J-JINXEE

This is the last time, you swear to yourself, that you would willingly participate in a conversation with the nosy middle-aged aunties in your apartment complex. 

"You know you're running out of time," Mrs. Lee lectures. "It'll be good for you to have kids soon while you still have your youth."

Mrs. Park nods knowingly next to her as if her friend spouted something incredibly profound. What was supposed to be a quiet walk to retrieve a package from the mail room had once again turned into a conversation impossible to wiggle out of. 

"It's not our place to pry," Mrs. Park chimes in. "Your husband would probably want you to have one sooner rather than later, right? Hell! At his age, he’s old enough to even be your father-"

Mrs. Lee punches her blabbering friend's shoulder lightly in an attempt to shut her up. Mrs. Park rubs her shoulder, flustered but taking the hint.

"Thank you for your wonderful advice," you muster a polite smile, "If that’s all, I'll be heading back up. I hope you two have a good day."

You walk past the two with a small package in hand, turning the corner of the hallway. Being curt with them would be the only way to escape their intrusive grasp. However, you find yourself slowing your steps when you hear bits and pieces of their lowered voices.

"You!" Mrs. Lee grumbles at Mrs. Park. “Why would you mention such a sensitive topic to that poor girl?! I’m sure she sees how big their age gap is! There's no need to bring it up.”

Mrs. Park grumbles.

“That’s the least of her worries when it comes to that husband of hers,” Mrs. Park scoffs. “You know, I heard from the security guy that he’s been coming home late every night, all disheveled with bruises all over his neck..."

You hear Mrs. Lee gasp, and you can’t help it when your grip on the cardboard box tightens.

"No wonder she's looked so out of sorts these days,” Mrs. Lee sighs. “She used to have such a bright personality. Much prettier back then, too…"

You grind your teeth, tempted to walk back and ask the two to continue their conversation in front of you instead. You save yourself the embarrassment and walk towards the elevator. 

It’s not like anything they said was a lie. There was no use in getting angry about the truth being spoken out loud; you convince yourself.

You sit at the dinner table, watching as the clock strikes midnight. He probably won't come home tonight either, you think to yourself. 

Dinner is laid out so meticulously, two perfectly cooked salmon glistening with soy sauce glaze at the center of the table. All done by you to appease a husband who doesn’t even want to be home most of the time.

It’s the third night in a row he's been staying over at his lover's place. 

Married life with Kwon Sehoon, a man you met through your parents, was ultimately a passionless one.

Straddled in debt from starting a failed business, your parents had married you off to an older man who was willing to pay a pretty penny for a young and beautiful wife. 

You remember that day clearly, with you coming back home from an evening lecture, standing in front of your kneeling parents who begged you to save them from their financial ruin. The parents you once thought were invincible to pain and suffering were groveling right in front of you. So afraid of what the loan sharks would do to your parents, of having to pick up the pieces of their debt if they up and disappeared, you agreed. It seemed like the easy way out. 

Sehoon seemed nice enough during your first meeting. He told you almost immediately how he didn’t like women his age.

"Younger women don't drain you like the older ones do," he once said.

You remember feeling flattered at first, not knowing the gravity of his words until you really got to know him.

You got married shortly after completing your degree, and at first, Sehoon was absolutely fixated on you. He doted on you like a pet, showering you with gifts and compliments. He lived quite modestly for someone with an affluent job. His apartment, the one you live in now, was practically empty before you came into his life. He gave you free rein to decorate as you pleased and insisted that you buy anything you wanted with his card. 

He asked very little of you in return; all you had to do was be a good wife for him. And as you sit by yourself tonight, pondering his return, you feel like you failed even in that regard. Four years into marriage, you noticed the signs of waning interest trickle into everyday life.

His initial gestures of kindness led you to feel something akin to love towards him, just thankful that he didn’t treat your parents badly, like the loan sharks did. Though now that you look back, your affection seemed more akin to Stockholm Syndrome. 

Your parents had promised him a warm and caring stay-at-home wife. At the ripe age of 45, he expected a lot from you– more than you could possibly give in your early 20s. Inexperienced nights of lackluster sex would drive him into fits of annoyance, giving you days of silent treatment when you would reject his advances to explore unsavory kinks in the bedroom. 

You always tried to pick up the pieces, changing parts of yourself to match his ideal type of girl. Pleasant, obedient, and doll-like. It never worked.

He started accusing you of using him if you bought too many pastries from a bakery, immediately regulating your credit card use to groceries and household items. He started murmuring insults in hushed tones, knowing full well you could hear him. 

Everything you thought he was crumbled within the first year of marriage. Sehoon morphed into someone unrecognizable. You never fathomed being in a situation where a man who wanted you so badly now wanted to act like you never existed. You never thought he could betray you after all the hoops he went through to have your hand in marriage.

You remember that night, just a year ago, when you heard his quiet voice in the bathroom. He was talking to someone over the phone. You couldn’t help but listen by the door that was slightly left ajar. Sehoon had been in such a bad mood at the time, lashing out at you at every chance he got.

"I miss you," he sighs lovingly, and you feel your heart sink. You hadn't heard him talk in such a gentle tone in years. "She's such a prude, you know? Always tenses up when I touch her. She can't even get me hard. I wish I were with you instead."

He cackled as the pit that you've always felt in your stomach when you were with him expanded. Though the affection you had for him had already waned by then, your husband's infidelity still felt like a shot to the chest. You wasted so many years trying to be who he wanted you to be, only for him to toss you to the side like an old toy with no batteries.

You were ashamed to say you followed him once during his escapades, watching across a dark alleyway as he entered a seedy hotel with a young beauty in his arms. Though she looked nothing like you, she reminded you of yourself. She seemed so nervous, so eager to please that treacherous man. All you could feel was pity, unsure if it was more for her or for yourself.

"You know I can't leave her right now, my love," he hummed into the phone, and you couldn’t help but gag. "I took her parents' debt in my name. I'm still paying it off. I feel nothing with her, I promise! Bitch can't even give a proper blowjob. She’s nothing like you."

Disgust seeped through your whole body that night. You couldn't even bear to face him in the bed you shared, tears welling up at the thought of having to be with him for any longer.

Your parents pleaded with you to hold out until the debt was fully repaid, until he no longer had control over them. Sehoon, ever the calculating person he was, wrote a clause stating that if you were to ever ask for a divorce, you would have to pay him back the remaining debt he still owed the loan sharks.

With no job and no escape plan, you had fallen into his trap. Sehoon would be the one to decide whether he ever wanted to set you free.

You wait another 30 minutes, packing the leftovers on the table into the refrigerator when he doesn't show up. Your duties as a wife did not and could not stop even after finding out about his affair. Sehoon reported every mistake and any sign of resistance to your parents. He knew the power they held over you, about your unwavering need to appease them. They scold you over the stories they hear from him, and you attempt to right every wrong to mold yourself into what he wanted.

But he doesn't know one thing, you think to yourself as you head to your shared bedroom. You lock the door, just in case.

You pull your phone out and open Twitter without hesitation. Typing away, you draft up a post that reads like every other one of your complaints about your mundane life.

housewifeblues: husband left me home alone again… how can you leave your wife like this, feeling so lonely?

But you know that’s not why 2.4k people follow you. 

You peel your shirt off your body, unclasping your bra and positioning yourself under the dim lights of the city outside your window. You let out a deep breath, psyching yourself up for what you’re about to do. You push out and accentuate the curves of your breasts as you arch your back forward.

You snap a few pictures with only the lower half of your face and naked chest visible.

You bite your nails as you hesitate to hit the ‘post’ button. You do it after a few seconds of indecisiveness. It’s not like it’s your first post, so why do you still feel so nervous? To Sehoon, you may be undesirable, but your online persona was worshipped like a goddess by so many.

The attention and validation of those who lusted after you on the internet filled in the hole of loneliness that Sehoon had opened in you. 

The noticeable birthmark above your breasts was a point of self-consciousness since the start of your marriage. Sehoon always pushed you to have it removed, stating it was unsightly against your skin. But the thousands of followers who complimented it constantly led you to cancel that appointment. It gave you a sense of pride knowing that you could drown out your husband's harsh words with the positivity of your online fans.

Your followers enjoyed how openly you talked about your miserable marriage, your qualms about being a housewife, and your husband's infidelity. Your posts garnered traction from those who relate to your struggles and those who fetishize them. At some point, you stopped caring what kind of person interacted with your posts. You just wanted to bask in some flattering words for once.

The likes had started to roll in, but at an abnormal pace. Since when was your engagement this high? You see in your notification tab that someone named "yawnszn" retweeted your post almost immediately after you uploaded it.

yawnszn: if he doesn’t want you, i volunteer as tribute

You catch yourself chuckling. Who was this?

Clicking on his profile picture, a page pops up of a bright red-haired man with a mole underneath his right eye, wearing a black face mask. 300k followers? And he was reposting your content? You rub your eyes to check if you were seeing correctly.

Intrigued, you scroll down and you almost drop your phone from the shocking imagery that fills your screen. The pinned video on his feed was of him, stroking his perfectly curved length with such focused concentration. He was thick beyond comprehension, veins so beautifully etched on the underside of his heaviness.

You hesitantly click on the video, cheeks warming at the lewd sounds that start to echo through the bedroom.

"You like that?" he would say in between grunts of pleasure. "I bet you do, huh? Bet you wanna make a mess all over me."

His brows were furrowed, glistening chest heaving as he resisted the urge to buck his hips up into his large hands. If only you could see him with that stupid mask off.

The stranger was methodical with his strokes, slowing his relentless pace when he teetered too close to his high. He was edging himself into a stronger and more drawn-out climax, rolling his head back onto his chair as Adam's apple bobbed up and down. 

Though his eyes were covered by wispy bangs, you could feel their intensity through the screen. The way he squinted and scrunched his nose in pleasure, staring daggers into the camera. He could tell you to lick the bottom of his shoe and you would probably do it. 

Wait–what?

You exit the app in a hurry, attempting to calm yourself. You were having very bad thoughts, ones you never even felt with your own husband. It wasn't right to think these things about another man, you tell yourself, as your thighs clench together from where you sat on your bed.

When Sehoon surprisingly comes home at 4 a.m., with his back turned towards you on the bed, you pretend to sleep. You replay the video of yawnszn in your head over and over again. You can't help but feel pathetic to feel so hot and heavy over a man retweeting you while your husband still reeks of another woman.

As Sehoon snores loudly next to you, you find yourself typing another post.

housewifeblues: he’s home with hickies on his neck... why does he even bother coming back?

It’s almost instant, the masked man’s reply. You bring a hand to your mouth to stifle a gasp.

yawnszn: let’s make it even. i can leave some on your pretty neck, too

You suppress a giggle that threatens to leave your lips. You stare back and forth between Sehoon’s hunched back and your phone to this masked man’s profile. There’s no harm in flattery, is there?

It's like an addiction, scrolling through his page on your burner account. You don't even follow him back on your main, but you can't help but refresh for more content. He posts daily, with livestreams every Friday. You tune in when Sehoon isn't around, which is almost all the time. Guilt is etched into your heart whenever you see his notifications, despite your husband's own infidelity not affecting his own psyche.

"Such fucking sluts," Yeonjun would scold his chat with his red hair pushed seductively away from his forehead. He plunges a plush fleshlight roughly down his pulsing cock. "You wish this were you riding me, huh? Too fucking bad."

The urge to touch yourself worsens after each livestream, but you hold out. You couldn't let yourself stoop to Sehoon's level. It’s not like you enjoyed posting photos with racy captions, you promise! It’s just a hobby, one that elicited flirty responses from a man you were very attracted to. You admit, maybe some photos were posted for him. He just didn’t know it.

During a livestream, you remember him talking about his love for doggy style. The next day, you miraculously posted a photo of your face planted on a pillow with your underwear-clad body arched eagerly with your ass in the sky.

housewifeblues: never been fucked in this position.

You swear it isn’t just for him specifically, even when you can’t wipe the stupid grin off your face at his comment the next day.

yawnszn: i think you need to take the picture at a better angle from behind… need help with that?

Even as you squirm in the shower and in the bed at the thought of a red-haired man plowing into you, you vowed to not be tempted to interact with him on your main account.

You were better than that, you convinced yourself. Better than Sehoon.

You're in the bed this time, lacy pink bra in full display on your phone’s camera. Your nipples are peaking through, and you lay your hand atop your chest to emphasize their shape. Tonight, you wanted to tease your followers. 

yawnszn’s constant interactions with your page fueled you to post more frequently. You found different angles and poses, anything that would let you stay relevant (and always on yawnszn’s feed). At some point, you noticed his likes and retweets were filled with only you.

It made your heart flutter at the thought of him being just as obsessed with you as you were with him.

And even better, it was a Friday. You chuckle to yourself as you lie on your stomach, clicking on his profile like clockwork. His room looked emptier than usual, with boxes piled up in the corner. The red-haired man's toned body finally comes into frame, gleaming with sweat from the warm lighting of his floor lamp. He looked like he had just finished working out.

"Wow," he stares at the chat, voice muffled by his mask. "Must be real fucking horny to join so early."

You let out a chuckle. It felt like he was actually talking to you.

"Some new names in here," he says as he sinks into his chair, carefully unzipping his jeans. His abdomen glistened with sweat, white briefs peeking through his unzipped jeans. He reads comment after comment, palming his bulge almost mindlessly.

You groan in frustration, wishing he were quicker at taking his stupid pants off. You feel almost compelled to comment just that– and so you did.

You: you’re teasing us…

His eyes scan the screen, and you can tell he seems genuinely shocked by something despite his masked expression.

"Well, look who it is," he laughs darkly as he starts to grip his clothed member more roughly. "Thanks for tuning in, housewifeblues. I didn't take you for such an eager viewer, pretty girl."

Your blood turns cold. Did he just say your username? But that couldn't be possible. You were on your burner account. Unless-

You scroll up to your comment, clearly showing the profile picture of half of your face and cleavage as the commenter. Burying your face into your pillow to let out a scream of sheer humiliation, you kick your feet in the air.

This can't be real.

"I'm flattered," yawnszn continues, not knowing the stages of grief you were going through. "I've been thinking about those pretty tits all day."

He pulls out his throbbing cock. It looked painful, you thought. His fingers traced over his angry tip, red and beating like it ached for release. 

You swallow, mouth watering at the view. His head was leaned back now, stroking himself languidly as his tongue swiped over his bottom lip. You clench your pillow.

"Why don't we have some fun together, hm?" he asks teasingly, his hand pumping with half the force he usually uses. "I bet I could make you feel so good, baby. We can make your useless ass husband watch if you want."

You let out a small whimper, scanning over the comments from equally shocked viewers.

"god I'd pay good money to see you two fuck"

"me next?"

“is this ur kink?”

"stop talking about another bitch!!!"

He chuckles, reading the last one.

"My jealous babies," he teases, tugging his hair back with his unoccupied hand and showing his beautiful forehead. "There’s plenty of me to go around."

A wave of possessiveness washes over you, suddenly conscious that this wasn't just for you. He was selling his fantasy to all the viewers who watched him. There was no affection there, only the delusions of your touch-starved self. You feel a sudden pang of guilt in your chest. You wanted this stranger so badly, but you couldn’t have him. You're married. And it wasn't up to anyone else but Sehoon to change that.

"I'd fuck you on every surface I could get you on," he sighs out so sensually, pumping himself in a steady rhythm. "Have you begging for my cock until you're dependent on it."

Though tears well in your eyes from the mix of humiliation and regret, you rest your head on the pillow and grind against your mattress to the sounds of his arousal. 

"And you'd thank me each time I give it to you, wouldn’t you?" he laughs dryly. "Because that's all you want, right? Want me deep down in your throat. In your pussy. You'd even let me fuck your ass too, huh, baby?"

The comments flood in with crazed sentences, and you are no better.

You whimper at the vulgarity of his words, back arched against absolutely nothing. You wish he were positioned right behind you with those long fingers of his curling inside your deepest parts, coaxing your climax out of you. You’re almost tempted to slide a hand up your shirt, until you hear a familiar jangling of keys.

Quickly standing up, you exit that God forsaken app. Smoothing out your clothes, you prepare yourself to be ignored by Sehoon once again. He moves past you to walk to the bathroom, no greeting exchanged whatsoever. Your cheeks warm with frustration.

"Dinner is in the fridge," you say plainly. You sit back down on the bed, grabbing the phone to make sure his livestream was no longer playing. A few minutes pass, and you mindlessly stare at the wall as you hear your husband grumbling and mumbling in the bathroom. A notification pops up on your phone.

yawnszn has sent you a private message.

You feel the acceleration of your pulse almost immediately and check it against your better judgment.

yawnszn: come back, baby. i wasn't done with you yet. was putting on that show just for you ;)

You cover your mouth to stifle a scream, but immediately straighten your posture and harden your expression when Sehoon comes out of the bathroom. He reeks of cigarette smoke and cheap motel sheets. 

“Would it hurt you to smile once in a while?" he sneers. “Look so fucking creepy all the time.”

You muster up a small grin, one that doesn't meet the eyes. All he does is sigh. 

"Can't even follow simple instructions," he grumbles, slamming the door behind him. "Just leeching off me like a fucking parasite..."

You purse your lips. Sehoon always knew which words would hurt you the most, like he practices them in the mirror before he throws them at you. At one point, you wanted to be good for him. Wanted to show him that you could be the respectable wife he always wanted you to be. 

So, how the hell did it end up like this?

What were you doing, squealing like a teenage girl over some camboy on the internet? You shake your head rapidly, quickly deleting the message yawnszn sent. You didn't even get a chance to put your phone back on your lap when you heard another buzz. 

It's him again.

yawnszn: i wanna show you how a real man could make you feel. won't you let me?

And though you wanted nothing more, you leave him on ‘seen’.

An entire week goes by, and it was another Friday you couldn’t help but anticipate. You tried to stop viewing his page, you really did. But when the nights got cold and loneliness seeped through your bones, you couldn’t help but reread the messages yawnszn would boldly send you.

Today, you vowed not to think about that red-haired devil.

As you walk past the boxes stacked in the hallway, you make your way towards the unit right next to your apartment with Sehoon. A new neighbor was moving in. From sandwiches to tea cookies, you had spent your entire day making treats for the new addition to the ever-so-nosy apartment complex. With a cautious knock at the door, you stand in front of the unit with a basket of your handmade foods. 

Sehoon had conditioned you to be a good neighbor, never wanting Mr. Do's family on the second floor to look better than him after they gave everyone in the building a bottle of whiskey for New Year's. He forced you to greet new tenants and make cards for everyone's birthdays so he could soak in the compliments of having such a loving and kind wife. Meanwhile, he never even bothered to learn the names of the people on your floor.

He always assumed with your "immense amount of free time as a housewife" that all of these responsibilities would be handled by you. You roll your eyes at the thought. He couldn't even bother to take showers to get rid of his mistress's rancid scent. Did he really think people in this apartment thought he was a good husband?

You almost knock again until your new neighbor finally opens the door. He's tall, wearing a tight-fitting black hoodie. It wasn't zipped up fully, and his naked chest was slightly visible underneath. Was he wearing nothing under? 

You look up and tense at the sight. Red hair and black face mask. Mole under his right eye. You blink rapidly, almost as if his face would morph if you did it fast enough. It can't be… But who else could fit his description much better? This had to be yawnszn.

“Hello?” he greets, confused. His voice sends shivers down your spine. Was it wrong to assume that every strikingly red-haired man with fierce eyes and wearing a mask was your online crush? 

"Hi," you say, stomping down the stutter that wanted to come out. "I'm [Y/N], your next-door neighbor. My husband and I wanted to welcome you to the building with some treats."

He looks past the top of your head as if searching for someone behind you. 

"Where is this husband?" he asks in a teasing manner. You bite back a frown. Wasn't it a little inappropriate to ask these things?

"He's at work," you say plainly. 

"I'll only give my thanks to you then," he replies, resting his body on the doorframe. You feel electricity course through your veins as he brushes your hand softly, taking the basket from your tightened grip.

"I would love to repay you," he says, leaning his head toward your flustered face. You shy away from his gaze, suddenly uncomfortable that you're wearing a V-neck shirt as he looks down at you. You sense a flash of emotion in his gaze, quickly replaced by a gentle stare.

Did he know it was you? 

No, that’s ridiculous, you thought to yourself. How could he even tell?

"No need," you reply, embarrassingly quickly as you take a step back. "We don't expect anything in return."

"I insist," he says slyly. "Once I'm all settled in, I'll come see you."

He looks around the hallway again before bringing his masked mouth to your ear.

“Hopefully, when he’s not home.”

You freeze at his words as he closes the door with a small wave and a mischievous glint in his eyes. As soon as you rush to your apartment, you cross-examine his profile picture with the memory you had of your neighbor’s features. He didn’t even tell you his name! You scream into your living room cushion. You shake your head. 

Nothing will come out of this, you try to convince yourself. He was just being friendly. 

You stand up, ready to busy yourself with chores around the house to distract yourself from the feeling of dread forming in the pit of your stomach. He said he was stopping by, and you couldn't tell whether the funny feeling in your stomach was butterflies or something far more sinister… You touch your ear from where you felt his warm breath. Perhaps desire?

Later that day, you wait anxiously for his stream to start. Your back was against the headboard of your bed, twiddling your fingers from anticipation. Triple-checking, you made sure you were on your burner account this time. You click the notification as soon as it comes, and his empty room comes into view.

You stiffen at the new format, not at all like his old set-up. In fact, the walls and floor were the exact same shade as your own room. You groan, looking at the wall that faced your new neighbor’s place. That guy was definitely yawnszn. 

His masked figure is already naked, save for the white towel draped around his waist and his signature black mask.

"Moved into my new place," he says to the chat. "Like my new room?"

He scans the comments and sighs in disappointment. 

"Did I scare my baby away?" Your eyes widen. Was he looking for your username?

You can tell he's pouting through the mask, and you can't help but smile. Fuck. Why was this man so irresistibly hot and annoyingly cute at the same time?

"I don’t wanna do solo streams anymore, guys," he whines, his bulge already evident through the thin towel. You wonder how he's able to get hard so quickly.

"Wanna show y'all a different side of me," he sighs, dropping his towel to reveal the growing heaviness underneath. "Show you I'm not just all talk."

You clench your thighs, tensing when his large palm finds his towering length. He was always so vocal during his sessions, and even now, as he has barely just started, he was a mumbling mess. He’s seated now, clenched eyes in full view as he strokes himself in drawn-out movements.

Your eyes widen. You can hear him, but not just on video. His sounds reverberated through the wall. It's like you’re in the room with him as he's hunched over, drowning in his own pleasure.

"Don't be jealous when I bring someone in, okay?" he teases the chat that’s filled with comments of disapproval. "Just think it's you that I'll be fucking. Imagine how I’d cum inside a real pussy. How I’d shove it all back in. Doesn’t that sound nice? Making that pussy full of me."

You bite your lip at the thought, clenching the sheets beneath you as you hear his dirty whispers from the wall. 

You didn’t want that, you thought to yourself darkly. You didn’t want to see him, moaning and talking so filthy like this, with anyone. You couldn’t bear it. You were already suffering at the thought of your husband fucking his much younger mistress, you couldn’t lose yawnszn too. He was the only sense of freedom you felt in your dull, repeating life.

As crazy as you felt, you sat up to press your ear against the wall to hear him better. Your fingers dangerously ghost over your pajama shorts.

"Wanna have sex so bad, baby," he whines out. "Won't you let me?"

You let out a squeak. You can't take your eyes off his perfectly sculpted body, nor could you take your ear off the wall that separated the two of you in real life. You feel like a sick, deranged pervert. Your twisted desires are egging you on as your hand trails down your stomach and into your underwear. Your fingers run up your slit, already so wet from just watching him.

"I'd have you on your fucking knees," he sighs out, letting out that grunting sound he does when he's nearing his climax. "Take you from behind. You'd have to beg me to get off of you. I'd be in that pussy every day, every fucking night."

Your eyes roll back at the thought. Your pace quickens with his, drawing rapid circles on your swollen bud. You're grinding down against your own fingers, searching for something that you knew only this intoxicating stranger could give you. In some way, the fact that you are masturbating next to your oppressive husband’s pillow made everything feel that much more erotic. He doesn’t need to know how another man makes you feel.

"Gonna cum," his nose scrunches. "Fuck, fuck, fuck..."

As white, hot liquid spurts out of his beautiful cock, you let out a silent scream as you come undone yourself. With your right hand sticky with your climax, you feel tears well up in your eyes. What the fuck were you doing?

The next day, you see your mysteriously masked neighbor in the halls. It was instinct to give a small smile, tensing as he approached your cowering figure.

“Do you need help with that?” he asks. You blink back your confusion as he gestures at your fistful of groceries. You completely forgot you were holding them the moment you saw him.

“N-no,” you reply a little too quickly. “I’m almost at my door.” 

He chuckles. He attempts to grab one of the heavy-looking ones from you, but you dodge him just in time. The red-haired man had no idea what you did last night because of him. You felt dirty just being in his presence.

“I’m happy to help, you know?” he insists. “You don’t have to carry that all by yourself.”

Your grip on the groceries tightens. In all the years you were married to Sehoon, he never offered to help you with anything once. If it had nothing to do with finances or working, the rest was handled by you. It was sad to feel so happy hearing such minuscule gestures of kindness come from your neighbor of all people.

“I’ll let you know if I ever need it,” you smile at him, genuinely. To your surprise, he ruffles you on the head affectionately. He leans down, his face at the same level as yours.

“I’m Yeonjun,” he whispers as if he were saying a deep, dark secret. “I forgot to tell you yesterday.”

His name. He finally told you his name. How beautiful it sounds on those unseen lips. 

His eyes meet yours, and for a second, you just want to lean in and kiss him through that stupid mask. But he stands up straight, towering over you once again.

“Don’t be a stranger, [Y/N],” he says teasingly, walking away with his hands shoved down his jean pockets. Your heart flutters, and your attempts to push down the butterflies in your stomach were thwarted once again.

It’s like you see him everywhere now. From the convenience store down the street to the garden rooftop of your apartment complex. Yeonjun seemed to permeate every part of your existence, offline and online. Though he was probably unaware of how often you were posting in your underwear just to get a flirtatious response from him in your comments, you swore he was flustering you on purpose.

The way he would casually help you out of carrying heavy packages from your hands when you’d see him in the apartment lobby, or how he would casually talk about missing “housewifeblues” at the start of each stream. He was driving you crazy.

You weren’t an idiot; you knew his intentions. And though you keep your interactions as polite as possible, you find out a little too much about the man you’ve been lusting over for the past few weeks. 

Yeonjun tells you he doesn’t have many friends. He moved back home recently after doing university abroad and working there for a bit. He’s close with his mother and talks to her over the phone every day. He volunteers at pet sanctuaries over the weekends and wants to get a cat of his own someday. But when you pry, asking him how he’s able to afford the high rent your husband was paying for this swanky apartment complex at such a young age, he avoids answering completely. Simply says “I work a remote job,” but you know better.  

You know how he posts on OnlyFans daily, subscriptions increasing after every sensual stream where he gets paid thousands a night to pleasure himself on camera.

It’s one of those days when you run into him in the hallway. You’re wearing a tank top and yoga pants, and you just finished an at-home workout routine while you waited for your laundry to finish drying. You were exiting your place to make a quick run to the grocery store to prepare dinner for the night. 

Yeonjun was walking back to his apartment, eyes scanning you as you gave him a weak greeting. 

“Heading out?” he asks in a low tone, hands in his pockets. You nod, growing nervous at his intense gaze. He’s eyeing you over now, and you don’t notice how he hyperfixates on a certain area of your chest.

“My husband wants me to cook pasta tonight, and I forgot some ingredients,” you lie through your teeth, always feeling an urge to mention Sehoon in Yeonjun’s presence. Like you had to remind yourself that you still have one.

“Can’t he pick them up for you?” he asks inquisitively. You let out a small laugh at the suggestion.

“Dinner should be done before a husband gets home from work,” you say, as if it were routine. It’s what your mom would tell you. It’s what Sehoon would tell you. So why did you feel so small when Yeonjun looked at you with such pity in his eyes?

“If I were him,” he steps forward, brushing a stray hair from your flushed face. “I wouldn’t let my pretty wife cook all by myself.”

Your breath hitches as he looks at you. What you would give to have him. What would you do to keep that same expression on your face at all times? It wasn’t fair, you thought to yourself, that you should be subjected to a life of dissatisfaction when the one who could cure it was so near. 

“Are you free tomorrow?” he asks, the feeling of his hand still lingering by your ear.

“I always am,” you softly reply. And to that, he smiles.

You couldn’t look away, even as he walked away. 

“I’ll see you soon then.”

You hear the doorbell ring. Today was your deep cleaning day. You already washed the dishes, watered all the plants, and got dinner started. It was also the day after yesterday, which meant Yeonjun was coming over.

You open the door a little too eagerly. It was a little pathetic, you admit to yourself, how much you wanted to see him.

His livestream after your conversation yesterday was intense, more so than usual. He propped his phone on his bathroom counter, stroking himself in the shower. You searched for his moans in your walls, imagining his hands on you like they were just hours prior. You ached to hear him, addicted to the way he sounded since the last time you watched him live and heard him through the walls.

Shaking your head to prevent yourself from getting carried away by your thoughts, you finally open the door.

It was him, red hair and all.

"Hey," your masked neighbor greets you with a bag in his hand. "I brought some cake. I finally got around to finishing everything in the welcome basket. They were all so delicious, thank you."

"You shouldn't have," you say politely, holding back your giddiness. "My husband’s at work right now, but I'll save some for him later."

He holds the bag up to you, and you take it from him cautiously, careful not to touch him. You hope he doesn’t notice the way your fingers quiver.

"Oh?" he looks past you at the empty apartment. "It's already dinner time, though?"

You smile sadly.

"He's not actually home that often," you say, trying to push down the bitterness in your voice. “He gets busy.”

You can't tell from his mask whether he feels sorry for you, but his eyes do seem rather intense.

"Shall we eat the cake together then?" he suggests. "I like sweet things."

Your heartbeat quickens. The only man who has ever set foot in your apartment was Sehoon and your father. It felt wrong to invite him in, but it felt even more wrong to say no to him. And so you take a step back as an invitation for this stranger (who isn't really a stranger) into your tidy space.

He's sitting next to you on the couch, a healthy distance away from you. He slices the cake evenly between you two, handing you the small plastic fork that came with the bakery.

"It's so rare for neighbors to greet each other these days," he commends you. "When you showed up at my door, I thought I was in a movie.”

“It’s just common courtesy,” you reply. “I’ve done it for everyone who’s moved into the complex.”

He chuckles.

“If I had known I'd be moving in next to someone so kind and beautiful, I would have signed my lease sooner."

You smile at his compliment, warmth seeping into your cheeks. You take a bite out of the cake. Strawberry shortcake. Your favorite. You notice that familiar gaze of his as it lingers on you. His foxy eyes scan you up and down slowly, and you'd never felt more exposed in your life despite being fully clothed.

"What a waste of a husband," he starts, leaning into you slowly, "to neglect you."

You freeze under his fiery gaze. His voice sounded different, unlike his playful teasing in the hallways. No, this was not Yeonjun. This was the camboy who moans out dirty words through unrelenting thrusts into his hand, biting back at viewers who command him to take it slow. 

The fork falls from your mouth and onto your lap as he inches closer.

"You deserve a better man," he says closely in your ear. "Someone who doesn’t leave you lonely."

You hold a shaky hand against his chest, preventing him from getting closer.

“What do you mean?”

He’s grinning underneath the mask. 

"[Y/N]," he draws your name out teasingly. "You're on a naughty part of Twitter, aren't you?"

You bring your hand down in an attempt to seem normal, but your nervous lip biting fails to make you look even remotely convincing.

"I have no idea what you're-"

"Don't worry," he interrupts, laying his arm around the couch behind you. "I'm not planning to dox you or anything."

He digs his phone out of his pocket with his other hand and shows you a sight you're already so familiar with: his Twitter profile.

"Look," he says, carelessly scrolling through his lewd content right in front of you like it was normal. "I know you know who I am. Like how I know who ‘housewifeblues' is.”

No, you tell yourself. This can’t be happening. 

"Listen, Yeonjun," you start carefully. "I don't know what you're talking about or who you think I am, but I don't feel comfortable continuing this conversation with you."

You can sense a smirk behind that damn mask of his.

"You know you don't do a very good job of hiding who you are," he chides. “Not very quiet when you’re touching yourself either.”

Your eyes widen, and he lets out a muffled laugh.

 "I didn't even have to see your beauty mark to know it was you, baby,” he continues lazily. “The way you looked when I mentioned your husband the first time I met you was enough for me to know. Reminded me about all the times you complained about him with those pretty pictures of yours."

His eyes fixated on your beauty mark and back up to your face, revelling in the way you nipped at your bottom lip anxiously.

"You don’t understand,” he whispers, his hand ghosting over your cheek. “How often I imagine it’s your hands on me when I go live.”

"Oh," you purse your lips, attempting to prevent noises of pleasure from coming out of your mouth.

"What's wrong?" he gazes into you. "Cat got your tongue?"

Yeonjun’s large hand hovers over your breasts, and you unknowingly arch your back toward him like it was instinct. When he sees nothing but lust clouding your vision, he takes a mound in his palm and massages you gently. You gasp at the feeling. It's been ages since you've been touched like this.

He kneads with both hands this time, intently watching your face for any signs of discomfort. But all he could see were your furrowed brows in pure ecstasy. He scoots closer to you, dragging his fingers across your abdomen as he lifts your shirt. Yeonjun's gaze darkens, your bare tits heavy in his hands. He massages, circling your nipples. They’re stiff from the cool air and his prodding fingers. Your head rolls back, moans coming out in meek bursts.

"I h-have a husband," you stutter out in between moans. It comes out like you’re reminding yourself more than to remind him. Yeonjun’s back rests on the couch, dragging you so that your spine is against his chest. He continues the push and pull of his eager hands on your breasts as you sit between his legs. 

"According to you," he starts, burying his masked face into your cheek, directly whispering into your ear. "He's already cheating, isn't he? Is it fair that he gets to have all the fun?"

You rest your head back onto his shoulder as he continues to tease you, pulling at your erect nipples harshly and then soothing them with his soft thumbs. 

It’s like he’s debating something in those furrowed brows of his, and when you roll your hips back into his, it feels like something snapped. Yeonjun pulls his mask down in one swift motion, and you almost moan out loud at the sight of his gorgeous face. 

His features are simultaneously sharp and soft, his lips so full and so kissable. No wonder he kept his face hidden; he was too dangerous for the internet to see. Everyone would fall in love. He'd be swarmed on the streets. Wars would be waged over him.

"I wanna fuck you so bad," he says, his gaze following your parted mouth. His face hovers over yours, and you shut your eyes in anticipation. It's almost soft the way his lips meet yours, slowly molding you to follow his rhythm. He pushes his tongue into your mouth gently, prodding so deeply that your saliva mixes with his. He grinds up into you from behind, the tent of his pants meeting the curve of your ass at a perfect angle. 

You kiss him back with an equal amount of fervor. You push yourself against him harder, eliciting a stifled moan from him.

Images of Sehoon flash in your mind, but are immediately erased as Yeonjun grounds your hips into his. He pulls down your pants hurriedly, his mouth never leaving yours. You spread yourself wide for him. You knew for the first time in your life what you wanted. He runs his finger through the wet spot of your lacy lilac underwear, latching his index finger to do small circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves just above your slit. His tongue clashing with yours as you attempt to stifle the low moans coming out of your throat.

He parts from your lips slowly, a trail of saliva connecting the two of you. He looks down to where he's touching you, a shit-eating grin on his gorgeous face. So that’s how he smiles, you think to yourself, lost in the feeling of his fingers on the soft material of your cloth-covered clit. 

His pace is slow and methodical, leaving you conflicted on whether you should grind down on his twitching cock or buck your hips into his coaxing ministrations. It's not enough for you, but you'll take anything he can give.

"You're so wet already, baby," he croons. "Your underwear is soaked."

You whine when Yeonjun stops his movements suddenly, searching for friction by thrusting up into his still palm. You whine in relief when he pushes your panties to the side, running a teasing finger up and down your bare slit. 

"Fuck," he looks over your shoulder and past your chest, to get a better look at the effect he has on you. He inserts his middle finger in, your folds practically engulfing him with a loud squelch. In and out, it disappears into you with fervor and stretches you out so deliciously. Everything about him was so long, you couldn’t imagine what his dick would feel like.

"You swallowed my finger so well, baby. Think you can fit another?"

You nod, breathing so heavy you can't find it in yourself to quell your anticipation.

"Yes," you practically plead. Yeonjun chuckles.

"Lift your hips up," he directs you, planting another open-mouthed kiss on your lips as you follow him mindlessly. "I'm gonna take these panties off you, okay?"

You nod again, your feet high in the air so your godforsaken underwear could finally be removed. He pumps his finger, now slow and controlled. When he feels you loosen up a bit, he inserts his index finger in too, with slightly more resistance from your tightness. You groan, from both pain and pleasure. His hands were so big. So veiny. The way he curled his fingers up to reach a spot you never knew you had in you. Fuck, you felt so full already.

You don't know how it happens or how you got there, but you're on your back as Yeonjun hovers over you, pistoning his fingers in and out at a faster pace. His palm is grinding down on your mound, hitting every right spot as his fingers scissor into you. His tongue finds yours again, battling for dominance to distract you from the dull ache of being stretched out. He inserts a third finger in, and your eyes roll to the back of your head. You’re not sure your body could take it, but you would. For him. His fingers, so thick and relentless, buried deeper inside your aching folds.

"I feel weird," you say as a bubbling and fiery sensation starts at your toes. You’re a muttering mess. "Never... felt.. this… good…"

Yeonjun chuckles, purposefully removing his fingers inside of you slowly, preventing you from reaching that elusive high you didn’t know you were chasing. Your hips meet the sky, mourning the loss of his touch. He traces featherlight kisses down your body, his face now directly in front of your pretty cunt.

"Your husband's never made you feel like this, baby?" he says, giving a few teasing kisses on your inner thigh.

"N-no," you cry out loud. "H-he's never even gone down there."

He stops his lapping to look up at you.

"He's never eaten you out?" he scoffs. "What a fucking loser."

Yeonjun dips his head between your legs and drags his tongue along your wet folds in one long stroke. He laps at you like a dog, addicted to your nectar on his lips. 

“Oh my god, Yeonjun-”

Your toes curl as he buries his tongue in you. He pumps it in and out of you as his hands grip your ass so tightly, you start to think you’d bruise from it. Or maybe it was wishful thinking. The fiery sensation building inside you returns almost immediately.

He peppers kisses on your mound, his mouth finding its new target. He sucked your clit hard, tongue circling your bundle of nerves until your stomach starts to tighten. Yeonjun lifts your hips up, pushing his face deeper into your folds. You clench around nothing, whining at both the pleasure and the loss of his tongue fucking into you. As if he read your mind, Yeonjun’s fingers find their way back to your folds. Teasing the entrance, you push yourself up into him, burying his digits deep in you as he continues his attack on your clit. Yeonjun licks and prods like a man starved of food, relishing in the messiness coating his chin and the addicting melody of your moans.

Your hips stutter as you feel the waves crash down on you. 

"Ahhh," you whine. Your body writhed underneath him, fingers clawing the couch armrest above your head.

You plant your heels onto the couch with shaky legs, and you cry out again. You feel something, whatever it is, building inside you. Your moans come out in panicked bursts until you start to see white, your juices spraying all over Yeonjun's face. He groans at the feeling, still burying his face into you. He lets you ride out your high as you grind languidly onto his nose. It takes him years until he pulls away, chuckling at your fucked out face and splayed out hair.

"You squirt, baby?" he teases, getting back on his knees to tower over your lying figure on the couch. "To think you couldn't get more perfect."

You shake your head, chest heaving up and down.

"I didn’t know I could do that," you confess. Yeonjun laughs in response, a little distracted. He pulls his hair back away from his face, his forehead glistening against your warm living room light. You want to kiss those pouty lips of his again. Your eyes travel downwards, to his strained gray sweatpants. Though you couldn’t see it, you knew. He was bigger, much bigger in real life.

“He doesn’t know what to do with you,” he mutters to himself, his thumb finding your lips. “Can’t get you wet like I do, huh?”

You nod mindlessly, taking his thumb into your mouth as he pushes your tongue down with it.

“Probably fake your orgasms with him, hm?” His eye contact never broke away from your hooded lids. “Don’t ever need to pretend with me, baby. I can make you feel good.”

You barely notice it at first, but Yeonjun pulled his phone out. It’s quiet as he takes his thumb off of you to open the camera app. You stare silently as he props up his phone using the cake box he brought, sitting all neglected on the coffee table.

You say nothing, pursing your lips as you watch him put his face mask, soaked in your fluids,  back on. He adjusts the camera. You look away in panic when he hits the red button to record a video.

“Don’t get my face,” you say hurriedly. You wonder why that’s the first thing you say. Not “stop”, not a refusal. Some part of you wanted this, craved it so badly your legs widened for him again. He chuckles, glad that you don’t seem displeased with him.

"Don't worry, baby," Yeonjun says as he strokes your hair affectionately. “I'll pixelize it."

He unzips his hoodie, the same one he wore the day you first met him, revealing his toned body underneath. He did not take it off, letting it hang from his body like an accessory. You couldn't take your eyes off Yeonjun and the way his chest gleamed with sweat. 

"Fuck," he says breathlessly as he looks down at you, masked and still so hot. "I need to be inside you."

He pulls his pants down, and you bite your lip as a reflex. His cock was so pretty, standing tall as it slapped against his stomach. So big and so girthy, tip so vexingly red like in his videos. You've never taken anything his size ever. 

"You want a taste?" he asks teasingly, slowly stroking himself up and down at the sight of you. You nod, but you don't know why. You hated giving blowjobs. The smell, the taste. You were even open about it on your account.

But here you are, climbing over Yeonjun as he lies down on the couch your husband always sleeps on when a football match is on. Your doe eyes were level with his pulsating length, mouth salivating in anticipation. Inhaling him, it was nothing like Sehoon's mustiness. He smelled clean, like fresh laundry.

"Need my help?" he teases. "Want to make me feel good?"

You nod. "Yes, please."

The voice you hear coming out of you doesn't feel like your own. Your eyes shift to the phone, shuttering at the lewd sight of you in between his naked thighs. What did Yeonjun turn you into?

His hand holds your head, wrapping your hair in a makeshift ponytail. He pushes your face down gently, closer to his cock. You take the hint and hold him in your hand, tightening your grip. You drag your tongue on the underside of his heaviness, and he lets out a hiss that makes you clench around nothing.

"Take it into your mouth," he commanded softly, propping you onto his shoulders to watch you more intently. "Use your tongue. No teeth. And stroke what you can't take, baby."

You listen to him without hesitation. Mouth enveloping his tip, you swirl your tongue around it. The further your head bobs down, the more confidence you gain as you hear Yeonjun curse under his breath. His hand gently guides you down deeper as you swallow around his throbbing length. You pump him up and down from his base, using your dripping saliva as lube. Yeonjun’s whines permeate the room, just like in his videos. Pride swells up in your chest to know that it was you who made him feel this good. He’s never had a video with anyone else. You were the first.

You want to make him feel even better, make him feel like how you did just minutes before. You take your hand off him and lower your mouth further down his length. You work your way up and down his cock to ease the stretch of him as he thrusts up into your mouth listlessly.

"So good," he says through muffled moans. "Fuck-"

Before you can bottom out, Yeonjun pulls you up haphazardly. Your mouth came off him with a small ‘pop’ that had you smiling slyly. His eyes are glazed over, dragging you up by your shoulders.

"Need to taste you again," he says through bated breaths, pushing you down where he was lying mere seconds ago. “Need this pussy all over my tongue.”

"Did I do good?" you ask, lips shimmering with his fluids, as he positions his face above your folds once more. He smiles up at you.

"Don’t ask dumb questions, baby," he says, lowering his mask down to plant a kiss right above your clit. “Was gonna cum all over that pretty face of yours from how good it fucking felt.”

Your thighs hide his face from view, hiding the brutal pace of his tongue on your wet cunt from the camera’s view. Yeonjun did not hold back, so different from earlier. His mouth was relentless on your clit, planting French kisses on it like his tongue was searching for something underneath. He grabs the plushness of your thighs, forcing you to wrap them around his face. Scared of suffocating him, you try to pull away, but Yeonjun keeps your legs locked in place with an unyielding grip. 

Your eyes are blurry with tears from the sensitivity, eyes meeting the phone as you watch yourself get devoured so messily. You grasp at his red hair, pulling him away, but to no avail. You need him so bad it’s starting to hurt.

"Wanna cum with you inside me, please," you beg, already feeling that familiar coil in your stomach. "No more..."

He lifts his head up with a languid lick up your slit. Yeonjun licks his lips, his mouth and chin drenched in your fluids. He laughs as he looks up into your face, so eager and needy for him. Fuck, where were you all his life?

"You think you're ready, baby?" he asks, freeing himself from the cage of your supple legs that he willingly trapped himself in. He pulls his mask back on before crawling back up to you. His cock ghosts over the area below your belly button, guiding it down lower with his right hand.

“Think you can take all of me?”

He aligns his length atop your entrance, stroking it along your wet outer folds. He taps his angry, hot tip against your clit, and it’s enough to make you whine. Your tears threaten to spill over.

"Please," you cry out. "I want it so bad."

"Want what?" he teases. 

"I can’t," you whine as you try to avoid his intense gaze. He laughs darkly.

“I need to hear you say it,” Yeonjun smirks. “How else am I supposed to know what you’re asking for?”

Your face contorts into a silent scream when you feel his rawness slowly sink into you. He holds it there, thrusting only the tip into you.

“I need you inside me,” you whine. “Please, I need you to fill me up with your cock and fuck me.”

Yeonjun smirks.

“That’s all you had to say.”

He digs out a condom from his hoodie's pocket. He rips the packet open with his mouth and hands it to you, chuckling at your confusion.

"Put it on me," he coaxes. 

Your husband never ever used a condom, always assuming that you'd be okay with having unprotected sex and bearing his child. For the first time in your life, you wished a condom wasn't in the picture. You wanted to throw it to the other side of the room and beg him to fuck you raw and full. That you would be happy to carry his child and leave your husband for good. 

But you push those twisted fantasies to the deep recesses of your mind and take the stretchy material in your hand anyway. He watches as you hesitantly run the condom down his pulsing length. You're slow and deliberate, like you’re waiting for him to change his mind and fuck you without it. All he does is smile, stroking your hair out of your face.

“Good girl.”

Yeonjun positions himself behind you in a sitting position, your legs draped over his thighs to give the camera a good view of your puffy folds. He lifts you up high as he grips the back of your knees from behind, rubbing his tip up and down your slit to pick more of your juices up. 

“Look at you,” he whispers into your ear. “So fucking needy. Dripped all over my face, but all you wanted was this cock, huh?” You nod, mindlessly, whimpering in pathetic agreement.

Slowly, he impales you onto him.

You roll your head back onto his shoulder, biting down on his neck to distract yourself from the pain. Despite all the foreplay, you were still not used to his size. He was just too thick, still too large for you to take in. When you see his tip disappear into your folds, your tears start to fall down your face. It hurt, but you couldn’t have him pull away. You needed him right where he was. Inch by inch, you suction him in until-

"Shit," Yeonjun moans as the base of his cock hits your entrance. Fully engulfed in your folds, he steadies his breathing. You were so warm, so fucking irresistible in the way you clench around him in waves. He waits a few seconds until he starts to lift you up again. His hands are holding you from underneath your thighs, and with his support, you drop yourself back down on him. You cry out from the pressure you feel in your stomach. You can feel him against it, the small bulge visible underneath your belly button. He's hitting the deepest parts of you.

"Your pussy was made for me. So fucking tight.”

Yeonjun’s grip on you is tensing so suddenly. He bends you forward, so that your hands are on his knees as he pistons up into you. You can’t help but stare at the screen, moaning as you watch him push into you from behind.

"Oh my god," you cry out as he pulls your hips down against him. His length grinds against a spongy spot inside of you, and when he realizes he’s hit it from the way your mouth morphs into a silent O-shape, he smirks. What started as slow, cautious thrusts suddenly turned into a brutal and unforgiving pace of his monstrous cock within the deepest parts of your pussy. Yeonjun hit your G-spot again and again and again, his thrusts deep and unwavering.

"Look at how you’re letting me fuck you dumb," he groans out, grabbing your tits from behind as they bounce mercilessly in front of the camera. "So fucking wet for me."

You fall so forward that you're grabbing onto the coffee table now as Yeonjun stands up, while unrelenting in his thrusts into you. He kicks back the couch slightly, propping a leg up on it to have a better angle to fuck you. He pushes you down, having your back arched perfectly for the camera, as his thrusts quicken. 

“Ngh— Ah— I can’t—”

You try to quiet your moans, afraid of who might hear. Afraid of who might come into the living room to see you getting railed so hard and so desperately by someone who isn't… Wait, who was he again? 

"Taking me so well," Yeonjun grunts, pulling you away from your thoughts. "Like a fucking bitch in heat."

He slaps you hard on the ass, grabbing it right after, like you’d disappear if he didn’t. You squeal at the impact, shockwaves of pleasure rippling through you.

“P-please, Yeo-” He stuffs his fingers in your mouth, preventing you from saying his name. You forget what this was, you forget that he was recording.

“Shut the fuck up and take it like a good girl,” he snarls.

“Wha-”

Pushing you off him, Yeonjun throws you onto the couch. You let yourself be manhandled by him, reaching out for his shoulders desperately, wanting so desperately for his dick to find its way back inside you. 

“You like when I’m mean, huh?” Yeonjun laughs as your mouth holds open at the absence of his fingers. “Like when I break you, hm?”

Inserting himself back in your wetness, Yeonjun holds you against the couch in a mating press. His eyes gaze intensely into yours.

"Let me hear you, baby," Yeonjun coaxes, his thrusts slow and shallow just to hear you whine. "Let them know who this pussy belongs to.”

You whimper, grinding up against him. You're desperate for him to be rough again, to put you in your place. To have your mind only clouded with thoughts of him and his cock only. God, he made a mess of you.

“Or am I not doing enough to hear you scream?” he pouts underneath his mask, clearly enjoying your desperation. “Maybe I should go harder…so I can hear you better."

He laughs, and you don't even have a chance to reply as Yeonjun pushes into you with a force so guttural that you feel his tip hit the entrance of your cervix. 

Like he predicted, you screamed at the painful ecstasy of being filled to the absolute brim. 

“Fuck–”

He continues his pace hard and fast, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Your nails are clawing at his back, his head buried deep in your neck. His own moans rival yours.

“Yes, baby. Fuck, I’ve been waiting for this pussy for so long–”

 You don't realize the cry you let out when he hits that inner spot again. He thrusts, grinding against it again and again and again until you start seeing stars. 

“Oh my god, oh my god,” you breathe out. “I’m–”

“Louder, baby,” Yeonjun coaxes. “Need to hear you.”

Your mind breaks as the world comes undone around you. Your moans have devolved into ear-piercing whines, tears running down your face in pure ecstasy. 

Your climax hits you in droves as he continues to fuck you through it. He did not stop.

"I'm sensitive," you cry out in between your unintelligible babbling. "Please..."

Yeonjun shushes you, bringing your head close to his chest. You're practically sobbing now, pleasure overriding every other emotion in your body. Even the one nagging you about what Sehoon would think of you right now. About what your parents would think of their precious daughter.

"It's okay," he whispers soothingly as he continues to slowly thrust into you. "You can do it again, right? Just give me one more, baby."

Your face is contorted into a million different expressions as he adjusts to pick up his pace. It never stopped feeling good, but it was too much for your body to handle. Were you ever supposed to feel this much pleasure in your lifetime?

"I'm so close," he whines, his masked face buried deep in your neck. The noises your bodies produce are sinful. Squelches and slapping of bare skin echo throughout the living room. Your tits bouncing against his chest, your nipples rubbing against his. You can feel his breath quicken, and you tighten the grip of your folds to push him towards it. You want to see it, want to see how he comes undone from someone other than himself. 

Yeonjun’s thrusts become erratic, and his hold on your ass intensifies. You wanted to see it bruise the next day. He brings his left hand to your clit, and you yelp at the sudden intensity. His thumb circles you softly, so different from the brutal pace of his cock. The different sensations have you moaning into his neck. 

“I can’t. It’s too much, it’s too much, it’s–”

“Shh,” Yeonjun pushes out through his own whines. “Need you to cum with me, need to feel it.”

You never knew you could want someone so bad, to be so lustful over another. The way his brows contort, so focused on bringing both of you to your peaks. You wish you could kiss him, but his mask brings out a different desire inside of you. 

You might be the only viewer of his to have seen him without it. A wave of pride consumes you; the thought of other people watching him fills you with rage mixed with lust. 

You feel the dam of your floodgates come undone once again as you clench around at the thought. Wouldn’t it be so nice to have him all to yourself? No husband to worry about, no viewers to get jealous over. Just him and you, fucking every damn moment of your lives.

Your tears of hot pleasure surge once again, and he groans at the sight of you so fucked out by him. 

“So fucking perfect,” he groans.

Your tightness propels him to grind into you harshly, the couch scratching the floor with his movements. One final thrust has him cumming hard into the condom, fully bottomed out inside you.

“Fuck-” Yeonjun moans as he buries his hair in the crook of your neck. 

You milk him of his climax, your body grinding into his to soothe his comedown. What you would do to rip the stupid condom off him and let his cum trickle out of you and down your thigh. You think you’d be willing to actually be a mother if it meant that Yeonjun could fuck you raw.

He sighs as he rides out both your highs with small, steady thrusts. Shaking from oversensitivity, you stop his movement to pull him in closer. 

Yeonjun collapses on top of you, not noticing the phone lying flat on its back from the impact of his roughness. You sigh out contentedly, petting his fiery hair. 

'So this is what real sex feels like,' you think to yourself. 

You felt like you were drifting on a cloud, with a man so beautiful lying on your chest. He scans your face, and a sudden wave of anxiety washes over you. Before you could push him off, Yeonjun removes his mask to plant a soft kiss on your flushed lips.

“He’s lucky to have you,” Yeonjun says with a sad smile, stroking your cheek. “Don’t ever let him think it’s the other way around.”

"Sorry for staying so late," Yeonjun apologizes, his plate fully cleaned out. "Your cooking is amazing."

You smile. He wasn’t wearing his mask anymore, as it sits in your laundry hamper desperately waiting for a wash. You couldn’t get over how glaringly beautiful he is. What did he do in a past life to be blessed with such features?

“It’s not all me,” you say, standing up from the dining table. “I had a great assistant.”

Yeonjun smirks.

“Cutting vegetables is the easy part,” he chimed in. “The fact you can season stuff perfectly without measurements is insane, [Y/N]. If he doesn’t come home to eat your dinners, I will gladly take them off his hands.”

You stand up, take the dishes, and put them in the sink. The guilt crept into the back of your mind. What were you doing letting this man fuck you in your home and help you cook dinner with you after?

This was not right. This is not the person you wanted to become. You can’t let this happen again.

‘I am married,’ you tell yourself over and over again. What would people think if they knew?

"Look, [Y/N]," Yeonjun stands up, making his way behind you. He dangles his phone in front of your face. The thumbnail of a pixelized girl and a masked man fucking on a pristinely white couch, one eerily similar to the one in your living room.

He uploaded the video. Without telling you.

"Yeonjun-" you gasp, your eyes widened with shock.

"Before you say anything," he starts. "I promise your face isn’t visible. But people may or may not have already picked up that it’s you– or at least the online version of you.”

56,000 likes and 5.4k retweets. You start to feel dizzy. Too many people have seen your body react in ways you hadn't even known it could until today. Although your face was pixelated, everything else was you. The way your toes curled when he fucked you with his tongue. The way your mouth wrapped around his big, veiny cock so willingly. The way you bounced on his dick, legs wide open just for him. 

You felt your body turn cold at the thought of your husband finding out, of seeing you so intimate with another man. Would he tell your parents? Would you have to waste the years you spent with him by having to pay him back?

"You're at 20k followers now," Yeonjun continues, not noticing the inner turmoil you were going through. "I uploaded the full video on OnlyFans and we really raked it in. I'll send you the money we earned next week. So far we've made this much already."

Your eyes widen. Your whole body freezes when he turns the screen over to you. The amount of 0s had you doing a double-take.

"Like just from one hour?"

Yeonjun nods.

“More than usual for me, too.”

You weren't allowed to have a job. Sehoon said it would make him look bad to have a wife who works. You could never put your hard-earned degree to use, could never get some extra money to spend on yourself. He gave you nothing to work with. The money that Yeonjun showed you will be the first time you've had any type of income on your own since you got married.

"You like that, huh?" Yeonjun says teasingly, wrapping a hand around your waist from behind. He nuzzles his neck into your shoulder. "I'm sure you'll be living a good life in no time with what we're earning."

“What do you mean?” you ask cautiously. You can feel his face nearing yours.

“You know what I mean,” he starts slowly.

He brings his other hand to wrap around your neck, applying a soft pressure. 

"I can satisfy your cravings," Yeonjun whispers darkly. "Make you forget all about that piece of shit.”

His hands trap you against the counter.

“Should we make more videos together, baby?" He draws out his pet name for you, and it almost makes you want to pounce on him.

Without your consent, he uploaded a video of you two having sex for the whole internet to see. 

You should say no. Every part of you is telling you to say no, but you don't want to.

You don’t think you could live without his cock inside of you at least one more time. His attentiveness, his care for you… You wanted it all. Was it so wrong to be selfish? 

"It's not cheating," Yeonjun assures you, filling in your silence. "We'd just be business partners after all."

He licks the back of your ear, coaxing you to look at him. His eyes are wide with expectation, so out of character for his usually hooded gaze.

“I won’t push your boundaries again,” Yeonjun insists. “I’ll be good. I promise.”

How could you say no to him with his fluffy hair and seductive eyes? He had you the moment he stepped through those doors. Hesitantly, you nod. 

"Okay," you say shyly under his gaze. "Let's do it."

Yeonjun smiles through the mask. In swift movements, he reaches around you and underneath you to stuff his hand in your pants.

"You look good in this apron," Yeonjun whispers, pushing his sweats down with urgency. "Let's film another one right now."

"she's being so noisy tonight," he says into the phone, "but she can't help it when i fuck her like this."

he punctuates his sentence with a pinch your clit, making you cry out.

taesan huffs, "don't be selfish, hyung. let us hear."

sungho lowers the phone to where you're connected to him, and suddenly leehan and taesan can everything - your shaky breaths, your whimpered pleas, the slick sound of sungho's cock disappearing into your soaked pussy, the headboard creaking...

you try to cover your mouth with both hands but sungho catches you before you can, pinning them over your head.

leehan's voice is louder over the call now, "is she close?"

sungho laughs, "fuck. yeah. she just clenched around my cock. bet you love this, don't you? letting other people know you're being fucked like some desperate slut."

you shake your head desperately.

"poor baby," leehan coos over the wet squelches, "do you want to cum, pretty?"

"mm - yes!" you pant.

"what do you think, hyung?" leehan laughs and sungho hums.

"i don't know, do you think you deserve it?" he leans down to bite on your neck as you moan out something that resembles a yes!

"fuck," taesan whispers breathlessly, "let her cum, hyung. i want to hear."

sungho's thrusts somehow speed up even more, hammering into that spot over and over while his thumb finds your clit.

"you heard them. cum for us, baby."

"wait, i -" you say deliriously, but your high comes faster than your words - cut off by your own broken moan that tears out of you, loud enough that the phone definitely picks it up. sungho continues to fuck you through it, his dick punishing your abused hole while he groans at how tightly your walls pulse around him.

"fuck, she's milking me," he groans as you finally slump back, panting.

sungho slows down, bringing the phone back up to his mouth, voice smug, "the door's passcode is her birthday, you know it. i think she can probably take all three of us tonight."

He lifted his face up and stared at your sleeping face, wondering what you were dreaming about as he continued to thrust.

A choked moan left his mouth when he felt your walls clamp around him, he almost collapsed on top of you at the tightness you were gripping him with but he balanced himself, he shut his eyes tightly, feeling a tingling sense of pleasure grow in him.

He didn't know how long he could get away doing this, it felt wrong… but not really, since if you didn't want it, you wouldn't be nice to him at all in the first place.

You've noticed your panties and personal things disappear yet you didn't suspect him, that shows that you trust him right? It also means you love him too because you can only trust the person you love.

At least that's what he told himself.

He had been doing this for two weeks straight by now since he was too much of a coward to actually make a move when you're awake. It's not that he can't but he's afraid of… rejection? wait no, you wouldn't reject him, no, you love him too. He was just scared that it might be ruined if you didn't comply with him.

He opens his eyes, only to find your wide ones staring back at him, horrified.

You freeze, mouth unable to form words as you feel him inside you. He hasn't stopped moving, he bit his lip, giving you a gentle smile as if he wasn't doing something horrible to you.

“You're awake. Shh, it's okay darling.” He gently whispered, clasping his hand over your mouth to prevent you from screaming, just in case.

Your palms immediately shoot up, trying to push him off, the panic settling in your core as the gravity of the situation weighed you down, but your efforts faltered when his tip kissed your cervix causing you to buck your hips up into his.

Fuck.

You wondered if this was a dream, Sungho isn't the type of person to do this right? But the sensation is too real, the feeling of his tip prodding at your cervix with every thrust, the way you could feel him inside you vividly, your walls clamping tightly around his cock, feeling each and every crevice.

It wasn't a dream or should you call it a nightmare?

“I- I'm sorry, I love you so much.” He whimpers, eyes staring into yours as you register his confession. “You love me too right? right? right? Please tell me you do, no, no, you don't have to tell me anything, I know you love me.” He rambles off, thrusting into you at a fast pace, causing the bed to creak and rattle even more.

Not giving you any time to respond, he grabbed the underside of your thighs, folding your body in half into a mating press as he pistoned his hips into you, impaling your cunt with his cock.

The position was so uncomfortable, you couldn't breathe properly, your mind was all foggy as you could only whimper and let out gasps in response, any sentence you tried to structure came out in incoherent babbles due to the sheer force he's fucking you with.

“S-s-sungho— why—” The only thing you could audibly say, back arching when you felt him hit your sweet spot.

“Love, I love you. I always wanted to do this but I couldn't muster up the courage to ask you out…” He whispers, feeling a little ashamed at his underconfidence.

“I have been resorting to this for the past two weeks…” He confessed which made you sick to your stomach.

This has been going on for two weeks?

“I wanted you to go out with me, I was scared… but I love you, and I want you, so I resorted to all other things.” He leaned over before kissing you, sliding his tongue into your mouth.

You probably would've agreed to go out with him if he had just asked normally.

Now you can't.

You felt nauseous.

But the feeling faded just as it came, your mind and body betraying you too as it focused on deriving pleasure from the act more than thinking rationally.

You should be disgusted, you are disgusted, but you couldn't help but let out lewd muffled noises at the pleasure he was bestowing upon you, ramming into your cunt as he babbles about how much he loves you. His tip kept hitting your sweet spot which made you squeal underneath his hold, you held onto him tighter, legs reflexively wrapping around his hips as you pulled him into you.

You were shocked at the way your own body, reflexes and everything was betraying you, almost as if they're under his spell. You tried to control it, to resist but all those efforts were in vain when your orgasm hit you.

You shatter completely, body jerking against his own as you let out a loud moan, pressing up against him. He leans down and kisses you.

The high slowly fades and the realisation slowly dawns on you, but you could only stare at him as he continued to move in and out of you before finally reaching his own high and cumming inside of you.

Your eyes began to close up from exhaustion, your body pulling you back into your slumber again. Sungho cleans himself, as well as you too before pressing a kiss to your forehead and going off to sleep on his bed.

He was giddy, happy that he got to experience you cum too, for the past two weeks he'd just been the lone one finishing inside, filling you up, but he felt happy that he experienced feeling your walls clamp around him for a change.

He couldn't wait for the next morning.

sugar daddy!sungho who... thinks you’re the prettiest when you smile, thanking him for anything it is that he randomly gifts you. you’re usually too busy with classes to meet him more than 1-2 times a week, so he has what he orders get delivered directly to you. and truthfully, he mostly does it to see you color his screen as your face brightens up his day instantly, no matter what is going on at work.

sugar daddy!sungho who... brings you to his place and watches as you do your work, paying a lot of attention as he asks if he can help you with anything. “it’s alright, i’m almost done,” you’d announce, so he just waits to praise you for finishing up what was due in more ways than one.

sugar daddy!sungho who... gets so needy that he asks for you in the middle of the night, promising he’d compensate with anything you ask for as long as you get to him as soon as possible. sometimes he’d even be parked right outside where you live to pick you up so you don’t have to worry about taxi fares and such (not that you have to, he pays for them anyways).

sugar daddy!sungho who... calls you his ‘pretty little thing’ when you go on catch up dates to introduce you to anyone who asks what you are to him. it makes you blush hearing him call you that, hiding slightly behind him as he chuckles at your cute reaction.

sugar daddy!sungho who... gets absolutely flustered when you call him ‘daddy’, blushing like crazy as he pauses his movements. he’s not sure what to do, so he just asks you to keep saying it until he gets used to the name. either that, or you both just laugh over it the first time it happens, silently opting not to use that term, instead sticking to his name.

sugar daddy!sungho who... holds your waist as he thrusts into you, watching how his cock disappears into your tight hole. he moves slowly as he sees the sight below him, his eyes scanning your body from where it connects up to where you look back at him through teary eyes amidst the drawn out moans he pulls out of you.

sugar daddy!sungho who... isn't opposed the idea of doing anything if it’s with you. you’re both exploring your fantasies through each other, so naturally, it leads to trying out rather kinky things on top of the usual vanilla sex when you both have the time.

sugar daddy!sungho who... buys his first vibrator so he can use it on both you and him simultaneously. it’s a small yet powerful bullet that he teases your clit with before pushing it inside of you, entering himself soon after which makes the vibrations touch him too. he shudders the first time, hair messy and arms weak as he tries his best to hold himself up. but eventually, he just falls, hugging you tightly as you both move to support each other until your climaxes.

sugar daddy!sungho who... always makes sure you’re taken care of after you both have sex, either by running you guys baths to have together if there’s time, ordering food (or making it if he’s feeling rather domestic), letting you go on a shopping spree as he keeps his arms around you while you use his phone to find stuff to buy, or just cuddling together.

sugar daddy!sungho who... lets you stay at his place whenever you have an off day. you say that you need a change of scenery, but both you and him know that it’s more so because you miss him when you’re at uni.

sugar daddy!sungho who... misses you always. he makes sure to let you know that through a range of actions, from simple texts to wealthy showcases of bouquets at your door to come home to.

sugar daddy!sungho who... despite his work, always tries to make time for you. his schedule is pretty lax in the first place, which is why he’s able to spend time with you whenever you want. but on days where he has urgent meetings to attend, he doesn’t forget to set some time apart at the end of them just for you. he picks you up and takes you out, declaring how much he missed you as he pulls up outside your place.

sugar daddy!sungho who... has tough fingers from typing at work all day, something you can feel as he curls them into you at the perfect spot. it’s like muscle memory by the third time, knowing exactly which place to push against to get you to squirm against his grip as he smirks softly at being able to give you the pleasure you needed.

sugar daddy!sungho who... has a thing with being slow while undressing you. he’s never in a rush, really taking his time as he takes every piece of clothing off your body between kisses and touches. sometimes, he’d even just touch you until you cum while you wore your clothes… only when he gets impatient though.

sugar daddy!sungho who... speaks less, and does more. even with the small gestures, he makes sure that every single one of your needs have been taken care of. subconsciously, he treats you as more than a sugar baby, but he isn’t sure of it until months later, when you tell him you don’t need his help anymore.

sugar daddy!sungho who... immediately realizes that you aren’t something he wants to take out of his life, so he proposes a new relationship: girlfriend & boyfriend.

thank you for reading! please like + reblog to show support, and feel free to leave feedback and comments through rb tags, anon messages, or dms!

A/N: honestly speaking, i only started this because of the very first point... i'm not one to be into 'daddy' kinks and stuff, but i guess it goes with the name of the game? LOL anyways lmk what you guys think <3

TAGLIST: @ericlvr @hehebeanis @fayepz @j-jellyous @taesanpop @heartsbyminnie @chwrrydolly @ruuroom @merakicafee @s0shroe

DIVIDERS BY: mdni by @mikeykuns, ending ribbon by @cursed-carmine, pictures from pinterest!

want more? check out the masterlist! want to be notified? join taglist here!

[AN] :: my first lngshot post let's gooooo !!!! my bias is actually ohyul but like i cannot stop thinking abt woojin ugh #releaseme 🫩🫩 anyways hope yall likeee and please send me lngshot thoughts n reqs xxxx

The thought had dug itself into your mind and refused to let go ever since that night when Soul had wrapped his arm around your neck and snapped into your ear to ‘be quiet’ before he went on to completely ruin you in the bathroom of some restaurant you can’t even remember the name of anymore. 

All you remember from that night is that rush that those words had sent through you coupled with that strength of his that had you completely under his mercy. Ever since, you haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. That dark edge to his voice that left as quick as it came, that threat at his fingertips as he’d manhandled your back against the wall before he’d lifted you up and taken you. 

Because Soul was nothing if not sweet to you. Jongseob was even sweeter. 

And you loved it. Really, you couldn’t ask for better partners— ones who know so well how to take care of you in every way so early into your relationship. 

But you can’t help but crave for that heat again, the kind that makes your gut coil in fear and your nerves thrum with suspense.

You wonder if maybe you can bring it out of them. So what’s the logical way to go about this— communicate with them? No, that would be boring. 

The right way would be to be totally immature. Complain that your milk’s too cold (Soul just offers to heat it up), complain that they’re spending too much time gaming instead of spending time with you (Jongseob buys you whatever game they’re playing so you can join them), start huffing at odd hours of the day that you’re horny and they’re not doing anything about it (they drop everything to tend to you), start huffing at odd hours of the day that they’re not showering you with affection (same result).

It doesn’t matter what you demand, they’ll find a way to fix it for you. So you figure you need to up your game. 

The opportunity presents itself to you in the form of Intak at your dinner party one weekend.

You know it's a risky little game, sauntering up to Intak and sidling into his space a little too close, but the consequences may just be worth it.

You make sure you’re in perfect view of where Jongseob is chatting with Jiung and a few colleagues from the company as you pull up behind Intak where he’s hovering by the snack table. “Can I interest you in a drink?” You ask into his ear.

He startles as he whips around, round eyes wide, pretzel hanging off between his lips. “Hmph?”

You chuckle fondly, taking the pretzel from him and popping it into your mouth. “Red or white?”

Intak’s eyes fall to your lips, a light blush dusting along his cheekbones as he swallows around nothing. “O-Oh! Uh… White?”

It’s not just Intak’s gaze that you feel drilling into the back of your head as you pull him into the open kitchen by his wrist; there’s two other pairs piercing into you from the living room. 

As you pour him a glass, you see Intak looking over his shoulder every few seconds. “How are things going with Jongseob and Shota?” He asks, looking just a little on edge.

“Great!” You chirp, taking a step closer to him to hand him his glass. “Why do you ask?”

Intak presses back into the counter as you hover into his space, looking over your shoulder. “Just curious,” he says quickly then shoots you a forced smile. “They talk about you all the time you know. Sounds like you guys are, uh…” He falters when you tilt your head and let your eyes fall to his lips. “Doing… good?”

Your lips pull into a smile as you lift your eyes back up at his, watching him through your lashes. “We are,” you hum, lifting your hand to tap your fingernail against the rim of his wine glass. “I just wonder sometimes, you know?”

You smile wider when you see Intak visibly swallow, leaning in a little like he’s pulled to you by your voice alone. “About—”

You’d felt his presence before you heard his rough, deceptively gentle voice.

“About what?”

A hand, warm and large, presses against the small of your back before you feel the heat of Soul’s body leaning in behind you.

Intak jolts back, the wine sloshing dangerously close to spilling as he stumbles out of this little bubble of danger you’d orchestrated. He slides out, laughing nervously as he reaches over and slaps Soul’s arm playfully. “I was just gonna ask the same thing,” he says frantically, walking backwards and nearly barreling into the fridge. “Good thing you got here! Ask her yourself!”

Then he’s gone and Jongseob steps inside the kitchen in his place, hands in his pockets and looking at you with an illusive calm. You’re left feeling strangely like you just trapped yourself in a wolf's den.

“Wine?” You offer Jongseob with an innocent smile.

Soul’s hand slides down to your hip and your heart jumps in excitement at the possessive grip he holds you with. “What was that?”

You shiver at his breath brushing against the shell of your ear. Play dumb. 

“What was what?”

Jongseob is in front of you in the blink of an eye, looking down at you with a hard stare that has you backing up but that only pushes you further into Soul’s hold. Your breath catches in your throat when Jongseob leans in, stopping just before his nose bumps against your forehead.

“Count yourself lucky that there’s people around right now.”

Then they’re both gone, and you’re left cold and thrumming with anticipation. That anticipation lingers under your skin throughout the dinner as you try to play sweet and stay by their sides. They’re as pleasant as ever with you, but there’s a calculated heat to their gazes and their lingering touches.

It keeps you on your toes as you work with them in a practiced ease to clean up once everyone has left, but you start to think you’re the only one that notices the static in the air. They’re nothing but normal as they work around you and chat, like nothing’s amiss, but you think maybe that’s part of their game.

Until you come out to the living room to see them shouldering on their jackets and toeing into their shoes.

“You’re leaving?” You ask, not doing anything to hide the disappointment in your voice.

Jongseob looks over at you and smiles warmly, gesturing you over. “We have work early tomorrow,” he says, pulling you in by the waist as you close in.

“I thought you were staying over,” you all but whine and Jongseob kisses away the pout on your lips.

“Another time, okay?”

Your pout persists even when Soul turns you around and pulls you into his chest. “Thank you for hosting,” he says sweetly then presses a kiss to your cheek. “We’ll bring takeout tomorrow. Whatever you want.”

Your interest perks. “And boba?”

“And boba,” he giggles.

Every other concern blurs away when he kisses you.

And honestly, you forget altogether about your little schemes for the next few days. Things are peaceful as ever with them; you spend the mornings on call with them as they get ready for work then spend the evenings over games and takeout and bad movies.

At least until Valentine’s Day rolls around. The date they planned for you is more than just nice even if it's simple. They’d rented out a private room at a fancy restaurant with a window overlooking the city and you’d gotten your fill of everything you wanted from the menu (and more, thanks to Soul). Then you’d gone down by the Han river to walk it all off with ice cream.

But as soon as you get into the car to drive to their place for the night, the air shifts into something you can’t pin down.

The ride starts quiet and drowsy from all the food and excitement. You sit in the backseat with Jongseob, your weight resting against his side. Jongseob’s hand is light on your thigh as his thumb rubs mindless circles against the exposed skin while your eyes track the movements of Soul’s hands on the wheel.

Like it always does whenever you’re reminded of the strength under those veiny hands, your mind drifts off to the dirty corners of your imagination. That night in the restaurant flashes through your eyes again— the way Soul had roughly handled you— and you’re reminded of the pure strength under his harmless exterior.

Your thighs press closed at the slow thrum of want that builds between your hips and Jongseob’s fingers dig into your flesh at the movement.

“What’s wrong, pretty?” His voice comes deep and raspy above your ear.

You shift in your seat when Soul’s eyes meet yours through the rearview mirror. “Are we close?”

Soul laughs, a sound that does nothing to ease the heat slowly growing under your skin. “Ten minutes.”

That sounds like too long. If it wouldn’t get you killed, you’d jump his bones right then. “Then drive faster,” you huff, snappier than you’d intended but you’re a little too needy to care.

You gasp when the fingers in your thigh dig in sharper. When you look up at Jongseob, he’s already looking back at you with a heavy gaze. 

“There it is again,” he mumbles under his breath and you lift your head off his shoulder. 

“What?”

“That attitude.”

You feel a pit form in your stomach, of dread and of that excitement at the prospect of something dangerous.

“I don’t know what you mean…”

“I think you do,” he tells you, the corner of his lips lifting. “You’ve been acting up for a while now. Don’t think we haven’t forgotten about that little stunt you pulled with Intak.”

You swallow, feeling your body go rigid under the weight of his heavy gaze. The tone of his voice… it’s not something you’ve heard from him before. And all it’s doing is making that pressure between your hips grow more persistent.

You try to look away from him but his hand is on your chin, yanking your eyes back on him. He grins at you, slow and sly, when he sees the way your pupils are already blown wide, the way your cheeks are already flushed red, and the way you’re already squirming in your seat. 

“Is this why?” He asks you quietly, his breath brushing over your lips. 

His thumb brushes down to the side of your neck, pressing in and you whimper at the pressure. If nothing else, your pulse surely gives you away.

A scoff leaves his lips in something like a laugh. “You were right Shota.”

“I told you,” Soul pipes in from the front. “You should’ve seen her that night. She got all empty headed and cute.”

Those words are the nail in the coffin for your restraint. Your hand wraps around Jongseob’s wrist as you grind your hips down into the seat, searching for some sort of relief. “Seobie, please.”

He clicks his tongue and lifts your leg over his lap to keep you from chasing any form of pressure. “Not yet. Wait until we’re home.”

But you can’t. You need something, and you need it now. 

Your hands dig into his shirt as you pull him in, pressing your lips to his with a desperation that feels like it’s taking control of your every limb. 

“Want you,” you whine into his lips. When he makes no move to reciprocate, you pull back with a huff. “Seobie, please, I just need—“

His hand moves back up to your jaw, his fingers digging into your cheeks to cut your words off. “I said,” he snaps, and you still under the venom in his voice. “Not. Yet. Or are you too dumb already from being so horny that you can’t understand that?”

Your eyes snap wide open at his demeaning words, how so unlike him they are. And yet, you only want to make it worse.

“Haven’t you kept me waiting enough?” You mumble under his grip. 

The smile that curls on his lips is downright terrifying. “I see how it is. You just made what we’re about to do to you a lot easier.”

Your mind churns through what that could possibly mean. “What—“

“We’re here,” Soul cuts in and only then do you realize that the car has stopped moving.

Jongseob lets go of you and unbuckles you as Soul gets out to open your door for you. You’re practically manhandled into their complex and all that does is make the anticipation in you burrow deeper. 

The elevator ride up is torturous. There’s another man in there so as much as you want to climb onto Soul, you can’t. He keeps a tight grip on your arm to keep you still, knowing your habits. 

But as soon as you step into their apartment and the door shuts closed, you turn to Soul and throw your arms around his neck, pulling him down into a searing kiss.

Soul makes a surprised noise, his hands going to your hips but he doesn’t pull back. He gives into your kiss for a short moment before there’s a hand wrapping around the back of your neck and pulling you back. 

“You really don’t know how to listen, do you?” Jongseob seethes into your ear. 

“Who says I have to?” You breathe, very aware of the very real threat simmering behind his words, but very wanting of whatever consequences might come from disobeying.

Soul presses into your other ear, teeth tugging at your lobe with a quiet chuckle as his hands grip tighter on your hips. “It’s fine, Seob. Plenty of time to teach her now.”

And somehow, the threat sounds scarier coming from Soul. 

“Hm. I suggest you start listening now,” Jongseob whispers. 

You shudder at the brush of his hand as it works the zipper of your dress down and Soul pushes it down down your body, letting it pool at your ankles and leaving you in the crimson two-piece set you’d picked out specially for tonight. You preen at the way both of their breaths catch, at the feeling of their eyes raking over you and taking in the way the lace hugs you. 

“Fuck,” Jongseob whispers as his hands slide up to cup your breasts over the bra. 

Soul sounds just as ruined as his hands slip down to your ass, squeezing the supple flesh as he presses his hardening erection against your hip. “You’re so pretty,” he breathes, before closing the distance and swallowing your gasp in a deep kiss. 

He bullies his tongue past your lips almost immediately and you welcome him in with a whine, pushing your body against his. 

Jongseob’s lips trail fire down your neck and shoulder as he presses himself against your back. He keeps one hand kneading your chest harshly, the other sliding down to press against the wet heat between your hips. Your moan gets swallowed by eager lips as Jongseob’s fingers rub over your clothed clit. 

You grind your hips down to chase the friction of his hand that has you growing wetter and needier by the second. 

“So fucking wet already,” he groans into your ear before you feel the hard press of his boner against the small of your back. 

His hand comes to your chin to pull you from Soul’s kiss, his lips sealing over yours as soon as you’re free. 

Soul’s lips attach to your neck as he leaves biting kisses down your neck. “Seob,” his voice rasps with restraint but he makes no move to pull away from you. 

Jongseob forces himself from your lips, tugging your lip between his teeth as he goes. He chuckles at your whine as he pulls his hands away from you. 

“Not yet baby,” he says, pressing a kiss to your ear.

Then he steps back from you completely and before you can question where he’s leaving to, Soul is pulling you into another heated kiss. All your questions melt away as he licks into your mouth and uses his hands on your ass to grind your cunt down onto his thigh. 

You don’t know how long you stand there, rutting against his leg like a bitch in heat and pushing yourself closer to orgasm, before you’re pulled away from Soul. 

You don’t get the chance to gather your wits before you’re lifted off your feet and being carried into Jongseob’s room. 

“Seob, what the hell!” You whine, wriggling in his hold. 

“Stop squirming,” he scolds you, tightening his grip around you. 

You go still as he steps into the room, not under his command, but at the sight of the lit candles and rose petals scattered artfully around. The scent of rose and lilac hits your nose as your back hits soft sheets. 

“You did all this for me?” You ask once you’ve had your fill of looking around, grinning up at Jongseob. 

Jongseob actually looks a little flustered as he glances around before looking down at you. “Sho’s idea.”

Soul smacks the back of his head as he passes him and moves onto the bed. “It was his idea but he’s embarrassed,” he corrects, climbing over you to crowd into your other side.

You giggle at the glare Jongseob sends Soul’s way. “Oh come on, it’s cute,” you insist, pulling him down by his shirt.

“It’s cliché,” Jongseob grumbles but he gives into your pull, settling down on your side.

You smile at the grouchy look on his face, taking him by the chin and pulling him in. “Well, I love it,” you say softly before pressing your lips to his in a sweet kiss. 

He melts into the kiss and into you, his hands winding around your waist. 

You’re so caught up in the warmth of the kiss that you don’t even realize your wrists have been captured. You snap into realization when you hear, and feel, something click around your wrist. 

You pull from the kiss, blinking in confusion and looking up to see Soul securing your wrist to the bedpost with—

“Are those handcuffs?” 

Soul looks down at you and smiles at the shock on your face, fiddling with the other fur lined cuff. “Yeah.” He takes your other wrist, rubbing his thumb along your wrist and pressing into the pulse point. “With the way you’ve been acting, we thought you could learn a little about restraint.”

Your eyes widen in realization. You swallow, feeling the heat between your legs start rushing back to you at an alarming rate. 

Jongseob noses against your jaw, pressing a kiss on your chin. “Be a good girl for us and we’ll give you whatever you want.”

“And if you don’t,” Soul adds, leaning down to peck your lips softly, “You don’t get anything. Got it?”

You breathe sharply in, pressing your legs together to quell some of the heat. As much as the threat should scare you into submission, it only makes you want to learn just what their limits are. “Got it,” you agree quietly, then watch as Soul secured your other wrist with the cuff. 

You tug your wrists to test the strength. It’s sturdy, but the fur keeps it from digging too hard into your skin. There’s not much movement that they allow though.

“Safeword?” Jongseob asks you, running his palm down your stomach in a soothing gesture. 

You settle under the touch, arching into it. “Silver.”

“And?”

“Three knocks.”

He smiles at you, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “Good girl.”

You bristle when you feel something wrap around your thigh and lift your head to see Soul wrapping yet another contraption around you. 

“What the hell is that?” You ask alarmed, squirming as he secures a leather strap around your thigh. 

He grabs onto your leg to keep it still then shoots you a hard look that has you wilting immediately. “Stay still.”

The strap is attached to a long metal bar that has another leather belt on the other hand that Jongseob takes hold of to wrap around your other thigh. 

“Spreader bar,” he explains, watching you closely to gauge your reactions. “Like this, you’ll be completely at our mercy.”

You try to move your legs once the bar is secured; you can only move them up and down, giving you no space to close your legs or pull them apart. 

Soul grabs the bar and pushes it down, folding your legs practically to your chest and leaving you completely open and vulnerable. 

“All that mouthing off you’ve been doing,” Jongseob starts, letting his hand fall between your legs to rub his thumb down the line of your pussy, pressing hard into the wet spot over your entrance. “You did it to get us here, didn’t you?”

You’re squirming already under the touch, but Soul holds your legs firmly down by his grip on the bar. 

“Answer him,” Soul orders when you take too long, his other hand tugging at the garter around your thigh to let it snap against your skin. 

“Fuck,” you hiss at the sting, before you nod. “Y-Yeah… Yes, I did.”

“So,” Jongseob starts, harshly grabbing your chin to bring your eyes up to him. “I don’t wanna hear you complaining about anything. Got it?”

You huff, averting your eyes. “It’s Valentine’s Day, shouldn’t I get to call the shots?” You grumble under your breath. 

His eyes sharpen, fingers digging harder into your skin. “Do you wanna be gagged too?”

Your eyes widen, and you quickly shake your head. You don’t think you want to handle being all that restrained all at once.

“Good,” he hums, releasing his grip on you. He instead starts to undo his jeans, shifting to kneel beside your head. “We have better use for your mouth anyways, don’t we?”

Your mouth practically waters on instinct as he frees himself, already at half mast and leaking. You let your mouth fall open immediately as an invitation. 

He chuckles over you, pressing his tip against your lower lip and smearing the moisture there. You try to chase him, wrap your lips around him, but grabs you by the hair with his free hand and pulls you back. 

“Is that all it takes? You’re real cock hungry, aren’t you?” He taunts, ignoring the wince of pain you let out as his hand tightens in your hair. 

You consider mouthing off again, and Jongseob sees it in the way your eyes twitch. But when you opt to stay silent, he smiles. 

“Good, you’re learning,” he coos condescendingly before he feeds you his cock. 

You nearly moan at the familiar taste of his velvety length on your tongue, eager as you push yourself forward to take him to the back of your throat. 

But you get interrupted with a moan when you feel eager fingers prod at your sodden panties before slipping under and dragging through your folds. 

You try to look over at Soul but Jongseob pulls you by the hair to keep your eyes on him. 

You let out a sharp moan around Jongseob when two fingers shove their way inside of you with no preparation, the pain sharp enough to make your legs jolt to close but Soul shoves them right back down by the bar. 

You feel Jongseob harden in your mouth as you continue to whine around him from the feeling of Soul starting to fuck his fingers into you at a brutal pace right off the bat, the stinging pain leaving you squirming away but burning for more.

At the same time, Jongseob starts to thrust into your mouth, fucking himself into the wet heat with no consideration for your breath or your gag reflex. 

You take it all, because you really have no other choice. And they’re relentless as they take advantage of your state, your body thrumming with heat and electricity as it’s used to their wishes. 

Your eyes are starting to blur with tears as you fight to keep them open and on Jongseob’s blissed out face, his head tilted back as he chases his pleasure. 

You’re barreled right to the edge of your orgasm when Soul starts to rub his thumb over your clit in quick circles, but as soon as you’re about to tip off, his hands are gone from you completely and Jongseob pulls out of your mouth. 

You gasp for breath, coughing a little as your body trembles from your high being ripped away from you right at the precipice. 

“You didn’t think we’d let you come that easily did you?” Soul giggles at the pained look on your face, teasingly patting your clit just to see you squirm. 

“C’mon, I was so close,” you argue, trying to buck up into his hand but he pulls away. “I’m doing what you told me to do!”

Soul tsk’s as he starts to shed his layers of clothing. “You’re still talking too much, so you’re not.”

But you’re not listening anymore because his abs are looking you right in the eye and you’re struck with the ridiculous needs to lick him like chocolate. 

You almost don’t hear Jongseob’s scolding “pathetic” as he shifts down, brought back to your senses when his warm lips latch onto your nipple.

You sigh at the warmth that spreads through your chest, arching to press further into his mouth as he swirls his tongue around the stiffening bud and sucks, his hand moving to your other tit. 

Soul leans over to press a quick kiss to your other nipple as Jongseob kneads the soft mound. “It’s cute that you’re trying to be all bratty,” he says, looking you in the eye as he lets his tongue flick at the soft peak. “But it doesn’t take much to make you go all dumb does it?”

The words fill your head with a humiliated thrill, and before you can try and retaliate, Soul takes your nipple into his mouth and sucks hard enough to make you moan at the sharp pleasure. 

You feel a little drunk as they both lap at your tits, sucking and humming like it’s a meal they can’t miss, and your nipples are sensitive enough to make your pussy throb from the feeling. 

Your hips grind up into nothing as you squirm under their ministrations, mewling from pleasure. It only gets worse when one of their hands, you don’t know whose, slips into your panties and starts to rub at your clit again. 

It doesn’t take long for you to reach that peak again, but like before, they stop right before you can come.

You nearly sob as they pull away again, glaring up at Soul’s grinning face when your vision clears. 

“You can’t come,” he tells you, pushing the bar between your legs back down when he notices your legs have strayed. “Not until we do.”

You don’t notice Jongseob slipping between your legs until you feel the hard press of his length slip under the fabric of your panties and slide between the wet mess of your folds.

“Fuck!” You keen when you feel the head of his cock prod harshly against your sensitive clit. “I-I’m not gonna last that long!”

“That’s not our fucking problem is it?” Jongseob mutters as he starts to fuck into the space between your panties and your twitching cunt, groaning at the how slick you already are. “So fucking wet already.”

You whine at every brush of his twitching tip over your clit, trying to grind your hips up in search for more friction but Jongseob grabs ahold of the bar and keeps you pushed down. All you can do is just lay there as he grinds his cock against you and chases his own pleasure, leaving you with stuttered stimulation that only frustrates you. 

You turn your eyes up to Soul in a quiet plea, but he’s too focused on watching the way your breasts move with each shift of your body, stroking himself to the sight of you. 

“Sho,” you whisper, nearly gasping when his eyes snap up to yours, all wide and blown with desire. 

“So pretty,” he breathes like he’s in a trance before cupping your breast in one hand, squeezing it as he brings the head of his cock to circle around your nipple, spreading his precum around the area. 

You whine at the filthy sight of Soul grinding himself against your chest, your eyes and your mind hazing over as Jongseob continues to chase his pleasure against your slick cunt. 

His thrusts are starting to stutter though and he’s starting to nudge his tip against your entrance with every pass, teasing you and making you think he’s going to finally slip into you, but he diverts at the last second. 

“Seobie,” you whine, your cunt fluttering around nothing. 

Soul clicks his tongue before shoving his fingers into your mouth, promptly shutting you up. 

Jongseob curses, sliding himself back down and nudging against the enticing heat of your entrance again. “Want me?” He asks you, pupils blown in a similar state of ruin to Soul’s as he looks up at you. 

You whimper around Soul’s fingers and nod, and Jongseob doesn’t leave you waiting, mostly because he can’t keep himself waiting, so he readjusts and sinks into you in one quick slide. 

He groans as he settles all the way to the hilt, rolling his hips to push all the way in. You swallow him in eagerly, sighing at the feeling of finally being stretched and filled to the brim. 

The pace he picks up soon after is frantic as he chases his high, effectively pushing you closer to your orgasm with each rough snap of his hips. His knuckles go white where they’re gripping the metal bar and keeping you folded down as he makes quick work of you. 

“So fucking tight,” he grunts as he watches the way you swallow him in, watches the milky ring of your mixed arousals form where you’re both connected. “Just made to take me weren’t you?”

You whine around Soul’s fingers, trying your best to roll up and meet his thrusts but there’s really no space for movement. “Mm— F’r you!”

Jongseob groans at that, pausing to readjust and lean on his elbow beside your head, the metal bar pressing against his chest, before he fires up again with hard, rough thrusts that has him brushing against your sweet spot head on. 

“Gonna cum,” he mutters through grit teeth, watching the way your face shifts and eyes roll back at the onslaught of burning pleasure.

He plows into you relentlessly, driving you right towards that edge again, before he stutters and shoves himself all the way in. He stills as he paints the depths of your walls with his release with a guttural groan. 

You really do sob this time as the cease of friction once again rips your orgasm away from you. But Jongseob doesn’t seem to care, just rolls himself in deeper to push his cum all the way in.

He sits himself up to watch as his cum leaks out of you when he pulls out, only to gather it with his fingers to push it back into your fluttering cunt. 

“Keep it,” he mutters breathily, dazed at the sight of your pretty cunt leaking his seed. 

But he doesn’t get to relish in the sight much longer because Soul is elbowing his way in, pushing Jongseob aside so he can have his fill of you. 

You barely get a chance to gather your wits before you feel Soul’s thick cock push it’s way into you, the abundance of both your and Jongseob’s arousals squelching lewdly as he starts to fuck into you at a quick pace.

You’re already overridden and sensitive with sensation despite not having come yet, whining at the way he stretches you out with each eager thrust. 

Soul’s hands immediately find their way to your chest, gripping down on your tits as he pistons into your twitching, sensitive body. 

“So good for us,” he breathes over you, dark eyes drinking in the fucked out sight of you. 

You whimper, finding reprieve in the praise, but you were foolish to think that would last. 

“Such a good little slut, aren’t you?” He grunts, fucking into you even harder when he sees the fresh tears brimming in your eyes. “Letting us tie you up and— fuck— use you as we want? You’d let us just keep you like this wouldn’t you?”

When you don’t answer, mostly because you’re too overwhelmed to, he raises one hand to grab your chin and force your eyes to focus on him. 

“Answer me.”

You cry out at a particularly harsh thrust, one that punches right into your g spot. 

“Yes!” You sob, body trembling as his pace picks back up into that unforgiving, relentless one. “Yes, ‘m you’re slut— just a toy, please, use me— ‘m all yours!”

You have no idea what you’re ever saying anymore, every string of thought rearranged and tangled through your fucked out haze. Your body thrashes uncontrollably under his, wrists tugging against the cuffs holding them hostage. 

And it only makes Soul more manic as he leans down and crashes his lips into yours, mostly teeth and tongue as he practically punches his next few thrusts into you before he goes rigid and cums with a choked groan against your lips. 

You feel his warm release shoot into you, pooling in with whatever Jongseob had left behind and leaving you feeling absolutely full. 

But it doesn’t feel like enough. 

Soul lifts up to watch the ring of cum form around his cock where he’s still buried in you. He pulls out slowly, groaning softly at just how much you start to gush with nothing in the way.

It’s quiet as all he does is stare. Even Jongseob, who’d resigned himself to the side, is entranced by just how much you’re dripping. 

But the sob that wracks your body from the depths of your chest has them scrambling in action. Jongseob immediately darts to your side, hand cradling your cheek gently as he kisses away your tears. Soul works the spreader bar off of you, his hands kneading and soothing away the dull ache the leather left behind. 

“We got you, baby,” Jongseob murmurs as he pecks your lips, thumb brushing over your cheekbone. “You okay?”

You sniffle, weakly tugging against the cuffs. “Wanna touch you,” you plead in a small voice, because as much as you want to come, you want to touch them, feel them, hold them as you do. 

Soul immediately rushes to undo the cuffs, and when your hands are free, he gathers them in his and presses light kisses to the sore joints. 

“Do they hurt?” Soul asks, all of the dark desire gone and given way to concern. He presses into your side, placing your hands down to your chest but keeping a loose grip around one. “Was that too much?”

You shake your head slightly, mind still buzzing with the need for completion. 

Jongseob senses it, nuzzling into your jaw as his hand slides warmly down your stomach, slipping between your legs. “You did so good for us,” he murmurs sweetly, slowly pushing two fingers into your still aching walls. “You can come now, ‘kay?”

You sigh in relief as his fingers start to slowly pump into you with intent.

Soul nuzzles into your neck, planting a kiss to your sweaty skin as he joins Jongseob, circling two fingers around your pulsing clit. 

They work in tandem to ease your body down from tension and nerves into boneless pleasure, pulling soft whines and moans from your lips. Their lips are present and warm as they leave kisses and whisper praises against whatever skin they can reach. 

Your hands, finally free, hold onto their arms, feeling the heat of them and the shift of their muscles as they work you steadily to your high. 

The coil in your guy tightens, your body starting to go rigid as you're pushed towards your high, and this time there’s no pulling away from it. 

“Close,” you gasp, your legs clamping down around their hands, and there’s nothing in the way to stop you. 

“Come for us,” Soul whispers into your ear, voice soft and silky as it pushes you right over. 

Jongseob crooks his fingers against that sweet spot in you just as you come, coaxing your orgasm out of you as you gush around his fingers while Soul’s fingers keep working your clit. 

It’s not intense, it’s not mind-blowing; but it’s warm and it’s safe and it’s all encompassing as you come, held so delicately between the both of them as they praise you and lull you through your high. 

You’re not sure when the kiss had started, or when your consciousness had dipped for a moment, but it’s a tangle of lips and soft tongues as they languidly kiss you together, fingers still buried in you but unmoving like just another point of connection to you. Soul’s hand is on your chest but not intruding, just holding you as he pushes further into your and Jongseob’s mouths. 

Soul is the first to move away and Jongseob takes the free reign to press deeper into the kiss, coaxing a soft moan from your lips as he slowly pulls his fingers out of you. 

It’s a delicate moment— until Jongseob yelps and pulls back from the kiss, and you learn why when you look up to see that Soul had taken Jongseob’s hand and latched his mouth onto his fingers to suck the slick off of them. 

Soul’s eyes glint mischievously at Jongseob’s weak glare as he smiles around his fingers, only pushing them deeper into his mouth. 

 “Shota,” Jongseob says in a warning tone, and Soul finally pops off his fingers. 

“Tastes good,” he answers simply with a shrug. Then he shuffles off the bed and disappears into the bathroom. 

You huff a quiet laugh when Jongseob drops his head on your chest with a muttered, “Freak.”

“As if you’re any better,” you point out, finally mustering enough sense to string together a proper sentence. 

Jongseob lifts his head to look at you with a raised brow. “You can’t talk, Miss I Want My Boyfriends To Dominate Me But Can’t Grow The Balls To Ask Them.”

You yelp when he pinches your hip, shoving at his chest. “Well where’s the fun in that?”

“So flirting with our best friend is fun then?”

You turn your head to look at Soul as he climbs back on the bed with a damp towel, a little pouty as he recalls that night with Intak.

You groan, dropping your head back. “That wasn’t even flirting! I was just— ah!”

You hiss when Soul swipes the towel between your legs, still sensitive from the assault your poor cunt just went though.

Soul apologizes, making quick work of cleaning you up before tossing the towel to Jongseob to clean himself. 

“Whatever it was, don’t do it again,” Soul tells you firmly before laying back down beside you. 

You watch the pout on his lips with a smile. “Aw, didn’t take you for the possessive type. I expected Jongseob, but not you.”

“He’s worse,” Jongseob says as he plasters himself against your side, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you in. 

Soul follows your body, wrapping around you from his side before he pulls the blanket over you. “No, he’s definitely worse.”

You snicker, settling into all the warmth. “It doesn’t matter who’s worse. I’m only yours anyway.”

There’s a comfortable silence, thoughtful, before Jongseob pipes up quietly. “Seriously, that wasn’t too much was it?”

You turn your head to face him and the reluctance in his gaze. “Not at all.” You press a kiss to his nose, smiling when it scrunches in response. “It’s just what I wanted.”

“Does that mean our first Valentine’s was a success?” Soul asks from your other side and you laugh, warm from the dull throbbing between your legs and the fuzzy feeling in your chest that feels strangely at home. 

You turn to Soul, bumping your nose against his as you answer him with a resounding yes.

divider by @pixopix!

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