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perv!boyfriend!chan who ‘forgets’ to do the laundry when you ask him, just so he can watch you prance around in practically nothing, all plush thighs and pretty curves he wants to get lost in

perv!boyfriend!chan who’s the perfect gentleman and always insists you walk up the stairs in front of him, but really he’s just trying to steal a glance under your cute little skirt

perv!boyfriend!chan who likes how inexperienced you are. he gets off on being the first one to touch you, the first one to see your pretty eyes stare up at him as he makes a mess of your cunt, the first one to make you crave cock so much you don’t know what to do with yourself when you don’t get it

perv!boyfriend!chan who lets you play with his dick for hours on end, no matter how sensitive or swollen he is - fisting his thick cock in lazy strokes as your tongue laps and presses down on the fat tip - all the while he’s muttering sweet words in your ears, saying so much, just about anything to keep himself from cumming so soon. “that’s it baby, doing so well for me. just keep your eyes on me,” starting to fuck his hips up in time with your hand when you do, loving the sweet doe eyed look on your face as you jerk him off

perv!boyfriend!chan who insists that you sit on his lap on movie nights with the boys, even though there’s plenty of other empty spots, just to shallowly grind his dick against your ass the entire time, burying his head in the crook of your neck to muffle his whimpers - hoping the movie is loud enough that the others can’t hear him

perv!boyfriend!chan who records you while you’re taking his cock. he always says you look so pretty underneath him, cunt stuffed full and lashes wet with tears. he jerks himself off to the footage when he’s on tour, fisting his cock with your name dangling from his lips and your pussy on his mind

perv!boyfriend!chan who gets a little carried away. he doesn’t know how to control himself whenever you let him between your legs - sniffing and lapping lewdly at your clit without even bothering to take your underwear off first, causing the fabric to stick uncomfortably against your soaked cunt. but he doesn’t seem to mind, pushing the stupid thing aside to nuzzle his nose between your folds, teeth nipping on your bud and tongue slobbering so shamelessly into your pussy that he has you whimpering and whining and covering your face in embarrassment. he just gets so fucking pussy drunk so quickly

perv!boyfriend!chan who cums too fast and too much. he gets a little overwhelmed when he’s inside you, sitting you pretty on his dick and fucking up into you so deep and raw that it has you clawing at his arms and arching in his hold, falling limp against his chest and he just uses it as an opportunity to handle you by the hips, lifting you up just to sink you back down onto his cock - deep, slow thrusts that have you drooling into the crook of his neck. he becomes real sloppy and nasty the closer he is to cumming, cursing underneath his breath and eyes pinned to where you’re connected, watching the way your cunt struggles to take his cock, each grind of his dick becoming sloppier until he’s making a complete mess of your pussy, sticky and warm and dripping down your thighs. he also likes to hump his softened cock back into you, your tired whines only fuelling him on even more. “shhh my sweet girl, i know you can take more.”

perv!boyfriend!chan who has an obsession with your panties - he uses them to jerk himself off, his cock settling heavily on the pretty pink fabric, soaking through the cotton where your pussy has once been. he feels so guilty afterwords too, scratching the back of his neck and refusing to meet your eyes when you offhandedly notice your underwear drawer getting smaller and smaller with each passing day - knowing fine rightly he has them stuffed under his pillow back at the dorm, stained heavily with cum

perv!boyfriend!chan who likes watching you get yourself off. the cute way you huff and puff cause your fingers just aren’t the right size, can’t stretch you out in ways that has you seeing stars and your pussy just itching for something thicker to fill you up. but he likes to make you work for it, tells you how deep to go, when to add another finger, telling you how well you’re doing and how he’s gonna give you his dick soon if you continue being good for him. wants you to admit that you want him

perv!boyfriend!chan who has no problem grovelling if he has to. he’ll beg, plead, be in damn near tears if you deny him your pussy, laying between your legs and fingers hooking around the band of your panties when you continue to ignore him, nuzzling into the soft skin of your thigh as he ruts his sore and lonely cock against the mattress of the bed, looking up at you so desperate it nearly has you giving in. “please baby, jus’ one taste. jus’ one taste and i’ll leave you alone.”

 i can definitely see this happening while they’re at the academy together. jeongin is all shy and trying to be polite towards you, but he can’t help that everytime he even looks at you, he just gets so hard. 

and one night, you’re at a party with him, you’re a little bit tipsy, and when you see he’s looking all sad on one of the couches, you sit down next to him. you’re being all touchy, which is driving him crazy, and when you straddle his lap, only teasingly of course, he just can’t help but get painfully hard. 

you two are making out, a little desperately, tongues and teeth colliding, when you feel innie’s hands grasp at your hips. he bucks up against you, and you’re wearing such a short skirt that he can feel your panties rubbing against his thigh, and you’re absolutely soaking. he can’t really believe it, and when he looks down, he sees a wet patch where you were grinding against him. 

this sends him over the edge, he’s so hard, hands roaming your back, dancing against your smooth skin, his lips are peppering kisses down your neck. you guys begin to grind against each other, your clothed pussy rubbing against his boner, edging your way towards your conclusion. 

he almost can’t believe it- how you’re rutting pathetically against his crotch, determined to get yourself off. jeongin is embarrassingly close, grunting as he sucks a hickey into your neck. he feels that the alcohol has made him more confident, but not enough to tell you that he wants to bend you over and bury his cock deep inside of you. 

and when you moan his name, feeling yourself come undone against him, he can’t help himself. he feels his load spurt in his pants, soaking through his underwear and leaving an embarrassing stain across the fabric. you smile, because you had the biggest crush on him, and now he’s underneath you. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you look… unreal.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he swallows hard, audibly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“then don’t keep me waiting”

and that’s all it takes. 

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

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

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

“you’re the one doing that”, you say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“come here”, he says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

silence settles.

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

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

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

you’re ready.

and that’s when the door opens again. 

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

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

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

you raise an eyebrow, “excuse me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“facts like what?”

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

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

you scoff, but your breath catches.

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

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

you roll your eyes, but your pulse betrays you.

“sure, keep telling yourself that”

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

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

“big words, minho”

his eyes flick to your mouth.

“prove them wrong”, he whispers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“never”

“liar”

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

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

“i’m not ruined”, you say.

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

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

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

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

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

he laughs, “adorable”

“i hate you”, you lie.

“no, you don’t”

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

“rest up, you’re gonna need it”

you roll your eyes weakly, “fuck off”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you offer the smallest smile, tilting your head.

“hi, innie”

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

“you look… you look incredible”

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

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

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

almost.

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

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

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

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

he obeys instantly. 

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

“you okay?”, you smirk softly.

he lets out a tiny, embarrassed laugh.

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

“me?”, you blink.

he nods, his eyes flicking away for a moment.

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

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

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

“yes”, his breath trembles.

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

 “... yes”, his cheeks flush deeper.

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

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

good.

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

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

jeongin’s eyes darken, wide and wanting.

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

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

“like a good boy”

the sound he makes is soft, needy, involuntary.

you smile, then you finally kiss him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“k-keep going, jeongin, p-please”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“wait”, he says softly.

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

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

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

he pauses, blinking, “i did?”

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

his cheeks tint pink immediately, “i-”

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

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

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

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

he lifts his head just enough to look at you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“you think the others heard us?”

his ears go red instantly. 

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

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

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

“you love it”

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

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

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

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

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

“hi”, he says softly.

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

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

“you’re in a good mood”

“of course i am”, he grins.

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

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

“yeah”, he admits easily, “we did”

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

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

“you did?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

his eyes brighten immediately, “yeah?”

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

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

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

“you were really good”, you say.

he scoffs softly, “you’re biased”

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

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

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

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

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

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

you raise a brow.

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

you laugh, biting your lip as he laughs too.

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

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

four.

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

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

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

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

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

but you’re smiling.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

his brows lift, “what do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

he smirks, “you doubting me?”

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

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

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

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

“only with you”

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

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

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

maybe you do.

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

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

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

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

“told you”, he murmurs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“hey”, he says softly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he scoffs lightly, trying to appear mad but smiling. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

and then the door opens again.

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

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

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

“wow”, he says softly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“hey”, he says, “come on, talk to me”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you meet his eyes and his expression softens completely.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“dangerous ones”, you add.

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

“come here”, he says.

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

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

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

“i didn’t say anything”

“you didn’t have to”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“hey”, he says.

“hi, bin”

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

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

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

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

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

“okay, good, just wanted to make sure”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he pulls back just enough to look at you.

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

another kiss, deeper now, claiming you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“okay”, you whisper, your voice breathy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“changbin! oh god-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“a-all yours, bin”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“so good... my good girl…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

chan.

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

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

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

it steals the breath right out of your lungs.

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

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

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

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

oh, and he’s completely naked.

“hey”, he says.

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

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

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

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

you nod, a small smile tugging at your lips. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“right. my turn now”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“you take me so well, baby, squeezing me like that” 

the words push you higher, the build starting again but fiercer this time. as your orgasm gets closer, your breaths coming in pants, your legs wobbling under you, he shifts, his hands dropping to grip your thighs, lifting one leg first, then the other, wrapping them around his waist. you lock your ankles behind him, the new angle letting him sink even deeper, his cock bottoming out with every snap of his hips. 

“fuck, c-chris, harder, please!”, you beg him, your head thrown back against the wall, your nails raking down his back as he picks up speed, pounding into you faster, the friction on your clit from his pelvis grinding against you with each thrust.

“that’s it, beg for me”, he says, his voice strained, his lips brushing your neck, “such a good girl, so tight and desperate. gonna make you come so hard” 

“yes, chris, don't stop… f-fuck me!”, your voice breaking on sobs of pleasure.

your orgasm looms closer, your walls clenching around his length, but just as it teeters on the brink, he stops again. buried deep, he stills completely, his hips flush against yours, and you groan in frustration, your tears falling again now. 

“no- chris, not again, please, i can’t- i need to come, fuck, don’t do this!”, you say, grinding desperately against him, but he doesn’t budge, his cock twitching inside you but not moving.

“shh, baby, i’ve got you”, he soothes you, capturing your lips in a tender kiss that contrasts his denial, his tongue gentle as he hushes your whimpers. 

one hand strokes your hair, the other supporting your weight as he begins to walk towards the bed, still inside you, every shift sending sparks through your oversensitive nerves. you cling to him, your legs tight around his waist, moaning into his mouth at the friction of him moving within you without thrusting.

he reaches the bed, lowering you both down without pulling out, your back hitting the soft sheets as he settles between your thighs. the mattress dips under his weight, and as soon as you’re lying down, he starts again, thrusting deep and hard, the pace even more punishing now. 

“i’m gonna make you come now”, he growls, propping himself on one elbow while his other hand slips between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit and circling it firmly. 

his cock slamming into you, hitting that spot inside, and his thumb pressing your swollen clit shatter the last of your control. you scream his name, your body arching off the bed as waves crash over you, your cunt spasming around him in violent pulses. 

“chris o-oh fuck” 

the orgasm rips through you, intense and unrelenting, and he doesn’t stop, fucking you through it, his fingers rubbing faster on your clit until you squirt, hot liquid gushing between you, soaking his hand and the sheets beneath. he groans loudly, the sight and feel pushing him over the edge, his thrusts erratic as he comes with you, his cock pulsing as he fills you with thick spurts of cum. 

“fuck… take it all, baby, that’s it”, he grunts, burying his face in your neck, marking you with a final bite as your shared release leaves you both trembling, screaming into each other’s skin.

he collapses over you with a low, shaky breath, his weight warm and grounding as the moment finally breaks. the only sound in the room is the sound of both of you trying to catch your breath. his forehead drops to your shoulder, his chest rising and falling against yours.

“hey”, he says after a second, lifting his head just enough to look at you, his thumb brushing your cheek, gentle now, “you good?”

you nod, still a little dazed, your eyes soft as you look back at him. 

“yeah”, you breathe, “i’m good, chris, don’t worry”

he lets out a small, fond laugh, pressing a slow kiss to your lips, then another to your temple. 

“you did amazing”, he says quietly, “not just with me. all of it. but i need to make sure you’re really okay”

the care in his voice makes your chest tighten. you reach up, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him down for another kiss. eventually, he shifts, careful as he slips out of you, his cum trickling down your thigh, and you feel just how sensitive you are when the air hits your skin. you hiss softly, and he freezes immediately.

“sorry”, he says, already moving again, “stay there”

he disappears for a moment and comes back with a towel, his movements slow and attentive as he helps you clean up. you flinch once or twice despite yourself, and each time he pauses, murmuring apologies, pressing light kisses to your knee, your stomach, anywhere he can reach.

“all done”, he says softly when he finishes, brushing his thumb over your hip, “it’s over now”

you don’t answer, you just look at him, your eyes tired and a little glassy, and pull him down for another kiss. he smiles into it, kissing you back just as gently. you try to shift, to sit up, and immediately sink back into the mattress with a laugh. 

“wow”, you say, “okay, yeah, not happening”

he laughs too, straightening as he pulls on his boxers. 

“i warned you”, he says, amused, “you weren’t going to be walking right away”

he leans down once more, brushing your hair back from your face, his thumb tracing your jaw. 

“we’ll be outside”, he tells you, “no rush, take your time. just come when you’re ready, okay?”

you hum softly in response, your eyes drifting closed for a moment. he gives you one last look and then heads for the door. it closes quietly behind him, leaving you alone again, stretched out on the bed, your body spent, staring at the ceiling, letting it all wash over you.

all of it.

every voice, every touch, every orgasm. the realisation settles in, almost unreal at first. you’ve had sex with all of them. every single one. the weight of that thought makes your chest feel hot and tight at the same time.

your body is exhausted. deliciously, bone-deep tired. your muscles ache in an extremely overstimulated way, your skin feels too sensitive for fabric, for air. and yet, underneath the fatigue, there’s something else still burning - a low, persistent pull that refuses to fade.

a craving.

this wasn’t supposed to go this far.

this started as curiosity, a joke that lingered in the air. then than first time, the boundaries blurred, shifted. and then one thing led to another, and suddenly here you are, having crossed every line you once thought was solid.

and now that you’ve stepped over it… you don’t want to step back.

you push yourself up slowly, pausing when your legs can’t even carry your own body. it takes a moment before you can fully stand, one hand braced against the bed as you steady yourself. when you finally move, it’s careful, step by step, your legs wobbling a bit.

you pull on a t-shirt and slip into your panties without much thought. modesty feels pointless now, they’ve seen every part of you, touched every inch. there’s nothing left to hide, and there’s nothing you want to hide.

you stop in front of the mirror one last time before leaving your room and you barely recognise yourself, not because you look different, but because of the way you’re standing. the way your eyes hold something new, confident, aware, hungry. 

you step out into the hallway, the air cooler, the house quiet, except for the low voices in the living room. with every step towards the living room, that feeling grows stronger, a pull you don’t fight. you don’t want to stop this, you don’t want today to be the end of whatever this has become.

when you enter the living room, they’re all there.

spread out, relaxed but alert. familiar silhouettes, familiar faces, watching you the second you appear. the room is thick with the aftermath of what they’ve done, heard, felt, imagined while waiting. you see their faces. you see their bodies. their boxers can’t lie.

their eyes track you openly and in that instant, you see it. the same thing that’s been sitting heavy in your chest all along. they feel it too.

you stop in the middle of the room, your heart thudding, the silence stretching just long enough to make it unbearable. and then you speak, your voice steady despite everything buzzing beneath your skin.

“i don’t want to end this here”

and the way they look at you - open, wanting, dark eyes gleaming with hunger - tells you everything you need to know.

maybe you don’t have to stop.

event masterlist | the library

likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated 💛

divider by the amazing @lariesographic 💖

your current situation, however, was not one of those perks. this was one of the few downsides of your otherwise perfect boyfriend. when he was really into a game, you faded into the background. and usually you would be okay with that, finding one of your hobbies to busy yourself with. but you weren’t okay with that right now — not at all. because you were so needy and had been for hours. you had been good, had kept yourself controlled for as long as you could, but now your desires were ravenous. and felix was still enthralled by league, all the while you were trying not to fall apart.

that would simply have to change.

“lixie,” you whine, bending down to rest your chin on his shoulder. 

“hm?” 

he turned his head to peck your cheek, and that was that. just as quickly as you had gotten his attention and affection, you had lost it. his focus was back on the screen in front of him.

“felix,” you say more sternly now, and he notices your tone change instantly. this time, he pulls one side of his headset back to hear you clearly. 

“what’s wrong, angel?” he asks, concerned, still clicking away. even the sound of his mouse and keyboard was aggravating you at this point, the noises mocking you. reminding you that they had his attention currently, not you. you had nearly soaked through your panties and all he cared about was ranking up. poor you.

your fingers danced along his shoulder and neck, tracing an especially dark mark you’d left the night before. it was impossible to miss the way his breath hitched just a little, the sudden touch luring him out of his virtual world for a moment. 

“i need you,” you whisper. feeling emboldened, your lips meet his neck, leaving only featherlight kisses for now. after all, it’s a little difficult with his clunky headset in the way. he lets his eyes flutter closed briefly, until he remembers he’s still very much in the middle of a game. a game he would probably lose if he didn’t stay locked in. 

“after this game, okay baby?” he reassures, as if he hadn’t said that two other times already. how many more “last games” could there possibly be before he’d realize how desperate you were for him? you weren’t sure, and you didn’t want to find out; you’d have to take matters into your own hands.

when you kneel down beside his chair, felix looks over, curious. then, he smiles at you —  actually smiles at you, like what you’re planning is anything innocent. you’re certain he likely thinks you’re just going to watch him play, the same way you’ve done many times before. usually you’d bring over a chair or something more comfortable than the floor, but he doesn’t question it. 

“you wanna watch?” he hums, confirming your thoughts. 

in response, you crawl under the desk, situating yourself on your knees right between his legs. “no. i wanna play.”

there’s not much space, but enough for you to work with. you lift one of your hands to rest on his thigh, acting as support for you to lean forward. and when you do, you use your other hand to rub his cock through his shorts, soft circles to start. 

his breathy whimper is your encouragement, until his eyes drop to yours and he grabs your wrist, stifling your movements. 

“angel, my game’s almost over, i promise,” he sighs. “then i’ll be all yours. i’ll give you whatever you want.”

you free your wrist from his grip — proof enough that he wasn’t trying that hard to stop you — and resume your antics, rubbing with more pressure now. his cock hardens beneath your touch, springing to life against his boxers and shorts. 

“c’mon, lix,” you urge. with your hands working against him and your pouty lips begging to be wrapped around him, his focus is dwindling. “you’re already bronze, it’s not like i can make you any worse.” 

“hey,” he huffs, feigning offense. “bullying me for my rank is not the way to get what you want, you know.” 

you giggle and wrap your hand around his length, still separated by the thin fabric, moving in slow strokes. “i just wanna give you some support. don’t you want that? my pretty lips around your cock?”

he twitches in your hand at your words, a low groan escaping him. when your thumb begins circling his tip, teasing, he can’t hold back anymore. 

“okay, fuck, yes i want that,” he rasps, dropping his hand from his keyboard to cup one of your cheeks. “i’ll let you play, baby, but i really need to win this game, okay?”

“try to stay focused then.”

it was a challenge you knew you’d be the winner of. felix may drive you crazy by depriving you when he’s gaming, but you could drive him absolutely wild. and you only needed your hands and your mouth to do it.

his head snaps back to the computer screen, trying to ignore your actions under his desk. fine, then. you would just have to be a little evil. and, in an evil manner, you tug down his shorts and only his shorts. you slip your fingers into his boxers, dragging along the waistband. after a few drawn out traces, you pull your fingers back and then release, letting the elastic snap against his skin, a silent taunt. you’re sure he’s likely shooting expectant glares down at you, but you don’t look up to check. instead, you dip your head lower, closer, breathing heavily right against him. his cock is pushing against the cloth angrily, begging to be released. begging for your touch. 

after he had made you wait for hours, you weren’t ready to give in just yet. you bring your lips to his boxers and press kisses against the material, all along his tip and the underside of his shaft. something about it all made felix’s head spin — how sweet you looked, smiling in between each kiss with closed eyes, as if you were enjoying this. getting pleasure from this.

oh, how you were.

when you opened them again, you looked up at him through your lashes and left one last lingering kiss to his tip. you’d hardly even touched him and he already missed the feeling.

“angel…” he mumbles, swallowing harshly. “i don’t think you get to tease when this was your idea.” 

your fingers return to his waistband, this time pulling down just slightly. “actually, i think i make all the rules right now,” you correct. “since you made me wait. it’s the least i deserve, right, baby?”

and instead of arguing with you, he simply nods and then curses at what you assume to be something in his league game. or, maybe, it’s from the brisk air hitting his dick when you finally pull down his boxers, leaving him completely exposed for you.

“how is every part of you so pretty?” you sigh, swiping your tongue along your hand before wrapping it at his base, no longer restricted by fabric. and much to his dismay, you don’t move at first. instead, you sit there between his legs, fist around his cock, admiring every inch of him. it takes almost too much resolve to stop yourself from putting your mouth around his pink tip right then and there. 

after a few still moments, you allow your finger to trail along the rest of his shaft, the inches your other hand didn’t cover. you found a blueish green vein to trace and did so torturously, taking a mental count of how many times he ran his hands through his hair in frustration. 

four, you had counted before felix sucked in a deep breath above you, losing his mind from your tantalizing movements. or, lack thereof. 

“can you move, baby?” he asks, and it comes out as more of a strained whisper than anything else. 

“i am moving,” you grin, wiggling your finger against him as a reminder. “or is there something else you want?”

he groans, both from his game taking a sharp turn for the worse and your teasing. and then he reaches down to grab your chin, tilting your head up. “can my angel stroke my cock for me?”

somehow, that ache within you only grew when he spoke so casually. his low voice sounded even sexier saying filthy things, things only you’d ever get to hear. 

so you don’t answer him, not with words at least. the only answer needed was the slow shift of your hand along his cock, sliding from the base to the tip. you continue to hold back, resisting, withholding. keeping your grasp light enough and strokes slow enough to remind him that his own actions had started this.  

your steady pumps were causing him to make stupid mistakes in his league game, but he didn’t dare complain. his teammates would simply have to handle the loss, because either way, he was winning. how many people could say their girlfriend was willing to be under the desk like this while they gamed? not many, he figured. 

“like this?” you question sweetly, speeding up your rhythm. you paused momentarily to spit onto his length, adding more lubricant for your now faster strokes. you twisted your hand each time it slid up, the new motion eliciting even more delicious sounds from him.

“mm, yeah, like that,” he affirms. “feels so good, fuck.” 

just when you had maintained an even rhythm, you slowed down again. then, you unwrapped your hand entirely and switched to your fingers, spreading your index and middle finger into a v shape and dragging them along each side of his cock. the shift between pressure made him almost buck into your hand, desperate for more once again.

“not enough, baby?” you taunt. 

“no,” he says sharply, almost a growl. 

“no?” you repeat, pouting, as if you were truly disappointed. “what should i do now, then?”

your wicked smile returned after you said it, fingertips still lightly brushing against him. of course, you knew exactly what he wanted — the very thing you offered in the beginning. but you weren’t giving it to him that easily. where was the fun in that?

“your mouth,” he whines. “i wanna feel your mouth, please angel.”

it was hard to tell if felix was even playing the game at this point, a significant lack of keys clacking and mouse clicking now. you had all but stolen his attention, league be damned. and though he had left you needy for too long, he was being so good now, manners and everything. you figured you could give him what he wanted — what you both wanted. 

you pressed another kiss to his tip, this time against the bare skin, a tender reward. “but what about your game? it seemed so important to you. i don’t think you’ll be able to focus like that,” you say coyly. 

“right now, watching my pretty girl suck my cock is important to me. fuck this game, i already died like five times in three minutes,” he groans, and you can’t help but laugh. it felt invigorating to have that much of an impact on him. and you hadn’t even used your mouth yet. 

so, when you lick one slow, intentional stripe up his length, it’s no surprise that he dies again. but he doesn’t mind so much, because now he really can watch. even if it’s just briefly. your tongue flutters along his slit and then circles the tip, repeating the sequence when he moans your name softly. 

finally, you take him into your mouth, lips wrapping around the first couple of inches to start. you’d barely done anything and he had already thrown his head back against his chair, forgetting about his impending respawn. 

“nuh uh,” you chide, popping your mouth off of him. “eyes on the screen. made me wait all that time, better make it worth it.” 

he swallowed hard and nodded, trying to get back into the game he’d already completely checked out of. at the very least, he could pretend, if that’s what it would take to keep your mouth on him. 

satisfied with this, you take his cock into your mouth again, this time hollowing your cheeks to reach more. his face scrunches from the pleasure, your head bobbing against him in steady motions that have him hardly able to keep his hands on his keyboard. 

felix really does try his best to keep playing, but when he accidentally looks down and sees your mouth so full of him, he’s ruined. 

“you’re so pretty,” he rasps. “and so good to me. can’t believe you wanted to suck me off while i play league of fucking legends. god, i’m lucky.”

in response to his praise, you wind your hand around his base and bring your mouth further down, gagging when you can’t take any more. but instead of releasing, you shake your head against him a few times before coming up for air. he knows he won’t be able to handle much more, especially when you pull off of him. it’s a messy sight. and he loves it.

your saliva coats your lips and his length, and it only helps you pump him languidly. your hand works fast and you return your lips back around him to match the pace, tongue running along his shaft. with each pull and dip of your head, your hand follows, gliding up and down in sync.

“shit,” he grunts. “your mouth feels so good. are you gonna let me cum in it, pretty?”

you only hum against him, the vibration sending him into a deeper frenzy. your hand, your mouth, the lewd noises, it was filthy, it was perfect. if heaven on earth existed, it was you under his desk right now. 

he has to hold down against the armrests of his chair hard when you suck the sensitive head of his cock sloppily, lips grazing him all over. 

“angel, fuck, what are you doing to me?” he moans, and when more expletives fall from his mouth hastily, you know he’s close. 

so, you sit back on your heels, releasing him from your mouth entirely. he tries to catch his breath, tries to ask why you’d suddenly stopped, but it all just comes out as a whine. 

“you don’t get to cum until your game’s over,” you say, wiping your bottom lip and crawling on all fours out from under the desk. with your back turned, you suddenly hear a lot more clicking, and then the sound of quick, aggressive rustling. like someone pushing away from a desk and jumping to their feet. 

best friend!chan who's always so busy. there are constant group activities to attend to — meetings, recording sessions, dance practices, concerts, fan meets, interviews, social events. the list is endless and he ends up depriving himself of much needed self care time.

best friend!chan who gets so tense because of the lack of time he gets to himself. no amount of time in the gym can rid him of his frustration and stress.

best friend!chan who tries jerking off to relieve himself. he tries to let his mind go blank, to not think about all his worries as he gets himself off, but he always ends up feeling worse than how he felt when started — far more frustrated.

best friend!chan who comes to you for help. he's desperate to find some form of relief and he's sure you'll give him a few ideas.

best friend!chan whose brain short circuits when you suggest sex. "n-not with me!" you're quick to add on, as if you can read his suddenly perverted thoughts, and the tips of his ears turn red. "you know, like a friends with benefit type of situation. with someone. you trust."

best friend!chan who struggles to fall asleep that night. he's thought about sex as an outlet  before, of course he has, but he's never thought of having a friend with benefits. it's a risky relationship to have in his line of work — things like that can come back to haunt you — but he can't deny how tempting the option is.

best friend!chan who let's himself stew in your words. his mind flies between the different people he knows, but he quickly realizes that the only person he trusts enough, is you.

best friend!chan who suddenly starts to feel uncomfortable in his own skin. a bead of sweat slides down his temple and his skin itches with need.

best friend!chan whose cock is now painfully hard in his boxers, straining against the soft fabric, precum already creating a damp patch where his tip presses into the thin material.

best friend!chan who tries to ignore it, tries not think about your sweet voice saying those words, tries to block out the memory of your soft lips curving into a bashful smile after you'd suggested the idea.

best friend!chan who lays in bed, covers thrown off, an arm slung over his eyes, his other hand gripping the sheets as he resists the urge to touch himself. he can't, it feels so wrong. he couldn't do that to his best friend.

best friend!chan who battles with himself, going back forth between his brain and his cock, fighting against the urge to think about you in that way. but he should know better — it's always a losing battle when it comes to you.

best friend!chan who has his cock in his fist faster than he can comprehend. the head is flushed a deep red and precum beads at the tip, dribbling down along the shaft. he swipes his thumb over the tip, spreading the slick along the underside, and giving himself a few, short tugs. it's an escape route, a test of the waters to see if he'll really go through with it – and he does.

best friend!chan who ends up fucking up into his fist, a wet schlick schlick schlick sound echoing across his room. his mind devoid of all reason as he replaces his hand with an image of your sweet pussy wrapped around his cock. he imagines himself buried deep in the slick warmth of your pussy, the plush of your ass smacking against his skin. he imagines the way you'd grip him like a vice, milking him for everything he has.

best friend!chan whose hips move with vigor, his skin damp with sweat that causes the tips of his hair to curl against the nape of his neck and along his forehead.

best friend!chan who already feels that familiar coil of tension forming in his abdomen, can already feel it pulling itself taut. his thighs tense, his hand loses its steady rhythm, and his hips start bucking up sloppily. fuck, it hasn't even been that long.

best friend!chan who whines as he cums, with your face on his mind and your voice in his ears. thick, white ropes shoot up and splatter against his abs and chest.

best friend!chan who feels so incredibly guilty as he lays in his sweat-soaked sheets, hand sticky and wet, and the evidence of his actions glistening across his flushed skin. he cleans up quickly; bundles his sheets and boxers and stuffs it in the washer. he opens his bedroom window, lets the cool night breeze wash his room free of the smell.

best friend!chan who goes back to bed, who tries to pretend he didn't just do that, with you on his mind.

best friend!chan who falls asleep in minutes, who only awakens the next morning because jeongin has to wake him.

best friend!chan whose body is free of that bone-deep tension he's lived with for weeks. he feels like a man reborn, going through his schedule with renewed energy. the feeling is glorious, but he promises himself that he'll keep that feeling alive in other ways, that he won't betray you like that again.

best friend!chan who can barely look you in the eye the next time you meet. you're sat on his couch, legs comfortably tucked underneath you, a movie playing softly in the background and a bowl of half-eaten popcorn forgotten on the coffee table. you'd noticed how much better he's been. "you're looking so much better, chan. have you, uhh...have you taken my advice? about...you know..."

best friend!chan who feels half-embarrassed and half-humiliated, knee bouncing with nervousness when he thinks about what he did. he tells you no, he'd just dove back into his previous outlets and somehow, something had just worked. it's not entirely a lie, he's jerked off plenty of times in the hopes of relieving himself, he just doesn't mention that this time, he was thinking about you.

best friend!chan who nearly combusts right there when you slide a hand over his agitated knee — the action is an innocent and unconscious one, something you've done for years, trying to break his bad habit. he halts his movement, going stiff when you offer him a beaming smile. "im so glad! you should show me what you did sometime. these days i feel like im bursting with stress myself." your laugh is melodic, completely unaware of his inner turmoil.

best friend!chan who feels his sweats tighten. he smiles back, cheeks flushed as he rubs at the back of his neck sheepishly. "yeah, maybe sometime." if only you knew what you were asking for.

the living room floor is a chaotic sprawl of wrapping paper and ribbons, gift boxes sprawled about in various states of completion.

you sit cross-legged amidst the festive mess, carefully folding a corner of silver paper over a rectangular box while chan hums along to the holiday playlist playing from a speaker somewhere to your right.

"i think we bought too little tape," chan mumbles as he holds up a nearly empty dispenser with a sheepish grin.

"that's because someone uses half a roll per present," you tease, eyeing toward the gift he'd just finished wrapping—a box of his own that’s more tape than wrapping paper.

your boyfriend is good at so many things, but gift wrapping unfortunately is not one of them.

you shake your head fondly and reach for a roll of red ribbon that rests between the two of you, measuring out a length of it against your forearm. the scissors make a satisfying snip as you cut it to your needed size. chan has already moved on to his next victim: a oddly-shaped item that he was attempting to wrap with increasing frustration.

"why would anyone make something this shape?" his complaint is grumbled, turning the object this way and that as wrapping paper crinkles, refusing to cooperate. "it's like... a weird triangle situation."

"here," you set aside your own project and scoot a little closer. "let me help, channie"

together, you manage to wrangle the paper around the awkward angles, your fingers brushing against his as you both reach for the same piece of tape. chan's hand lingers for just a moment, warm and gentle, before pulling back with a soft smile.

"thanks. you're better at this than me."

"practice," you reply, tying a neat bow on top of the newest wrapped present. "and patience."

"two things i apparently lack," chan manages with a laugh as he stretches his arms above his head. his sweater rides up slightly, and you can’t help the way your eyes gravitate to the sliver of skni.

the next hour passes you by in comfortable companionship.

you wrap presents with practiced efficiency while chan provides running commentary on everything from the optimal bow-tying technique (which he absolutely does not possess) to whether snowflake or reindeer paper is superior (an ongoing debate).

"your bows are so perfect," chan says with a tinge of awe, watching as you created another flawless loop. "how do you do that?"

"it's all in the wrist," you demonstrate, but when chan tries to mimic your movement his ribbon ended up in a lopsided knot.

"i think my wrists are broken," the announcement is a little dramatic and it’s promptly followed by him holding up his hands like they’ve betrayed him.

you laugh, reaching over to fix his attempt in only a matter of seconds. "they're perfect wrists. the ribbon is just being difficult."

chan's expression softens at that, something fond and warm flickering across his face. "you're always so nice about my complete lack of wrapping skills."

"well, that's because watching you struggle is entertaining." you hum.

"wow, using me for entertainment. i see how it is."

"would you rather wrap presents alone?"

"absolutely not," he says immediately, giving you one of his little looks—brow raised, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“no?”

"nah, this is the best part of the holidays. just... this." he gestures vaguely at the scene around you—the mess, the music, the two of you sitting close together on the floor. there's something so sincere in his voice that it makes your chest feel warm.

"yeah," you agree softly. "it really is."

chan picks up another ribbon and winds it absent mindedly around his fingers as he studies the remaining pile of gifts. "we're making good progress though. only... what, ten more?"

"twelve," you correct, "but who's counting?"

"apparently you are," he grins. before you can respond, he loops the ribbon loosely around your wrist like a bracelet. "there. now you're festive."

you look down at the makeshift decoration. when you glance up you’re met with a pleased expression, the sight of it making that warmth in your chest expand. "very stylish, channie"

"what can i say? i'm a trendsetter," chan declares with a shrug, already reaching for more wrapping paper, completely unaware of how endearing he is in this moment—hair slightly mussed, that bright smile. you say nothing, but you have a passing thought about how he seems brighter than the lights decorating the tree tucked in the corner.

you pick up your scissors and cut another length of ribbon, content to spend the rest of the evening exactly like this.

as chan returns to wrestling with another stubborn piece of wrapping paper, you eye the spool of ribbon beside you—the same one he’d used to fashion out your bracelet.

a cruel thought pops into your head, one you can’t be blamed for. he started it, after all... right??

"hey, chan?"

"mm?"

his head raises to spare you a glance, but before he can actually take in what’s happening you’ve vut a generous length of ribbon and leaned forward, carefully wrapping it around his head so it covers his eyes like a blindfold. you tie it loosely at the back, just secure enough to stay in place.

"there," you say, fighting back a laugh. "now you're festive."

chan's hands immediately come up to touch the ribbon, his mouth falling open in surprise before dissolving into laughter. "oh my god- are you serious right now?"

"completely serious. it's a great look on you."

"i can't see anything," he states the obvious while still laughing, his fingers tracing the edge of the ribbon carefully. "this is a safety hazard. what if i cut my finger off??”

"i’m sure you'll manage, baby" you hum, unable to keep the amusement from your voice. "consider it a challenge."

chan tilts his head, the ribbon shifting slightly with the movement but his smile is still there—bright and easy. "okay, okay. you got me. very clever."

he reaches up again, presumably to remove the ribbon, but his movements are slow, a little hesitant maybe. his hands hover near the knot at the back of his head.

"should i...?" he starts, but the question fizzles out into silence.

it’s that singular moment of hesitation that causes something in the air to shift

laughter fades, replaced by something heavier, quiet but tense. you're suddenly very aware of how close you're sitting. the way chan’s next breath comes a little heavier doesn’t go unnoticed.

"you could leave it," you hear yourself say, the words coming out without you even having to think about them. "just for a minute."

with that chan's hands drop slow back to his lap. "yeah?"

"yeah."

he's still for a moment, and you watch the way his throat works as he swallows.

without his eyes visible, every other detail becomes magnified—the slight part of his lips as he exhales, the faint blush that's been there earlier now spreading down the pretty column of his neck. his broad shoulders seem to curve inward just slightly, making him appear slightly smaller despite his arguably large frame.

"this is... different." chan’s voice comes quiet, something vulnerable lingering around the edges.

"good different?"

he huffs out a breath that might have been a laugh if it hadn’t been so airy. "i don't know. i just- i can't see you, but i can feel you looking at me."

"…is that okay?"

"yeah." the word comes out too quickly, almost breathless. "yeah, it's... it's fine."

without really meaning to you find yourself scooting closer, drawn in by the way chan seems to be holding himself so perfectly still. it’s almsot like he's afraid any movement may shatter whatever spell has settled over you both.

"chan," his name falls soft from your mouth and is met with his hum of acknowledgement. "you can take it off whenever you want."

his hands twitch in his lap but he doesn't move to remove the ribbon. your lips pull into something deceivingly sweat as he breathes out slow, deliberate. he says nothing, only offering you a nod in confirmation.

you take his confirmation as the unspoken permission that it is, shifting forward slow and deliberate.

watching the way chan's chest rises and falls with each breath sends a dull heat thrumming alongside the blood in your veins.

he doesn't move away—doesn't even seem like he wants to. if anything, he seems to sink back slightly, his shoulders meeting the edge of the couch cushions behind him as you close the distance between you.

"comfortable?" you ask, your voice quiet in what little space remains between you.

once again chan doesn’t offer you words—just a sound that rolls low in his throat, one he pairs with another of those single nods. his hands are grip his own thighs like he needs something to hold onto before he snaps.

you let your fingertips ghost over his knee first. it’s barely there, testing, but it still makes chan's breath hitch. he doesn’t twitch away though, and that’s all you need to keep going.

encouraged, you let your palms flatten against his thighs, feeling the warmth of him through the fabric of his sweats as you drag your hands upward in a slow, deliberate path that you know makes his mind go blank.

"this okay?" you murmur even though you can see the answer in the way he's gone pliant under your touch, lips parting around a shaky exhale.

"more than," chan manages, his voice rough around the edges. "you’re- yeah. keep going."

there's something intoxicating about this—about the way he's letting you set the pace, letting you explore without question or hesitation. chan doesn't usually ask for this kind of attention, rarely lets himself be the center of it, and the knowledge that he's just… giving in sends a thrill of satisfaction straight through you and pools low in your stomach.

your hands travel higher, brushing over the planes of his stomach and feeling the way his muscles tense and release instinctively under your touch. you trace the lines of his chest through his sweater, slow and intentional, before letting your fingers drift up towards his shoulders and down the length of his arms.

chan shivers, head tipping back to rest against the couch cushion.

the ribbon shifts with the movement and you can see the flutter of his eyelashes beneath it, the way he's keeping them closed even though the fabric is doing the work for him.

"you're doing so well," your hands find their way back to his chest, feeling the way his heartbeat thunders beneath your palm. "just sitting here, letting me touch you."

chan's jaw tightens, and you watch the muscles work as he clearly fights to maintain some semblance of composure. "i can-" he starts, but his voice cracks slightly before he can stop it. he has to clear his throat before he continues. "i can handle it."

"i know you can," you purr, something teasing in your tone now. "you're always so good at staying in control, aren't you channie?"

his breath stutters at that, and you feel the way his chest expands unevenly under your touch.

chan is always the one who takes charge—in the studio, with the members, with you. he's steady, reliable, the foundation everyone else builds on. but right now, with that ribbon hiding his eyes and your hands mapping the geography of his body, he looks anything but stable.

"yeah," he agrees but it comes out strained. "always."

your following hum is a thoughtful, condescending thing. letting one hand drift lower, you let your fingertips graze along the line of his waistband. chan's hips shift almost imperceptibly, but you catch the movement, the way he's already fighting against himself to not react.

"what if you didn't have to be, though? just for a little while?"

chan's lips press together and for a moment you think he might protest, might pull the ribbon off and take back the reins like he always does.

instead, you watch as his hands flex against his thighs, fingers spreading wide before curling into loose fists.

he exhales slowly through his nose before speaking, or trying to, at least.

"i don't-" he pauses, swallows hard. "i'm not used to this."

"i know, baby"

"it's not that i don't want to, i just…" another shaky breath. "it's hard to let go."

"then don't let go all at once," you say, thumb stroking small circles just above his hip bone, trying to ease the tension coiled there. "just lemme take care of you, channie. one piece at a time. yeah?"

chan makes that same sound again—something caught between agreement and surrender—and the last bit of resistance seems to bleed out of his shoulders.

he sinks further back against the couch, his thighs spreading just slightly wider, and you take that as the invitation it is.

you move to position yourself between his legs properly, your knees digging against the carpet.

from the new angle, you can see everything—the way his chest is rising and falling faster now, the muscle twitching at the side his neck, the way his hands are gripping his own thighs so hard his knuckles have gone pale.

"breathe," you remind him gently, and it takes barely a second before chans drawing in a deep breath that makes his whole body expand and release.

"there you go," you praise, not missing the way his breath catches again at the word, expression shifting into something soft and sharp all at once.

you let your hands roam more freely now, tracing the lines of his torso with increasing confidence.

when your fingers find the hem of his sweater and slip beneath it, chan makes a soft sound—barely audible but, lucky you, you're just close enough to catch it.

his skin is warm, smooth, and you feel the way his abdomen jumps under your touch.

"cold.” the word is hissed through his teeth, the muscle along jaw ticking tight.

"should i stop?"

"no." immediate. emphatic. "no, don't- don't stop."

it’s at that moment that you know without a doubt that you hwve him right where you want him.

you smile, even though he can't see it, and push his sweater up slowly, exposing more skin inch by inch. chan lifts his arms automatically when you tug at the fabric, and you pull it over his head carefully, mindful of the ribbon still tied around his eyes.

the sweater joins the wrapping paper chaos somewhere to your left.

without the barrier of clothing, chan looks even more vulnerable—bare-chested, blindfolded, whole body taut with barely restrained tension.

you can see the rise and fall of his breathing more clearly now, can see the way his nipples have already pebbling under the cool air, the faint flush that has spread down from his cheeks to his chest.

"you're so handsome, chris…" the compliment is quiet bit so, so deserved.

because fuck, just look at him.

the red dusting his skin flushes deeper. chan turns his head slightly to the side like he's trying to hide from the compliment despite having nowherr to go. "you can't even see my face right now."

his deflection only makes you laugh.

"don't need to. i can see everything else."

that pulls a new sound from him, one that’s soft, maybe a little wounded.

you watch his adam's apple bob as he swallows hard.

you lean in, letting your breath ghost over his collarbone before pressing your lips there—just once, feather-light. chan's entire body goes rigid, back arching slightly off the couch before he can catch himself. when he realizes how easily he’s bent, he tries to sink back down.

"it's fine, baby," you murmur against his skin. "you don't gotta keep still."

"i'm-" his voice cracks again, and he has to stop, has to breathe before he can even think about continuing. "i'm trying."

"trying to what?"

"not fall apart," it’s a whisper. a whisper that has something so raw, something honest and unguarded that he probably wouldn't say if he could see you looking at him.

you press another kiss to his collarbone, then another to the hollow of his throat. you can’t keep from smiling when you feel his pulse hammering under your lips. "and what if i want you to fall apart?"

chan makes a choked sound, his hands closing into fists where they now rest against the floor. "that's- that’s not fucking fair, sweetheart.”

"no?" you trace your tongue along the line of his throat, tasting salt and something uniquely him. chan can’t help the full-body shudder that runs through him in response. "seems pretty fair to me."

"you're-" he gasps when your teeth graze his skin, gentle but present. "you're evil."

"and you're being so good for me," you counter, letting your hands sooth up his sides, thumbs brushing dangerously close to his nipples. "staying right here, letting me do what ever i want."

chan's breath punches out of him, hips jerk up involuntarily before he can stop them. you can feel him now—can feel exactly how much this is affecting him, the evidence of it tenting his sweatpants, unmistakable.

"that's it," you encourage, your voice dropping lower. "you don't have to hide it, honey."

"not trying to hide," chan manages. his voice is wrecked, all pretense of control completely shattered. "can't hide anything from you anyway."

you hum in agreement and finally, finally, let your thumbs drag across his nipples.

chan's reaction is immediate and visceral—his back bows off the couch again, harsher than before. his mouth falls open around a gasp that's so nearly a moan, his whole body trembling with the effort of not completely losing it.

"fuck." he breathes out, the curse barely audible, and you feel a surge of satisfaction at breaking through that careful composure.

"sensitive?" you ask, doing it again, watching the way his chest heaves and his fingers twitch to curl in the fabric at the side of his thighs.

"yes- fuck. yeah, i—" he can't seem to finish a sentence, can't seem to do anything except react, his body portraying every thought before he can have the chance to voice it.

when you lean down to replace your thumb with your mouth, chan makes a sound you've never heard from him before—high and desperate and completely unhinged. his hand comes up to tangle in your hair, not pulling, just holding on like he needs the anchor.

but the moment his fingers graze your hair, you go completely still.

then you pull back. it’s not gently, not gradual—just away.

the space you put between the two of you is immediate and no doubt jarring. chan’s chest pushes forwards to try and chase your lips, his brows pinched in something close to frustration as cold air washes over where your warm lips had been only seconds ago.

chan's hand hovers for a moment before falling back to the ground, confused, and you can see the moment uncertainty crashes over his features.

"what.." he starts, breathless and disoriented. "did i- baby, did i do something?"

you don't answer.

you don't say a word, actually—just stand up from where you've been kneeling between his legs to leave him there—blindfolded, shirtless, hands braced against the floor as his chest rises and falls with rapid, uneven breaths.

"wait, sweetheart i'm sorry, i didn't mean to-" chan's voice cracks with genuine worry now, his head turning as if trying to track your movement by sound alone. "please, i shouldn't have—"

the silence stretches.

you count the seconds—ten, fifteen, twenty—letting him sit with it, letting him feel the absence of your touch, the weight of not knowing. chan shifts on the couch, his hands flexing uselessly, his whole body tense with the effort of staying put when every instinct is probably screaming at him to fix whatever he's broken.

"i'm sorry," he says again, quieter this time, and there's something devastating in his voice that almost makes you cave. "look,i won't touch you again, i promise, just please…"

chan's head snaps toward the sound of you shifting, his lips parting around what might be relief or another apology. whatever it is, you don’t give him the chance to say anything.

"hands," you say simply, voice calm. even. it make chan freeze.

"what?"

"give me your hands. in front of you."

there's a pause—confusion flickering across his features—before he gives in, hands lifting from where they’d been sitting useless at his side until their in front of him, wrists pressed together. his fingers tremble slightly.

you have another length of ribbon in your hands. a ribbon that you wind around his wrists carefully, not tight enough to hurt but secure enough that he'll feel it, that he'll know exactly what it means.

chan's breath hitches as you tie the knot, his whole body going very, very still. "oh," he breathes out, and it sounds like an understanding than a breath. "oh."

"you don't get to touch," you say quietly, finishing the binding and letting his bound wrists fall to rest in his lap. "not unless i say so."

chan swallows hard, his throat working around the words he can't quite seem to form. when he does find it in him to speak, it’s singular and barely above a whisper.

"okay."

"okay?"

"yeah," he says, a little stronger. "yeah, i understand."

you let your fingers trail along his jaw and the tension you feel there sends another wave of bone deep satisfaction through you. how could you not get off on the way he so clearly fights to not lean into the touch?

"good boy," you muse, taking chan’s chin between your fingers and shaking him gently once. chan chokes like all the air has been punched from his lungs.

his bound hands flex in his lap, instinctively trying to reach for something—for you, probably—before he remembers the ribbon that keep him from doing so.

you can see the effort it takes, can see the way his whole body is wound tight, torn between the need to touch and the determination not to.

chan's lips part, whether to say somethiing else’s or just to breathe you aren't sure, but you don't give him the chance to do much of either.

you lean in and kiss him properly—your mouth covering his, swallowing the surprised gasp that escapes him.

for a moment chan goes completely still, shocked into stillness before he’s melting into you with a desperation that makes your heart stutter. his lips move against yours with an urgency that borders on frantic, like he's trying to pour every ounce of want into this single point of contact since it's all he's allowed.

you can feel him straining forward, trying to deepen the kiss, and you let him—just for a moment.

you let him taste you, let him chase the warmth of your mouth with his own. his bound hands lift slightly from his lap, an instinctive movement he catches and stops immediately with a frustrated sound caught in his throat.

and then you pull back.

not far—just enough to break the kiss, to leave a breath of space between your lips and his. something deep rolls in chan’s throat as he leans forwards to try and follow you. you have to press a hand to his chest to stop him.

chan's chest is heaving beneath your palm, skin warm and slightly damp with sweat. you can feel his heartbeat—rapid, uneven—hammering against your fingertips as he tries to catch his breath.

"stay still," you say while applying just enough pressure to keep him pinned back against the cushions.

"please," he breathes out, and the way his voice is frayed around each syllable makes your thighs twitch. "please, don't. i need it, baby-"

"need what, chris?"

"more," chan admits, shameless now in his wanting. "please, just need more."

you hum thoughtfully, letting your fingers trace idle patterns on his chest while he sits there blindfolded and bound, lips still parted and kiss-swollen, waiting for mercy you have little intention of granting yet. "maybe later," you hum. "if you're good."

the sound chan makes is somewhere between a whimper and a groan, his head falling back against the couch in defeat. "you're killing me."

"you'll survive," you assure him, letting your hand drift lower. it skims down his sternum. chan's breath catches, whole body tensing in anticipation.

you take your time working your way down, pressing kisses to his chest—soft ones at first, barely there, until chan is practically vibrating with need.

when you finally reach his nipple again and close your lips around it, he jerks so hard you have to brace yourself against him.

"fuck-" the word punches out of him, desperate and harsh, and his bound hands clench into fists in his lap.

you work him over slow, thorough, alternating between gentle suction and the careful graze of teeth until chan is a trembling mess beneath you. every sound he makes goes straight through you—broken gasps and bitten-off moans and your name falling from his lips like a prayer.

"please," chan it over and over again though you aren't sure he even knows what he's pleading for anymore. "fuckin’ hell, please-"

you switch to the other side, giving it the same attention, and chan's hips buck up involuntarily.

you can see how hard he is now, how his sweats have grown tight and uncomfortable. you ignore it though—focusing instead on reducing him to nothing but sensation and want.

his bound hands lift again just to hover uselessly in the air for a moment before he forces them back down, shaking his head as if silently scolding himself. "i want to touch you so badly," he draws, voice broken. "want it so bad it hurts."

"i know," you murmur, your voice soft and soothing as you let your hands drift down to his thighs. "i know you do."

chan's breath hitches at the contact, his legs tensing under your palms.

it starts slow—just gentle pressure at first, your thumbs tracing small circles through the fabric of his sweatpants. the muscles beneath your hands are coiled tight with tension, and you work at them patiently, massaging in slow, deliberate strokes.

"relax," you try and coax, applying more pressure as your hands move higher up his thighs. "just feel it."

chan makes a choked sound, his legs falling open slightly under your touch.

you encourage it, your hands spreading wider, pushing his thighs apart to your liking. he doesn't resist—can't resist, really. not when every touch seems to unravel him more and more..

"that's it," you praise, watching the way his chest flutters when you graze a hand over his dick print. "so good for me."

you shift yourself lower until you can ease yourself between his knees, pressing your lips to his stomach just above the waistband of his sweatpants. chan's whole body jerks at the contact, a gasp knocking out of him.

you take your time working your way down, trailing kisses across his abdomen—soft, open-mouthed things that make him tremble.

his stomach is taut beneath your lips, all hard muscle and definition that you take a moment to appreciate, letting your tongue dip along the defined lines of his stomach

"you're so beautiful," you murmur against his skin, and chan makes a sound like he's been stabbed instead of praised.

you hook your fingers into the waistband of his sweatpants to tug them down. it’s not all the way, just enough to expose the dark fabric of whatever designer boxers he’s wearing today.

the evidence of his arousal is impossible to miss now, and you let your breath ghost over him through the thin material.

chan's reaction is immediate and visceral, hips jerking up and a broken moan bubbling past his lips. "oh god-"

you press your mouth to him through his boxers, wrapping your lips around the wet spot where heads been leaking a steady steam of pre. chan practically sobs. his thighs tremble on either side of you, his whole body shaking with the effort of staying still and completely falling apart.

"fuck, please sweetheart." his voice is wrecked beyond recognition now, desperate and pleading. "please, i can't- i need—"

you mouth along the length of him, letting the wet heat of your mouth seep through the fabric.

chan is incoherent above you now, just broken sounds and half-formed words, his bound hands clenching and unclenching in his lap.

you pull back just enough to hook your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, dragging them down slowly. chan lifts his hips to help, a desperate, eager movement that makes something warm unfurl in your chest.

when you finally free him he lets out a shuddering breath, cock hard and flushed against his stomach.

"so pretty," you mutter, wrapping a hand around him as you admire. chan's whole body jerks at the contact, a broken sound escaping his throat.

you don't make him wait any longer.

without warning, you lean in and take him into your mouth properly this time, no teasing, no barriers. just wet heat and suction that has chan crying out above you.

his bound hands fly up instinctively, and before you can process it, he's maneuvered them over your head despite the ribbon binding his wrists together.

suddenly his bound hands are behind your head, fingers tangling in your hair, and he's pushing—guiding you down down down until you can feel him hitting the back of your throat.

you could stop him. should stop him, maybe. but something about the desperation in the gesture, the way he's so far gone that even being bound and blind can't keep him from seeking what he wants. needs.

you let it happen. let him push you as far as you can take him, let him use your mouth the way he so clearly needs to.

"oh fuck-" chan's voice is airy and lost as his hips starting moving in shallow thrusts. "fuck, fuck baby, you feel so good, so perfect…"

his bound hands tighten in your hair, holding you in place while he fucks into your mouth with increasing desperation. you can feel him trembling, can hear the way each of his inhales are sucked in through clamped teeth, can taste the salt of him on your tongue.

you hum around him in permission, in encouragement, and chan makes a sound like he's dying.

his movements become more erratic, bound hands pulling you down harder as he chases release with single-minded focus.

"close," he warns, voice breaking on the word. "m’ so close"

that’s all you need to know for you to hollow your cheeks and suck harder.

apparently that’s all it takes for chan too, because in the next second he’s coming down your throat with a choked cry, hands holding you in place so he can use the warmth of your mouth to ride out his high.

when he finally releases you, his hands falling limply to his side.

it’s then that you pull back to look at him, and you can honestly say that it’s the most delicious sight you’ve ever seen.

chan is slumped against the couch, chest heaving in silent gasps. his head his hanging down, chin pressed hover right above his collarbones as he tries to get a grip on himself. the ribbons still covering his eyes and binding his wrists.

he looks completely undone—lips parted, skin flushed, trembling with aftershocks.

chan makes a soft, vulnerable sound and tries to lean into you when you move to perch on his thigh. his bound hands lift to hold yhou before he remembers and stops himself. "can i-" he starts, then hesitates. "take this shit off.. please."

it’s less of an ask and more of a statement.

you reach up and carefully untie the ribbon from his wrists first, then the one covering his eyes. when he can finally see again, when his hands are finally free, chan immediately wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, burying his face in your neck.

"thank you," he whispers against your skin, and you can feel him smiling. "that was…"

"good?" you supply, running your fingers through his hair.

"understatement of the century," chan murmurs, pressing a kiss to your throat. his hands are everywhere now, making up for lost time, and you let him—let him touch and hold and ground himself in the feel of you.

you know damn well that all other presents this season will be ruined for you. because honestly, how could anything one up pulling a blindfold off your lover?

It’s always a never-ending, cold war between those two, and you end up caught in the middle. You become more and more curious, and at the same time you think you couldn’t care less... but you wonder... is there something more important in the story you already know?

“Can you tell Jeongin I’m going out? I honestly don’t know where he is. Tell him I’ll take the Mercedes.”

Of course, as usual, you’re in charge of being the go-between between her and her husband whenever the two don’t want to talk to each other... which is pretty much all the time. You think a relationship like that is exhausting, and you also recognize that their marriage is purely fake—just another charade to maintain appearances and status for both of them.

You nod with a fake, subtle smile at the news that you don’t care about, but you’re there, at your job, being polite and decent, knowing your place and position. Listening to the annoyed tone of the very pregnant Mrs. Yang gives you the chills, but you’re glad she’s about to leave.

She is about to leave, and you feel relieved at her absence, when she suddenly turns back:

“And remind him that he has his interview at 6:00 and to wear the suit that’s in the laundry room. Go and put it in his walk-in closet.”

“Okay, I’ll take care of it, Mrs. Yang,” you reply curtly, almost slamming the door in her face.

Usually when the young Mr. Yang is at home, there isn’t much to do, not in terms of your work, but in terms of the real hidden reason why you’re working in that house in the first place... you have no choice but to admire him from afar and fantasize about him, since he’s a rather handsome and unreal man. But unfortunately, he’s exactly the kind of man you’d expect someone with an exaggerated amount of money to be—cold, certainly rude, and spoiled. But he’s so magnetic and handsome, almost irresistible, always getting what he wants no matter what; but anyway, his personality is the perfect match for the kind of person his wife is, who’s currently expecting a child who will grow up under the same teachings of superiority. The future family complements each other in a twisted, fucked-up way, united by cruelty and money.

You do as you are told, not wanting to deal with Mr. Yang, avoiding an encounter, so you are quick. You planned not to tell him that his wife was out, knowing full well that he doesn’t even care, but the idea of reminding and urging him to leave his house soon is your best option to continue with your other kind of duties.

You hang up his suit in a visible spot and walk down the hall until you reach the master bedroom again. You don’t know where he is either, so you decide to go for the safest option of looking for him in his home office. But he is faster than you, sensing your presence in the room no matter how stealthy and quiet you try to be.

“Y/n,” you hear him say from the bathroom.

You don’t try to hide, so you just answer, “Yes, Mr. Yang?”

“I’m in here. Come in. I need a towel,” he says loudly and clearly, somewhere between demanding and gentle.

You’re confused for a second. You want to tell him that the towels are right there in the bathroom, that he only has to walk a few steps... you wonder if he’s taking a shower, if he’s naked... what he’s up to now... because when he gets bored, he likes to have fun with you, alone, enjoying your reaction as you try to be as stern as possible while melting before his indescribable charm, commanding presence, and flirtatious attempts... his flirtatious smile with dimples and eyes that also grin on their own. It’s hard to ignore someone like Yang Jeongin; you don’t blame Mrs. Yang for it.

But you don’t protest. On the other hand, you’re also extremely curious to know what kind of perverse game he’s planning now... when his wife isn’t around.

“Okay. I’m going in, okay?” you announce with some uncertainty. It’s not like you want to open the door and see him like some kind of perverted exhibitionist.

He doesn’t answer. And finally, you go in. But you don’t see or hear the shower running; instead, you are flooded with the scent of roses and jasmine and the divine image of the side profile of your boss relaxing in his bathtub, his strong, muscular arms extending beyond the edges, his figure relaxed and carefree against the white marble.

Jeongin doesn’t even turn to look at you; he just gives you a small sideways smirk, lost in the tranquility of the silence that he decides to break.

“Where were you? I had to prepare the bathtub by myself.”

You were watering the rose bushes in the garden, and then you went to tidy up the nursery... but that doesn’t matter now... was he just lying there, naked as if nothing was happening? How far would he go?

“I was busy,” you reply coldly.

You are certainly somewhat petrified in front of the door. Since you entered, you haven’t moved an inch… it was uncertainty and fear that you have for the inevitable attraction to Jeongin, since this type of image and scenario is imaginable, it has exceeded all your expectations. He is leaning there, attractively carefree, with part of his chest exposed, the waterline just below his pecs, his hair slightly wet, his arms strong and shiny. You never thought you would see him like this.

“Mm-hmm. Is Serin bothering you a lot these days? Can you wet a small towel in warm water and bring it to me, please?” he asks, his eyes still closed, enjoying the tranquility of the moment, unashamed of his perfect naked body.

You don’t answer. You think he's being strangely kind anyway… using “please” and speaking softly to you, which was simple human decency… something you know he doesn’t know. You take a small towel and soak it in hot water from the sink; you squeeze it until it is just warm and walk uncertainly toward him, right up to his head. You avoid looking at his body, but it is difficult to resist. His body is submerged, but the water is clear, softly tinged with a pale creamy white, with scattered bubbles from his favorite bath oil. And you can visualize… the extremely suggestive nature of his delicious figure.

It takes you a second to process it and say, “Here you go, Mr. Yang.”

He smiles mischievously, sensing your presence behind him from the beginning and deducing that it was difficult for you not to look. Jeongin adjusts himself a little, sitting up slightly, and turns to take the towel. The sound of water moving gently fills the air.

The way he wants to play with you right now, lying there naked as if nothing were wrong, seems so cynical and dirty to you.

“Oh, thank you,” he says casually, placing the towel on his forehead and sliding his body further down.

You snap out of your trance, a little exasperated that he doesn’t say anything else, that you can leave, or if he needs anything else. You swallow nervously and try to get out of the situation.

“Your suit is in your closet for your interview at 6, Mr. Yang,” you walk to the door, reminding him in a friendly tone. “I’ll be downstairs if you need anything. You can talk to me as soon as you’re done.”

You want to get out of there as soon as possible, your thoughts beginning to betray you. Your hand is already on the doorknob, but Jeongin still has other plans. He doesn’t want to let you go that easily, since you’ve unfortunately caught him in one of his angry outbursts where he pretends to be calm, but he is anything but relaxed, despite maintaining that appearance. He has been upset with his wife for a long time. You could say that neither of them tolerated each other… but they stayed together for a common reason that only they both knew. Perhaps there was a certain appreciation, a habit for both of them. After all, Serin is the woman carrying his child in her womb, or at least that’s what Jeongin liked to believe.

“And Serin?” he stops you with an annoyed tone, as if saying her name bothers him.

You don’t turn to look at him, and your hand remains on the cold handle. “She just left. She didn’t tell me where.”

You’re about to leave, but his movement stops you. A smug smile appears on his face. Jeongin sits back down in the tub, leaves the short towel on the edge of it, and turns to look at you. He thinks there couldn’t be a better moment. It’s now or never, just to let go of every frustration and piece of information he’s been holding back.

Despite all his attempts to flirt with you, Jeongin had never thought of you in that way, not all the time; he likes to do it, flirt with you, because he knows he has power over you, his subordinate. He loves the attention—the way you do everything he asks, even when you do the most mundane things… although he must admit that he enjoys it too much when he deliberately makes a mess on the floor, throwing papers around his office, leaving his clothes lying there, just to watch you bend down for him. You bow slightly every time you see him when it’s not necessary and submit so submissively to everything he asks of you.

And, as on many occasions, you and he find yourselves alone, but this time it’s very different. Jeongin is ready to cross that line no matter what; he was going to get everything he wanted, as usual.

His heart races at the mere thought, and he bites his lower lip with a certain guilt and desire. “Wait. I need to talk to you,” he orders.

You don’t know exactly what he might ask of you this time, so you turn your body toward him.

“Yes, Mr. Yang?” you ask, somehow tired, raising your eyebrows. You don’t want to play his games right now.

Jeongin finally dares to look at you for more than three seconds. His deep gaze pierces you and travels up and down your body. He finds this an extremely fun game, thinking there is no other sweeter way to vent his anger and frustration.

Adrenaline and excitement completely fill Jeongin’s body. He is impatient, so he suddenly blurts out:

“I know your secret.”

You frown, genuinely confused, whispering almost in an amused tone, “What?”

“I know your secret. I know why you’re here, Y/n. Is Y/n even your real name?” He speaks with a certain tone of obviousness, a cynicism he relishes in every word. His smile widens, his dimples appear, his eyes narrow, but instead of giving him a charming touch, his expression is more villainous. “You want to... destroy Serin. Get revenge for your friend Wonmin because my wife did something terrible to her that you don’t want to talk about... Isn’t that right?”

Jeongin tilts his head slightly in a gesture of false sympathy. He relishes every word, exposing you, using that “I know everything” tone. And your breathing quickens... you don’t know how he found out, but you swallow nervously and decide not to give him that pleasure.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, you don’t?” he continues to provoke you, his eyes shining like a psychopath admiring his victim. “Your expression tells me otherwise. Mmm... Wasn’t that... Serin ruined Wonmin’s career and then...” His tone is slow, precise, but you interrupt him before hearing more.

“Enough.”

And then she tried to kill her. She ruined everything for her with a false rumor, not just her career. Is that the part of the story Jeongin was about to tell? How disturbingly dangerous, heartless, and nefarious his wife is?

Your reaction gives Jeongin a sharp pleasure. It’s exactly how he thought you would be—nervous, vulnerable, confused, somewhere between on the verge of tears and struggling to remain stable.

“So you come to my own house... and think you’ll find something? Did it do you any good? Have you found what you’re looking for?”

His cockiness disturbs you. You close your eyes tightly, hating to agree with him, but you feel trapped, with nothing more to say, resigned, with no other options.

“What do you want? What are you getting out of this?”

What does he get for knowing your intentions? For covering a criminal, still standing by her side, you think. It’s unbelievable.

Jeongin is about to achieve many things, including a deep, hidden pleasure. His smile widens.

“Come here, come closer,” he orders you. You look at him incredulously and notice that he is waiting for you, so you approach, but not close enough. “Come closer,” you do so and find yourself standing next to the bathtub. “I can keep your secret... even, who knows, perhaps help you... if you do everything I ask. Yes?” he proposes, coaxing you.

You feel like there’s no other way out… you don’t have time to think clearly, to come up with a quick plan, so you make the desperate decision to accept, to nod resignedly.

In Jeongin’s twisted mind, it’s already a mutual agreement between you and him. A mutual revenge. Because, although your theory is quite true, Serin and Jeongin’s marriage is one of convenience, and there is no connection between them, no love or affection as a marriage should have… Jeongin promised his wife one thing—not to be unfaithful to her. They both thought it through and promised each other not to sleep with anyone else, common sense for a normal marriage, but they weren’t; if they wanted sex, then they both had to please each other whenever the other wanted it.

So, for four long years of marriage, Jeongin has been strictly faithful to Serin… but she couldn’t say the same about herself. Because, despite being an evil woman, deep down in her heavy soul, she still craves affection, leading her to a long relationship with a lover, just to fill the great void her husband made her feel, because, despite acting like she hates him, Serin has deep feelings for Jeongin that are difficult to erase…

Despite the adversities, Jeongin found out absolutely everything. And, as much as it made his blood boil, the two cannot divorce yet because of a rather secret agreement that involves more than just the two of them.

Now he doubts Serin’s credibility, driving him crazy to think that maybe that unborn child isn’t even his.

“Fine. Then let’s start convincing me to keep my mouth shut,” he says, sliding gently into the tub to get even closer to you. “Undress, now.”

You think you’re ready to do whatever he’s about to ask, but that order takes you by surprise. You blink in disbelief. Did you hear him right?

“What?” you repeat in a breathy sigh.

You heard him clearly… and his lewd gaze speaks for itself. No… you don’t want to do this now… you wonder if there’s another way out… another way to negotiate… because as part of your plans, seducing Serin’s husband is considered foul play, an easy way out, because no matter how much you hated her, Jeongin was still a married man. Besides, you’ve begun to consider that he’s not such an important person in her life anyway, that messing with him wouldn’t have much impact on her… you would only be tarnished as an easy lover since she would still have everything… and you don’t want to make Jeongin fall in love, even though in all the time you’ve studied him, you’re not even sure if he’s capable of such a thing.

“Undress now. Do it before I change my mind and start talking,” he orders casually.

You close your eyes again deeply. You are somewhere between nervous and certainly amused… all this time… his intentions are clear. It amuses you to know that he’s probably excited at the thought of what’s to come, and that there are two options—he remains incredibly controlling even during the act… or he slowly breaks down until he can no longer control his ability to be horny, making him needy. But even so, the fact that he wants to mess with you makes you nervous.

You sigh and do as he orders, still in disbelief. You reach for the zipper at the back of your dress and slide it down your spine, slowly removing it from your shoulders and arms; you subtly shake your hips and the garment falls easily to the floor. Jeongin enjoys every second, his breathing quickening, putting him in an excited, desperate mood, his member hardening more and more as it is covered by the warm water. To a certain extent, Jeongin feels a little silly, naive… since he hasn’t done this in four years, having an affair, a one-time thing, but he bites his lip and admires your body, from your slightly uncomfortable expression—your lips pressed together, your gaze nervously scanning the room, avoiding looking at him— until descending to the semi-nudity of your figure—your body in the simplest and prettiest black underwear, a smooth bra, panties that reveal the exquisite shape of your mons pubis. He thinks… with great satisfaction, why you’re not wearing anything under your uniform, shorts, a soft blouse, so you don’t feel the material of the uniform sticking to your skin. Jeongin knows it’s difficult to say for sure and decide that it will be a one-time thing.

“Get undressed,” he repeats, his voice satisfyingly raspy.

The new sensation of being aroused by a new mistress is so addictive to him now.

You don’t refuse. The warm atmosphere of the room embraces your body. As soon as he makes his second, more daring request, which you had already accepted, your mind betrays you and sends signals of pleasure and enjoyment to your nervous system… sensations that are unleashed when you see the flirtatious expression on his face and his eyes shining, eager for you.

And you end up naked in front of him, your skin bristling at his penetrating gaze. You don’t know how to react, so your nervous response is a soft, inaudible giggle. You don’t even cover yourself, just hold your right forearm with your somewhat anxious left hand, not realizing that you are subtly squeezing your breasts and making them look more appealing to the aroused Jeongin.

He devours you with his gaze, unable to stop fantasizing about the sensation of you that makes his member throb, causing him sharp pleasure, so he can’t wait any longer to say to you: “Come here, get in.”

You let out a giggle this time, right in his face. You genuinely don't see the point of this, even though you’re not stupid; you know exactly what he wants, so you express it, amused.

“You want to fuck me? How that… assure me that will be enough?”

“Oh, maybe it won’t be, but you have to start convincing me,” he says hoarsely, unable to contain himself any longer, his cock reacting on its own, throbbing in the water, but he refuses to touch himself pathetically on his own. “I want you right now,” he insists. “And I want you to do everything I ask. If you don’t… do you think Serin will let Wonmin get away unscathed this time… and what about you? Haven’t you learned what she’s capable of?”

The smile and amused expression disappear completely from your face… thinking it’s cruel to bring up the subject again. You sigh, and this time, you think that doing it quickly will get you out of the situation soon, so you prepare yourself mentally as you do what he orders. You naively visualize your body being used, him penetrating you senselessly until he satisfies himself, but you still have no idea.

You awkwardly enter the tub, standing facing him, but he corrects you the second he sees your intentions.

“Turn around.”

You know what you’ve gotten yourself into, and you find it strangely exciting in a way because, after all, you’re still a woman who has always found Jeongin attractive, and being naked in an atmosphere of tension and magnetism makes you feel a certain way… hot, embarrassed, and crazy. Jeongin is in the same state as you, attracted and turned on by the idea of doing something wrong. Of indulging his mere carnal desire.

Jeongin enjoys the sight of your ass descending shyly and bashfully. You hold onto the edges of the tub and are somewhat afraid that your foolish boss will align his cock at your entrance and force you to fall onto it without any preparation, just as you are beginning to get slightly wet… but that is not how Jeongin wants to have you.

He grabs you by the waist, pulling your body closer and closer down until you’re sitting on his lap, letting his hard genitals press and rub against your ass and between your folds, exquisitely pressing against your entrance. You feel it at its peak, extremely firm, throbbing, sensitive to any sensation, causing a soft, attractive moan from Jeongin as he feels your weight pressing down on him.

As soon as your body gets wet from the water, reaching just below your exposed breasts, it shivers and makes your nipples hard. Jeongin watches you from the curve between your jaw and shoulders and appreciates this so much that it makes him bite his lips. This is wrong in every way. He loves it.

Now he can’t resist you, so he makes sure to revel in every sensation of you, taking advantage of you and the situation as much as he can, so he brings his hands to your breasts, wetting your skin, massaging them gently at first, memorizing in the palm of his hand how malleable your hard nipples are against his skin. He adjusts the size of your breasts to his large hand and long fingers and kneads them to his liking for a hot and long minute.

The action turns you both on, but you bite your lip to hold back the pleasure. However, sitting on his hard cock and the very satisfying image of his hands on your body is difficult to ignore. Your pussy throbs, and you can feel yourself getting wet from the small action. Even so, Jeongin still finds your posture stiff and your expression nervous.

“Relax,” he whispers in your ear. “This will be the sweetest revenge you can get… because, it may not seem like it, but I am Serin’s weak spot.”

His ego amuses you, but your thoughts are interrupted as he unties your ponytail and casually throws the hair tie on the floor. He grabs your breasts more roughly, only to push you towards him, pressing your back against his chest. He breathes deeply into your neck, his soft panting still heavy, and you become infected by his intense arousal, but the kisses on your neck and shoulder completely destroy you. You try to relax your body little by little… but you remain stiff because of your skepticism about the situation—about you fucking Yang Jeongin.

But Jeongin’s statement is accurate. She is hopelessly in love with him. Serin has felt threatened by you for quite some time. From the first time she caught Jeongin watching you too closely, smiling softly every time you were around, talking to you about more than just work, asking you to come up to his office; since then she began to shorten your work schedule, conveniently when he was hardly ever home, and she also changed your uniform to one with a horribly long skirt. Everything is part of her strategy. Serin knows perfectly well that there’s an hour to go before 6 o’clock, Jeongin’s interview, and that he must hurry to be on time, leaving him outside the house. But Jeongin couldn’t care less about that magazine interview right now. He’s about to have you... and that means it can last as long as he pleases.

But Jeongin has had enough of talking about his wife. He’s about to enjoy you, to revel in and take advantage of every moment of having you. Just the two of you. Conspiring erotically for the same destruction.

“This will help me keep my mouth shut,” he says, squeezing your breasts harder, making you sigh. “... maybe.”

His right hand moves down your abdomen, his fingers spreading and slowly descending over your skin. His other hand remains clasped to your chest and occasionally intertwines with the other, taking both, massaging the one he desires, playing with your nipples, and, with his grip, keeping you immobile.

You sigh heavily, finding it increasingly difficult not to moan softly with pleasure. You feel helplessly aroused, your hands clutching your thighs, refusing to touch him.

“You look so beautiful like this,” he whispers, his lips and nose still brushing your neck.

Jeongin loves the sight of your rigid body and your soft, half-open mouth, surrendering to him, of you fighting against your great desire, of the subtle biting of your lips, of your heavy and sharp breathing that is affected by his every caress.

On the other hand, you don’t know what surprises you more, his compliment or the fact that you’re gently trembling over him and for him, fulfilling each of his fantasies. You watch his large hand dip into the water to caress your abdomen, and this time you let out a sigh as soon as his long fingers meet your pussy. Jeongin smiles at your reaction, feeling like a mischievous child, guilty, paranoid but full of pleasure, breathing heavily, heart racing—as if he were doing something naughty, discovering something new that has become his favorite secret pastime after being warned not to do it, not to touch it... and he delights himself by running two of his fingers lightly and roughly to separate your folds, sliding his fingers and feeling the entirety of your femininity.

Jeongin plays with you first, his touch memorizing and differentiating the wetness of your pussy, its warmth, compared to the light water that surrounds you; he also takes the time and dedication to explore your cunt, without shame, with joy, his long fingers getting lost in it, in the new sensation of your labia wrapped around his fingers... and finally finding your sensitive and throbbing clitoris, so ecstatic and excited that it makes you shudder as soon as he touches you, your muscles tighten, you reflexively try to close your legs, but he asks you to do the opposite.

“Open your legs. Enjoy,” he orders you in a whisper.

And you obey him, settling into him, provoking his erection even more by rubbing yourself gently against him. In your already highly aroused state of mind and weakness, Jeongin only needs the sweet, gentle movement of touching your sensitive spot to finish condemning you, to wet you beyond the warm water that kisses your intimacy.

You moan at his touch, his index and middle fingers begin to stimulate your clit, gently at first, circles that drive you crazy, make your nipples erect and leave you unable to think of anything else... it’s just exactly what you need, there, right there. Your pussy throbs hard, and you throw your head back, resting it on his shoulder. Your hands now cling to his thighs, and for a long moment, everything is perfect. He pleases you with touch and delicacy on your very sensitive spot... But he is skilled, ruthless, his long fingers can play with the rest of your pussy and clit at the same time, thus increasing his rhythm on impulse, pleasuring you in an almost violent overload, grazing the thin line of overstimulation... But something in you wants more and more, making you gasp and endure it, while every muscle in your pussy pulsates with more need.

He kisses your neck again, and another gasp escapes you at his exquisite sucking and biting of your skin. Leaving three marks on your skin that you would take care of later.

“Do you like it?” he asks you in a delicious, thick, hoarse voice.

You don’t answer. Your pride and shame are still strong, but your soft, restrained gasps are a solid answer and encouragement for him. Underneath your body, his cock still begs to be noticed. That’s when the heat reaches your cheeks and combines with the warmth and humidity of the room. You’re agitated... fantasizing about the sweetest of orgasms.

“Or are you one of those who likes to feel full?” he teases seductively.

After the subtle warning, Jeongin inserts two fingers into you, releasing your first whimper and a ragged sigh from him when his fingers finally meet your sweet insides, the soft, hot, and raw sensation of you. His fingers stretch you open enough, quickly adapting to him and enveloping him completely, but your thighs grow restless as he reaches a sweet spot inside you that no one has touched in a long time.

His right hand starts to fuck you underwater, his fingers curving perfectly for your entrance, provoking you almost to your deepest core, while his other hand continues to play with your breasts, pinching them, massaging them, and just when you think you’re getting a break from your stimulated clit, that restless hand returns to tease your delicious source of pleasure.

“Jeongin,” you whimper, needy and helpless, like something you were holding back.

You turn to look at him, your eyes shining, your noses touching, and in the heat of the moment, he takes the initiative to kiss you for the first time, tasting your lips innocently and purely at first… ignoring the fact of your aroused and swollen genitals and your dirty game… the sensation and movements of your lips on each other are those of newly confessed lovers, with your feelings on the surface. Both receive the other’s kiss, sensitively and slowly. And, just at the right moment, it becomes unrestrained, dirty, breathless.

You’re about to collapse on top of him, your thighs feel like they’re on fire, every stiff muscle tightens, and that’s the right signal for Jeongin, to finally take you, to taste your climax, but differently. He stops touching you and gently pulls away from your lips. You both look at each other breathlessly… not believing that you felt a momentary connection at the same time. But he comes back to his senses quickly, returning to that thought of sex and the reason he’s using you—he’s still desperate, he feels his testicles hard from not using them properly; he thinks he’s endured enough and longs with a deep desire to be inside you, now.

“I need you right now. You think you can take me?” he says, still breathless.

You nod, accelerating once the idea of him fucking you has permeated your mind. You look at him with a certain sweetness as you think his request is considerate and lift your lower body when you feel his hands on your waist. You think about how irresponsible, dirty, and hot it is to have to fuck him without protection.

Jeongin takes his wet, hard penis, growls at the touch of it being held, and leaves it there to align it with your entrance. With his other hand, he gently pushes you down, caresses his glans at your entrance, and as you bite your lip, you slowly lower yourself onto his erection. You both gasp at the sensation, experiencing it differently but feeling intense pleasure—you feel the thickness of his cock opening your entrance, going deeper and deeper into you, until it takes up its entire length, its large and impressive length that leaves you more than full. Jeongin feels your walls hugging, squeezing, and using him in the way he so desired.

The sound of the water moving is present, but it becomes more aggressive as soon as Jeongin asks you, “Move for me, ride me.”

The water moves to the rhythm as you lift your hips to slide onto his cock. At first, you ride him slowly, trying to take in his size, but as the thrusts continue, the situation becomes hotter, more breathless, and more desperate. Jeongin guides you by holding your waist and revels in the image of his cock disappearing and burying itself inside you. But the sex becomes fiercely intense and somewhat messy, playing with the water, you panting as you ride his cock until you feel your insides swollen, used, closer and closer to orgasm. Jeongin likes it… but he wants to feel your skin, your body, your insides without anything in between interrupting you.

“Bend over. Hold on to the tub,” he orders you exasperatedly.

Breathless, at first you don’t understand why you have to stop right in the middle of your almost-orgasm, but you obey—your body weak, agitated, completely surrendered, on your knees and holding on to the marble. You arch your back subtly, both bodies still wet, glistening with expensive bath oil and sex. Jeongin approaches you, on his knees, massaging your ass, then his left hand creeps up to your waist, while with the other he holds his hard erection, red, stimulated, also so close to ecstasy, and inserts it into you, deeply and without waiting.

You whimper, but you don’t have time to recover when he takes you forcefully and begins to penetrate you hard, using every inch of his dick inside you. Every part of your insides moves, and for a second you feel like it’s too much.

Jeongin is in heaven, grunting and using you to the fullest.

“I’ll fuck whenever I want” he grunts, almost babbling, mid-ecstasies. “I’ll fuck you when she’s not home, even if she’s here, just to destroy her. Fu—Fuck,” he whimpers, it’s like an exasperated confession, because once he’s tasted you… he thinks it’s hard to give up good sex like yours.

Your wet skin collides, his cock hits your cervix and stimulates you at the same time, deep and steady. At this point, Jeongin can appreciate the mess you’re making, dripping with pleasure, coating the skin of his cock with your sexual desire... until, once again, your body tenses intensely, you roll your eyes back, and you let yourself be carried away by the wonderful ride to your climax, ending just as you began, trembling at his touch.

When Jeongin is about to reach his orgasm, after yours, he continues to thrust into you, but your throbbing walls squeezing him tighter make him climax. He ejaculates, slowly, hot and tick. Cum still dripping out of you while he fucks you lazily through his quivering orgasm. This is all he needs.

“I told you, we could have revenge together,” he says again, breathless, his vision still distorted by the intense culmination.

You both remain still inside each other for a while, catching your breath... trying to block out any other thoughts, until the classic sound of the front door opening interrupts you.

i love cliffhangers u guys imagine the rest🤪

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