Jiung Supremacy🤤

“That was amazing!” you yelled as you ran towards Taehyun, who just made the winning shot right at the buzzer. It was forty to forty-three, the home team taking the championship. You jumped into his arms and he spun you around, his hold on you tightening. He was dripping with sweat, but you didn’t care one bit. Taehyun put you back down on your feet and you took a step back to get a good look at him. “That,” you started, catching your breath a little, “was amazing! You got it on the buzzer too!”

Taehyun smiled at you as he looked over at his cheering teammates who were still on the basketball court. They caught sight of the two of you and he waved them over. “Wasn’t it?” Taehyun asked rhetorically. “I wasn’t even expecting it—I wasn't even thinking when I shot from halfway across the court, but it went in anyway!”

You pulled his attention back down to where you stood next to him so you could kiss him. Taehyun smiled into the kiss, rocking you back and forth for a moment before the two of you parted just in time to be engulfed by the rest of the team.

Sweaty limbs were all over you and the air around you was filled with laughter. It was such an electrifying moment, that you couldn’t help but feel like you were part of the team. Taehyun liked to call you his “good luck charm.” He claimed that whenever you were at one of their basketball games, which most of them, that they always won. You’d like think that it was just their pure talent, but you bathed in how the team hoisted you up onto their shoulders and chanted, “Good luck charm! Good luck charm!” Some even went as far to tell the opposing team to suck it.

You were laughing so hard that your stomach was hurting, but the night was far from over. The celebrations have only begun.

Taehyun pulled you to where him and his close friends on the team stood and away from the rest of the team who were now making their way to the locker room. Yeonjun pulled you into his sweaty side, his arm wrapping around your shoulders. “So, are you gonna reward us for winning the championship?” Yeonjun asked with a flirty tone, looking down at your frame.

Taehyun made a face as he grabbed your wrist and pulled you into his chest. “What the fuck, man? She’s my girlfriend!” Taehyun said, disgusted. Yeonjun just laughed at him, the other four boys joining in. The smile grew on your face and you buried it into Taehyun’s chest.

“That didn’t seem to be a problem last game,” Beomgyu replied. Taehyun’s disgusted attitude dropped and he harshly nudged Beomgyu away. He fought the smirk on his face as he pushed away the boys and kept you at his side.

Yeonjun yanked you into his chest, his hands traveling down to cup your ass. “Come on,” he dragged out, “It was so much fun last time, wasn’t it?” Yeonjun leaned down and whispered the latter half of his sentence in your ear as his hands traveled back up your body. “You can’t even deny it, we were all there. We could start right now—right in the locker room.”

Beomgyu pulled you away from him, throwing a dirty look over his shoulder. “At least treat her like a lady, Yeonjun!” He hissed at him.

“She wasn’t asking to be treated like a lady when we were all inside of her,” Yeonjun threw back. The group laughed and heat rose to your face as you thought about what happened between the six of you at their last game. Flashes of a hotel room crossed your mind and you could almost feel the stickiness and the sweat all over your skin. You crossed your legs at it, laying your head on Beomgyu’s shoulder to try and focus on the conversation that they were having.

“You two are quiet, what are you thinking about, huh? Thinking about how you’ll try to last longer than five minutes this time?” Beomgyu asked Soobin and Kai, the vibration of his voice travelling down your side. The boys laughed and Soobin and Kai grew red. “Or maybe they’re thinking about different positions to put her in when it’s their turn…” Beomgyu trailed mockingly, and Kai laughed.

It was a little embarrassing how they were talking about all of this so out in the open, like they werent even aware that there were others still around them. Fans of both teams were passing you by, staring with wide, lustful eyes at the teammates and they didn’t even give them a single look. They were completely tuned in to the conversation they were having about putting you into different positions and splitting you completely open like it was just another day, like they were talking about the weather.

They didn’t even mind that they were talking about you in front of you either. “Yeah,” Kai started a bit awkwardly, “Maybe this time I’ll just have her suck me off. Maybe deepthroat her?” Soobin then hurriedly chimed in, “Dude, you’ll be missing out! Her pussy is heavenly, I’ve never felt anything like it before.” While they talked, Beomgyu’s hands trailed lower and lower until his thumb was playing with the hem of the skirt you wore. Occasionally he dipped it under and rubbed his thumb along the smooth skin there.

“All that I know,” Taehyun spoke over the others, his voice a bit louder than before and catching the attention of a group that walked past you all, “is that she’s my girlfriend, so I get to finish her off completely.” You cringed a little at how the passing group’s eyebrows raised at the innuendo.

Yeonjun snorted at Taehyun’s words, “Not that there’ll be much left when we’re done with her.”

Taehyun glared at him. “Fine, then we’ll go oldest to youngest.” The group groaned, but Yeonjun smirked at you, his eyes trailing you up and down and stopping at Beomgyu’s thumb at the hem of your skirt. His nose twitched a bit before he looked away.

“How is that any fair?” Kai asked. Soobin quickly cut in, “You said that you just wanted to deepthroat her! You don’t need her to be not fucked out for that, Kai.”

Kai rolled his eyes at him, muttering under his breath. “Let’s go then,” Yeonjun spoke, walking up to you and pulling you from Beomgyu’s grasp. “I’m gonna make sure you don’t even realize that the others are there once I’m done with you. I hope you like me being rough.” He looked back at you for a moment, his eyes trailing over your hand in his as you followed him like a waiting puppy. “What am I even saying? Of course you do. Let’s hope your boyfriend doesn’t get too jealous.”

The six of you walked back to the locker room, chuckles and muttered words leaving your lips at each twist and turn of the way there. The closer you got to it, the more your heart raced. For some reason, this time made you more nervous.

When they jokingly purposed the idea last time—which was mainly Yeonjun’s doing—it was all excited nerves and fiery skin. The thought of them all taking turns being inside you thrilled you, especially since you found them all attractive. That time was them just testing the waters, seeing how far you would let them push your buttons until you pushed them away. After all, you were still Taehyun’s girlfriend. This time, however, all bets were on the table, all opportunities. And this wasn’t just any regular win—this was the championship win. The big, golden shiny medal. And you were the celebration, the prize.

To say you were excited and nervous was an understatement, and the boys weren’t shy on voicing exactly what they wanted to do to you either.

Yeonjun pushed the locker room door open and that zealous feeling overwhelmed you. Thankfully, the rest of their teammates have already filed out, most likely doing interviews somewhere in the building. The room was completely empty—not that you would have cared if you had a broader audience at this point—and Yeonjun looked back at where you stood in the doorway and smirked. “Looks like I got you all to myself.”

“We’re all still here, dipshit,” Taehyun scoffed, taking your hand and leading you further into the room. He walked you to the bench near the lockers and motioned for you to sit. “Take your clothes off,” he then said, his voice soft, as he looked up at his teammates getting their stuff together around the room. You did as he said, shaky fingers excitedly tugging at the hem of your shirt. Taehyun pulled at the collar of his jersey behind his neck before taking it off all in one motion. He tossed it down onto the bench next to you before moving to grab his things from his locker.

You were wiggling the skirt you were wearing down your legs when Kai appeared in front of you. He trapped you against him with his arms at the sides of your body with a teasing smile. Kai was shirtless too, and you looked down at the way his abs tightened with his laugh. He leaned in closer to you, and in a low voice he said, “You’re eager.”

“What girl wouldn’t be?” you responded, your lips brushing up against his with each word you spoke. Kai chuckled again, shaking his head a little, before he pressed his lips to yours. You leaned more into the kiss and your tits pressed up against his chest. Your arm wrapped around his torso to pull him closer as your lips parted to give him more access to your mouth.

Kai graciously accepted your invitation, groaning into your mouth like its been ages since he’s kissed anyone. His hand moved to the top of your thigh and your back practically arched at the electrifying touch, at the hint of what was to come. “Please,” you muttered into his mouth, the sound coming out muffled, but Kai heard you anyway as his hand trailed to your inner thigh.

It was like the two of you were the only ones in the room. You didn’t care one bit that you were suppose to be with Yeonjun right now instead of Kai. The rules flew completely out of the window as soon as Kai’s lips were on yours. All you wanted to do was show him just how well you could use your mouth, and you were sure that Kai was wondering about the thought as well. The only person you sucked off besides your boyfriend was Beomgyu, and he made sure to show the rest of the group how deep your throat could take his big cock. “Wow, Taehyun… you really trained her to take dick well! I wasn’t expecting this,” Beomgyu remarked as the sound of you gagging and the other boys’ moans filled the hotel room as they got themselves off at the sight of it.

You remembered looking at Kai then, tears streaming down your hot face and saliva dripping down your chin. It must’ve stuck with him this whole time.

Before you and Kai could go any further, he was ripped away from you with a short gasp. Yeonjun had a tight grasp in Kai’s damp ashy blonde hair and his eyes held a fury unlike anything you’ve seen from him before. He was completely naked, save for a towel haphazardly thrown over his shoulder, and you greedily took him in despite him not sparing you a single glance. His focus was completely on Kai.

“Do I have to teach you a lesson on waiting your turn?” Yeonjun hissed in Kai’s ear, his grip tightening. Kai winced, but shook his head at the question, breathing out a quick “No!” Yeonjun pushed him to the side and away from where you still sat on the bench, half naked and panting with desire as you watched the scene unfold. Your cheeks were burning, but not because you were embarrassed at being caught. You wanted Yeonjun to turn his attention onto you next, to scold you too.

You quickly looked around the room. The rest of the boys were in various stages of being naked too, their items scattered as they put stuff away and got ready for their celebration. Taehyun caught your attention from across the room. His boxers were hanging low on his hips and his sweaty hair was pushed back off of his forehead to dry out of his eyes. He just shook his head at you, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. Taehyun already knew what you were trying to do, it came as no shock to him. You smirked and hid it by biting your lips as you looked back to Yeonjun.

Yeonjun looked over his shoulder at your boyfriend, “I knew your girl was a slut, but I didn’t know it was to this extent. Can’t even get my hands on her before she’s flying to someone else.” Finally, Yeonjun turned to look at you, and you inhaled sharply.

His brows were drawn together and his face was twisted into one of almost disgust along with the underlying anger from catching Kai with you before him. Yeonjun’s lips were pulled back in a mocking smile that showed his teeth. It was almost embarrassing how hard you were breathing, how your chest rose and fell vigorously with how excited you were. You locked eyes with him, licking your lips as you wiggled to push down your soaked panties and let your skirt fall to the tile with it, and bared yourself to him completely.

Yeonjun just turned and walked away from you.

Your mouth fell open, and you hunched into yourself a bit. “Where are you going?!” Taehyun asked Yeonjun as he passed by him, annoyed on your behalf. Yeonjun’s answer was short in response, “To shower.”

Taehyun looked back at you for a moment and you stared at him with wide eyes. “What about her? It’s your turn!” Yeonjun walked back to where the showers were and threw his towel over the side of the wall. His other shower supplies were already sitting there. “Tell her to come on,” Yeonjun simply said and turned the water on.

Your gaze returned to Taehyun, hesitancy radiating off of you. He tilted his head back to where Yeonjun was showering and returned back to getting his stuff together. You sat on the bench for a moment before you stood on shaky legs.

The walk back to the showers seemed endless and the sound of the water only grew. You peeked around the wall to the shower Yeonjun was at to see his back was turned to you as the stream of water poured over him. “Yeonjun?” you called in a soft voice, stepping into the open shower. Your feet were met with warm water as you stepped closer.

Yeonjun turned at the sound of your voice, his eyes half closed so the water didnt drip into them. He ran his hands through his wet hair to get a better look at you and you lingered a couple feet from him. “Why are you acting so shy now? Come here,” he says while stepping out of the water a bit.

You don’t know why you were so shy either. Maybe it was the way Yeonjun turned from you like he didn’t want to fuck you, despite it all being his idea. Maybe it was because he was the only one who didn’t voice exactly what he wanted to do to you besides asking if you liked him being rough. The showers weren’t what you were imagining when he said “rough,” and you struggled to picture how you’d even manouver in here.

When you were right in front of him, Yeonjun didn’t hesitate to bring you closer. He hugged your naked body tight to his and roughly kissed you like he had a problem.

Yeonjun drowned out your gasp by sticking his tongue inside your mouth instead at the golden opportunity. His hand was on the back of your neck so you couldn’t move from his hold, his fingers tangled in the strands of your hair as your lips moved as one. You couldn’t help but moan, and that seemed to egg Yeonjun on even further as he pushed you up against the wall and away from the water completely.

He pulled away from you, just mere inches so your face was fully in his view. “Never do that again,” he said lowly. That same anger from earlier lingered deep within it, but you decided to act clueless to it anyway. You look up at him with big eyes, glancing at how his lips were wet with your shared saliva and how it still connected the two of you. “Do what again?” you asked innocently.

Yeonjun’s eyes narrowed at you, not as amused as Taehyun would be if it was the two of you in this situation. “Don’t play dumb with me,” Yeonjun said in response. “You’ll only piss me off more. You know what I’m talking about.”

You just smiled at him, your hands running up his abs and towards his chest. “What if I like pissing you off, hm?” You leaned in closer so your lips were just against his. “What if I think it’s hot?”

Yeonjun’s hand at the back of your neck pulled at your hair just before your lips could fully connect. His gaze was dark, but the corners of his plush lips were raised ever so slightly at your confession. “I don’t like sharing,” Yeonjun spoke, his voice still low. “Especially not with them.”

Your smile grew and you had to resist the urge to laugh. “You don’t have much of a choice, now do you?”

Yeonjun chuckled, “That’s what you think.” He parted your legs with his knee. “They all have to fuck you after I do, not the other way around. By then, you’re already used goods. Not even that boyfriend of yours gets to have you first. You’re all mine.”

He settled his knee in between your legs, right against your heat. You bit down on your bottom lip as you tried to hold in your moan and you adjusted the way you stood. Slowly, you began to roll your hips, your gaze never leaving Yeonjun’s. You felt his cock twitch against your thigh and you smiled more. “What are you waiting for then?” you asked him. “I’m yours.”

Before you could even fully finish your sentence Yeonjun was kissing you again, rough and sloppy like he just wanted to shut you up. You moved your hips faster, the water from his shower making it easier along with just how aroused you were, as a moan spilled past your lips. Yeonjun swallowed it whole.

His hands moved down to your hips and he moved them against his thigh for you. Yeonjun bit down on your bottom lip and you whined, pulling away from his lips a little.

Your moans were loud, even over the abandoned shower stream. You turned to look behind you at the boys, your gaze scanning them all. Taehyun leaned against the wall that divided the lockers from the showers, completely naked like you all now were, an unreadable expression on his face. His cock was in his hand and he lazily stroked the base of it.

Soobin was the one who seemed the most unraveled so far. His cock was leaking and red and he stroked it with quick movements. Soft pants emitted from his open mouth and every so often he threw his head back when you moaned a particular way. Soobin’s hair stuck to his forehead with the effort he was exerting. He could barely stand up on his own two feet against the lockers.

Beomgyu was leaning against a locker a few feet away from him, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. He was the only one without his cock in his hands, but it still stood tall anyway. His arms were crossed against his chest and he seemed almost bored. You could tell he was expecting more action like how the last time was instead of Yeonjun hiding you behind a wall. Beomgyu didn’t dare to open his mouth and say anything about it, though.

Kai sat at the bench you were previously at, ears red with his barely controlled lust. He had a tight hold on the tip of his leaking cock as he rubbed it slowly. It looked like he was trying to savor every moment, edge himself on until it was finally his turn and he could cum down your throat instead. When you looked at him, he nearly jerked in his spot and his face grew redder.

It all turned you on even more, made your moans louder and your hips move faster. Yeonjun’s lips were on your neck, his teeth nipping at your unmarred skin before anyone else could. He was clearly staking his claim on you for the rest of them—and for everyone else once you were all done—to see. Yeonjun trailed sloppy kisses back up and over his work, relishing in how your body jerked each time your clit dragged along his thigh and his teeth grazed over the sensitive hickeys he just left. But, he wouldn’t just let you cum that easily, not when you weren’t even looking at him—focused on him.

Yeonjun pulled his knee out from under you and you would’ve fallen to the wet tile had his hands not been at your hips. Your gaze flew to his and the look on his face alone could’ve made you cum. His head was slightly tilted and his face was a perfect mask of calmness and composure, but you could see the cracks. Yeonjun’s jaw was tense as he worked it and his eyes were darker than ever. He didn’t even bother to move his black hair out of his eyes so you could really see how much you pissed him off.

Instead, Yeonjun dragged you back out to the lockers right in the center of all of the boys and pushed you down to the bench next to where Kai still sat. Kai hesitantly looked at the two of you before standing to his feet and moving to the other side of the wall where Taehyun stood. You ran your hands down your thighs, the skin still slightly wet from Yeonjun’s. He threw a leg over the bench next to you and roughly angled you to the side. You understood his intention and got on your hands and knees on the bench.

“Little slut is dripping,” Yeonjun says loudly, enough for the rest of the boys to perk up and lean to get a look as he pushes his hand down your back. Thr same hand smacks your ass before he’s spreading your pussy open more to get a better look. “Needy little thing, aren’t you? You’re so fucking desperate for cock that it has you clenching around nothing,” Yeonjun continues, rubbing his thumb in your wetness. You wiggle your ass back at him, but he just tsks.

“Stop teasing and just fuck me already,” You murmur through gritted teeth against your arms. You were already annoyed that he stopped you from cumming once, you didn’t need him dragging his teasing out.

Yeonjun just ignored you and ran the tip of his cock between your folds. The sound your pussy made was obscene and you heard Soobin groan in front of you as he rounded the bench to stare at it. You moaned into your arm, not wanting to give Yeonjun the satisfaction anymore, but that only seemed to piss him off more. Without warning, he fully pushed himself inside of you, his thick cock stretching you out so deliciously. You cried out as you were pushed forward from the force. “Fuck!” you gritted out, biting down hard on your lip. It just reminded you of how Yeonjun did the same thing minutes before and you moaned again.

“That’s it, baby, let them all know how good my cock feels.” Yeonjun didn’t miss a beat.

He didn’t start easy either, didn’t grant you with the slow drag of his cock that increased with each trust. Instead, Yeonjun was all rough edges and a quick pace. He held your hips in place and basically fucked you on his cock himself.

The sound of skin against skin and pleasurable moans bounced around the walls of the locker room. Not just from you and Yeonjun, but from all of you. If you were outside of the locker room right now you would’ve thought that an orgy was happening inside, not just two people fucking and the rest crowded around to watch.

You didn’t realize there were tears in your eyes until your chin was being grabbed and your head was being lifted. Your blurry vision barely made out Taehyun’s face, nor did you fully recognize that he was in front of you. You were too focused on Yeonjun’s cock splitting you open and the pathetic mewls and moans that left your mouth. Each thrust of his sent you flying forward before his rough grip brought you right back down on his length. It made you dizzy, and it made your knees weak with each wave of pleasure that hit you when the tip of his cock kissed your sweet spot.

A loud mix between a moan and a gasp was ripped from your throat when you felt Yeonjun’s fingers in your hair pulling you back towards his chest, still fucking you. His lips were near your ear and you heard his grunts clear as day. “Why don’t you tell your boyfriend how much of a cock-hungry bitch you are?” Yeonjun’s voice filled your ear. “How fucking pathetic you are on someone else’s cock? Go on—” Yeonjun gritted out each word with a perfectly timed thrust “—tell him.”

You shook your head as your nails dug into Yeonjun’s thighs, causing him to curse when they broke the skin. He laughed in your ear.

Yeonjun’s hand left your hair, and you almost whined at the loss. His grip against the strands hurt, but it hurt so good. It trailed along the side of your neck before sitting at the base of your throat. Yeonjun left it there for a moment, his other hand grabbing your hip so hard that you were sure it’ll leave a bruise, as he fucked into you with a laugh.

You could tell he was laughing at the way your heart rate picked up, at how you clenched around him so hard he struggled to fuck you at the same pace. “Such a dirty little slut…” Yeonjun trailed lowly into your ear, nibbling at your lobe a bit. “You like this, don’t you? Does it turn you on?”

Before you could even respond, even think, Yeonjun was wrapping his bicep around your throat and halting the breath from your lungs from the pure shock. He didn’t hold back—his arm around you was just tight enough to make you a little lightheaded and seeing stars. Your ears rang and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You didn’t even hear how much louder you suddenly got at the action, nor did you hear the orgasmic moans emitting from the other boys that you forgot were in the same room.

“Tell your boyfriend how much of a whore you are. Tell him how he could never make you feel like this, how forgettable he is. Tell him how you’re mine.” Yeonjun’s headlock got a fraction tighter with each sentence, teetering you right along the edge before throwing you over completely. Your pussy fluttered wildly around Yeonjun’s cock and his harsh thrusts that he refused to soften. You felt like putty in his arms, fully moldable for him, and he knew it—that was the worst part. “Tell him,” Yeonjun whispered in your ear, and you could hear his wicked smirk.

You completely unraveled, melted right into Yeonjun’s arms as your body shook and a moan that only could be heard in a cheap porno moved right through you. Cum spilled from out of you and around Yeonjun’s hard cock, but he just used it as a way to slip deeper into you.

“I’m a whore,” you spoke in a cracked voice, barely heard through your breathless pants and shallow moans. Your eyes fluttered closed from the ripples of pleasure as Yeonjun fucked you through your orgasm, his bicep still tight around your throat and his pace fast that sent you further into a haze. “And-And everyone’s forgettable and I’m yours. I’m yours…”

More tears fell down your cheeks as you felt Yeonjun’s cock throb inside of you. Your body moved on it’s own, getting all that it could from him as you circled your hips. That’s not what made Yeonjun’s head fall into the crook of your neck, his hips stuttering and his grunts turning to almost pained moans, though. You sighed out another breathy moan, your eyes finally fluttering open as Yeonjun came inside of you.

Yeonjun’s thrusts finally slowed as he kept fucking you through his own orgasm, pressing wet kisses to the side of your neck and sending shivers down your spine. When he was milked dry, his arm left your throat and you fell forward onto the bench, barely catching yourself in time.

“That was so fucking hot,” you heard Beomgyu moan out. Your surroundings clarified in an instant and hit you full force. Your body felt weak, and the feeling only got worse when Yeonjun pulled out of you and your mixed cum dripped down your inner thighs. How were you supposed to go four more rounds if Yeonjun’s turn basically took you right out of the game?

You felt your ass being grabbed and being spread apart. Looking behind you on wobbly knees, you found Soobin’s nose practically shoved into your messy cunt. A layer of sweat stuck to you, and you suddenly wished that the building had better A/C.

A hand guided your face forward again, and you looked up to see your boyfriend in front of you. Taehyun smashed his lips against yours, not even bothering to disguise how much he wanted you right now. You’d bet he was regretting going from oldest to youngest right now. “Okay, baby?” he murmured against your lips, barely parting from you to speak. You nodded, too breathless to speak. Fingers gripped your chin and you were being pulled from Taehyun’s lips. Soobin’s face came into view, and he replaced Taehyun’s lips with his own.

Soobin’s big hand found your waist, steadying you up on your knees as you gained your strength back. You raised a hand to cup his cheek before running it through his hair to get it out of his face. Giggling as the two of you parted, you took in Soobin’s appearance—how red and hard his cock is, and how messy it and his stomach were with his own cum.

“You’re so messy already!” You laughed at him, the smile lingering on your face. Soobin’s smile was just as big, his sneaky hands coming to cup your breasts. “You are too!” he responded a bit awkwardly with a laugh. Soobin’s turn shouldn’t be long, if his cum splattered all over himself and pink-tinged cheeks was anything to go by.

You bit your lip a little as you looked at him, the corner of your mouth raising. You then adjusted yourself on the bench. Sitting down on the bench, you leaned back onto your hands as you spread your legs to give Soobin a full view of yourself, your eyes never leaving his wide ones. With how he was practically drooling over you, you would’ve thought that this was his first time seeing a naked woman—let alone the first time touching and being inside one.

It was surely a sight to see, cum messily smeared all over your folds and dripping down the insides of your thighs. The heat radiated off of your body and the thin sheen of sweat made you glisten, the fluorescent light of the locker room casted a spotlight onto you and made you glow. Soobin’s eyes hungrily took in every part of you like this was his last meal on death row, and he wasn’t going to waste any of it.

Soobin stepped towards you in a trance. He stepped over the bench so his long legs hugged it and made his way to your waiting body, cock throbbing and already leaking his precum. When he got to you, he grabbed the back of your thighs and pushed them to the sides of your body, mesmerized in the way your pussy spread open and your pretty entrance welcomed him in. Soobin grabbed his cock with one hand, giving it a couple rough tugs as he licked his dry lips.

“I’m ready for you,” you whispered, back arching a little despite not even being touched. “Please, put your cock in me already.”

Unlike Yeonjun, Soobin took his time with entering you. He let his fat cockhead stretch you out inch by inch, savoring the small whimpers you let out and how warm his cock gradually got from your heat. Soobin groaned, he could cum right then and there from the feeling, but he didn’t want to get teased again for cumming too fast.

Speaking of, Yeonjun’s voice cut through the mirage, “We all know you have five seconds in you, Soobin. Why don’t you hurry this along so the others can have their turn?”

You glanced over at him, brows knitted together from the feeling of cock getting deeper inside of you and filling you up. Yeonjun was leaning back against a locker behind Soobin, his head tilted to watch his cock enter you. His hand absentmindedly trailed along the marks you left with your nails in his thighs, the wounds angry and bright red. If they hurt, Yeonjun didn’t show it. You held his gaze for a moment before Kai spoke up.

“Maybe he’ll last longer this time,” he said, still in his same spot from Yeonjun’s turn. Taehyun was next to respond. “He’s already cum, like, twice—and he hasn’t even been inside her yet.” Beomgyu and Yeonjun laughed at that.

It was like Soobin didn’t hear them. He was too focused on the way he was buried so deep inside of you and still your pussy was sucking him in more. Slowly, he began to pull back out, groaning at his cock sliding against your walls. He pulled out until just the tip of him was still inside of you before slowly pushing back in. Soobin did this a few times, his speed gradually increasing until he found a steady rhythm to fuck you at.

The slowness of it all drove you crazy. It was such a change from your previous orgasm that your body needed more. You arched your back desperately for any sort of faster friction, wiggled and whined and moaned Soobin’s name so he knew how badly you needed more of him to no avail. Soobin pinned you down beneath him, pants falling from his lips as he hovered above you. “Stay still,” he demanded.

To satiate you, he rubbed a thumb into your clit as he fucked deeply into you slow and steady. His thumb went at a different pace than his hips did, the pad of it rubbing quick circles into your bundle of nerves. It made you jolt, like lightning struck you and you had come alive.

You wrapped your arms around Soobin’s neck to bring his lips to yours. The kiss was sloppy, the two of you too caught up in your moans of pleasure and catching your breaths to keep your lips together for too long. You felt the pressure build up in the pit of your stomach as it demanded to be unleashed.

Soobin’s pace increased as he started to chase his own release. He threw his head back, eyes rolling to the back of his skull as his hold on the back of your thighs tightened, and his hips moved wildly.

You choked back a moan, still entirely too sensitive from your previous orgasm, as you began to tremble. Your chest pushed into Soobin’s with the arching of your back. Before you could even get the words out you were cumming around Soobin’s cock.

Soobin let out a string of curses as he looked down to where your two bodies met—the both of you messy and painted white. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he cursed as he quickly pulled out of you.

You whined at the sudden loss, pussy clenching around air. Soobin just groaned as he fisted his wet cock above you, the wet sounds almost too much. A small wave of disappointment hit you at not being able to feel him cum inside of you.

With a loud moan, white spurts of Soobin’s cum shot from his cock down onto your tits. He kept stroking himself until he was milked dry and you were even more of a mess and cum-covered. He sat back on his knees, his chest rising and falling roughly as he looked down at his work with a tinge of a smile.

He ran the tips of his fingers across your chest, smearing his cum along your perked nippes and down your stomach. His touch continued until he was dipping them between your folds and smiling when you started to squirm. “Her pussy is something else,” he said, mainly to the other boys—who were still recovering from their own highs—instead of you. Soobin pushed his fingers inside of you and watched how more cum spilled out. “It’s so addictive that I just want to keep fucking her no matter how spent I am.”

You grabbed onto the sides of the bench as you raised your hips towards his fingers, a loud whimper passing through your lips when they pushed in deeper. Your head was completely clouded, the only thing that broke through the haze was complete lust.

“It’s too bad your turn is over,” Beomgyu’s voice says before his face comes into view. He’s looking over you with a smirk before he’s grabbing your hand and pulling you to your feet. You wobble, and his hands find their way to your hips and gives them a little squeeze.

Beomgyu looks over you, at how you’re a mess of sweat and cum, and tsks while shaking his head a bit, “What am I gonna do with you?”

He almost played the question off as a worried one, like one finding a crying child with a scraped knee or something of the sort, but you knew his words had a different meaning. Beomgyu was wondering what position to put you in—one he hasn’t put you in before.

Beomgyu spun you around so your back is to his chest. His hands glide down your hips before he’s nudging your feet apart with one of his own. The boys come around the two of you so they’re all in front of you, red and eager cocks in their hands at the next portion of the show. Beomgyu wastes no time at prodding at your entrance with the tip of his leaking cock. He rubs it through your creamy folds before pushing himself inside of you with ease because of it. A small whine pushes through your lips and you stumble forward the slightest bit.

“Next time,” Kai says while licking his lips, “we should record this.”

The thought of a next time and the prospect of it being recorded made you clench around Beomgyu’s cock. He hummed at it, inhaling sharply as he started to chuckle. “You like that, don’t you?” he asks almost mockingly. His hands move to your elbows and brings them tight behind your back.

Beomgyu roughly thrusts into you, using your elbows to bring you back down onto his cock. “I can practically feel you heating up over it,” he smirks.

He was right, your body was alight with the idea. Your cheeks seared and you had to close your eyes from the slight embarrassment of it all since the boys were all in front of you, smirking and laughing in your face. A string of moans rang from you with each thrust Beomgyu gave to your poor spent cunt, tits bouncing with each stroke.

“Eyes open, baby,” Taehyun said, a tight grip on your chin. You swallowed hard and opened your eyes to look at him, causing a wicked smile to spread across his face. “That’s my good girl, you’re halfway done.”

Beomgyu wrapped an arm around your elbows, his other hand trailing down your thigh and leaving goosebumps before he lifted it in the air by your knee. You cried out at the sudden new angle and the boys let out various moans as the ducked down to see your pussy get fucked harder.

You were a loud, whimpering and moaning mess. The overstimulation was finally starting to kick in and tears formed at the corners of your eyes as you cried out Beomgyu’s name over and over, too dumb on his cock to say anything else. It just urged Beomgyu to go faster and deeper, and you could hear the grin in his voice when he said, “Yeah, just like that. Keep crying my name.”

When your words turned to sputters and your pussy fluttered around Beomgyu’s cock, his arm moved from where it was wrapped around your elbows and his hand ran along your breasts and up your throat to grab your chin in a vice grip. Beomgyu pulled your mouth open before sliding two fingers down your tongue slowly. Graciously, you sucked and licked them as they went further down your throat. You could taste Soobin’s salty leftover cum from your tits.

Beomgyu’s fingers were so far down your throat that when he fucked into you they would go deeper and make you gag a little. Each time a chorus of groans followed and you felt how hard Beomgyu throbbed inside of you. If he wasn’t holding you up right now you would’ve collapsed to the tile below already. Your body shook so vigorously that it was almost too much, but it felt so good.

“Beomgyu…” you cried around his fingers, vision becoming blurry. Your voice came out broken and muffled and through half a gag. You were seconds from breaking completely, stomach tight and legs wobbling.

The sound of sex penetrated the air. Creamy noises and whimpers filled your ears and you think this is the closest you’d get to heaven. You could tell that everyone was lost in it—sweaty backs leaned against walls and lockers and red leaking cocks, parted mouths that sang symphonies, and the sounds of skin slapping against skin. It was beautiful, a wonderful celebration for a grand achievement.

“Fuck, you were right, Soobin. Her pussy is addictive, I can’t get enough of it. Taehyun’s lucky he gets this whenever he wants,” Beomgyu groaned as he spoke through gritted teeth.

By some miracle, you and Beomgyu came at the same time and your body went completely limp in his arms. That didn’t stop him from fucking through the rest of his orgasm, his fingers still in your mouth making you gag as his cum pushed out from around his cock and down your leg that wasn’t in the air.

When he filled you up completely, he called his teammates over to get a closer look at the way cum spilled out of your pussy when he pulled out. Beomgyu pulled his fingers from your mouth and you inhaled deeply, leaning back against his chest to look up at him with watery eyes.

“You’re so pretty when you cry,” Beomgyu says, placing a chaste kiss on your swollen lips.

He ran his cock through your folds a couple of times, thrusting against your clit and laughing at how your whole body jolted from the sensitivity. “You’re lucky my turn’s over or I’d have you crying all night,” Beomgyu continued, pushing you from his chest.

You flew forward with a startled yelp before landing in Taehyun’s toned arms. He gave Beomgyu a quick glare before pulling you closer to him, his thumbs rubbing comforting circles into your skin. He leaned back a little to get a good look at your face. “Isn’t she so pretty?” Taehyun says, mostly to himself, as he wiped away your tears with the pad of his thumb. It was no use for what he was about to do to you.

“And she’s all mine,” Taehyun murmured, bringing his lips down to catch yours in a searing kiss.

“Not right now she isn’t,” Yeonjun scoffed, laughing afterwards.

Taehyun just ignored him, moving you back over to the bench so you could catch your breath. He threw a leg over it before sitting down, keenly fisting his cock as he looked up at you. Taehyun helped you over the bench before sitting you right on his cock. You had to bite your lip to not whimper.

“At the end of the day, she is my girlfriend. We’re just being nice enough to let you guys join us sometimes because it’s fun. Why are you trying to ruin that, Yeonjun?” Taehyun finally responded, his attention entirely focused on you as he spoke. You stared lovingly at him, completely in a trance as he touched you.

“Yeah, shut up before you ruin it for the rest of us,” Beomgyu chimed in.

Taehyun smirked at you when you leaned back on your hand and started to roll your hips towards his, moaning softly. “Besides, nothing any of you could do to her compares to what I can do to her. I know her the best,” Taehyun continued, grabbing your hips as his eyes fluttered shut.

Whatever comeback Yeonjun had died out when you placed your feet on Taehyun’s thighs and began bouncing on his cock.

“Oh my god,” Soobin drawled, the locker behind him ringing from his head being thrown back. You were almost sure he had fucked his cock raw by now.

Taehyun’s hips rose to meet yours and you nearly blacked out from how good it felt. You stopped bouncing, mewling at the feeling and already trembling. “Keep going,” Taehyun demanded, “I didn’t tell you you could stop.”

You lifted your hips until you were halfway up his cock slowly, body shaking the entire way. Taehyun thrusted upwards so he was fully inside you again. “Faster,” he said.

The way his voice sounded, the firm demands but soft tone threw you over the edge. You picked up the pace as best as you could until your arousal was splattering over Taehyun’s stomach with his strokes.

“Just like that, baby. You’re such a good girl.”

Your nails tried their best to dig into the polished wood of the locker room bench to no avail. If you were honest, it was a little embarrassing just how fast Taehyun could wrap you around his finger, especially in front of everyone else. He didn’t need to do these big displays or make you choke to show them how you belonged to him—though, he wasn’t opposed to doing that either. It was simple in the way your body responded to him, pushing itself past its limit just to do what he says.

You think you understood now why he decided to go from oldest to youngest this time—because the decision was all his. If it were anyone else, if it wasn’t him waiting near the end for you, you would’ve been passed out by now from exertion. Deep down, the others knew that. And from the last time the six of you did this, you knew deep down that Taehyun wanted to show that to Yeonjun.

Because you were his girlfriend, his to do whatever he pleased with—his.

Your hips jolted towards Taehyun’s and a whine left your lips. You thought that you were all stretched out already, but your boyfriend always managed to prove you wrong. His cock had you seeing stars and you knew that you wouldn’t be able to last much longer bouncing on it like this. Your body would completely give out once and for all from the intense euphoria. 

You began shaking your head but Taehyun just shushed you, his hand moving from your hip so he could rub circles in your swollen clit with his thumb. Your body reacted immediately and there was no warning you could give before you were shaking like a leaf and cumming with a vigor you haven’t felt thus far.

“Turn around for me,” Taehyun spoke, still circling your clit with his thumb and sending lightning through your body. 

You tried to move from him, but the other hand he had on your hip moved to your back and held you in place firmly. You shook your head more, “I-I can’t…”

Taehyun pulled you to him so you were chest to chest. He leaned down so his lips were at your ear, his thumb at your clit not stopping its mission to help overstimulate you more. “Don’t you want to show them how good you are? Do you really want me to punish you in front of them all?” Taehyun said in a low voice, pushing his cock in and out of you slowly. “You can,” he then said in a louder voice.

You bit your lip hard and pulled yourself off of his cock, knees almost giving out as you stood to turn around. Looking behind you, you watched Taehyun line himself up with your entrance before you sunk back down on him again, your lips parting in bliss. You sat back in his lap and placed your feet back on his thighs, shivering at the cold air on your cold and messy exposed cunt.

Leaning back against Taehyun’s chest, you looked up and kissed along his jawline. You grabbed his hand that was inching towards your clit again and brought it to your tit with a cheeky smile. You moved your hips in a circle, still not having quite the energy to start bouncing again yet.

Taehyun kissed your cheek and down your neck where Yeonjun’s marks had time to darken all while his hands moved to distract you. He started fucking into while one hand moved to play with your clit and the other came to wrap around your throat. Your heart rate picked up and immediately you were loud with the way your body felt. Taehyun’s hand just got tighter around your throat, squeezing at just the right places that made you feel extra cloudy and like you were floating.

“You think you’re funny?” he joked, grunting in your ear while fucking you harder.

You were in such euphoria that all of the pleasure almost hurt. Your hips bucked wildly on their own towards Taehyun’s hand and that motion nearly made you black out with his cock pistoning into you. But, you couldn’t stop, it all felt so good that you wouldn’t have it any other way—not that Taehyun would let you anyway.

Taehyun moaned when your pussy tried its hardest to completely suck in his cock, his pace slowing and his fingers at your clit halting with the effort of trying not to cum right then and there and spoil the rest of his turn. “Greedy little pussy,” he breathed, lips near your ear. “Feels so fucking good.”

Your hips still bucked, trying to get as much stimulation as possible despite it already being entirely too much. You needed more of him, needed his cock pounding into you harder. Head falling back on Taehyun’s shoulder, you gave him better access to your neck, which he didn’t take for granted. His hand moved further up throat, cupping around just the right spot to have you dizzy and squealing.

“S-Slow… down…” you managed to get out along with a string of broken curses. Your chest rose and fell heavily and your skin felt so hot that the two of you might start a fire right there. “Fuck,” you then loudly cried out, squirming.

Taehyun told you to stay still but you couldn’t. You were shaking so bad that had it not been for his cock inside you and the way you and Taehyun looked right now, it would’ve caused concernment. Your ears rang and you could barely hear how loud you were being nor Taehyun’s words. All you felt was his hands move and your body being shifted.

Taehyun wrapped his arms behind your knees before he brought them up next to your chest. His hands then sat at the back of your neck, locking you against him completely.

He didn’t slow, in fact, he fucked into you faster and harder. The sound of his cock fucking your pussy was pornographic, and it just spurred you forward and made you wetter. Your stomach tensed and untensed rapidly and you cried out Taehyun’s name over and over when you realized what was about to happen.

“Please, please, please, please—” you begged him, not exactly sure if you were begging him to slow down again or to keep going.

Your begging was of no use. Seconds later you were squirting halfway across the room with a loud squeal, body limp and shaking and covered in sweat. You clenched down around Taehyun’s cock so hard that he jolted, stilling inside you for a brief second at how tight you felt before fucking his cum inside of you nice and deep.

“Good fucking girl,” Taehyun praised you, his hips finally slowing and his grip around you ceasing. He brought his fingers back down to your clit and rubbed circles into it, shushing you when you started to whine his name. He kissed along your jaw before grabbing your chin and turning your head to kiss your lips. “You did so good for me, baby, I’m proud of you.”

Taehyun didn’t pull out of you until you stopped shaking, helping ease you along with his fingers at your clit. Though, when he finally did it almost sent you spiraling again. He held you close to his chest and although you couldn’t see his face, you knew he was grinning widely.

“What the fuck?” A voice spoke next to you, reeling you back to reality and sending the fact that there’s others still in the room back into your mind at full force. You had completely forgotten about Taehyun’s teammates with their cocks in their hands. “Why didn’t you tell us she could do that?!”

Your eyes fluttered open and you looked over at Kai’s bewildered expression and then over to the wide eyed looks of the other boys. Their eyes nearly popped out of their skulls.

Taehyun just shrugged. He gently closed your legs and moved them to the side so you could sit more comfortably.

“I've never seen a girl squirt in person before,” Soobin murmured, looking at you stunned. You just gave him a weak smile and chuckled a bit.

You heard Yeonjun scoff and without looking at him you could practically hear him rolling his eyes at Soobin. “You’re acting like it’s some rare commodity. It’s just squirting, it’s not that hard to do.”

Without missing a beat, Beomgyu asked him, “So then why didn’t you do it?”

As the boys argued around you, Taehyun made sure that you were alright. He had gotten one of the towels he brought and wet it so he could start cleaning you up so you didn’t have to finish the celebration with dried and sticky cum all over you making things uncomfortable. His hands were delicate, asking you if anything hurt every few seconds when he got between your legs. You shook your head and gave him a big kiss for being so sweet. If anything, besides feeling a little weak, you felt amazing.

You were standing, trying to stop the boys from a naked cat fight, when Taehyun pulled you over to him to stand between his legs. He brought his lips to yours roughly, sticking his tongue in your mouth, before turning you around and pushing you down to your knees. Taehyun called Kai’s name and beckoned him over to the two of you.

Taehyun grabbed your messy hair into his fist, angling your head back a bit. “She’s all yours,” he told Kai, who visibly gulped.

You smiled up at him, licking your lips, before you grabbed onto his already throbbing and leaking cock. You used his precum, and already previous rounds, to stroke him with a firm grasp. When you got to the tip of his cock, you ran your thumb along the slit of it and Kai moaned while pushing his hips towards your hand.

Pumping Kai’s cock a little more, you brought your lips to the tip of it and circled your tongue around the fat cockhead. Slight saltiness hit your tastebuds, but you didn’t mind. In one swift motion, you took Kai’s length down your throat, bobbing your head as you sucked in your cheeks. The tension at your head from Taehyun’s tight grip on your hair made you moan, and Kai nearly toppled over from the vibrations of it.

You pulled your mouth off of him inch by inch slowly, his cock leaving your mouth with a ‘pop!’ It hit against your lips and you smiled up at Kai. 

“Her mouth is nearly as good as her pussy,” Kai breathed. His head was thrown back and his eyes were shut. You saw the way his chest rose with staggered breaths and the way his abs tightened each time you touched him. You couldn’t help but chuckle at his words, hands focusing at the base of his cock.

Flattening your tongue, you licked a stripe underneath Kai’s length from the base of it to his tip before taking him in your mouth fully again. You liked seeing him squirm.

This time you were rough and sloppy sucking his cock. You took Kai as far down your throat as you could, but Taehyun pushed your head down farther until you gagged. He would pull you back up by your hair just a little before doing the same thing over again.

Drool dripped from the corners of your mouth and down your chin, but you kept your stare up at Kai. He was too flustered to look down at you for longer than a minute. His ears were bright red and his cheeks were flushed a soft pink to match. You dug your fingers into his toned thighs and bobbed your head faster.

“Ah, my god,” Kai groaned. He brought his hands to the top of your head and his hips pushed into your face. “Your mouth feels so good, so warm.”

Each time your mouth moved up Kai’s cock, he thrusted into your mouth to bring it back down, making you gag without Taehyun’s assistance. Slowly, Kai started to fuck himself with your mouth without you having to move. His hands dug down to your scalp and he moved your head back and forth for you.

Kai hummed, brows knitted together before his hips jerked and he stopped. You gagged at the sudden movement and he squeezed his eyes shut. You felt him twitch inside your mouth and behind you Taehyun laughed at him.

“God, I hate you guys,” Kai gritted out, trying his best not to cum down your throat yet. His words just got him teased by the rest of the group.

You gagged again loudly when Kai started to fuck your throat, his strokes fast and sloppy as he pushed his cock down halfway your throat and held your head in place with his hands.

Moaning around his cock, you shifted on your knees and dug your nails in his thighs as arousal dripped down your pussy and onto the tile.

“Why are you acting like you’ve never fucked someone’s throat before?” Taehyun asked Kai incredulously. Kai didn’t answer for a moment, pure bliss and your wet mouth drowning out the words. “I-I don’t want to hurt her…” he trailed.

Taehyun laughed, “You won’t. Fuck her face harder.”

Kai didn’t hesitate, he grabbed your head and roughly brought it down his cock fully, his balls slapping against your chin and his abs tensing more at the way you gagged around him. 

Kai’s cock barely left your mouth and you did nothing but gag around his length, pussy clenching around absolutely nothing. Kai was sent into pure euphoria as he used your mouth as his own personal fleshlight, and with Taehyun’s permission he didn’t hold back.

You breathed hard through your nose all while Kai’s cock throbbed in your throat. He looked down at you, at the way you looked up at him with big, watery eyes and tears streaming down your face, at how drool dripped from the corners of your mouth and down your chin and onto your pressed together thighs, it made him completely unravel and moan like he hasn’t done since the first time he fucked you. Kai threw his head back again, sloppy thrusts quickening.

Moments later, he was holding your head down and spilling his cum down your throat. He relished in the way you choke on his cock and the pain in his thighs from your nails digging in it. “Shit,” Kai sighed, shoulders dropping in relief.

He pulled his cock out your mouth slowly, breath hitching at the way your cheeks hollowed more with every inch. You swallowed thickly, the salty taste of his cum lingering behind. Taehyun tilted your head towards him and you stuck out your tongue to show him you swallowed it all, then turned back to Kai to show him too.

“Jesus, where did you find this girl, Taehyun?” Beomgyu asked, running a hand through his hair before him and the rest of the boys came near you.

Taehyun stood to his feet, the corner of his mouth raised as he looked down at you.

They all came close to your face, their throbbing cocks in their hands and they began fisting them rawer than before above your face. You shut your eyes, tongue still hanging out of your mouth and waited patiently, mouth lifted into a smile. There was a chorus of groans and whimpers above you and it made you want to start the whole celebration over again. It made you a little sad that it was over now, and so was the basketball season.

Just as spurts of cum splattered across your face and onto your tongue, the locker room door flung open loudly and startled you all. Your eyes opened and the boys turned to the door to see who was walking in. You caught the tail end of their sentence.

“—right? Honestly, I’m just glad I don’t have to do anymore interviews until next season,” came Heeseung’s voice, the boys basketball captain. There was a big smile on his face that immediately dropped when his head turned and he looked to see what you all were doing in the locker room.

There was silence in the room for a long moment as Heeseung took in each and every one of you. The sound of the abandoned shower still running pierced your ears. You licked the cum off of your lips. “What… the actual fuck are you guys doing?!” Heeseung asked.

The boys all smiled awkwardly at him, cocks in their hands still aimed at your face. “Hey, captain…” Yeonjun drew out, his smile growing along with the awkward tension in the room.

͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏   ͏  ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏  ͏ ͏͏ REBLOGS ◜◡◝ ASKS APPRECIATED!

✉️   ⦂   me, yeonjun, and taehyun can settle this subtle fighting in bed hehehe,, sorry if the ending was a bit rushed (>w< ;) i realized that this fic was already like 10k and started to panic LMAOO… i legit blacked out while writing this, gangbangs and sixsomes hard

𖥦 ﴾ 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗎𝖾 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗈 . . . 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 , 𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ﴿ @innocygnet @vampsol @tinycatharsis @prkhaven @fangel @xylatox @whosserina @jellymochii @minaateez @lvrs-street2mmorrow @everythingvirgoes @beomieeeeeeeeeeees @sumsumtingz @riribelle @starrias @sunoosgfv @adelusionalwhore69 @byshens @bows4tyun @taebatu @writingmochi @1-800-jewon @feet4liferss @maewphoria @matchacake2 @i4tzy @hyukasningdungie @akitfffr @bingsoob @lailols @urgirls-posts @loyipampam @binzdoll @bunnysoonie @loveziehomu @yeosangslutz

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He’s only just walked into the dining room.

Morning light spills across the table and turns everything bright and expensive. White linen. Silver cutlery. Crystal glasses. Coffee already poured. Fruit cut into exact shapes. Eggs steaming on his plate. The whole thing laid out with the kind of care people mistake for love.

His father sits at the head of the table in shirtsleeves and silence. His mother butters toast with her usual calm precision, gold bracelet slipping down her wrist each time she moves the knife.

Soobin pulls out his chair.

The paper is set down beside the cup. Then his father clears his throat. “Your rankings.” That’s it. No good morning.

Soobin sits.

His father doesn’t raise his voice. He never needs to. “Would you like to explain why I keep hearing that girl’s name before I hear yours?” He doesn’t say your name.

He never does. Not here. In this house you become that girl, and somehow that makes it worse—more dismissive, more deliberate.

Soobin reaches for his water glass because his hands need somewhere to go. He doesn’t drink.

“You were second again,” his father says. 

Soobin looks down at the plate in front of him. He was hungry before he walked into the room. That version of him is gone now.

Across the table, his mother says, “Eat before it gets cold.”

He picks up the fork.

His father keeps going. “Tell me what exactly I am meant to say when people ask about my son.”

The fork presses too hard into the eggs. Yolk slips out across the plate.

His mother glances up at him. “Well?”

Soobin swallows once. His throat is already tightening. “I don’t know, sir.”

His father lets the silence sit for a moment. “No. You don’t.”

That metallic taste is back. Soobin presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek and finds the spot he worried open yesterday.

His father lifts his coffee. “Every tutor. Every resource. Every opportunity. You are handed more than most people see in a lifetime, and still you allow yourself to be outdone.”

Soobin keeps his eyes on the plate.

“Look at me,” his father says.

He does.

His father’s face is unreadable in the way that makes it worse—no anger, no temper. Just disappointment sharpened into routine. “Do you enjoy embarrassing me?”

There is no answer to that question that does not end badly. Soobin knows it. He has known it for years. If he says no, it will sound defensive. If he says sorry, it will sound weak. If he explains, it will sound like excuses.

So he says nothing.

His mother sets her knife down. “Answer your father.”

He turns to her without meaning to—some reflex still left over from childhood. Some old, stupid habit of expecting help from the wrong place.

She raises one brow. “What? He’s right. Work harder.”

The fork goes still in his hand. Work harder. He can feel his pulse in his gums now. In his jaw. In the place behind his ribs where everything has felt too tight for months. He looks back at the plate and counts.

One. Two. Three.

His father mistakes silence for defiance. Or maybe he doesn’t mistake it at all. “Do you think discipline is optional?” he asks.

“No, sir.”

“Do you think results are optional?”

“No, sir.”

“Then why do I keep seeing the same outcome?”

The fork scrapes lightly against porcelain and the sound nearly does him in. In his head, he stands up so fast the chair kicks back into the wall.

In his head, both hands go under the edge of the table and lift. Plates crack against marble. Coffee floods the linen. Crystal shatters. His mother jerks back. His father finally loses that cold expression and becomes something human enough to hit. In his head, Soobin reaches for whatever is closest—the fruit bowl, the coffee pot, his father’s watch where it lies beside the folded newspaper—and smashes it all until the room stops pretending.

He wants noise. He wants a mess big enough that no one can call him dramatic for breathing wrong. He wants to break the thing measuring him.

The chair stays where it is. The table doesn’t move.

He is still eighteen and sitting at breakfast with his fork in his hand and his back straight because slouching would get noticed before the panic would.

His mother picks up her coffee. “You’ve been distracted.”

“I haven’t,” he says quietly. It slips out before he can stop it. 

The room goes still.

His father tilts his head. “No?”

Soobin lowers his eyes again. “No, sir.”

His father studies him for a moment too long. “Then perhaps you simply do not have it.”

Soobin grips the fork harder.

His father watches his hand. “If pressure unsettles you this easily, say so now.”

The fork slips against the plate, and his pulse jumps.

His father holds his gaze for a beat. Then he leans back. “I’m talking about winning.”

Winning drags years behind it. Coaches. Tutors. Report cards. Timers. Raised a winner. Raised properly. Raised not to flinch. 

The metallic taste gets thicker. Soobin bites down harder, his fingers twitch once in his lap.

His mother says, “Eat.”

He can’t. He picks up the fork again anyway and cuts into the eggs a second time. Takes a bite. Chews. Swallows. His throat fights him the whole way down.

His father watches until he does. Then, calm as ever, “Do better.”

That’s all. No slammed fist. No shouting fit. Nothing a stranger could point to and call cruel. Just those two words, laid down between the coffee and the silver like they are part of the place setting and not a life sentence. 

His mother resumes her breakfast. His father reaches for the newspaper. Conversation over.

Soobin sits there with food turning to paste in his mouth and blood at the back of his tongue.

The car ride doesn’t get any better. His father just changes the angle of attack. The breakfast plates are gone. The hotel is getting closer. None of it helps.

His father has the gala programme open across one knee—thick cream card with a gold crest at the top. He smooths it flat with two fingers and says, “Read it.”

Soobin doesn’t take it. “I know what it says, sir.”

“Then you know what tonight is.”

His mother checks her lipstick in the dark window and clicks the compact shut. “Must we start again?”

His father doesn’t look at her. “He clearly needs repetition.”

The car glides through traffic. Soobin keeps his eyes on the passing buildings and tries not to look at the programme, which only makes his father angle it more obviously into view.

Welcome remarks. Dinner service. Foundation address. Representative Speech. Your name.

His father says, “People will remember that.”

Soobin’s jaw shifts once. He says nothing.

His father folds the card in half. “They will remember that a Choi boy sat in the audience while somebody else represented the school.”

His mother says, “That’s enough.”

“No,” his father says. “It plainly isn’t.”

Soobin keeps both hands flat on his thighs. One of them twitches anyway.

“That should have been your slot.”

“Yes, sir.”

“That should have been our name.”

The driver slows as the hotel comes into view.

The hotel comes into view behind the windshield—glass frontage, valets in black, a slow-moving row of cars letting out polished families in silk, cufflinks, and practiced smiles. Near the doors, the school crest gleams in gold across a standing board.

HANUL FOUNDATION GALA

The driver pulls under the portico and the car goes quiet for one brief second. Relief gets there first. Then dread.

Relief, because the car has stopped. Dread, because outside the car is the gala, and the gala means you.

His father closes the programme and slips it into his jacket. “Don’t embarrass me further.”

His mother touches his sleeve. “Let’s just get through the evening.”

The driver is already out opening the door. His father steps out first. His mother follows, her hand wrapping around his arm before her heels have fully found the ground. They are backlit by the hotel entrance, already becoming presentable.

They walk off together.

They leave him in the back seat for half a second longer than necessary.

Soobin gets out after them and shuts the door more carefully than he wants to. The collar of his shirt feels wrong—too close, too stiff. He hooks a finger under it once, then drops his hand before anyone sees.

Inside, the gala looks exactly how Hanul likes to imagine itself.

Crystal chandeliers. Cream flowers. White tablecloths. Waiters moving through the room with champagne trays held level at shoulder height. Somewhere off to the left, a quartet is playing something expensive. The whole place smells of lilies, cologne, and money trying to look graceful.

Adults drift from one cluster to another in formalwear and good manners, smiling at people they hate and shaking hands with people they need. Parents speak in lowered voices about universities, foundations, donation tiers, internships, ministers, markets. Students hover half a step behind, summoned when needed, forgotten when not.

This is the real curriculum—not exams, not attendance, not the ranking board in the corridor. This. The room full of people who decide what matters before anyone younger is even asked.

A large screen near the ballroom doors cycles through donor tiers beneath the foundation crest. Legacy Circle. Diamond Patrons. Platinum Benefactors. Surnames Soobin knows. Families who fund buildings, endow scholarships, call the headmaster by his first name. The school is thanking people who already own it.

A staff member offers him champagne. He takes a glass because refusing would invite questions. He doesn’t drink it. He can feel the taste of metal creeping back onto his tongue. He presses his molars together and lets it sit there.

Then he sees you.

The room doesn’t quiet. It just stops mattering.

You’re standing near one of the trustees, smiling politely at something he’s saying. You don’t laugh too hard, or lean in too much—just enough. You are dressed impeccably. Of course you are. You’ve always been good at screaming elegance without raising your voice. You look composed—finished, like the room was designed with you already in mind.

Soobin becomes aware of himself in stages. The collar at his throat. The set of his shoulders. The way his hand is closing too hard around the stem of the glass.

He loosens his grip before it snaps.

He hates this. The way seeing you turns his own body into a problem he suddenly has to manage. The way he can feel every inch of himself become stiff and overaware, like somebody might look at him and immediately know he’s trying.

He hates that you make him notice it.

His history with you is old enough to have gone numb by now. It hasn’t.

He can’t remember a time before you. Not really. You’ve always been somewhere in the frame. Same circles. Same teachers. Same polished adults saying both your names in the same breath and pretending it counted as fairness.

Karate first.

Same dojo. Same mats. Same afternoons bowing until his back ached. You got your black belt first. He remembers the congratulations. He remembers the applause. He remembers his father’s face most of all.

Piano after that.

Same competitions. Same judges. Same freezing recital halls. You took the trophy home. He stood beside you with second place and managed not to look sick in the photos.

Then Hanul.

Three years of ranking boards and report sheets and staff pretending academic pressure builds character. Three years of your name above his.

That’s the part that gets under his skin. Not that you win—that you never look like you’re clawing for it. He is all effort. You are just there, ahead.

His jaw goes tight. He bites the inside of his cheek until it stings, hard enough for the taste of blood to come back sharp and familiar.

Second.

The word has lodged itself in him somewhere ugly. It doesn’t wash out.

An arm hooks around his neck and yanks him half a step sideways. “Yo, bro.” 

Choi Beomgyu. He’s grinning, his voice loud enough to count as inappropriate in a room like this. His tie is slightly off, his hair too deliberately careless, and he smells of expensive cologne and poor sleep. 

“Thank God,” he says. “Thought I was going to die of donor small talk.”

Soobin’s first instinct is to shrug him off. His second is gratitude. The second one wins. “Let go.”

“No.” Beomgyu tightens his arm once, purely out of spite. “You’re coming with me. Another five minutes and I was going to fake a medical emergency.”

“So dramatic.”

“Look who’s talking.”

Beomgyu follows his line of sight and spots you immediately. His grin sharpens. “Ah.”

Soobin shifts, trying to get free without making it look like he’s getting free. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet I’m saving your life.”

Beomgyu starts steering him through the room. Soobin resists on instinct, shoes dragging over the carpet for half a step before he stops—resisting looks worse. There are too many eyes. Teachers, parents, board members, other students pretending not to watch, staff who remember everything. 

Optics at Hanul count for more than honesty ever does.

Beomgyu keeps tugging him forward, still talking. “My mother has introduced me to seven people I’ll be expected to remember for the rest of my life. One of them pinched my cheek.”

“That sounds like a you problem.”

“It became a you problem the second I decided I wasn’t suffering alone.”

He’s pulling him toward the Apex table. The closer they get to it, the more obvious the room becomes about it.

Not loud—Hanul is rarely loud when envy will do. It travels in lowered voices, in glances that linger a beat too long, in the quick little silences that follow whenever one of them passes. The other students know exactly what that table means.

Best grades. Best surnames. Best futures, already gift-wrapped. Their family names arrive before they do. That’s half the point.

The table sits near the front of the ballroom—too close to the principal, too close to the donors, close enough that every sweep of a camera catches the right faces. 

Apex is a crown the school insists is earned.

The twins are already there. Daniel slouched just enough to look disrespectful without anyone actually being able to accuse him of it. Stephanie upright, immaculate, one hand around a champagne flute, gaze moving over the room.

Beomgyu drops into his chair and gestures grandly at the empty seat beside him. “Your throne.”

Soobin sits and barely has time to exhale. 

You approach the table and the entire room seems to tilt around you, or maybe that’s just his body deciding to act up again.

Kai is with you, half a step behind and trying very hard not to look like a first-year standing at the table meant for people the school already considers profitable. He has your mouth and none of your control. His tie is perfect, his expression isn’t.

You stop at your chair, glance at Soobin once, and take your seat.

One glance does enough damage. The usual look from you that says you’ve assessed him, found him disappointing, and moved on before he’s even had time to resent it properly.

He hates how fast his skin notices. The collar. The cuffs. The way his shoulders seem too square all of a sudden, as if posture can become self-conscious.

Kai pulls his chair out beside you. “Noona, shall I—”

“No,” you say, without even looking at him. “Sit.”

Kai sits.

Beomgyu, sensing danger with the skill of long practice, smiles too brightly. “Beautiful. Everyone’s here. Let’s all behave like the nation is watching.”

Daniel lifts his glass. “It probably is.”

Soobin reaches for the water beside his plate.

“You found the table,” you say before he can drink. “I was starting to think the signs were too difficult.” Your tone is light enough for the adults nearby to ignore. 

That’s the trick with you—you never sound cruel unless someone knows where to listen.

Soobin sets the glass down. “Did you miss me?”

“No,” you say. “I was wondering whether second place had started arriving late too.”

His fingers tighten around the glass before he remembers where he is.

Beomgyu sighs. “Please don’t. Some of us haven’t eaten enough to survive this.”

Soobin looks at you. “You rehearsed that?”

“Didn’t need to.”

“Right. Cruelty just comes naturally.”

You fold your napkin onto your lap. “Only when the material is easy.”

Kai mutters, “Noona.”

Before Soobin can answer, Kim Inha arrives.

She comes in late enough for people to notice and composed enough to pretend they shouldn’t. Hair perfect, dress perfect, smile already in place before she reaches the table. She does not look for her name card and slips into the empty chair beside Soobin—she has already decided that proximity is a statement.

“Sorry,” she says. “My mother kept introducing me to people I’m supposed to care about.”

Daniel says, “Devastating. Did you survive?”

“Barely.” Her smile stays on. Her eyes move from Soobin to you. “Did I miss something?”

Beomgyu lifts his glass. “Only the opening ceremony of whatever this is.”

You don’t look at Inha for long. “Nothing important.”

Inha’s smile tightens. “Still charming, I see.”

“Still arriving halfway through conversations, I see.”

Beomgyu leans towards Soobin. “I hate it when everyone’s insults turn into a talent showcase.”

Inha ignores him. She turns slightly towards Soobin, her shoulder almost touching his. “You okay?”

Soobin’s fingers pause around his glass.  “I’m fine,” he says.

Inha smiles brighter. “I know. I’m just saying she doesn’t have to turn everything into a contest.”

You look at her properly then. “This is the Apex table.”

“So?”

“So the entire school turned us into a contest before I sat down.”

Stephanie murmurs, “Fair point.”

Inha’s gaze flicks to her. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“You rarely do,” you say.

Kai shifts in his seat. “Noona.”

“What?”

He lowers his voice. “Can you not?”

You look at him, and for half a second something in your face changes—small and almost private. Then it’s gone.

Beomgyu immediately reaches for the centrepiece. “Can we discuss why this flower arrangement looks fancier than my future?”

Daniel answers at once. “Because it is.”

Stephanie nods. “Definitely.”

Kai exhales through his nose, grateful. Soobin notices you watching your brother for another second before you look away. 

Inha, unfortunately, is not done. “I’m only saying,” she continues, “some people know how to be excellent without making everyone else feel small.”

You sit back. “Are you talking about me?”

Inha widens her eyes. “Did it sound familiar?”

Soobin sets his glass down with a little too much force. Water jumps against the rim.

Inha turns to him at once. “I’m not wrong.”

“I didn’t ask you to be right.”

Her smile falters for the first time.

You look between them, then settle back into your chair. “Don’t stop on my account. I’m enjoying the teamwork.”

Soobin’s eyes cut to you. That’s the problem—Inha beside him makes it look like it’s two against one. Worse: it makes him look unable to stand across from you alone. “I don’t need teamwork,” he says.

You tilt your head.  “Then tell her.”

Inha gives a small laugh, sharp at the edges. “Why are you acting like I’m the problem?”

You answer before Soobin can. “Because you sat down and made yourself one.”

Kai’s mouth parts. Daniel looks delighted despite himself.

Stephanie says, very quietly, “Burn.”

Inha straightens. “You think you can speak to everyone however you want just because you have better grades?”

You don’t blink. “And you think sitting next to Choi Soobin makes your opinion heavier.”

Soobin’s fingers curl under the tablecloth, out of sight. He wants to tell you to shut up. He wants to tell Inha to move. He wants this table to stop looking at him like he is the prize in a fight he didn’t enter.

The principal’s voice comes through the microphone before Inha can answer. “Good evening, distinguished guests—”

Every chair in the room seems to adjust at once. Conversations drop. Waiters stop moving. The ballroom becomes obedient.

Beomgyu leans back and mutters, “Saved by institutional theatre.”

Daniel whispers, “For now.”

The stage fills with adults who know how to congratulate themselves without sounding too pleased. Soobin tries to listen and fails.

Across the hall, his father is watching him. His mother sits beside him with her hands folded, expression smooth, eyes forward. His father does not bother pretending. The stare is direct enough to make the back of Soobin’s neck heat.

Soobin looks away first.

By the time the principal returns to the microphone, the knot in his throat has come back.

“And now,” the principal says, smiling towards the front tables, “we are honoured to hear from this year’s student representative. A student whose discipline, consistency, and excellence have set the standard for her cohort.”

Programs rustle and heads turn.

At the Apex table, Beomgyu stops smiling. Stephanie’s gaze moves, briefly, to Soobin. Kai sits up straighter.

You rise.

The applause starts at once.

Before you step away from the table, you look at Soobin. Then your gaze drops to the programme beside his plate. Representative Speech. When you look back at him, the applause has grown louder.

He understands the look perfectly.

You know.

You know what this is. You know what his father wanted. You know what it means that you are walking to that stage and he is sitting here clapping for you.

His hands come together because they have to. Once. Twice. The sound makes his stomach turn.

He stops.

On stage, you take your place at the podium. You adjust the microphone, glance once at the pages in your hand, and begin.

Your voice carries cleanly across the room. Soobin misses the first sentence. Then the second.

His father’s stare keeps touching the back of his neck between your words. Every pause gives it room. Every round of attentive silence makes it worse.

He reaches up and loosens his tie by half an inch. Nothing changes. The collar still cuts too close. The knot in his throat stays exactly where it is.

Beomgyu’s house makes wealth look bored.

That is the first thing Soobin thinks when he steps out of the car and sees the place lit from the inside, all glass and stone and quiet arrogance. The gates aren’t loud enough to announce importance. There is no ridiculous fountain in the drive. Nothing desperate. Just a long, severe house sitting above its own lawns, pretending it has never needed to impress anyone.

His father pauses beside him to button his jacket. “Stand straight.”

Soobin does.

His mother reaches over and fixes the edge of his collar with two fingers. “And don’t look like that.”

He doesn’t ask what like that means. He already knows—too tired, too angry, too much like himself.

Inside, Beomgyu’s mother greets them at the entrance with a smile that has probably survived worse men than Soobin’s father. Choi Yuna, Chairwoman of the Board of Hanul Global Academy, stands in a cream dress with pearls at her throat and power in the room before anyone announces her name. “Assemblyman Choi,” she says warmly, taking his father’s hand. “It’s been too long.”

“Chairwoman.” His father bows with the exact amount of respect required, not a degree more. “Congratulations on another successful gala.”

“Please,” she says, laughing softly. “The children do all the work. We simply clap and write cheques.”

Everyone smiles.

Soobin looks past her shoulder and sees the dining room already full.

All the right families. All the right faces. The Lees with their polite Americanised ease. Kim Inha’s parents, both expensive and clinical in the way people become when hospitals are a family business. Your parents near the far end of the room, your father mid-conversation with one of the trustees, your mother listening with a faint smile that gives nothing away.

And you.

You’re standing beside Kai, adjusting the cuff of his sleeve while he looks embarrassed enough to die from it. He says something under his breath. You don’t smile, but your hand lingers for half a second before dropping away.

Then you look up and see Soobin. Nothing changes on your face.

“Soobin-ah.” Beomgyu appears from nowhere and lands a hand on his shoulder. 

“You made it,” Beomgyu says. “I was starting to think you’d escaped.”

“So was I.”

“Rude. I would’ve helped.”

“Soobin,” his mother says behind him.

Beomgyu’s grin flickers—not enough for the adults to notice, enough for Soobin to understand. “Come on,” Beomgyu says, squeezing his shoulder once. “Before my mother starts assigning us all futures again.”

They are not allowed to sit with the other students during dinner. That would be too merciful.

Instead, the table has been arranged so that each child sits close enough to their parents to be displayed, corrected, and quietly used as evidence. Soobin ends up between his mother and Beomgyu, with his father across from him and two seats down. You sit opposite, near your mother, Kai beside you looking like he’d rather be anywhere else.

The first course arrives before anyone says anything real. That is how dinners like this work. Food first. Threats after.

At the head of the table, Beomgyu’s mother lifts her glass. “To Hanul,” she says. “To our students. And to the families who continue to believe excellence is something worth cultivating.”

Glasses rise.

Soobin lifts his because everyone else does. The crystal catches the light. His own face distorts in the rim.

“Excellence,” your father says, smiling. “That word gets thrown around so much these days. It’s good to see Hanul still understands the difference between excellence and publicity.”

The trustee beside him laughs. “You would know. Your company has been everywhere lately.”

“Only where it matters.”

A few people chuckle.

Soobin’s father smiles too, but his hand tightens around the stem of his glass.

Your family doesn’t brag the way insecure people brag. Nobody at this table would be stupid enough to sound eager. Your father mentions expansions. Overseas partnerships. New logistics contracts.

He never says look how powerful we are. He doesn’t need to.

Soobin cuts into his food and feels his father’s mood darken across the table.

“You’re expanding into Europe?” Mr Lee asks.

Your father waves a hand. “Quietly.”

“Quietly,” Daniel mutters under his breath from farther down the table. Stephanie elbows him without looking.

Beomgyu hides a smile in his water glass.

Your mother turns to Soobin’s father. “And your campaign?”

His father sets his knife down. “Stable.”

“Stable is good,” your father says. “In politics, stability is underrated.”

The words are harmless—the tone isn’t.

Soobin stares at his plate.

He can already see how this evening ends. His father silent in the car. His mother looking out the window. The house waiting at the other end of it, clean and cold and full of things his father can say once there are no witnesses.

Across from him, Kai reaches for the salt. His sleeve brushes your glass and makes it wobble.

Your hand catches it before it spills.

Kai freezes. “Sorry.”

“Careful,” you say. Your tone isn’t sharp, nor loud.

Kai still lowers his hand like he’s been burned.

Soobin notices. Then he wishes he hadn’t—there is too much to notice in this room, too many small violences pretending to be manners.

Inha leans forward from her seat, smile bright. “The speech was beautiful, by the way.”

Your eyes move to her. “Thank you.”

“No, really,” Inha says, placing a hand lightly over her chest. “So composed. I would’ve been nervous with that many people watching.”

“You get used to it.”

Inha’s smile holds. “Must be nice.”

“It is.”

Beomgyu coughs into his napkin. Soobin keeps eating.

Your gaze flicks to him. “Did you enjoy it?”

His fork pauses.

His mother turns slightly towards him. His father’s eyes lift from across the table.

Soobin places the fork down carefully. “It was appropriate.”

Beomgyu makes a wounded sound. “Appropriate. Wow. Somebody embroider that on a pillow.”

His mother looks at him. “Beomgyu.”

“What? It’s praise. In Soobin language.”

A few people laugh, lightly enough to keep dinner intact. You look back down at your plate, the corner of your mouth moving just once. Soobin hates that too.

After dinner, the house divides itself the way houses like this always do.

The men disappear first, drawn towards a private room where the air will turn thick with cigar smoke and policy talk. They clap one another on the shoulder and discuss the country like it belongs to them because, in many ways, it does.

His father pauses before leaving. One hand lands at the back of Soobin’s chair.

Soobin’s spine goes rigid.

“Behave,” his father says.

“Yes, sir.”

The hand leaves.

The women gather near the sitting room with coffee, fruit, and expressions too pleasant to be trusted. The conversation shifts to university consultants, summer programmes, interview coaching, rumours about a professor taking private calls from certain families. One of them mentions a student who dropped six ranks after changing tutors. Another calls it unfortunate.

Nobody sounds sorry.

Beomgyu’s mother turns towards them and smiles. “Children, go entertain yourselves. The adults will be very boring for a while.”

Daniel rises first. “Finally. Honesty.” His mother gives him a look. He smiles. “Grateful honesty.”

Stephanie takes her glass and follows him. Inha stands quickly, glancing at Soobin before she smooths the front of her dress. Kai waits for you to move first. You don’t—you watch the adults for one extra second, then push your chair back.

The game room sits at the far end of the house, away from the formal rooms, which means it is where Beomgyu has hidden every sign of personality his mother hasn’t managed to remove.

There is a pool table under a low black lamp. A wall of records. A ridiculous arcade machine glowing blue in the corner. Shelves full of art books, most of them shoved between trophies Beomgyu definitely didn’t win willingly. There is a half-finished sketchbook on the sofa. 

Beomgyu sees Soobin notice it and flips it shut on his way past. “Do not perceive me,” he says.

Daniel drops into an armchair. “Too late.”

Stephanie stands near the record player, scanning the spines. “Your house is depressing.”

“It has seven bathrooms.”

“That doesn’t contradict me.”

Beomgyu reaches for the pool cues mounted on the wall. “Soobin. Play me before I start climbing the curtains.”

Soobin takes the cue he offers. The polished wood feels good in his hand. Solid and simple—something with a purpose.

Inha drifts towards him. “You’re good at pool, right?”

“No,” Beomgyu says before Soobin can answer. “He’s annoying at pool. Different thing.”

Soobin chalks the tip of his cue. “You lose a lot for someone with opinions.”

“I lose with charm.”

“You lose loudly.”

“Again. Charm.”

Daniel leans back in his chair and looks between them. “September exams are going to be fun.”

The room shifts, not by much—just enough.

Stephanie pulls a record halfway from its sleeve. “Fun isn’t the word I’d use.”

“The one that matters,” Daniel says. “Everything before that is rehearsal.”

Beomgyu lines up the balls with unnecessary focus. “Can we not dirty the sacred pool table with academic trauma?”

“September decides university recommendations,” Stephanie says, sliding the record back. “Scholarship nominations. Counsellor interviews. Overseas tracks.”

Daniel lifts his drink. “The real divider.”

Soobin grips the cue.

Across the room, you have taken a seat on the arm of the sofa, one leg crossed over the other, watching the table. Kai stands near the arcade machine with both hands in his pockets, not playing, not speaking. Inha sits close to where Soobin is standing.

You look at Soobin. “Congratulations.” The word is light enough to float.

He knows better.

Beomgyu closes his eyes. “Please don’t.”

“That’ll mark three years of being second place. Consistency is a talent.”

The cue shifts in Soobin’s hand.

The Lees make identical little sounds, quiet and delighted. Beomgyu opens his eyes with exhaustion.

Soobin looks at you over the table. “At least I’m consistent,” he says. “I’d hate to peak early.”

Your mouth curves. “That implies you’re peaking at all.”

Inha laughs at once, too bright. “You’re actually insane.” She says it to you, but she angles her body towards Soobin when she does. Allegiance arranged neatly in the space between them.

Soobin bends over the table. He breaks. The cue ball cracks into the triangle. The sound cuts clean through the room. Balls scatter across the felt, fast and violent, colour splitting in every direction.

For half a second, it feels good. Power, or something close enough to lie about.

Beomgyu whistles. “Okay. He’s choosing violence.”

One ball drops into a corner pocket. Soobin straightens.

You watch the table, not him. Somehow that is worse—like he is not even the spectacle, like his anger is part of the game furniture.

He moves around the felt and lines up the next shot. Easy angle, should be nothing. The cue strikes. The ball clips the edge of the pocket and rolls away.

A miss by a fraction.

His teeth come together.

You tilt your head. “You should try aiming where it matters.”

Soobin looks at you. “You talk like rankings are a moral achievement.”

You lift your brows. “No. I talk like rankings are facts.”

He smiles. It feels wrong on his face. “Facts can be managed.”

“Then manage yours.” You say it while reaching for a cue from the wall, your fingers close around it without urgency—winning always seems to sit beside you waiting to be picked up.

Heat crawls up the back of his neck. He tells himself it is the lamp above the table. The wine at dinner. The room. Anything other than you.

Beomgyu steps between you enough to pretend he isn’t stepping between you. “Right. New rule. Every time one of you says rankings, I get to leave the country.”

Stephanie finally chooses a record and lets it spin without dropping the needle. “You’d be gone by sunrise.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

You chalk your cue with one smooth twist. “My turn?”

Soobin gestures at the table. “Go ahead.”

You stand, and Inha’s posture changes immediately.

You lean over the table. The room light catches on the side of your face, the line of your shoulder, the small concentration settling around your eyes. 

The shot is narrow. Not impossible, but narrow enough that Beomgyu stops making jokes for once. You hit. The ball runs straight, kisses another, and drops into the side pocket, clean.

Daniel says, “Rude.”

Stephanie nods. “Very.”

Kai’s mouth lifts for half a second before he remembers not to show it. 

You circle the table, cue resting lightly against your fingers. “September really is the one that matters, isn’t it?”

Daniel leans forward. “Yes.”

Beomgyu points his cue at the twins. “Do not encourage this. Any of this.”

You stop at the end of the table and look at Soobin. “Want to make it interesting?”

Soobin keeps his eyes on you. “What?”

“Let’s make a bet,” you say.

The arcade machine hums in the corner. The record waits silently on the turntable. Somewhere far down the hall, an adult laughs too loudly, then a door shuts and cuts the sound away.

You rest the cue against your shoulder. “For September.”

Soobin says nothing. He refuses to look eager and can feel himself failing.

You smile, polite and pretty and cruel enough to belong in this house. “If you rank first, I’ll leave Apex.”

The room stills. Even Daniel stops smiling for a second.

Apex is not a club—clubs are allowed to be pointless. Apex is the direct line to every door Hanul pretends hard work opens by itself.

You don’t offer it lightly—which means you know exactly what it costs.

Inha’s mouth parts. “You can’t just—”

You continue before she finishes. Your eyes flick to Kai, quick and sharp. “Then Apex can go back to being five, like it was always meant to be,” you say softly. “The world will remain fair.”

Kai looks down at his hands. It is too small, maybe, for anyone else to care about. His shoulders pull in. His fingers curl once against his palm. He looks younger than he did five seconds ago.

Daniel looks at you with open interest. “You’d actually step down?”

“If he makes it to first place, yeah.”

The if lands cleanly. Soobin feels it under his skin.

Inha stands from the edge of the sofa. “Soobin doesn’t need you to—”

“And if I don’t?” Soobin asks. 

He doesn’t look at Inha—not even a glance. Her sentence dies in her throat.

You lean back against the pool table, cue angled against your shoulder. “Oh, I’m not going to ask you to step down from Apex.”

“How generous.”

“I wouldn’t want Mr Choi to have a heart attack and retire before his next campaign.” Sweet voice, dirty hit.

Soobin smiles because the alternative is worse. 

You watch him hold it. Then you deliver the punishment. “If you don’t place first in September,” you say, “you’re going to stand up at assembly and say I deserved first place.” You let the words settle. “Say it clearly,” you add. “No jokes. No sarcasm. Like you mean it.”

There is a difference between humiliation and record. Humiliation passes through a room and becomes gossip. Record stays.

Assembly means microphones. First-years. Student council members. Teachers. Soobin at the podium, wearing the Council President badge they gave him because he looks good representing discipline, telling the whole school what his father has been hearing in every silence for three years.

You deserved first place.

Inha laughs once. “No. That’s ridiculous.”

Beomgyu rubs both hands over his face. “This is how people end up in documentaries.”

Stephanie has already pulled out her phone.

Beomgyu points at her. “Do not record this.”

“I’m not recording.”

“You’re literally holding your phone.”

“Soobin,” Inha says, stepping closer. “Don’t. You don’t have to entertain this.”

He finally looks at her. “I know.”

Her expression shifts. Embarrassment first. Then hurt. Then anger tucked quickly behind concern.

He turns back to you. Something inside him is already moving. Ugly, hungry, awake. Take this. Win this. Take one thing from you and make the room watch.

You are still looking at him like you have already pictured him losing and found the image acceptable.

Soobin’s mouth smiles, his eyes don’t. “Deal.”

Beomgyu drops his hands. “Brilliant. Fantastic. Nobody listens to me ever.”

Stephanie taps something on her phone. “Noted.”

Inha says his name, low and warning. He ignores it.

Kai stays quiet near the arcade machine. His gaze is on you now, searching your face for something Soobin can’t name. You look at your brother once, fast enough that anyone else could miss it.

Then you turn back to the table. You line up your shot. The cue moves. The ball drops. You sink another ball like nothing happened.

The car ride home has no sound except the indicator clicking. Left. Right. Left.

Soobin sits in the back with his hands folded in his lap and watches the city move across the window in strips of gold and black. His mother sits beside his father, spine straight, eyes fixed ahead. His father has not spoken since they left Beomgyu’s house.

This is worse than shouting.

Shouting has shape—a beginning and an end. Silence fills the car and presses into every corner until Soobin can feel it against the backs of his teeth.

Soobin keeps his eyes on the road.

The driver turns into their neighbourhood. The houses grow larger, quieter, more severe. Each one set back from the street behind gates and trimmed trees, every window lit with private money.

His father finally moves. His hand settles over the folded gala programme on his knee.

Soobin’s throat tightens.

His mother exhales softly through her nose. “Not in the car.”

His father does not look at her.

The indicator clicks again. Left. Right. Left.

The driver pulls through the gates. The tyres whisper over the stone drive. The house waits ahead, lit and immaculate, every window glowing with the calm of a place that has never had to apologise for what happens inside it.

The car stops. No one gets out for a second. Then his father opens the door.

Soobin follows.

The night air hits his face cold enough to wake something in him, but not enough to save him. He closes the car door carefully. The sound is soft, expensive, obedient.

His mother steps onto the drive and adjusts her coat. His father walks past her. “Go upstairs.”

She looks at him then, just once. Soobin catches it—the pause, the calculation. Then she turns towards the entrance. “Yes,” she says quietly.

The front door opens before they reach it. Staff bow. His father hands off his coat without looking at anyone. Soobin removes his shoes, places them neatly beside the others, and follows because he has been following all his life.

The hallway is too bright. Marble underfoot. Paintings on the walls. Flowers in a vase taller than a child. Somewhere deeper in the house, a clock chimes once.

His father stops outside the study. For half a second, Soobin thinks that is where they are going. Then his father turns left.

His stomach drops.

His father reaches the narrow door at the end of the corridor and presses his thumb to the scanner. A small light flashes green. The lock releases with a click that makes Soobin’s hands go cold.

“Inside.”

Soobin steps in.

The room has no windows.

It is not large—it doesn’t need to be. A desk sits in the centre under a hard white lamp. One chair. One clock mounted on the wall. Shelves along one side, lined with textbooks, exam papers, binders labelled by subject and year. The walls are padded behind pale wood panels, soundproofed with the same care another father might put into a music room.

His father calls it education. When Soobin was younger, he tried to call it punishment once.

The door shuts behind them. The house disappears—no hallway, no staff, no mother pretending she cannot hear what the room was built to swallow.

His father removes his watch and sets it on the edge of the desk. Then his cufflinks. Each movement is measured. 

Soobin stands beside the chair.

His father opens a drawer and takes out a single sheet of paper. He places it on the desk, perfectly centred, then lays a pen beside it. “Sit.”

Soobin sits.

The chair is a little too low. It always has been. The desk edge cuts across the wrong part of his ribs. He places his hands on either side of the paper and looks down. 

A maths problem.

Not difficult enough to be impossible, not easy enough to forgive failure. The kind of question designed to prove whether his mind can still function while fear climbs up his spine.

His father walks behind him. The soles of his shoes move over the floor with soft, deliberate steps. “You had time to have fun tonight.”

Soobin looks at the page. Numbers. Variables. A diagram in the corner. He reads the first line and loses it before reaching the second.

His father stops behind his right shoulder. “You had time to play around.”

The pen feels slick between his fingers.

“Ten minutes.”

The clock on the wall begins. Tick. Soobin stares at the question. Tick.

The first step should be obvious. He knows that somewhere in his head, the answer exists. He has solved problems like this before—harder ones, longer ones, whole mock papers under worse conditions. His tutor would say identify the structure. His teacher would say isolate the unknown. His father would say win.

Tick.

He writes the first equation. It looks wrong.

His father starts pacing again. “Your grandfather built his name from nothing,” he says, moving behind the chair. “I protected it. Expanded it. Made it useful.”

Tick.

Soobin crosses out the line.

His father’s steps slow at the left side of the desk. “Do you understand what a family name is?”

Soobin’s mouth is dry. “Yes, sir.” The answer comes too quietly.

His father continues walking. “No. You understand comfort. You understand the house. The cars. The money. You understand receiving.”

Tick.

Soobin writes another line. The pen scratches too loudly.

“You do not understand carrying.”

The numbers blur for a second. He blinks hard until they sharpen. 

Tick.

His father reaches the front of the desk and looks down at the paper. Soobin stops breathing without meaning to.

“That is already wrong.”

His hand freezes.

His father leans down, one palm against the desk, close enough that Soobin can smell cigar smoke threaded through his cologne. “Again.”

Soobin crosses it out. The page is starting to look dirty. He starts from the beginning.

Tick.

The diagram. The equation. The condition in the final sentence. There is something in the wording—there has to be. He reads it once. Twice. The words slide away from him and leave nothing useful behind.

His father straightens. “Three years,” he says. “Three years at Hanul, and you still let that girl stand above you.”

The pen tip digs into the paper.

“Today she stood at the podium while you clapped.”

Soobin’s jaw locks. The room tilts slightly, enough for his body to notice. 

Tick.

His father’s hand comes down on the desk—a flat crack of palm against wood.

Soobin flinches anyway. The pen slips from his fingers and rolls towards the edge. He catches it before it falls.

His father watches that too. “Five minutes.”

The clock keeps ticking. Soobin tries to force the answer open.

He writes too fast. The second line doesn’t follow from the first. He knows it the moment it lands on paper, but panic makes him continue anyway. If he stops, there will be nothing. If there is nothing, there is no defence. If there is no defence—

Tick.

His father moves behind him again. “Discipline is not talent,” he says. “Discipline is what remains when talent humiliates you.”

Soobin’s hand starts to shake. He presses the side of his palm to the page, hoping the desk will hold it still. Ink smears under his skin.

“Do you think winners are allowed fear?”

Soobin does not answer.

“Do you think men who lead families are allowed embarrassment?” His father’s steps stop right behind him. “Soobin.”

His name in that voice hollows him out.

He looks at the page and sees nothing. Not the problem or the lines he has written, just black ink, crossed out and repeated, evidence piling up against him.

“Answer me.”

“No, sir.”

“No what?”

His chest feels too small. “No, sir. They’re not.”

His father resumes pacing. “Correct. And yet here you are.”

Tick. 

Two minutes. The clock becomes the whole room. 

Tick.

He tries to remember the formula. One part of his mind reaches for it. Another keeps seeing the podium—your hand on the microphone, the programme beside his plate, his father’s stare from across the hall. 

He grips the pen so hard the plastic bends.

Tick. 

One minute.

His breathing turns shallow. He writes something—anything. A rearranged version of the first equation. A line that looks almost respectable until he reaches the end and sees that it cannot work.

His father sees it too. Soobin can feel him seeing it.

Tick. 

Thirty seconds. His pulse beats in his throat. 

Tick.

Ten. Nine. Eight. His hand moves uselessly over the page.

Seven. There has to be a step.

Six. There is always a step.

Five. Find it.

Four. Find it.

Three. Two. 

Tick. The clock cuts off with a sharp electronic beep. 

Soobin still has no answer.  The silence after is worse than the ticking.

His father walks to the desk and picks up the paper. He reads it. The page lowers.

Soobin keeps his eyes on the desk.

His father’s voice is quiet. “Stand up.”

Soobin stands. The chair legs scrape against the floor, too loud in the sealed room.

His father folds the paper once and sets it beside the watch. “You cannot solve a single problem under pressure.”

Soobin’s hands curl at his sides.

“You cannot defend your rank.” His father reaches for his belt. “You cannot protect the family name.” The leather slides through the loops with a soft, clean sound.

Soobin’s whole body goes cold. His father wraps the belt once around his hand, the buckle hanging loose. Metal catches under the white light.

Then his father steps closer.

Soobin’s voice tears out of him before the belt can rise. “I’ll place first.” The words hit the room too fast. 

His father pauses.

Soobin breathes once, ragged. “I’ll rank first in September. I’ll do it. I’ll do whatever you want. Extra tutors, mock papers, no sleep, no phone, anything. I won’t embarrass you again.”

His father watches him.

Soobin hates how much of himself is in the sentence—the pleading, bare and ugly. He forces himself to keep going anyway. “I’ll beat her.”

The belt hangs from his father’s hand. The clock on the wall shows ten minutes and zero seconds. His father steps closer until Soobin has to lift his chin to keep looking at him. 

“You will not say that word unless you intend to make it true.”

“I do.”

His father studies his face, searching for weakness, or maybe enjoying the sight of fear in it. Then he lowers the belt. “You have made vows before.”

Soobin’s throat works. “This one is different.”

His father’s mouth moves, almost a smile. There is no warmth in it. “It had better be.”

He turns and threads the belt back through the loops with the same careful patience he used to remove it. The buckle clicks into place.

The sound makes Soobin’s knees feel unsteady.

His father picks up his watch and fastens it around his wrist. “From tomorrow, your schedule changes.”

“Yes, sir.”

“No unnecessary outings.”

“Yes, sir.”

“No distractions.”

“Yes, sir.”

His father’s eyes sharpen. “No excuses.”

Soobin swallows. “Yes, sir.”

The paper is still on the desk, marked with his failed working. His father taps it once with two fingers. “Keep it.”

Soobin looks at it.

“Look at it when you forget what happens to boys who mistake arrogance for ability.” His father walks to the door. The lock releases. Light from the corridor cuts into the room. He stops without turning around. “September will decide whether you are my son or my apology.”

Then he leaves. The door closes softly behind him.

For a while, Soobin does not move. The room settles around him. Desk. Chair. Paper. Clock.

His breath comes out once, uneven and quiet. He looks at the failed answer, at the crossed-out lines, at the smear of ink beneath his palm. Then his gaze lifts to the clock mounted on the wall.

Ten minutes. Zero seconds. 

Soobin looks at the clock and he wants to do nothing but smash it against the floor.

A week later, Choi Soobin waits behind the school with a cigarette between his fingers and blood in his mouth.

Not actual blood. Just the metallic taste that comes when he’s angry enough to bite the inside of his cheek raw and keep biting.

Hanul High looks different from back here. From the front, it’s all polished stone and manicured trees and old money pretending not to brag. From the back, near the bins and the delivery gate and the patch of concrete where the delinquents linger between classes, it looks like what it is—a machine. One that chews through students, spits out rankings, then acts surprised when some of them come out with teeth.

Soobin takes a drag and stares at nothing.

Last week, he stood in Beomgyu’s game room with a pool cue in his hand and watched you smile like you’d already decided the outcome of his life. The room had been neon and laughter and expensive boredom. The kind of room built for rich kids who are allowed to fail decoratively. Not him. Never him.

If you don’t place first in September, you’d said, all polished cruelty and steady eyes, you’re going to stand up at assembly and say I deserved first place.

His jaw tightens just thinking about it.

He drops the cigarette, grinds it out under his shoe, then hears footsteps approaching from the side of the building. Unhurried—no attempt to hide them.

“You wanted to see me?”

Choi Yeonjun steps into view with his tie loose, blazer slung over one shoulder, shirt half untucked like uniforms are more of a suggestion where he’s concerned. His hair is bleached pale enough to look almost obscene in the afternoon light. Around him, Hanul’s strict little world always seems a bit offended.

He glances at the dead cigarette by Soobin’s shoe and then at Soobin himself. There’s the beginning of a smirk there already—like he’s walked in halfway through a joke and intends to enjoy the rest.

Soobin folds his arms. “Rumours say you’re a bit of a heartbreaker. And that you’d do anything for cash.”

One of Yeonjun’s brows lifts. He doesn’t answer immediately. He lets the silence stretch just enough to make the sentence sound stupid. Soobin can already tell what he’s thinking.

Choi Soobin. Student council president. Apex Seminar. The kind of family that gets doors opened before he reaches the handle. Standing behind the school by the bins, asking for Choi Yeonjun like this.

What a joke. 

“Rumours say a lot of things.” Yeonjun’s gaze drops briefly to the cigarette. “Like Choi Soobin wouldn’t be caught dead behind the bins smoking, but here you are.”

Soobin says nothing.

Yeonjun tilts his head. “You have a job for me?”

“Yeah.”

Yeonjun waits. He doesn’t fill silences the way rich kids do when they’re nervous. He just stands there, relaxed, like time bends around him instead of the other way round.

Soobin hates that immediately.

He hates a lot of things these days.

You. Your face. Your stupid, immaculate composure. The way teachers soften when they say your name. The way you never seem rushed, even when everyone around you is choking on pressure. The way you’ve been first for so long the whole school speaks about it like weather—reliable and annoying, but inevitable.

He hates that even now, after all these years, you can still make him feel fourteen and furious and half a step behind.

He looks at Yeonjun and says, “I need you to distract someone.”

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a/n: hello hello hello my loves!! its been a hot minute hehehe i missed you all soooo much. how have you all been? also what do we all think of this? i think you guys can all see the kdrama inspo, specifically sky castle!! i cant promise when part two will be up but as always your comments, reblogs and asks fuel my fingers!!

review your experience, thoughts, or unhinged feelings here

you were already blushing so hard your cheeks felt like they were on fire.

shotaro had you sitting on his lap in just your soft pink bra and panties, his hands gently resting on your waist. he looked up at you with those warm sparkly eyes, smiling so sweetly even as his thumbs slowly traced the underside of your breasts.

“you are so pretty like this,” he whispered, voice gentle and a little husky. “my shy baby… you do not have to hide from me.”

you bit your lip and tried to look away, but he caught your chin softly and made you meet his eyes again. your heart was beating so fast you were sure he could feel it.

“can i take this off?” he asked, fingers brushing the clasp of your bra.

you gave the tiniest nod, too embarrassed to speak. shotaro smiled brighter and unhooked it slowly, letting the fabric fall away. the cool air made your nipples harden instantly and you instinctively tried to cover yourself with your arms.

shotaro made a soft little sound and gently pulled your wrists away. “do not hide, baby. let me see you. you are so beautiful.”

he leaned in and pressed the softest kiss right between your breasts, then another, and another, slowly working his way to one nipple. when his warm mouth finally closed around it you let out a tiny squeak, hands flying up to grip his shoulders.

“taro…” you whispered, voice all small and shy.

he hummed happily against your skin and started sucking gently, tongue swirling around your nipple while his hand came up to cup and squeeze your other breast. his thumb brushed over the sensitive peak, rolling it slowly, and you could not stop the soft whimper that escaped.

“does that feel good?” he asked, switching to the other nipple and giving it the same slow, wet attention. he sucked a little harder this time, pulling it into his mouth and flicking his tongue over it until your back arched.

“yes… feels really good,” you admitted in the tiniest voice, cheeks burning hotter. you were so embarrassed at how sensitive you were, but shotaro looked like he was in heaven.

he pulled back just enough to blow cool air on your wet nipple, then pinched both of them lightly between his fingers. your hips twitched in his lap and he noticed immediately, smiling against your skin.

“my shy girl is so sensitive here,” he murmured, squeezing and kneading your breasts together. he buried his face between them, kissing and licking everywhere while his hands kept playing. every pinch, every suck, every little tug made you whimper and squirm.

shotaro looked up at you, eyes dark but still so warm. “you make the cutest sounds when i play with your tits. can i keep going? please?”

you nodded shyly, biting your lip hard. he grinned and laid you back on the bed, crawling over you. now he had both hands free. he spent what felt like forever just touching, squeezing, licking, and sucking on your breasts. he would pinch one nipple while sucking the other, then switch, sometimes using his teeth in the gentlest way that made your toes curl.

“taro… it is too much…” you whined, tears of pleasure pricking your eyes. your nipples were swollen and shiny from his mouth, so sensitive that even his breath made you tremble.

“just a little more, baby,” he cooed, sucking one nipple deep into his mouth while rolling the other between his fingers. “you are doing so well. my pretty shy girl letting me play with her like this… i love it so much.”

your hips kept rolling up against him without you meaning to, searching for friction. shotaro noticed and slid one thigh between your legs, pressing it right against your soaked panties so you could grind while he kept worshipping your tits.

“that is it,” he praised softly, voice muffled against your skin. “use my thigh while i take care of these pretty nipples. make yourself feel good, baby.”

you were so embarrassed but so needy that you started grinding faster, little moans and whimpers falling from your lips nonstop. shotaro kept sucking and pinching, switching between your breasts until you were shaking.

when you finally came just from his mouth on your tits and his thigh between your legs, you cried out his name in the shyest, sweetest voice. shotaro groaned happily and kept licking you through it, gentle and slow, until the waves faded.

afterwards he pulled you into his arms, kissing your swollen nipples one last time before cuddling you against his chest. his hand rubbed soothing circles on your back while he pressed soft kisses to your burning cheeks.

“my perfect shy girl,” he whispered, smiling so brightly. “you were so cute letting me play with you like that. we can do it again whenever you want… even if you get all blushy and embarrassed.”

you hid your face in his neck, still trembling, but you nodded shyly.

you’re already shaking and it’s only the second round.

sungchan has you pinned to the bed, thighs spread wide by his strong hands, his face buried between your legs like he’s starving. his tongue is relentless, lapping, sucking, flicking your swollen clit while two thick fingers curl deep inside you, hitting that spot that makes stars explode behind your eyes.

“sungchan—ah—please, i can’t—” you sob, hips twitching uselessly as another orgasm rips through you. your whole body convulses, thighs clamping around his head, but he doesn’t stop. he just laughs against your pussy, the vibration making you cry out louder.

he pulls back just enough to look up at you, lips shiny and smirk cruel. “already crying, baby? we’ve barely started.”

his fingers keep moving. slow, deliberate strokes that drag out every aftershock. you’re so sensitive it hurts, but the pleasure is overwhelming, turning your brain into static. tears spill down your cheeks as you whimper, hands fisting the sheets.

“look at you,” he mocks, voice low and mean, “shaking like a little leaf. so fucking pathetic. one more and you’re already falling apart?”

“too much… too much—” you choke out, but he just chuckles darkly and dives back in.

third orgasm hits harder. your back arches off the bed, a broken scream tearing from your throat as you squirt all over his tongue and chin. sungchan groans in satisfaction, licking up every drop like it’s his favorite treat, but he still doesn’t pull away.

instead, he adds a third finger, stretching you open while his mouth suctions around your clit again. the overstimulation is brutal now. every nerve on fire, pleasure bordering on pain. you’re sobbing openly, body trembling uncontrollably, legs kicking weakly against his shoulders.

“aww, poor baby,” he coos mockingly, pulling back just to watch you fall apart. his free hand presses down on your lower stomach, making everything feel even more intense. “crying so pretty for me. you gonna tap out already? i thought you could take it.”

“sungchan—please—i’m sorry—i can’t—” your voice is wrecked, high and desperate, but he only laughs again.

“can’t what? can’t come again? too bad.” he curls his fingers harder, faster, thumb rubbing tight circles on your clit. “you’re gonna give me one more. right now.”

the fourth one crashes over you without mercy. you scream, vision whitening, body seizing as the pleasure rips through you violently. tears stream down your face, drool slipping from the corner of your mouth. you’re a complete mess. shaking, twitching, pussy clenching uselessly around his fingers while he keeps pumping through it, drawing it out until you’re babbling nonsense.

only then does he finally slow down, sliding his fingers out with a wet sound that makes you whimper. he crawls up your body, hovering over you with that wicked smirk, eyes dark with satisfaction. his fingers still glistening with your release. trace your tear-streaked cheek.

“look at this pathetic little thing,” he murmurs, voice dripping with fake sympathy. “all fucked out and crying just from my tongue and fingers. so sensitive… so easy.”

you can only sob softly, body still trembling with aftershocks. sungchan leans down and kisses your forehead almost gently, but the words that follow are anything but.

“don’t worry, baby. we’re not done. i wanna see how many more times i can make you cry before you pass out.”

he presses two fingers back against your oversensitive entrance, and your broken whine only makes him laugh again.