the worst part. The constant, buzzing silence where Jisung's laughter used to be. Your phone feels heavy and useless. You stare at your text thread with him, the last message being a stupid meme he sent you two days before the party. You can't bring yourself to type anything. What would you even say? Sorry I called you selfish and told you to go fuck someone else? It sounds hollow, even in your head.

You avoid the dorm lounge, the library, the coffee shop. Anywhere you might run into him or one of the guys. You exist in a bubble of your own making, attending your final classes and then retreating to the suffocating safety of your room. The unpacked boxes in the corner of your room seem to mock you, a reminder that summer is here and you have no idea what that means anymore. Summer has always meant Jisung. It has meant lazy days by the pool and late-night drives and the two of you against the world. Now, it just means a gaping, empty void.

A week later, the sky decides to open up and weep all over the city. You’re on your way to the storage unit to finally drop off the last of your boxes when your car, an ancient and temperamental sedan Jisung affectionately named ‘The Beast,’ sputters, coughs, and dies.

Of course it does.

You’re in the middle of nowhere, on a stretch of road lined with industrial parks and warehouses. The rain is coming down in sheets, so heavy you can barely see the hood of your car. The wipers are squeaking a pathetic, rhythmic protest. You try turning the key. Nothing. Just a series of sad, clicking sounds.

Panic, cold and sharp, starts to prickle at the edges of your calm. You pull out your phone, your fingers slippery with rain. You call Hyunjin. It goes straight to voicemail. You try Felix. He picks up on the fifth ring.

“Hello?” His voice is tinny and distant.

“Lix! Thank god, my car died and I’m stuck in the middle of nowhere and it’s pouring—”

“Oh, shit, that sucks,” he says, and you can hear the muffled sounds of a crowd. “I’m at this really lame family thing, I can’t really get away. Have you tried Changbin?”

“He doesn’t have a car,” you say, your frustration mounting.

“Jisung then,” Felix says, like it’s the simplest, most obvious solution in the world.

Your stomach clenches. “I’m not calling Jisung.”

There’s a beat of silence on the other end. “Oh. Right. The fight.” He sighs. “Look, I’m sorry. I really can’t leave. Maybe try a tow truck?”

“Great idea, Felix,” you say, your voice dripping with sarcasm you immediately regret. “Sorry. Thanks anyway.”

You hang up and let your head fall against the steering wheel. The metal is cold against your forehead. You call a roadside assistance number. The automated voice tells you the estimated wait time is two hours. Two hours. In this. You stare out at the grey, water-logged world, a proper, miserable self-pity party for one.

You feel small and helpless. Hated. You’ve made a complete mess of everything. All because you were scared of a word. Love. What a stupid, four-letter word to ruin a decade-long friendship.

You don't know how long you sit there, wallowing in a slurry of anger, guilt, and misery. Time loses its meaning, marked only by the drumming of the rain on the roof and the occasional flash of headlights from a passing car that leaves you feeling even more isolated. You’re so wrapped up in your own head, replaying the fight on a loop, that you don't even notice the pair of headlights that pull up behind you, their beams cutting through the downpour.

You jump violently when a loud rap sounds on your driver's side window. Your heart leaps into your throat. You turn, ready to scream at a serial killer or a creepy trucker, and freeze.

It’s Jisung.

He’s standing in the pouring rain, his dark hair plastered to his forehead, water dripping down the bridge of his nose. He’s wearing a thin hoodie that’s soaked through, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. He’s not smiling. He’s just looking at you, his expression unreadable through the glass and the streaks of rain.

For a second, you just stare at each other. He looks exhausted, there are dark circles under his eyes that match the ones you've seen in your own reflection all week. He gives a small, almost imperceptible nod towards the lock.

You fumble with the button, your fingers clumsy and cold. The door clicks open. He pulls it, the rush of cold, wet air immediately filling the car. He doesn't get in, just stands there, half-in, half-out, creating a small, temporary shelter from the storm.

“Felix called me,” he says by way of explanation. His voice is flat, devoid of any emotion. “Said you were being an idiot.”

You don't know what to say. Thank you feels too small. Go away feels too cruel. So you just sit there, clutching the steering wheel like a lifeline, unable to meet his gaze.

“The Beast’s dead?” he asks, nodding towards the sputtering engine.

You manage a weak nod.

“Figured.” He sighs, and it’s a weary, bone-deep sound. He shivers, a full-body tremor that he tries to suppress. “Pop the hood.”

You do as he says, fumbling for the latch. He leans out, expertly propping the hood open. He vanishes for a moment into the downpour, and you watch him through the windshield as he peers at the engine, his brow furrowed in concentration. He looks so out of place here, a boy of books and music and carefully chosen words, poking at the greasy guts of a dead machine. A wave of affection so strong it hurts.

He fiddles for a few minutes, yanking on a cable here, checking a connection there. He comes back to the window, shaking his head, water flying from his hair like a wet dog.

“Battery’s fried,” he says, his teeth chattering slightly. “And I think the alternator’s gone too. There’s nothing I can do out here.”

You just nod again, the lump in your throat making it impossible to speak. The silence stretches, punctuated only by the drumming rain.

“Come on,” he says, breaking it. “Get your stuff. I’ll take you back.”

You should refuse. You should tell him you’ve already called a tow, that you’ll be fine, that you don’t need him. But the lie dies on your lips. Because you do. You need him.

You grab your backpack and the box from the passenger seat, your movements stiff and awkward. He opens the back door of his car for you, placing your things carefully on the seat before closing it again. You slide into the passenger side, the warmth of the car’s heater a shocking, welcome sensation. The interior smells like him—faintly of laundry detergent and that specific, clean scent you’ve never been able to place.

He gets in, not a word spoken between you. The engine hums to life, a smooth, steady purr that is the complete opposite of your dead car. He pulls back onto the road, the wipers working overtime to clear the glass. The drive is suffocatingly quiet. You keep your eyes fixed on the passenger-side window, watching the blurry city lights streak by. Every muscle in your body is tense. You can feel the heat radiating from him, just a few inches away. The space between you feels both too vast and dangerously small.

You finally pull up outside your dorm building. The rain has eased to a miserable drizzle. He puts the car in park but leaves the engine running. The silence is back, heavier than ever. This is it. The moment where you have to say something.

“I can pay you for the gas,” you blurt out, hating how formal and stupid it sounds.

He doesn’t even look at you. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Jisung, I—”

“What are your plans for the summer?” he asks, cutting you off. His tone is casual, but you can hear the tension coiled beneath it.

The question catches you off guard. “Um, I don’t know. Work at the cafe, I guess. Take a couple of summer classes.” The words feel hollow, a list of empty activities to fill the gaping hole where he used to be.

He nods slowly, finally turning to look at you. The streetlights cast shadows across his face, making his expression impossible to read. “I’m going back home for a while. Help my parents with some stuff.”

Home. He’s going home. To another city. A three-hour drive away. It’s what he does every summer, but this year it feels like a final judgment. A sentence.

“Oh,” is all you can manage. “Okay.”

“Yeah,” he says, his gaze dropping to his hands on the steering wheel. “So.”

“So.”

You should go. You should thank him, get your stuff, and just go. But you can’t. You’re rooted to the spot, trapped by the weight of all the things you haven’t said. You look at him, really look at him. At the slope of his nose, the worried line of his lips, the way he’s rubbing at a spot on the steering well with his thumb—a nervous habit you’ve seen a thousand times. Your best friend. The boy you’ve known since you were both gangly, brace-faced seventh graders. The boy whose shoulder you cried on when your first dog died, the boy who helped you sneak out for your first high school party, the boy who knows all your secrets. Except the most important one. The one you were too scared to even admit to yourself.

"Ji," Water drips from your hair onto your lap. Without looking, you reach your hand across the vast space of the center console, palm up, fingers spread. "Will you hold my hand?"

He flinches, a tiny, almost imperceptible movement. His eyes flick from your outstretched hand to your face and back again, a war of emotions playing out in their depths. Anger, hurt, exhaustion, longing. He hesitates for a beat that feels like an eternity.

Then, slowly, he lifts his hand from the steering wheel and places it in yours. His palm is warm and a little damp. He doesn't lace his fingers through yours, just lets them rest there, a tentative, fragile connection. The contact sends a jolt through you, a current of warmth that chases away the chill that’s been living in your bones for a week.

You stare at your joined hands. His hand is bigger than yours, the fingers long and calloused in places from playing guitar. There's a small scar on his knuckle from when he tripped and fell trying to climb a tree to rescue your frisbee in tenth grade. You trace it with your thumb.

You take a shaky breath, the words bubbling up from a place you didn't know existed. "Forsan et haec olim meminisse juvabit."

He sucks in a sharp breath. You feel it more than hear it. He knows. Of course, he knows. It's Virgil. He looks at you then, really looks at you, and the anger in his eyes has finally dissipated, replaced by a profound, aching sadness.

"Maybe it will be a pleasure one day to remember even this," he translates. "Who's a pretentious little shit now?

A weak, watery laugh escapes your lips, half-sob. "Still you."

He huffs a small, humorless laugh. You take the opening with both hands. "Please don't go home."

"I have to."

"Why?"

"Because I can't do this," he says, his voice cracking. "I can't be around you and pretend it doesn't hurt."

"What hurts?"

His gaze is piercing, direct. "You know what hurts." His fingers tighten around yours, a desperate, pleading gesture. "You stand there and you tell me it's all just fun, but you jealous of a girl I was just walking to the door. You quote our poet to try and fix things after you shatter me. You're so goddamn confusing."

"I'm not confused." You snap. "I know what will happen if we do this, Jisung, I'm surprised that you don't."

"What happens? We get a happy ending? God for-fucking-bid."

"This is not a fairytale, Ji." You press. "I haven't ever seen a monogamous relationship last longer than three months. My parents have been cheating on each other for 20 years, yours are divorced, none of our friends have ever had a stable partnership."

"So what? Our failure is pre-determined because everyone else sucks?" He scoffs. "You use your parents as an excuse to not let anyone in. To not try for anything real."

"I am not using them as an excuse!" You pull your hand away from his, crossing your arms over your chest. "Why are you pushing for this so hard? Do you want to get your heart broken? Do you want to lose your best friend? Because that's what's going to happen. We're going to be miserable and then we're never going to be able to look at each other again."

"So what's the alternative?" He yells, his frustration boiling over. "We go back to being 'just friends'? We pretend this never happened? We ignore the fact that I am completely, head over heels in love with you? That I have been for ten years?"

The words hang in the air, heavy and suffocating. Ten years. Not months. Not since you started kissing. But ten years. Since you were awkward, brace-faced teenagers.

"I can't do that," he says, his voice dropping to a pained whisper. "I can't go back to pretending. So either we try, or we don't. And if we don't... then I do have to go home. Because I can't be your friend anymore."

The finality of it hits you like a physical blow. He's not threatening you. He's stating a fact. This is the ultimatum you never saw coming. It's not about sex or labels or even love, not really. It's about survival. He can't survive being near you like this. And you're not sure you can either.

"That's bullshit, Jisung, you can't make me choose, it's not fair." You say, your eyes are welling up with tears. This is the opposite of fun. This is messy and painful and it hurts.

"It's not fair to me to be in love with someone who will never love me back but won’t let me go."

You look at him, at the raw pain etched on his face. You think about all the times he's been there for you. All the times he's picked you up when you've fallen. All the times he's held your hand and told you it would be okay. You think about the tattoo on his ribs, Blessed. A blessing to understand the causes of things.

"I do love you." You say, the words feeling foreign and strange on your tongue.

He just stares at you, his expression unreadable. "No, you don't."

"Yes, I do."

"You don't even know what that word means."

"If you know that, then why do you want me to say it so bad?" You say, your voice raising again. "Why are you so determined to ruin this?"

"Ruin this?" He asks, incredulous. "This is already ruined! We've been ruining it for months! We've been tiptoeing around this thing, this massive, huge thing, and we've been slowly poisoning our friendship in the process. I'm not ruining it, I'm just the only one willing to admit that it's already on fucking fire!"

You can't take it anymore. The car feels too small, the air too thick. You fumble for the door handle, shoving it open and stumbling out into the drizzling rain. The water is cold on your skin, but it’s a welcome shock to your system.

You hear the click of his door opening and closing, and then his footsteps are splashing behind you. "Where are you going?" He calls out.

"Away from you!" You yell, not turning around.

You don't get far. He catches your arm, spinning you around to face him. You're both soaked now, your hair plastered to your faces, your clothes clinging to your skin. The rain is coming down harder again, but neither of you seems to notice.

"That's the problem!" He shouts, his face inches from yours. "You can't get away from me! And I can't get away from you! We're stuck!"

You're crying now, hot tears mingling with the cold rain on your cheeks. "Then what are we supposed to do?"

And then he's kissing you.

It's not like the other kisses. It's not fun or playful or tentative. It's desperate and angry and full of all the words you haven't been able to say. His lips are cold from the rain, but they're insistent, demanding. You kiss him back with just as much force, your hands tangling in his wet hair, pulling him closer. You're not thinking about the future or the past or the consequences. You're just thinking about him. About the feel of his body against yours, the taste of rain on his lips, the way he's holding you like he's afraid you're going to disappear.

Somehow, you make it back to your room. The keycard fumbles in your shaking hands, but you finally get the door open. You stumble inside, a trail of water and mud in your wake. The door slams shut behind you, cutting off the storm. You're a mess, dripping all over the floor, your clothes sopping.

He pushes you against the door, his body pinning yours, his lips finding yours again in the dim light of your room. His hands are everywhere, sliding under your wet shirt, his touch electric on your skin. You're both shaking, but it's not from the cold anymore.

"Jisung," you gasp against his mouth.

"Shut up," he murmurs, kissing you again. "Just shut up."

You don't argue. You let him silence you with his mouth, let the frantic energy of the argument transmute into a frantic, desperate need. This isn't about fun anymore. This is about claiming, about marking, about trying to bridge the chasm that has opened up between you with teeth and tongue and nails.

He rips your shirt over your head, the wet fabric catching briefly before it's discarded on the floor. His hands are on your skin, warm and firm, a stark contrast to the chill still clinging to you. He trails kisses down your neck, his teeth scraping against your pulse point, and you arch into him, a gasp tearing from your throat. Your hands fumble with the hem of his own soaked hoodie, pushing it up over his stomach, your fingers tracing the familiar, now-slick lines of his tattoo.

Blessed. The word screams in your mind. What a cruel, cosmic joke. This feels like a curse.

He shudders under your touch, lifting his arms so you can pull the hoodie and the t-shirt underneath off in one go. They land with a wet slap on the floor. He's beautiful. You've seen him shirtless a hundred times, at the pool, in your dorm, but it's never been like this. His chest is heaving, his skin glistening with rain and exertion. In the low light, the muscles in his arms and shoulders are starkly defined, a testament to the tension that's been riding him for weeks.

You want to devour him. You want to crawl inside his skin and stay there. The thought is terrifying.

He walks you backward, your bodies still pressed together, until your knees hit the edge of your bed. You fall back onto the mattress, pulling him down with you. He lands on top of you, his weight a welcome, grounding pressure. He pauses, propping himself up on his elbows, looking down at you. His hair is dripping onto your face, but you don't care. You just look at him, at the raw, open expression on his face. All the anger is gone, replaced by a desperate, aching need that mirrors your own.

"Are you sure?" he asks, his voice a low, rough rasp. "I need you to be sure."

You reach up, threading your fingers through the wet hair at the nape of his neck, and pull him down for another kiss. He lets you kiss him for a moment, a deep, slow kiss that feels like a surrender. Then he pulls back just enough to rest his forehead against yours.

"Words," he whispers.

The fear comes back, a cold snake coiling in your gut. Words are what got you into this mess. Words are what will define whatever happens next. But looking into his eyes, seeing the vulnerability and the hope warring there, you know you can't deny him. 

"Please," you breathe, the word barely a puff of air between you. "Please fuck me, Jisung"

It's not a declaration of love. It's not a promise of forever. It's raw, it's present, and it's the truest thing you can say in this moment.

A groan rips from his chest, a sound of pure, unadulterated relief. He kisses you again, hard and deep, and this time there's no holding back. His hands make quick work of the button on your jeans, and you lift your hips to help him pull them off. The rest of your clothes follow in a frantic, desperate tangle of limbs, until you're both naked, skin to skin, the heat of your bodies chasing away the last of the chill.

He touches you with a reverence you didn't expect. His hands map every inch of your skin, his lips following in their wake. He pays attention to the places that make you gasp, the places that make you shiver. He's not in a hurry anymore. He's savoring. He's learning.

He kisses his way down your body, his lips and tongue leaving a trail of fire. He lingers at the hollow of your throat, the dip of your navel, the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. You're trembling, a fine, constant shudder running through you. You're so lost in the sensation that you almost cry out when he finally, finally puts his mouth on you.

His tongue is soft and wet and impossibly skilled. He licks and sucks and teases, building a tension in you that's almost unbearable. You bury your fingers in his hair, holding him to you, your hips arching off the bed. He's relentless, pushing you higher and higher, until you're a writhing, whimpering mess.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers. "My god, look at you."

You can't form words, can only make a desperate, pleading sound. He chuckles, a low, vibrating sound that sends a new wave of pleasure through you. He slips two fingers inside you, curling them just right, and that's it. The tension in you snaps, and you come with a cry, your body convulsing with the force of it.

He doesn't stop. He works you through your orgasm, his tongue and fingers never ceasing their movements, drawing out the pleasure until it's almost painful. Just when you think you can't take anymore, the building starts again, slower this time, deeper. It’s a different kind of tension, coiling low in your belly.

You feel a brief, sharp sting as he sinks his teeth into the soft flesh of your inner thigh. You gasp, not from pain, but from the primal, possessive thrill of it. He soothes the bite mark with his tongue, a soothing, apologetic gesture, before returning to his ministrations. He's everywhere now, his broad shoulders holding your thighs open, one hand splayed across your stomach to hold you down, the other pumping into you with a steady, insistent rhythm. He's completely focused, his entire being concentrated on this one task, on giving you this one thing. The sounds he makes are obscene, wet, hungry sounds that make your cheeks burn with a mixture of embarrassment and intense arousal.

You're lost in a haze of sensation, your mind gone blank, your body no longer your own. You're just a collection of nerve endings, all firing at once, all screaming for him. It starts in your toes, a tingling warmth that spreads up your legs, through your torso, until it engulfs you completely. You're no longer in your room, in your bed. You're adrift in a sea of pleasure, and he is your only anchor. The world dissolves into a blinding, white-hot light, and you're dimly aware of your own voice crying out his name, a broken, desperate prayer.

When you finally come back to yourself, he's kissing his way back up your body, his movements slow, deliberate. He licks the sweat from your skin, tasting the salt of your exertion. He hovers over you, his face inches from yours, his eyes dark and intense. He's breathing hard, his chest heaving. You can feel the hard, hot length of him pressed against your thigh.

"You with me?" he asks, his voice a raw, husky whisper.

You can only manage a weak nod, your body still humming with the aftershocks.

He reaches out, gently brushing a strand of hair away from your sweat-slicked forehead. "You look so good when you come."

The words, so blunt, so Jisung, send a fresh jolt of heat through you. He kisses you then, a slow, deep kiss that tastes of you and of him and of the desperate, unspoken things between you. You can feel the desperation in him, the barely contained need. He wants you. He's wanted you for ten years. The thought is staggering.

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. "Jisung," you breathe, a plea and a permission all in one.

"Do you know how crazy you make me?" he murmurs against your lips. "How hard it's been to keep my hands to myself?"

"Then don't," you say, your voice surprisingly steady. "Don't keep your hands to yourself."

He laughs breathlessly. "I haven't been. Did you miss the part where I've been eating you out for the last half hour?"

You wriggle your hips, brushing against his and he bucks, a choked gasp escaping him. "Must've missed the part where you actually fucked me."

"Impatient," He positions himself at your entrance, the head of his cock nudging against you. He pauses, looking down at you, his expression a mixture of awe and terror. "Last chance to change your mind," he says, though you both know it's a lie. There's no going back now.

"Shut up, Jisung," you whisper, echoing his own words from earlier. And you pull him down for another kiss.

He enters you in one slow, steady thrust. You're so wet, so ready for him, that he slides in easily, but the stretch is still overwhelming. He fills you completely, a deep, satisfying ache that makes you feel whole in a way you haven't in a long, long time.

"Ohh, fuck," he moans, burying his face in your neck. "You feel… fuck."

You can't speak, can only hold on to him, your nails digging into the sweat-slick planes of his back. He starts to move, a slow, deliberate rhythm that's designed to unravel you. Each thrust is a question, a plea, a declaration.

You meet him thrust for thrust, your bodies moving in a perfect, primal rhythm. The room is filled with the sounds of your lovemaking—the slap of skin against skin, the wet sounds of your bodies joining, the broken moans and whispered words that are barely coherent but mean everything.

He shifts slightly, changing the angle, and he hits a spot inside you that makes you see stars. You cry out, your back arching off the bed. He takes it as encouragement, setting a harder, faster pace. One of his hands slides down your body, his thumb finding your clit, rubbing it in tight, insistent circles. The dual sensation is almost too much, a sensory overload that threatens to send you over the edge.

You'd wondered, idly, in the back of your mind, what this would be like. You knew he was experienced, had heard the whispers and seen the aftermath. A part of you, the petty, jealous part, had steeled itself for mediocrity. But this... this is something else entirely. He's attuned to your every response, every gasp and shudder, adjusting his movements to push you higher, to pull you apart. This isn't the clumsy fumbling of a college hookup. This is a masterclass, a symphony of sensation, and you're the unwilling, adoring audience. You understand now, with a clarity that's both thrilling and terrifying, why they always looked at him afterward like they'd just seen God. You're starting to feel it yourself.

He seems to know you're close, and he slows down, a torturous, deliberate withdrawal that leaves you empty and aching. He pulls out almost completely, leaving only the head of his cock inside you, then pushes back in, inch by agonizing inch. He does it again, and again, a slow, maddening tease that makes you want to scream. His thumb is still on your clit, a slow, maddening circle that keeps you balanced on the knife's edge of orgasm, never quite letting you fall.

"Look at me," he says, shuddering. "Look at me and I'll give you anything you want.”

You force your eyes open, meeting his intense, burning gaze. He's watching you, his expression a mixture of awe, possession, and a desperate, raw need that steals your breath. He's not just looking at your body, he's looking into your soul.

"Tell me what you need," he whispers. He slows to a stop, still inside you, his entire body a tense wire, waiting. He's giving you the reins.

You want to tell him to move, to fuck you hard and fast until you can't remember your own name. But the words get stuck in your throat. What you need is too big, too terrifying to say out loud. So you show him instead. You tighten your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, and you surge up to kiss him, pouring everything you can't say into the kiss.

He understands. He always understands.

He starts to move again, a slow, deep grind that sends shockwaves through you. He's hitting that spot again and again, a relentless, steady pressure that's building the tension in you to an unbearable peak. His thumb on your clit speeds up, circling faster, harder. You can feel your body tightening, coiling like a spring.

"That's it," he murmurs, his voice a low, encouraging rumble. "Let go for me. Come on."

The praise, the raw permission in his voice, is what finally breaks you. The spring snaps. Your orgasm crashes over you, a violent, all-consuming wave that rips a scream from your lungs. Your vision whites out, your body convulsing around him, clenching and releasing in a rhythm that's beyond your control. You're distantly aware of him groaning your name, a long, broken sound.

He rides you through it, his thrusts becoming erratic, losing their rhythm as he follows you over the edge. But at the last second, he pulls out. You have a brief, confused moment of emptiness before you see him kneeling between your legs, one hand braced on the mattress beside your head, the other working his cock in quick, tight strokes.

You watch, mesmerized, as he comes with a choked gasp, spilling over your stomach and chest. The sight is primal, shockingly intimate, and it sends a final, lingering tremor through you. He collapses beside you, both of you panting, your bodies slick with sweat and rain and him 

You feel him shift, and then a warm, damp cloth is gently wiping the mess from your skin. Your t-shirt, you realize dimly, that you’ve been wearing not too long ago. You're too exhausted to even be embarrassed, you just hum your appreciation. He tosses the shirt aside, then pulls you into his arms, tucking you against his chest. His heartbeat is a steady, reassuring thump against your ear.

He kisses your forehead, your eyelids, the tip of your nose. He kisses your cheeks, tasting the salt of your tears. He kisses your lips, a soft, lingering kiss that's full of a terrifying, fragile hope.

"I love you," he whispers into the darkness of your room. The words are quiet, but they land in the silence with the force of a shout. "I have always loved you."

Sleep is pulling at you, a warm, heavy blanket. You can feel the edges of your consciousness starting to blur. His arms are around you and you can feel his lips on the tip of your nose, your lips, your jaw. He's warm. He smells like rain. He's not going to leave. It's all you've wanted for a week. It's all you've ever wanted, really.

"You won't leave, will you?" The words leave your lips in a mumble, your lashes fluttering. "You won't go back home?" You're too tired to be anything but honest.

There's a pause. "If you ask me to stay," he says, "I won't leave."

You open your eyes, heavy as they are, to look at him. You want to say it. The words are right there, a phantom weight on your tongue. Stay. Please stay. I'll love you. I'll love you the way you want me to. But your body betrays you. Your eyes drift shut, your breathing evens out. Sleep claims you, pulling you down into its warm, silent depths before you can give him the answer he's waiting for.

Jisung has watched you sleep for the last ten minutes. He has memorized the gentle slope of your nose, the way your eyelashes fan out against your cheeks, the soft, even puff of your breath against his chest. He has counted the faint freckles scattered across your shoulders. He has memorized all of it, and it feels like a goodbye.

He shouldn't have said it. Not like that. Not in the aftermath, when you were soft and pliant and half-asleep. He had promised himself he wouldn't. He had sworn he'd wait, that he'd be patient, that he wouldn't pressure you. But then you were underneath him, your eyes wide and trusting, your body opening for him, and the words had just… ripped out of him. An uncontrollable truth.

If you ask me to stay, I won't leave.

He waits.

He waits for you to stir, for your eyes to flutter open, for the words to come. Stay. He can almost hear it, your sleep-roughened voice. The thought is a physical ache in his chest. He imagines the relief, the pure, unadulterated joy that would flood him, the feeling of finally, finally coming home.

But you don't stir.

The minutes tick by, each one a small death. He can hear the sound of the rain outside your window, a soft, steady rhythm against the glass. He can hear the hum of the mini-fridge in the corner of your room. He can hear the frantic, desperate beating of his own heart. He thinks about the way your body shook around him, the way you whispered his name. He thinks about the taste of your skin, the feel of your hands in his hair. He thinks about all of it, and he knows he can't stay.

And that's an answer, too.

He has loved you like a dog his entire life, all he's ever wanted was to sit by your side, to eat your scraps, to just be near you. But being your dog, your constant companion is no longer enough. He can't sit at your feet and hope for a pat on the head while you look at someone else. Not anymore.

It was selfish of him to do this. To fuck you, to push you, to demand more than you were willing to give. He can see that now, in the quiet, grey light of the morning. He has just made everything a thousand times worse. He has taken your carefully constructed world, your "fun," and he has detonated it.

He can't stay and pretend that everything is okay. He can't stay and be your friend. He can't stay and watch you fall in love with someone else. He can't do any of it. He is a coward, he knows, but it's the truth. He has to leave.

Careful, so careful, he slides his arm out from under your head. You stir, a soft sigh, and your brow furrows, but you don't wake. He eases himself off the bed, his movements slow and deliberate, trying not to disturb the mattress, trying not to break the fragile spell of your sleep. His clothes are a damp, muddy pile on the floor. He gathers them up, pulling on his jeans with a wince. The denim is cold and stiff against his skin. He doesn't bother with the shirt, just balls it up in his hand.

He stands by the bed for a long moment, just looking at you. You look so peaceful, so unguarded. It's the most vulnerable he's ever seen you. He wants to crawl back into bed with you, to pull you into his arms and never let go. He wants to wake you up and demand that you choose him, that you choose this.

Instead, he leans down and presses a soft, gentle kiss to your forehead. He turns and walks out of your room, closing the door behind him.

He doesn't look back.

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.

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, @binniebb, @clairementsolo, @nclabels, @genuinelybrittleidol , @parkthothwa8, @daphnnie, @hyunnjynn, @sagetakami, @hanniesbubuwife, @hycnsung, @matzduo, @hwang97janet,

the bass from downstairs rattled the cheap picture frames hanging on the hallway walls. the smell of cigarettes and cheap liquor was strong, making your head feel lighter. laughter echoed from every corner of the house.

but none of it held your attention for long because your eyes were fixed on han jisung. 

he stood across the beer pong table with that stupid, cocky smile you wanted to wipe off his face, lazily rolling the ping pong ball between his fingers while the crowd around you shouted over one another. 

the grin on his face only widened before he tossed you the ball with an easy flick of his wrist, leaning back against the wall behind him, completely relaxed.

“last cup, baby,” he called, loud enough for everyone nearby to hear. “you miss, you drink. make me proud and don’t miss your shot, jagi.”

his words were dripping with teasing flirtation, making you roll your eyes. even if the heat in your lower abdomen just kept building every time your eyes locked in his.

“you’re so annoying, hannie,” you teased, giggling at his offended expression. 

you glanced down at the ball, turning it between your fingers while focusing on the last red cup sitting alone at the opposite end of the table. 

and maybe it was the alcohol buzzing pleasantly through your system or the way jisung kept looking at you with that smug expression. either way, your thoughts felt hazy.

before taking the shot, your gaze drifted across the room, landing immediately on christopher. 

he was sprawled across one of the couches with a drink in his hand, surrounded by half the fraternity. one arm rested along the back of the couch, his legs spread comfortably, messy blond hair falling into his eyes. 

he’d been watching the entire game, his eyes never leaving you. he tilted his head slightly, that lazy smile on his face making your heart skip a beat. 

“watch this,” you mouthed, knowing he would read your lips.

without hesitating, your wrist snapped forward. the ball arced cleanly across the table before dropping straight into the center cup, beer splashing over the rim. 

the crowd roared behind you. one of your friends threw an arm around your shoulders before practically lifting you off the floor, laughing like you’d just won a championship instead of a stupid drinking game. 

before you could even catch your breath, jisung’s hand was wrapped gently around your wrist, pulling you out of the whole crowd. 

“c’mon, let’s get out of here,” he murmured, leaning close enough for only you to hear. “there’s less people upstairs.” 

you laughed, breathless. you knew damn well neither of you had any intention of talking. he intertwined his fingers with yours and started leading you toward the staircase before anyone could stop you. 

and right before disappearing into the hallway, you looked back, searching for christopher. as always, he was already looking at you with one eyebrow raised. 

you tipped your head toward the second floor, blinking with a flirtatious smirk on your face. the corner of his mouth lifted in that slow, knowing way that always made your knees feel loose. 

he barely nodded, letting you know that the message was received. 

the music faded with every step upstairs. the hallway felt strangely quiet compared to the chaos below, the music little more than a muffled thump beneath your feet. 

some doors were slightly open while others were locked, giving you a vague idea of what could be happening there. neither of you paid them much attention. 

with little grace, jisung pushed open the first empty room he found and slipped you inside after him. you kicked the door shut behind you, the loud slam echoing through the hallway. 

the second the door shut you were on him.

your mouths crashed, wet and urgent. jisung groaned into the kiss like he’d been starving for it all night, teeth catching your lower lip, sucking hard enough to sting, the sound vibrating against your tongue.

everything felt desperate, needy. his hands shoved under your top without ceremony, palms burning against your skin, sliding up your ribs until his thumbs pressed into the soft underside of your breasts.

“slow down, ji,” you mumbled against his mouth, a shaky smirk on your lips. your voice was already fading away, panting for air.

but he didn’t waste time.

jisung bent, palms sliding under your tights and lifting you like you weighed nothing. a small whimper slipped from your lips at the sudden movement, your legs wrapping around his waist on instinct, ankles locking at the small of his back.

the thick, clothed line of his cock pressed hard against your cunt through his jeans, the pressure relentless. you began to feel impatient, your hands roaming along his back, scratching loosely.

your body hit the wall, the impact forcing a whimper from your throat. jisung rolled his hips, slow and deliberate, grinding the rigid length against you, gasping and groaning obscenities. the friction dragging low moans and whines out of you, your thighs trembling around him.

“fuck, you’re driving me crazy. been staring at you all night,” he muttered, biting the side of your neck hard enough to make you whine. “let’s do something about it, yeah?”

with a grin on his face, he carried you to the bed and dropped you onto the mattress. the springs squeaked under your weight, bouncing. you pushed up onto your elbows just in time to see him crawling over you, eyes dilated.

he yanked his shirt off and tossed it aside, careless. his hands were quickly at your top, dragging it up and off, gaze dropping to watch the way your tits moved with the motion.

he reached for your bra next, fingers hooking the straps and pulling them down your arms in one slow drag. with a smooth motion he unhooked the clasp, throwing your bra far, far away.

both of you were breathing hard. you reached for the back of his neck and dragged him down into another kiss, messy and deep. jisung groaned against your mouth, the sound raw.

“fuck this,” he panted. “come here, baby.”

his mouth was on your tits before you could catch your breath. your face scrunched when he sucked one of your nipples, his tongue flicking fast and erratic, teeth scraping just enough to make your back arch.

“you sound so pretty,” he said, voice muffled against your breast. “wanna hear more of it.”

his free hand squeezed the other breast, thumb rolling over the stiff peak while his hips ground down on your crotch, seeking more friction. you could easily feel how hard he was, the thick ridge of him dragging against your cunt through too many annoying layers.

“ji- shit… please, s-slow down,” you breathed, finger twisting into his hair. your voice sounded broken, eyes blurred.

he left your breast with a short pop, leaving a deep, fast kiss on your lips before switching sides, sucking even harder. the wet sounds his mouth filled the small room.

you moaned loudly, biting your lower lip when you felt his free hand slide down your stomach, popping the button on your shorts and shoving inside. he dragged two fingers above your soaked panties, the warmth sending a sick thrill through him.

“mmmh- stop teasing,” you begged, your wet eyes looking at his.

“y’know your wish is my command, baby.”

he shoved his hand inside your panties right away, finding you already slick when he dragged his fingers through your folds. the amusement and arousal painted across his face.

it was too much, he couldn’t hold back any longer. 

he bit his lip before pushing two fingers in without warning. you moaned and whimpered loudly, hips jerking up to meet his fast paced thrusts.

jisung cupped one of your tits in his hand, pinching and rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. his cock throbbing inside his pants, screaming for attention.

“already this wet? we’ve barely started,” he teased, a pout on his lips. he pumped his fingers faster, curling them on every pull. “chris’s gonna lose his fucking mind when he feels this.”

and like you had summoned him, the door clicked open.

unbothered, jisung looked over his shoulder. that wide heart-shaped smile growing on his face when he found christopher closing the door behind him with deliberate calm, leaning back against it. your cunt clenched around jisung’s fingers, expectantly.

christopher’s eyes traveled over the scene: your bare chest, jisung’s fingers still buried inside you, the small tears threatening to roll down your cheeks any minute now. he smirked slowly, hungry.

“started without me,” he noticed, tilting his head. his eyes fixed on you.

you lifted your head, voice hoarse. “thought you’d never get here...”

his smile sharpened at your words. he pushed off the door and crossed the room quickly. his hand found jisung’s shoulder, squeezing once, firm, before sliding down to cup your face, squeezing your cheeks.

“missed you too, baby,” he left a peck on your swollen lips.

jisung pulled his fingers free with a wet sound, sitting back on his heels with his chest heaving. a satisfied grin on his shiny, wet lips. both of you looked at christopher when he stripped his own shirt off, revealing his toned chest.

he approached the bed with a couple strides, immediately reaching for your shorts, yanking them down your legs along with your panties in one smooth, fast motion.

jisung drooled at the view of your naked body, his hand caressing his crotch, feeling the sick urgency of being buried inside you. 

“want you on your knees. now,” his tone left no room for argument.

you slid off the bed eagerly, obedient. christopher sat on the edge of the mattress, legs spread. he tugged you between his open legs, unbuttoning his jeans and freeing his cock with ease.

it was already hard, thick, and flushed, the head glistening. you felt your mouth watering at the obscene sight. he wrapped a hand around the base, jerking it lazily with a smile on his face, his eyes never leaving yours.

his hand went to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, tapping the tip of his cock against your lower lip teasingly. your cheeks flushed violently at the shameless action.

“open your mouth, pretty girl,” he demanded, his fingers tangling in your hair. “want you to take it all.”

and you did without hesitation, desperate for the feeling of him fucking your mouth until your brain melts.

your eyes sparkled with excitement when his cock slid slowly inside, letting you feel every inch until the head nudged the back of your throat. the full feeling lit you on fire, the heat on your lower abdomen bursting.

“there you go,” he cooed, his thumb stroking your cheek. “just like that, good job.”

you watched him nod to jisung, who was almost in a trance watching the scene developing in front of him.

you could hear him unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans behind you, his warm hands brushing along your back until his fingers dug down on your hips, possessive.

a sharp inhale left you when he dragged you backwards until your ass was pressed against his dick. his hands caressed your thighs, pushing them apart gently, barely holding himself together when he saw your entrance willing for him and only him.

“gonna fuck you while you suck him,” jisung purred, voice bright and filthy. “ready for that, pretty girl?”

a small nod was all he needed. you sobbed aggressively when jisung’s blunt head nudged your soaked, slippery hole. losing your mind every time his free hand squeezed your ass, licking his lower lip.

jisung sank deeper, thrusting in hard until he felt the flushed head of his cock poking your cervix harshly. the stretch punched a moan out of you that vibrated around christopher’s length, making him hiss with pleasure.

“god… look at you. bet you’re dying for me to come in your mouth,” christopher hummed, smiling smugly. his grip on your hair tighter.

you nodded too quickly, too desperately. hollowing your cheeks, you shoved forward onto his cock, not stopping until your nose brushed the trimmed hair at his base. he petted your hair delicately, gripping your hair hard to guide your head in short, deep, controlled thrusts that matched jisung’s pace.

his hips stuttered, your gagging noises arousing him even more. the warm, slick feeling of your mouth sucking his length so eagerly dragging groans and whines out of him. he wouldn’t last any longer if you kept doing it this good.

“y-yeah, eyes on me, pretty girl,” he panted, biting his lower lip, frowning. “wanna see your cute face when i come in your mouth.”

your eyes were pinned on his aroused expression, fighting the urge to roll them back with every stimulus both of them gave you.

some tears started to fall down your cheeks when his thrusts began quicker, chasing his own orgasm now.

his hand gripped on the bedsheets under him, shutting his eyes tight when he started spilling into your mouth. hot pulses hit the back of your throat, making you choke with the big load that was sliding down it.

“shit- wanna see you swallow it,” he whined, releasing the grip on your hair slowly and pulling out his dick with a soft pop.

you did it, swallowing all of it with effort until there was nothing left. you opened your mouth shakily, peeking your tongue out for him. and christopher could just come right there just from that obscene image of you.

and even when you started panting for air, jisung didn’t let you catch a break at all.

the slow thrusts he maintained for a while started to grow a brutal pace, hips slapping against your ass, making it recoil. his smirk growing at the wet sound of your cunt taking him loud and obscene.

“mmh- so tight. made for my dick,” he panted, slapping your ass twice, making you cry loudly. “you must like being used like this, huh?” his voice was lewd, nasty. “our little frat house toy.”

his words hit somewhere deep and hot inside you, making your cunt clench around his cock even tighter. he reached around to rub your clit in tight circles, his fingers were relentless, slick with your arousal. the sensation of his cock pounding into you quickly unraveling you.

christopher caressed your face, shoving his thumb inside your parted mouth. your eyes darted at him, half-lidded.

“look at you, dripping down his cock already,” he mocked, drinking in every inch of your face.

“oh shit- you’re milking me so fucking hard,” jisung huffed, giggling breathless at your broken, incoherent moans. “be good and come for me, baby.”

your eyes rolled back when his pace became even wilder, messier. it was almost animalistic, making you whimper with each deep, erratic thrust. 

“it’s- s’too much, jisung…” you cried, your face scrunched, drooling over christopher’s fingers. “fuck, feel so full… mmh- so, so c-close...”

his free hand slid up your spine and fisted in your hair, pulling your head back further until your throat was exposed. he leaned in, leaving some open-mouthed kisses and sucking your skin before his teeth scraped the shell of your ear.

your legs went numb when your orgasm hit sharp and sudden, thighs shaking, a broken sound tearing out of your abused, sore throat. your whole body was shaking, your hands closed into fists while your head dropped down, shut your wet eyes close.

and jisung fucked you through it, his pace never faltering, until your cunt stopped fluttering around him. his hands brushing your back, soothing you until you came back from your high.

“oh shit-” his legs jerked, hips chasing you. “gonna cum inside you, fuck- you’re milking me…” he babbled, whispering low on your ear.

his whole body was shaking, overstimulated, his only thought being the feeling of your pussy gripping him desperately, completely soaked. his hands went to your tits, squeezing them and using them as support.

his cock twitched helplessly inside you, pulsing as he spilled deep inside you. his fingers dug into your breasts hard enough to leave red marks on them. it was messy, you could feel it leaking down your thighs already.

“you did a good job,” christopher praised, his voice warm, soothing. “shower’s down the hall. we’ll clean you up.”

jisung pressed a kiss on your cheek, way softer now, while pulling out of you gently. a wicked smile across his face when he saw the mess he created between your legs. he ran a hand through his sweaty hair, sighing loudly.

“then… we can go home and do whatever you want,” he blinked, sticking his tongue out a little, teasing.

you laughed, hoarse, and let them pull you upright between them after getting dressed up again. christopher’s arm stayed around your waist while jisung’s fingers laced through yours.