JUNHUISCENT

⋆｡°✩RELIEF, THE RIGHT WAY (18+ [s])

WC: 3.7k / stepdad cheol x female reader

JEONGHAN

⋆｡°✩HAUNTED DEVOTION (18+ [s])

WC: 6.8k / ex jeonghan x female reader x bf joshua

JOSHUA

⋆｡°✩HAUNTED DEVOTION (18+ [s])

WC: 6.8k / bf joshua x female reader x ex jeonghan

JUN

⋆｡°✩PRIVATE FOLDER (18+ [s], [f])

WC: 3.5k / pervy bsf jun x female reader

HOSHI

⋆｡°✩FINAL REHEARSAL: NO LIMITS (18+ [s])

WC: 2.7k / hoshi x female reader x woozi

WONWOO

WOOZI

⋆｡°✩LESSONS IN POSSESION (18+ [s])

WC: 2.1k / jealous bf woozi x female reader

⋆｡°✩FINAL REHEARSAL: NO LIMITS (18+ [s])

WC: 2.7k / woozi x female reader x hoshi

MINGHAO

MINGYU

DOKYEOM

SEUNGKWAN

VERNON

With every hand hold, every forehead kiss and every bouquet of flowers you could feel yourself healing.

healing.. That’s what you should be experiencing. That’s what any normal person would be experiencing.

Yet your uncertainty was defined by that slight hunger you could never seem to soothe, that unquenchable thirst that gnawed away at you when you lay asleep at night beside Shua.

You told yourself that it was just you adjusting to finally being in a healthy relationship— that it’s just a part of the process. However these thoughts never seemed to silence the feelings that haunted you.

You weren’t going to let this stop you. You couldn’t let him stop you. Your life was finally beginning to settle, amidst all your exams you could finally breathe and live your life for yourself.

You repeat this to yourself as you let the thumping bass numb your senses. You stand, slightly swaying with your hands intertwining with Joshua’s— a familiar comfort attempting to anchor your thoughts from slipping as your eyes flicker to the silhouette in the corner of the room.

That silhouette. Even in the dimly lit frat house it was undeniable. Yoon Jeonghan.

Amidst the overbearing music, the drunken dancing and the relentless sway of bodies.. he stays still.

He was always like that— he never made an effort to be seen but always stayed so strikingly evident. Too calm for an atmosphere like this, yet too still to ignore.

Although the outline of his body is all that can be seen, it’s the way he carries himself that makes you so certain that it is, in fact, him. He not only radiates a sense of confidence, but also knowledge. As if he already knows that you have succumbed to him.

But you haven’t.. And you won’t.

You couldn’t let him wreck you again.

What you and Yoon Jeonghan had wasn’t love. It was something much worse. It was complete devotion. It was intoxicating manipulation coming from the sweetest mouth. His brutal words which sounded like hymns, coaxing you to repent your whole life just in order to submit to him. His eyes which forced you to surrender voluntarily to be ruined. He took over your body, your mind and your heart and that kind of possession is something you still carry like a myth in your chest.

What you have now with Joshua is real love.. You needed it to be.

The rosy light catches Jeonghan’s skin for just a second, revealing the curve of his smirk, half lost in the shadow. You gulp upon the sight, the memories drifting in like smoke, curling around each thought in your mind before you can stop them.

Memories of him above you. The sight of him looking up at you with that very smirk before licking a stripe up your heat. The feverous feeling of his touch which only comes from being wanted beyond control. The way his voice somehow mocked and praised you at the same time when he’d say how sweet you tasted. These images didn’t come back by force— but by cruel longing.

What makes it worse? The fact that you know he has all the same memories.

Although it feels like you are the only one who is spiralling into the past, you also are aware why what you and Jeonghan had felt so devastatingly real. It was reciprocated.

Dating Yoon Jeonghan felt like every breathe you took was solely for him— he consumed your world, seeped into your bloodstream.. you were living for him.

But he felt it too. Maybe even tenfold.

Because every piece of your existance that you handed over, Jeonghan clung onto it. But he was never a theif. He didn't walk away untouched. He was equally as ruined by you. And the moment his eyes met yours, you knew he was falling straight back into the version of himself that owned you.

That's why you knew you couldn't see him again. That's why you begged your friends not to invite him. Because no matter how far Jeonghan runs, he’ll always crawl back to the thing that broke him.

You.

It takes everything in you to peel your eyes off Jeonghan's gaze, redirecting it to Joshua— completely oblivous.

"Everything okay, babe?" Joshua asks, his tone echoing his genuine concern at your sudden pale complexion. His head tilted to the side and hand holding yours reassuringly as you nod.

Shua leans forward to plant a gentle but grounding kiss on your forehead. "I'll go get a drink for you, you can stay here, don't worry." You choke out a response in agreement and redirect your focus to finding one of your friends in the crowd.

Regaining control, you work yourself through the crowd. Cutting through the obnoxious array of costumes. Bumping into a hardly dressed cop, you are brought into a menial conversation based around how drunk they were.

Sighing, you search for an escape — and for once, the universe seems merciful when you feel a familiar tap on your shoulder. The hand stays planted lightly on your shoulder and you take the chance to turn back to your boyfriend with your drinks.

You turn with a practiced smile ready on your lips— only to feel it die. It feels as if from the moment you turn, something shifts in the air. An eerily known scent setting off every alarm bell in your mind.

Because Joshua never looked at you like that.

The music stays thumping yet you can hardly hear it. Jeonghan has a way of eye contact which no one else can master and you can’t even figure out why.

Even in his stupid attempt of attempt of a zombie costume he still looks perfect — just like he did when you were his. The tacky fake blood makeup around his mouth just accentuating his flawless lips and suddenly he has you imagining the taste of them again.

You are pushed further into your spiralling thoughts by the feeling of his skin on yours, brushing your arm to pull you closer. You gulp and he presses in just close enough to shatter any thoughts from forming. His hot breath fanning against your ears as you feel yourself already wanting to melt into his touch — already wanting to give in to the haunting familiarity.

“Don’t tense,” he murmurs, voice low and impossibly unmistakable. “It’s just me.” Along with his words, his hand slides up your arm, his touch slow and enticing.

You can’t bring yourself to make eye contact. You can’t trust yourself to. Instead, your eyes stayed unfocused near his chest, blinking rapidly as if that would do anything to aid you in this situation.

“You still get like this when I touch you?” His head tilts, eyes glinting with amusement with his insufferable smirk refusing to budge.

"Don't flatter yourself." You snap, although the catch in your throat ruins the delivery and judging by the lick of Jeonghan's lips.. he heard it.

Fortunately, you notice Joshua coming back with the drinks before Jeonghan can reply with whatever cocky nonsense was lurking behind that smirk.

"Don't bother with whatever game you are trying to play tonight. I'm here with Shua."

The sight of Joshua’s honest smile as he lifts the cups in his hands, allows your muscles to finally unclench. For a second, you can breathe.

But comfort never lasts long when Jeonghan is near. Of course he has to ruin it, his voice slipping in smooth and effortless as silk,

“Enjoy your drinks. I’ll see you later.”

He says it like a promise, not a possibility. And you can't help but find it utterly infuriating because while Joshua is holding your drink with steady hands and genuine affection, your mind is already spiralling. Already relentlessly attempting to decode what Jeonghan meant. Did he know you’d spend the rest of the night replaying those few words, turning them over until they sounded like a threat, a lure, a certainty?

Because that’s what Jeonghan does best—he doesn’t stay, he lingers.

You try your best to stay grounded in the moment, forcing your focus onto Joshua as he presses the cold cup into your hand. His fingers brush yours gently, careful, as if he's afraid of breaking you—and that alone makes your chest ache. He’s perfect. Steady. Everything you should want.

Which is why the guilt starts crawling in immediately. You don’t want to hurt him, not when he looks at you like that.

But the longer you study his calm smile, the more something twists uneasily in your stomach.

Shouldn’t he have noticed? Shouldn’t he have said something about Jeonghan? There hadn’t been even the smallest flicker of tension, no shift in his expression—just Joshua, unshaken, like nothing in the world could rattle him.

And maybe that should comfort you. It should. So why does it only leave you unsettled? Why does it somehow bother you more than Jeonghan's eyes still studying your figure from the other side of the room?

Surely this is the part where Joshua grabs your wrist, pulls you towards him and proves that he is the one you belong to. Yet again, those thoughts could just come from being conditioned by Jeonghan's ways.

Like the times he'd come home and slam you against the door for 'staring at his friend' when you had just zoned out. Like the times he'd mark you all over every exposed part of your skin the night before you would go out with your friends.

You nod to yourself. Joshua's way has to be the healthy way and you are beyond lucky to be with someone like him.

You hate yourself for absent-mindedly comparing the two— and you hate yourself even more when you catch yourself helplessly searching the crowd for that shit zombie costume.

Apparently, you’d zoned out longer than you realised, because the faint echo of your name finally cuts through the noise. Once. Twice. Then again, a little louder.

You blink, snapping your focus back to Joshua, who’s grinning at you in that way that makes it impossible not to soften.

“Spacing out again?” his expression seems to say, and before you can even respond, he nods toward something across the room.

Following his gaze, you catch sight of Mingyu, or at least what used to be Mingyu, currently attempting to do body shots off a pumpkin. You burst out laughing before you can stop yourself, and Joshua’s arm slips around your shoulders, pulling you in like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

For a moment, you almost feel at ease again.

With the burn of alochol starting to seem sweet, you heedlessly open your phone in response to a notification, without checking the contact.

'I don't like waiting when I already know how this ends.'

You squint at the screen, a breathless laugh slipping out. There’s only one person dramatic enough to send that. Of course. Yoon Jeonghan.

You step back from Shua, leaving the grounding safety of his arms. You already know that will be your first mistake.

The buzz from the alcohol was enough to perfectly blur the edges of your caution — just enough to trick you into feeling brave. And so, with a smug smirk, you type a response.

'Leave me alone. You don't know anything.'

For a second you feel a sense of pride. Did you really just resist the Yoon Jeonghan? Fuck— maybe you actually moved on.

'Well you know i'm impatient. Don't make me prove it.'

The weight behind his words leaves you breathless and the warmth pooling between your legs betrays you. It's painfully obvious he can see through your facade.

Why is he allowed to be cocky and you're not?

Joshua catches your eye with his inviting smile and for a second his grin feels like sunlight breaking through smoke. You let yourself believe in that look — that maybe he’s enough to silence Jeonghan’s voice.

You turn back to that dreaded screen and hold the button till it dies. The screen goes black. You pretend that means something. If only it was enough to mute Jeonghan in real life.

As though Joshua can sense your action, he takes your hand in his.

“Come on,” he says, nodding toward the beer pong table. “Seungkwan’s about to have a meltdown if we don’t join.”

Before you can process it, you’re being tugged through the crowd, your earlier spiralling slipping to the back of your mind as the familiar chaos of a frat game takes over.

Seungkwan, in his surprisingly accurate anpanman costume, is already shouting about “precision and honour” like it’s an Olympic event. Hoshi’s lost his shirt (why does that always happen?), and DK is hyping him up like a sports commentator. You end up on Joshua’s side of the table, wedged between him and Dino, clutching a red cup that smells faintly of regret.

For a while, it’s almost easy to get lost in it. You cheer when Dino actually sinks a shot, you groan when Seungkwan blames “spiritual interference” for missing, and you laugh when Joshua winks at you before scoring one himself. It’s loud, ridiculous, warm.

Until you look up.

Jeonghan’s on the opposite side. He’s not playing — of course he’s not — just leaning against the table, watching. The low amber light hits him just enough to make him glow, and the faint curl of a smile pulls at his lips every time your eyes accidentally meet.

You tell yourself you’re just checking the score. You tell yourself again when you catch him tracing the rim of his cup with a lazy finger, like he’s timing your glances.

Great. First I ignore his text, now I’m flirting with him across ten plastic cups of beer.

“Focus!” Seungkwan snaps, making you jump. “You’re our moral support—do your job!”

“Sorry,” you mutter, though your heart’s already thudding in your throat.

The game ends with Joshua landing the final shot, Seungkwan erupting into a dramatic victory dance that somehow involves a body roll, and DK demanding a rematch. You can’t help laughing—loud, genuine. Joshua slings an arm around you, presses a kiss to your temple, and for a moment, it feels… right.

Then, like clockwork, Jeonghan appears.

He’s casual, effortless, the picture of someone who doesn’t need attention but gets it anyway. “Nice shot,” he says to Joshua, voice smooth enough to slip under your skin. “Didn’t know you had that kind of aim.”

Joshua laughs. “Guess I’m full of surprises.”

“Guess so.” Jeonghan’s gaze flicks to you, lingering for just a second too long. “Mind if I borrow her for a second?”

You blink. Surely he’s joking. But Joshua just smiles—sweet, easy, oblivious. “Yeah, of course.”

And just like that, the floor seems to tilt beneath you.

Everyone else is already turning away, caught up in refilling cups and shouting about who’s next, while Jeonghan’s fingers brush your wrist. Light. Purposeful. Inevitable.

Oh, perfect, you think dryly. Just hand me over to the man who once ruined my ability to feel peace in silence.

The music swells, the lights spin, and suddenly it’s just the two of you again.

The crowd blurs behind you as Jeonghan’s hand brushes against your back, guiding you through the narrow hallway. You tell yourself you’re just following out of confusion—just to hear him out—but the moment the bathroom door clicks shut, you realise you were following out of habit. Out of muscle memory.

"I told you I'd see you later." He leans back against against the counter with his arms crossed and his half-lidded eyes dropping down to your figure before meeting yours again.

You scoff, still determined to keep your guard up. "Only because you practically kidnapped me."

He grabs your hand—you let him. Pulling you slightly closer to him, just enough so he can keep one hand on your hip. "It would've been closer to kidnapping if your boyfriend actually cared."

His eyes finally flick away from yours giving you a chance to breathe as he tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear. "Did you see his face when I asked to borrow his precious girlfriend?" His words somehow echo the exact thoughts which consumed you. "Even he admits you belong to me. Why won't you?"

For a second, you forget how to breathe.

He’s always looked good, but under the dull bathroom light it’s almost unfair — hair falling just enough to shadow his eyes and veins scuplting the arms which balance him. He doesn’t have to try. Jeonghan never has. Even now, with his shirt slightly wrinkled and his sleeves rolled haphazardly to his elbows, he looks like a mistake you're willing to take.

Your lips part before you can think of something clever to say, but nothing comes out. He notices, of course he does, tilting his head just enough for the strands at his temple to brush his cheek.

“You always do that,” he says softly. “Try to look angry when you’re just scared of what happens next.”

Your heartbeat stutters and you can feel it in your throat when you answer, “I’m not scared.”

He laughs, low, quiet. “If you didn’t want me,” he murmurs, stepping closer, “you wouldn’t have followed me in here.”

Before you can process his words, the space between you collapses.

The kiss hits like a collision—hard, disorienting, too familiar. For a heartbeat you almost push him away, but then everything you’ve been holding back tears through you at once: the anger, the ache, the months of silence that never quieted him in your head.

It’s not gentle. It’s the kind of kiss that drags every buried feeling to the surface. You taste regret, want and the ghost of every word you never said. His hands find your face, keeping you still as if he’s afraid you’ll vanish, and all you can do is clutch at his shirt like it’s the only thing keeping you upright.

The world tilts, the counter digs into your spine, and somewhere between breaths you realise you’re shaking. Whether it’s from fury or longing, you can’t tell—maybe both.

You feel the kiss break you open, tasting salt before realising you’re crying into him. His hand finds your jaw, thumb brushing the corner of your mouth as if to ask for silence — or forgiveness.

When you finally pull back, your breath catches against his. Neither of you speak. You just stand there, chests rising in sync, the world spinning somewhere outside the locked door.

And still, you can’t tell if you followed him in here to remember him, or to forget him. But that's the last thing that matters right now.

"Fuck you don't know what this costume has been doing to me all night." He speaks in between breaths, holding the fabric of your skirt between his slender fingers. His other hand rests on your thigh grabbing the soft skin as he growls into your neck.

He uses his hand on your thigh to move you backwards, your steps becoming the ghost of his until the cold, harsh surface of the bathroom wall meets your partially exposed back.

You can't escape his eyes now, the narrow air between you becoming thick with something you both refuse to name. "Still pretending you don't want this?" he drawls, the smirk in his tone sharper than the one on his face.

God you want to hate him so bad, but your body never learned how. You can't tell if you're angry at him or yourself for wanting this so much.

You don't answer him — you can't. Yet you also can't deny how desperately you crave his body on yours again. You told yourself to stay calm. To breathe. To not lean in. You do anyway—pulling his lips back to yours.

The fleeting look of surprise on his face before it meets yours feels like a moment of victory even though you're giving into what he planned. You couldn't care less about denying it now.

Jeonghan groaned against your lips, his grip on your chin tightening slightly as he returned the kiss with fervor. His free hand moved to your waist, pulling you closer to him, wanting to feel your body pressed against his. He deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth as he took control, his possessive nature taking over.

The heat of his body against yours sends your head spiralling into familiarity as you let your legs part. Jeonghan feels it and he instantly takes the opportunity to press himself even closer, his thigh rubbing against you as he continues to devour your lips. He lets go of your chin, his hand instead moving to your hip, his fingers digging into your skin as he desperately pulls you against him, wanting to feel all of you again.

Jeonghan pulls back just far enough for his breath to mingle with yours—his lips swollen, eyes half-lidded with lust—as if he’s only breaking the kiss to watch what it’s done to you.

"Still taste the same." He rasps, licking his lips as if to savour the taste.

You gulp—the erratic thud of your heartbeat filling your throat. "You're disgusting.”

"Then why is your body so obviously begging for more of me?" He teases with a cock of his eyebrow, fingers moving like silk under your skirt and the pads of his fingertips testing the evident moisture.

The feeling of his cold fingertips tracing heat into your skin renders you speechless as you melt into his touch. His eyes stay examining your expression—as if he’s trying to commit this moment to memory, piece by piece.

His hands, however, move to steady your hips flat against the wall as he lowers himself with practiced ease — like he’s done this a hundred times before. Well. He practically has.

Jeonghan's lips latch onto your thigh, biting it just barely hard enough to almost leave a mark. His eyes darken as he looks up at you, his hand gripping your hip even tighter, pulling you closer to him, pressing his body against yours, making sure you can feel how much he wants you—how desperate he is for you.

Jeonghan's fingers hook into the sides of your underwear, pulling them down at an agonizingly slow pace while maintaining that intense eye contact — his dark eyes practically devouring you already.

He grabs the back of your thigh, prompting you to raise that leg as he licks a stripe up your inner thigh to your heat. He whines into your core at the taste of you—each flick of his tongue coaxing out gentle moans.

Jeonghan's tongue is a teasing, torturous thing, tracing patterns on your skin that make you arch against the wall. He knows exactly what he's doing — his touch calculated to drive you wild. His hands grip your hips, holding you in place as his mouth moves higher, his breath hot and tantalizing against your most sensitive area.

You gasp as his tongue finally reaches its target — the sensation overwhelming and intense. He takes his time, exploring every inch with a hunger that matches your own. His hands move to your thighs, spreading you wider, giving him better access.

Jeonghan's moans vibrate against you, sending waves of pleasure through your body. He knows how to use his mouth, his tongue, his teeth, each movement designed to bring you closer to the edge. You can feel the tension building, your body coiling tighter with each stroke of his tongue.

His hands move to your ass, pulling you closer, deeper into his mouth. You can hear the wet sounds of his tongue, the soft moans escaping your own lips. The world outside the bathroom door fades away, leaving only the two of you — lost in this moment of raw, unfiltered passion.

Jeonghan's pace quickens, his tongue moving faster, harder, as if he can sense your impending release. You can feel the pressure building, your body trembling with anticipation. His hands grip your ass tighter, his fingers digging into your flesh, holding you in place as he devours you.

With a final, desperate cry, you come undone, your body shuddering against his mouth. Jeonghan continues to lick and suck, drawing out every last wave of pleasure, his own moans mingling with yours. When you finally come down from your high, he pulls back — his lips glistening — a satisfied smirk playing on his face.

"Sweet as fucking honey." he rasps, his voice hoarse with desire.

You lean against the wall, your body still trembling, your breath coming in ragged gasps. Jeonghan stands, his eyes never leaving yours, a look of pure hunger in their depths. He knows he's won this round, and the smug satisfaction on his face only serves to fuel your own desire.

"See?" he murmurs, his voice a low, seductive purr. "You can't deny it. You can't deny us."

And in that moment, as you stand there breathless, you know he's right. No matter how hard you try, no matter how much you fight it, you can't deny the undeniable pull between you and Jeonghan. It's a force stronger than reason—more powerful than logic.

You both stand there for a moment, the aftermath of your encounter hanging heavy in the air. Jeonghan's smirk still in place, a silent acknowledgment of the power he holds over you. You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but your legs still feel like jelly.

Jeonghan reaches out, his fingers wiping his zombie makeup off your face, a gesture so intimate it doesn't seem to suit him. "Ready to face the world again?" he asks, his voice regaining volume.

You nod, still breathless, and he takes your hand, leading you towards the bathroom door. As you reach for the handle, Jeonghan pulls you back, his lips capturing yours in a swift, possessive kiss. "Remember," he whispers against your lips, "you're mine."

The door swings open, and there, standing right outside, is Joshua. His smile is wide and warm, his eyes sparkling with a sinister sweetness that makes your stomach drop. He holds out your phone, his fingers brushing yours as you take it, a gesture that feels both familiar and alien.

"Feel better now?" he asks, his tone casual, as if he didn't just catch you in the most intimate of moments with another man. And not just any man—Yoon Jeonghan.

His forehead kiss is gentle, almost loving, but it sends a shiver down your spine, a mix of shame, confusion, and a lingering heat from your encounter with Jeonghan.

You blink, trying to process the situation, but Joshua is already moving, his arm slipping around your waist in a possessive hold. "Come on," he says, his voice smooth and calm. "Let's go back to mine."

Jeonghan, standing beside you, chuckles, a low, knowing sound. "Jeonghan, you coming too?" Joshua asks, his gaze flicking to Jeonghan with a hint of amusement.

Jeonghan's smirk widens, and he steps closer, his hand resting on the small of your back. "Wouldn't miss it for the world," he replies — his voice a low purr.

As the three of you walk away, your mind races, trying to piece together the puzzle. Joshua's calm acceptance, Jeonghan's smug satisfaction, and your own conflicting emotions swirl together in a chaotic mix. You can't help but wonder what Joshua knows, what he planned, and what the fuck is about to happen. But for now, all you can do is follow.

You step into Jeonghan's apartment, the heavy wooden door clicking shut behind you with ominous finality. The air is thick with anticipation, a tension that makes your skin prickle and your heart race. Joshua follows close behind.

Jeonghan stands—his back to you—pouring drinks in the corner. As he turns to face you, a slow, confident smirk spreads across his face, his eyes glinting with a predatory gleam.

You swallow hard, your mouth suddenly dry, as Joshua steps up beside you, his hand finding yours in a gesture that's equal parts comforting and confusing. You squeeze his fingers—seeking some stability in this uncertainty.

Jeonghan's hands find your hips, pulling you flush against him and away from Joshua. You can feel the hard length of him, pressing against your stomach — a promise of what's to come. Without a word, he guides you to Shua's bedroom. "Joshua," he says, his voice a low command, "come here."

You hear Joshua's footsteps, the rustle of his clothes as he moves to stand beside you. Jeonghan's hands leave your hips to settle you on the bed, and you feel a moment of disorientation, a sense of vulnerability that makes your heart race.

"Undress her," Jeonghan instructs. "Show me how much you want her."

You feel Joshua's hands, tentative at first, exploring your body with a nervous hesitation. His fingers trace the curve of your waist, the swell of your hips, his touch light and caring. His fingers cling to the fabric—slowly unravelling each item in your costume until you laid there exposed to the two men.

"Show me how you touch her, Shua," Jeonghan murmurs, "Don't hold back."

As Joshua's touches grow bolder — more confident under Jeonghan's command, you can't help but wonder about the depth of their plan. The way they move together, the way they anticipate each other's needs, it's clear that this wasn't a spontaneous decision. They've planned this, every detail, every movement, every touch. And as the realization dawns on you, a mix of confusion and arousal courses through your veins.

Jeonghan's hands are firm and guiding as he positions Joshua behind you, his body pressing against yours in a way that's both possessive and protective. You can feel the heat of Joshua's breath on your neck, his heartbeat a steady, almost rhythmic, thud against your back. Jeonghan leans in, his lips brushing Joshua's ear as he whispers instructions.

"Start with her neck," Jeonghan orders, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw. "Kiss it, nibble it, make her feel your desire."

Joshua complies, his lips finding the sensitive spot where your neck meets your shoulder, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that sends shivers down your spine. You lean into his touch, your body already aching for more.

"I want you to spank her, Shua." Jeonghan breathes out, yet his tone still stays disconnected—far too calculated.

You turn to look at Jeonghan after his order, unsure if Joshua will comply. Shua had never acted that way with you—surely he's too sweet for Jeonghan's cruel ways.

Joshua's hands settle on your waist and move you forwards into an arch before connecting with your ass in a sharp, stinging slap, the sound echoing in the room, a mix of pain and pleasure that cuts through your train of thought. Jeonghan's hand joins, his palm meeting your flesh in a rhythmic, punishing dance.

"Like this," Jeonghan instructs, his voice a low, dominant growl. "Spank her harder, practically fuck her with your hand."

Joshua mimics his movements, his touches becoming harsh and skilled. You could hardly deal with one Jeonghan—how the fuck will you manage two?

Jeonghan moves you back up to sit you in front of Shua, his breath hot against yours and Shua's left ears. "Now, Joshua," he spits, his voice low, "She loves getting choked."

Joshua's hand wraps around your throat, his grip firm but gentle, controlling your breath, making your head roll back.

"Degrade her," Jeonghan instructs further, his voice a dominant growl. "Make her feel like the little whore she is."

"Breathe, my little slut," he murmurs, his lips brushing your ear. "Breathe for me."

Joshua repeats the phrases his voice a mocking growl in your ear. "You're mine," he snarls, his hand tightening around your throat. "Mine to fuck, mine to use, mine to degrade."

You have never heard this tone from Shua. You can't process how the man currently choking you is your loving boyfriend. The man who was supposed to be your safe option. And shit—you had never noticed how veiny his arms were before.

Jeonghan's hands roam your body, his touches possessive. "You like him saying that, don't you, my little slut? You've always liked being used, being degraded, being made to feel like a worthless little whore."

You nod, your breath coming in quick, excited gasps.

"Good girl," Jeonghan murmurs. "Now, let's see how much you can take."

Their fingers trace every curve, every dip, every sensitive spot, pinching, slapping, and caressing in a rhythm that's both chaotic and perfectly synchronized as they position you against the headboard.

You can feel their hot breath on your skin, their lips brushing against your ear, your neck, your collarbone, leaving a trail of goosebumps and shivers.

"Touch yourself," Jeonghan commands. "Show us how much you want this."

You comply, your hand slipping between your legs, your fingers finding your clit, circling, teasing, building the tension. Joshua's hands find your breasts, his thumbs brushing against your nipples, rolling them, pinching them, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

"Fuck this—You look so good, let's show Shua how you like to get fucked." Jeonghan says through a smirk.

Your mind is still unravelled from pleasure as they position you by the window, your body on full display. The cool glass presses against your hot skin, a stark contrast that makes you gasp. Jeonghan stands behind you, his body pressing against yours, his cock a hard pressure against your ass. Joshua stays sat on the bed, his eyes dark with desire.

"Fuck her," Joshua now commands, his new tone already being picked up from Jeonghan. "Show me how she likes it. Fuck her like you still own her."

Jeonghan chuckles softly, his breath hitting your neck. Your mind has gone completely blank my this point—consumed by want. The sharp sound of Jeonghan's belt buckle making contact with the wooden floor is the last thing you hear before all your senses are silenced when Jeonghan enters you from behind, his slow movements acting as no remedy to his merciless stretch. You can feel every inch of him, a reminder of the hold he used to have over you.

Joshua doesn't just watch — he studies. Silently taking notes on how Jeonghan makes you squirm.

Jeonghan holds your hips in a position to keep you arched so he can hit your sweet spot perfectly—relentlessly—with every thrust. Each roll of his hips holds purpose and even the way he runs his hands through your hair before yanking it at the exact strength to heighten your pleasure works towards luring out your loudest sounds.

Jeonghan then pulls out—leaving you feeling far too empty as he positions you on your hands and knees, his hands firm and guiding as he arranges you to his liking. You can feel the cool wood of the floor beneath your palms, the soft rug beneath your knees, a stark contrast to the heat of your body—the fire of your desire.

You can hear more movement behind you, but your head is far too gone to process what could actually be taking place. That is until you feel a tip line up at your entrance, causing you to instinctively arch back into it.

Jeonghan's voice fills your ears again, but now from in front of you, instructing Joshua on how to enter you, how to fuck you just how he does.

"Start slow," Jeonghan murmurs, his fingers tracing the curve of your back, your hips, your ass.

Joshua complies, his cock pressing past your entrance. Jeonghan comes behind to guide his movements, his hands on Joshua's hips. He controls each thrust, allowing Shua to hit places he has never been able to. You lay your hands down in front so you can rest your head down, your ass still in the air for them to see.

Once Joshua understood the technique, Jeonghan came back to your front, lifting your chin up in his hand from the floor with a pitiful smirk. "Is our little girl already fucked out?" He teases, carressing your face and wiping smudged mascara away from your eyes, "Surely you can take another."

He moves up onto his knees before opening your mouth with his hand and slapping his cock on your tongue, the weight of his dick making your mouth water. Joshua's thrusts from behind jerk you froward onto Jeinghan's cock, the dual sensation of being filled, of being stretched, overwhelms your senses. You can feel every inch of them, the size of their cocks serving as a reminder of their dominance and control.

They move in sync, their rhythm deliberate. You can feel the tension building, the pleasure mounting, the edge of release looming ever closer.

"Beg for it," Jeonghan commands. "Beg for our cocks, beg for our release, beg for us to fill you, to use you."

You comply, your voice a desperate, pleading whimper, your body aching, throbbing, begging for release. Joshua's hands find your hips, pulling you back against him. He pulls out with each thrust then enters you with a ferocity that leaves you breathless, his hands gripping your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh, holding you in place as he fucks you with a rhythm that's both punishing and pleasurable.

Jeonghan watches, his cock in your mouth, using your mouth as he pleases, his hips snapping forward with each thrust. You can feel him, his taste, his scent, his presence. You suck him, your mouth, your tongue, your throat, working him, pleasing him, worshipping him.

Joshua's movements become more confident. He fucks you with a pace that leaves you breathless, his cock hitting all the right spots, sending waves of pleasure crashing through your body.

And as they continue to fuck you, you can feel the tension building further. You're a plaything, a toy, a vessel for their pleasure, and you've never felt more alive—more desired.

Jeonghan and Joshua's touches and thrusts are precise and unrelenting, building you up to the brink of orgasm with a skill that's both intoxicating and infuriating. You can feel the tension coiling in your body, the edge of release closer to hitting you with each movement.

"Come for us," Jeonghan murmurs, his voice a low, dominant purr. "Let us see that beautiful face of yours as you fall apart."

But just as you're about to tip over the edge, they pull back, their movements slowing, their touches gentling, leaving you gasping and needy, your body aching, throbbing, begging for release. Tears stream down your face, a mix of frustration and pleasure.

Jeonghan wipes them away and Joshua strokes the curve of your ass. "Shh, my beautiful girl," Shua coos, his voice is a low, soothing murmur, a contrast to the dominant, commanding tone he's taken up from Jeonghan. Jeonghan's lips brush against your ear. "You're doing so well. You please us so much."

Joshua's hands find your hips, pulling you back against him, his cock pressing back into you—the stretch somehow feeling more intense. You can taste the salt of your tears again when Jeonghan's cock pushes back down your throat asthey work back up to their previous pace.

They bring you to the brink again, teasing you, torturing you, driving you wild with need. Your makeup streams down your face, a constant, unending river of desire and desperation.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity of building you up, of driving you to the very brink of madness, Jeonghan hums "Now we can finish." As if it had been rehearsed they both fill you in that moment, their cocks pulsing, their releases hot and marking you.

Your eyes roll back, you cry out and feel yourself get sent over the edge. You collapse, your body spent and your mind a blur of sensations and emotions. You swallow Jeonghans cum and can feel Shua fingering his back into your core.

Shua lifts you up onto his bed, his smile wide and proud.

"You did so well, my beautiful girl," Joshua murmurs, his fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. "That was... that was something else."

Jeonghan chuckles, "I'm glad you enjoyed it," he says, his voice a mix of amusement and satisfaction. "I take it you learned a thing or two?"

It's the times when you have him blowing up your phone when you don't reply, cooking chinese food when your stomach rumbles and the pair of pink slippers nustled into his hallway designated for you that make you realise that no man will ever live up to him.

He has been exceeding your expectations since the night you met him. The night your friend ditched you at the club for some dick, leaving you, in flawless makeup and an outfit you had been planning for days somehow contemplating going home.

Purse in hand, you caught sight of a him cutting through the crowd —suspiciously good looking and his smile reeking of "Are you open-minded?". You gripped the strap tighter, breath stalling, but instead of trying to get you drunk or onto the dance floor, he stayed beside you all night.

Since then, Jun had been at every birthday party, been through every breakup and been by your side through every moment you needed him — he's your constant. The one who will always stay.

Never once has a single hint of hesitation hit you when telling him all your worries. All the times you used to be crying on your bed, gut clenched at the realisation you had no one to talk to now couldn't feel like a more distant memory.

Chest tightening, you remind yourself not to take him for granted. Although, he certainly likes to make it difficult when he abandons everything for your needs. Like that time he skipped dance practice so you could have a sleepover the night your ex broke up with you.

Looking around at your empty room, you tuck away your pink slippers into your highest cupboard. They look far too lonely when they aren't in his apartment, accompanied by his grey pair. You yank at your charger, expecting a reply, only to be left with another painful reminder of his busy schedule.

Three months into his filming in China, and you're certain you are one minor inconvenience away from insanity.

You’d be lying if you said you didn't have moments — close calls. His hands brushing yours. Lingering looks. Him wiping your tears with his shirt sleeve. But you would never dare to cross the line.

You couldn't. He’s your best friend. Always has been. What would you do if it fucks things up?

However, Jun percieves you differently.

After years of being friends, it became impossible for him to keep seeing you not getting treated how you deserved. You'd be happier with him. How could you not see this?

Every time he comforts you, every sleepover you have, every tear he wipes from your cheek, the urge swells. At first it was his desire to comfort you— to love you. But it's rotted into something darker, something dirtier gnawing at him from the inside.

It's a quiet obsession that he isn't exactly proud of, yet he can't deny it. He especially can't deny it at times when you're curled up on his lap wearing his hoodie with those tiny fucking shorts you love. His dick pressing against his zipper as he excuses himself to the bathroom to take care of it.

But the last thing he wants is to make you feel uncomfortable or to push your boundaries and lose you forever.

So every memory becomes a part of his private folder. He saves voicenotes of you saying his name, photos of you sleeping beside him, even screenshots of times you were being accidentally flirty over text.

He reassures himself that it's just a way to keep himself controlled, that he needs an output for his desires, but even he is aware of how much he's slipping into his fantasy rather than the reality that could shatter if he moves too fast.

And now that he hasn't seen you in three months, he's spiralling. He thinks about you constantly, reading your texts over and over whilst he's on set. He thinks about how soft your skin must be, his cock getting harder from just imagining the feel of you in his arms again.

He predicted this might be the case when he left for China so he did something new. It was always a fantasy he dared not to admit. But he had no choice when he stayed round yours for the final sleepover. Each deep, rhythmic breath of yours coaxing his eyes to your underwear drawer.

Jun now laid on his bed. His figure adorned only his grey sweatpants and a pair of your white lace panties in his grasp.

You, however, were at Mingyu and Wonwoo's place. They were two friends Jun introduced you to recently as he instructed them to look after you whilst he was gone.

You were now curled up on their couch, phone balancing on your stomach, half-waiting for Jun to reply to your last message.

The three of you had fallen into a routine by now: Mingyu cooking too much, Wonwoo gaming on call, and you sneaking photos to send to Jun like you were documenting your survival.

It wasn’t the same without him. Mingyu and Wonwoo were sweet, loud, and distracting — but they weren’t Jun.

With the silence from your phone beginning to get nauseatingly loud, you snap a quick selfie to Jun, silently hoping it will prompt a faster response.

It's a simple photo — you, Jun's hoodie pooling at your waist, watching tv with Mingyu on their couch.

Grinning to yourself, you caption the selfie, 'bet you miss me more than i miss you' and hit send.

Jun didn’t mean to open it while he was half-hard, shirtless and lazy on his bed… but now he couldn’t stop staring.

Grip tightening on his phone, he looks back to your panties laced within his hand, mentally piecing the sight together with your selfie — the formed image driving himself insane. His hand instinctively reaches for his cock, carelessly pulling it out of his sweats as if it was routine.

He knew it was wrong but he couldn't help himself when he was this hard. He zoomed in on your neck, mind wandering to how soft your skin is there. Thinking about how much he wants to grab it and hold you down. Letting his hand trail over his sensitive tip, he hums in pleasure as he lets his head roll back.

Fueled by his ache, he lets the soft, pure fabric meet his dick, wiping his precum, not realising how far this would lead him. The contact with his cock and your panties made him twitch, imagining how you'd look in them— how you'd look in them beneath him.

Jaw tightening and head spiralling, the realisation that he can't escape this situation hits him. Yet, he doesn't fight it. He knows better than to fight it when he can feel his hunger surging with every bead of sweat accumulating on his forehead.

His cock twitches further into your panties and before he can process his actions, he's got them wrapped around the base.

The hotel room is cold, nothing like the view on his bed. His abs gleam with a thin sheen of sweat, sweatpants sitting low enough to reveal the girth of his cock, partially veiled by your damp underwear.

He's far too deep in the fantasy, far too deep for any critical thinking, his mind only containing you and his need for you to finally acknowledge him in the way he craves.

Pulling out his phone, with his brain barely present, Jun snaps a photo as a response to yours. The only difference being that his photo back contains his dick wrapped up in your panties.

It comes with no warning. The innocent notification buzzing against your stomach like a hug, fooling you into a sense of comfort.

You opened the message expecting a selfie. Instead, it was him. Hard. With panties—your panties, looped around the base.

Oh my god. That’s yours — that’s your underwear wrapped around his cock like some kind of trophy.

And he knows. He fucking knows you’re looking at it. He wants you to look at it. Wants you to see how hard he is for you, even when he’s not here. You can’t breathe.

Now you’re in Mingyu’s bathroom, phone shaking in your hands, thighs pressed tight together like that’ll help anything. What the fuck does this mean?

You build up the courage and face the image again, drinking in the view. His dick— your best friend Junhui's dick. You couldn't help but notice every detail.

Your phone showed every vein, it showed just how hard he was.. for you. And without warning, it was now seared into your memory.

Yet you didn't mind it.

You didn't mind the thought of Jun, thick, flushed and twitching into your panties that he must have stolen from you.

And the thought of what is happening outside the image, him in that hotel room with his hand wrapped around himself, panting your name whilst jerking his cock into your underwear.

Palms sweating, you notice the slight v-lines visible in the corner of the image causing your to almost choke on your saliva.

This only lead you to imagine his face— fuck, that pretty face. Probably just as flushed as his tip.

You catch a quick glimpse of your reflection in the bathroom mirror, your state mirroring your imagination of Jun in this current moment.

Your face flushed a bright rosy shade and the stark light above you making you feel far too exposed, yet also lighting up the image on your phone as if it's going to burn through your retinas— or maybe that's just due to your staring.

Around you, you can still hear the muffled sound of Mingyu and Wonwoo discussing the TV, yet with every beat of your heart increasing in volume, and your breath slowly getting heavier, it became much easier to ignore.

Was it a mistake? But fuck, what if it wasn't?

Either way, you can't deny the fact that it's your panties he stole. And it's your panties he's jerking off with.

That thought alone makes your breath shallow, hitched and humiliatingly loud.

With your hands tightening around your phone screen, you open your messages, yet you can't manage to type. Your trembling fingers hover over the keyboard as if they are haunting it.

Looking down, you view the picture again, heat Instantly spreading through your chest, the sensation travelling down your stomach.. and lower.

You couldn't stop staring, thoughtlessly imagining the heat spreading through your body was his touch. That his long, slender fingers were the ones carresing your inner thighs and the dizziness you felt was from him yanking your head back.

You had to collect your thoughts — your emotions.

Finally, you typed

You: 'Did you mean to send that to me?'

Every second that passes feels like torture. Your body and mind unable to cope with the perverse thoughts of what could be taking him so long.

Jun is lying in his hotel bed, half watching some random chinese tv show. His free hand tracing a lazy trail down his stomach, fingers slipping just under his waistband. He isn't exactly paying much attention to any of it though. In his eyes, you are the only thing that matters. The phone buzzes and he leans up, seeing your response. Jun pauses, considering his response.

Buzz

Jun's name lights up your screen. You don't touch it right away. Your chest tight, breath stalling as you almost drop your phone when you scramble to read his reply.

Jun: 'Yes.'

That's it? What's up with him.? You bring your knees up onto the closed toilet lid where you are sitting, your mind completely blank yet still full of questions. But aside your curiousity, your stomach stirs and your thighs rub together.

You are left with only one word as your solution.

You: 'Why?'

Jun shifts, pulling his hand from his waist. He sits up, the blanket bunching at his hips. He types, licking his bottom lip, considering his response. How was he supposed to tell you the truth? That he was obsessed?

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

His response was faster this time.

Jun: 'Was thinking about you' 'Wanted you to see it' 'To see how much I miss you'

Your knees weaken. Your breath gets heavier. Is this really happening? You don't even think before replying.

You: 'You're insane. I'm at Mingyu and Wonwoo's!'

Jun chuckles, shifting to lay back against the headboard, resting the phone against his chest.

Jun: 'Then be quiet for me.'

You stare at the message for a moment. Your skin tingling with heat as you subconsciously fan yourself. Biting your lip, you look back at the photo he sent before responding.

You: 'In the photo.. is that mine?'

A smirk curves Jun's lips as he reads your reply. His thumb tracing along the bare skin of his hip.

Jun: 'You're smart enough to figure that out' 'I bet they look better on you'

Your stomach flips at his words. It's a tone you've never heard from him before and it feels as though every thing he says sends a signal straight through your body.

You: 'What were you thinking!?'

His reply is instant.

Jun: 'Are you really that desperate to know what I was thinking about with your panties wrapped around my hard dick, hm?' 'Isn't it obvious?'

Jun pauses to think about what was on his mind. The image of you in those exact panties had been burned behind his eyelids. He'd been thinking about it nonstop for days at this point. He couldn't get you out of his system.

Jun: 'I've been thinking about you' 'About what I'd do if you were here' Your thumb hovers over the keyboard. You type something back but delete it. Your heart beat becoming the only distinguishable sound over the hesitant tap of your typing.

You: 'Tell me'

Again, he replies almost instantly. As if he'd ridden this train of thought a hundred times before.

Jun:'I’d have you on your knees right now' 'I’d pull your hair back so I could see your face'

Jun's hand curls around his length, squeezing. It's a poor, poor replacement for what he really wants. He closes his eyes, his mind already creating a picture, just picturing you there with him, all to himself.

Jun: 'I'd make you open your mouth for me.' 'I wouldn’t stop until you were a mess.' 'Then I’d use my tongue, my fingers, my dick. I'd make you feel so good.'

You close your eyes and picture it. Your legs feel restless. You rub your thighs together desperately in a pathetic attempt to ease your need for any kind of friction.

Steps faltering, you stumble your way to unlocking the bathroom door. Relief floods you, both Mingyu and Wonwoo are asleep in their rooms — unaware.

As if he could sense your movements, your phone starts ringing. Sharp against the counter, sudden enough to make your heart skip.

It’s him.

Your fingers hover over the screen. Breath catches. A pulse races through your chest, slowing only when you finally swipe to answer.

“Hey,” his voice hums through the line, low and deliberate, like he’s already inside your head.

His voice sounds soft and deep, that tone which you have been missing. It had been far too long since you have heard it.

In any other scenario, your body would instinctively relax upon hearing this voice, however when surrounded by the fluorescent confines of this bathroom, with your underwear soaked and mind blank, your body can't help but tense.

You manage to catch your pacing breath and choke out a weak, "Hi.." into the phone. Your voice sounding much weaker and inferior against the weight of his baritone.

"Are you alone?" His voice trembled slightly, like he was holding back.

Your thighs clench at the sound. Too shy to respond, you nod in response before remembering he can't see you. "I am.."

There’s a pause, and it’s like you can feel him leaning closer, teasingly close.

"Good. Sounds like your still in the bathroom. How about you make your way to their guest room, hm?"

Your skin prickles as if he was really next to you, as if he's in your ear, breath sliding down your throat. Without thinking, you follow his command, allowing the sound of your footsteps to act a signal of your obedience to him.

"I'm laying in the bed now.."

Jun brought your soft lace towards his face and breathed in your scent, although he's been doing it for so long it's started to fade. That doesn't stop him from pulling out his aching cock again, still wet with precum.

"Following my orders, already? How about a second one?"

"What is it?

He is fully fisting his cock now, aware that the sounds must be escaping into your phone speaker yet unable to stop himself upon hearing your voice.

"You're okay with this, right?" "Fuck, please say you are."

You can practically hear his brows knitting together through his voice. God, you wish you could see him pleading for you like this.

"I promise, what's the second order?"

Jun then slides your panties to his lower face and licks a determined stripe along the fabric, letting out a disgusting whine before speaking.

"Be good and let me hear how wet you are."

Your fingers teased with the hem of your panties, as your grinded up into the fabric. That wasn't enough — so you let the pad of your finger slide down the length of your wet cunt.

Jun’s breath hitched, a sharp groan slipping out as he bucked his hips up into his fist, ruined already by the slick sounds you were making for him.

"Does it scare you how much you want this?" Jun's voice is low, strained but authentic.

"It scares me just as much as it excites me." Your words are promptly silenced by a moan as you let a single finger slip past your folds.

Jun takes your panties and threads them back around his cock, fucking the fabric with deep thrusts, his mind only centered around how much better you'd feel.

You can hear the sound of his slick fist through the speaker, wet and obscene, mixing with his low groans. Your back arches instinctively against the hard mattress, your legs spreading wider as you circle your clit with trembling fingers.

“Jun-” you gasp his name, your voice high and shaky.

He groans at the sound, almost guttural. “Fuck, say it again. Say my name like that.”

You do, over and over, until you’re whining it like a chant. No longer giving a fuck if Mingyu or Wonwoo hear.

“I want to be inside you so bad,” he mutters, voice strained and heavy with lust. “I want to feel you clench around me. I bet you’d be so tight—so wet. You’d take me so good, baby.”

Your body reacts before your brain catches up, your fingers pushing inside yourself. The sharp stretch makes you cry out.

Jun hisses. “Fuck, are you touching yourself for me? Are you fucking yourself while I’m not there?”

“Yes. Yes, Jun,” you admit, your voice breaking on his name.

The sound he makes in return is dangerous, deep and ruined. “Good girl. That’s my good girl. Pretend it’s me. Pretend it’s my cock stretching you open.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, doing exactly that. Pretending it’s him. Pretending his weight is pinning you down. Pretending his voice is spilling into your ear instead of through your phone.

“I’d make you beg for it,” Jun growls. “I’d make you beg for my cock before I even let you have it.”

Your thighs shake at his words. You fuck your fingers into yourself harder, sloppier, chasing the sensation.

“Jun please,” you whimper, not even sure what you’re asking for.

He chuckles, dark and dirty. “That’s it. Keep begging. You sound so sweet when you’re desperate for me.”

The noises on his end get faster, more frantic, the sound of his hand gliding over his cock sharp in your ear. You can picture him perfectly. His head tilted back, face flushed, his pretty mouth parted as he ruins himself with your underwear.

“I’m close,” you whisper, your voice nearly breaking.

His reply is instant. “Cum for me. Cum with me. Need to hear how good my voice makes you feel.”

Your climax hits you hard, blinding, as your back arches off the bed. You’re gasping his name like a prayer, holding the phone tight against your ear as if that’ll make him closer.

Jun follows seconds later. His breath stutters, a low moan spilling out of him as he finishes into your panties, his voice so raw and disgusting you know you’ll never forget it.

There’s silence afterward, save for both of you catching your breath.

Finally, his voice cuts through the silence, soft and shaky: “...fuck. I wish you were here.”

Your curiosity won. You gave in, making sure you looked presentable before setting off for the hybe building.

You expect it to be the normal: laughing, hoshi being an idiot and lots of sweat. What you didn't expect was to walk into an unfamiliar practice room. The lights dimmed and the music low. You couldn't even recognise the song but you could recognise it was woozi's voice, however the track was more sultry— sensual, a tone you hadn't heard this intense from him before.

It took your eyes a moment to adjust to the low lights, but once they had, the view was worth the wait.

Hoshi stood in front of the mirror, his eyes not on you. Yet it was obvious he had acknowledged your presence. His eyes stayed focused on himself and his moves as he looked forward fiercly, his beanie pulled down low and crucially, his shirt discarded. His muscles were defined as if they had been carved over hundreds of years, the low lighting emphasising each vein that ran down his arms. And beneath that work of art was a pair of grey sweatpants hanging low around his waist. yes. grey sweatpants. He moved to the rhythm of the song effortlessly, each move further defining the perfect lines of his body.

You scanned the room before noticing woozi. He stood further back, with his arms crossed near the computer, yet still somehow looking as if he was controlling the entire room. Woozi's eyes meet yours briefly as a small smirk plays on his lips before he nods in your direction. He's wearing a black cap with a simple black t-shirt and black shorts, still showing his defined legs and muscly thighs.

They notice you— but don't stop.

You catch Hoshi's demanding gaze in the mirror and he begins to direct his movements towards you before gesturing to a chair set up suspiciously in the middle of the room. Everything about this setup seems far too calculated.

You’re not a guest. You’re prey.

There are no greetings, no explanations, every word is unspoken. Yet, you obey, sitting in the chair as you gulp with anticipation.

Hoshi's steps are controlled as he makes his way closer to you. He's not asking for permission because he knows you've already given into him— both of them.

He takes your thighs into his hands, holding them with a firm grasp before spreading them slightly and sitting himself on your lap. He settles on your lap as if he already owns it. His eyes never leave yours.

"Let him play with you. I want to see what you're worth." You hear the words slowly spill out the mouth of the man behind you two, still standing in the corner with his arms crossed but finally breaking the perfectly suffocating silence.

You feel the flex of Hoshi's muscles through those fucking sweatpants—thick, solid, unyielding. His hips roll once. Slow. Precise. Just the pure pressure of his weight on your body grounds you into the chair. Every sense of yours becomes enraptured with his presence, his scent filling your nose. You can feel the sweat on the surface on his skin, making his bare skin glow in the dim lighting.

And his hips— Hoshi's hips. Each roll of his hips are deliberate and dangerous. They roll slow and deep, like he's fucking the air between you two. It’s not dancing anymore—it’s pornographic, and he knows it.

He holds your chin, directing your face, ordering constant eye contact.

“You breathing okay?” he teases, voice low, chest heaving. Another grind, harder, direct. You jolt. “Thought so.”

You suddenly feel a hand tangle into your hair, yanking it backwards, leaving your neck exposed as Hoshi takes the opportunity to sink his lips onto the delicate skin and suck, leaving determined markings, coaxing out soft moans as his hips continue their plan.

Woozi stands behind you two, watching the scene unfold. His shorts noticeably tighter, and a mic in his hand.

“Start from the top.” “Say your name. Tell me what you’re doing.”

Your mind can't fully comprehend Woozi's words as you let out a stuttered mess.

"Say it. Or I'll stop this entire fucking game and leave you soaked with nothing." Woozi's breath is hot in your ear as he speaks.

Hoshi keeps grinding down onto you, but now its slower, meaner. His hands slides down from holding the back of your neck to slowly reach your inner thighs as you attempt to answer Woozi's request.

"H-Hoshi's on my lap.. Kissing me.. Touching me. And i'm letting you watch." You whisper into the mic, your voice shaking.

You feel Hoshi smirk against your neck as he lets out a low growl and bites down onto your neck lightly, earning a soft whimper to escape you.

"She's twitching. Think she can take both of us?" Hoshi speaks out, his voice still a growl as he breaks away from your neck to look at Woozi, behind you.

"She will. When I say." Woozi replies, his presence a stark contrast to Hoshi. Hoshi is warm— overpoweringly hot and physical. Woozi stays back. Colder, calculated and all control.

The thought of what Woozi proposed plays in your mind without authorisation, the image haunting your mind as your hips subconsciously roll up to meet Hoshi's as if its instinctive.

Hoshi's slender fingers make their way closer to your heat, his fingertips teasing the hem of your underwear under your skirt. The pads of his two fingers slowly reach under the barrier of clothing, brushing against you as you desperately roll your hips in need of friction.

Hoshi continues biting and marking your neck as his two fingers enter you at an agonizingly slow pace.

“That’s it. Let him finger you like a toy—but don’t forget who’s really listening.” Woozi says into your ear, his voice as smooth as velvet but his hot breath prickling your skin and sending shivers down you.

Hoshi pushes his fingers in deeper before angling them upwards and curling them into your most sensitive spot, watching you unravel before them both, curses spilling out your mouth.

“Don’t bite your lip now. Cry for me. Give me something worth keeping.” You can't tell if you are becoming close from Hoshi's skilled fingers or the filth that woozi is swarming your ears with. Everything becomes blurred as you surrender yourself to the moment.

Woozi lowers the mic, past your chest to rest above your lower stomach. "Let's get a better sample." He insists as you can only reply through shaky moans and gasps.

"Fuck she's gonna cum like this?" Hoshi speaks in a low rumble, directed to Woozi. Something about the way they casually discuss you as if you weren't there made you somehow even wetter.

Hoshi's fingering becomes harder, punctuating your stammers as you begin to reach your high. Your gasps become whimpers which become shrieks as you get closer.

"Stop." Woozi suddenly speaks out at a louder volume for Hoshi to hear and he instantly obeys, leaving you on edge.

Woozi steps back to the computer and presses a few keys. You are left breathless, your chest heaving as you recover, feeling slightly betrayed by the two men around you.

Until, the speakers start to play a sound that sounds far too familiar, the moan which had just previously left your lips now resounded through the hollow walls of the practice room as you watched Hoshi's adams apple bob in his throat in front of your face.

"Thats what I want to remember." Woozi growls out.

"Fuck, you like putting on a show.” Hoshi says shakily, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Enough warming up. Face the mirror." Woozi demands, his voice starting to sound less cold and detached, now fueled by a new sense of passion— urgency.

Hoshi instantly gets off you, them working together in synchronisation as Woozi pulls you off the chair and directs you against the mirror, your hands stopping yourself from slamming into the hard material. Hoshi replaces your place as he sits down on the chair, his member standing proud in his grey sweats, creating a tent shape for you both to see.

Woozi's condition isn’t far better in his black shorts as he works your clothes off your body in a desperate manner.

“Look at yourself. See what he did to you?” “You're a fucking mess. And you still want more.”

Your chest was bare now as he shamelessly kneads your breasts in the mirror whilst winking at Hoshi, knowing his preferences and profiting off them to give him the show he deserves.

His hands then slide to take off your remaining clothing, leaving you revealed in front of both the men, completely obedient, completely surrendered.

Woozi then works his hands into your hair again, yanking it back before spitting in your mouth and forcing you to watch yourself.

“Eyes open. I want you to watch every second of what I take from you.”

Behind you, your eyes meet Hoshi, who is now slowly palming himself, clearly fighting the urge to roll his head back in pleasure but not wanting to miss the view.

You're gone. Overwhelmed. Dripping. You've completely melted into Woozi's grasp, completely unbothered by any shame and fully focused on the pleasure which is filling your entire body.

Your eyes close as you become more desperate, until you feel the feeling of something hard poking at your ass from behind. Something bare.

Your eyebrows knit together when you open your eyes to see his size. His eyes stay locked on yours, laced with confidence as his mouth cocks into that stupid smirk again whilst he revels in your reaction.

His cock stands up, the size bigger than any you have ever encountered before, his precum glistening in the practice room lights on his flushed pink tip. He slowly strokes it, teasing you as you study each vein curving round his shaft.

“You don’t even realise how much he’s gonna stretch you, do you?” You hear Hoshi's voice say, his tone is too calm to be innocent— there’s memory in it. Experience. And now it’s your turn.

The implications behind his words leave you speechless as you look in the mirror to see him. He's sitting in the chair, his abs still shining overbearingly as his hand is grasping his shaft. His dick also being an impressive size but having slightly less girth than woozi. Its clear he has been touching himself for a while due to the amount of precum he is spreading across his shaft as he shakes it slightly in your direction as you make eye contact.

“Keep your eyes on me in the mirror. Watch what I do to you.” Woozi whispers in your ear as he delicately nibbles at your earlobe, teasingly.

His rough hands slide up to hold your waist before pushing it forward, causing you to arch and for your hands to land on the mirror, leaving you bent over in front of them both. His hands trail the curve of your ass before he holds his dick, lining it up with your enterance. He slides his tip across your folds, teasing you as subtle moans and shakes leave your throat. He lets his tip glide past your clit which is still sensitive from Hoshi, causing you to jerk forward further.

He takes that oppurtunity of a better angle to slide his dick inside you in one mean thrust. It feels like you are being broken from the inside, every part of you. The stretch being overwhelming causing you no longer to be able to think— only feel. Every thought stuttering with every inch Woozi sinks into you.

Feeling his size so bare, so raw. It's as if you can feel every one of his veins trace through your walls and leave their mark. He finally bottoms out inside of you, and you can feel him pulse deep inside of you.

It's not long before he pulls back again, that feeling immediately hitting you again as his cock scrapes against your walls, splitting you open. Without preparation he slams back inside of you as if he's trying to carve himself in you. Woozi doesn't just fuck you— he erases you.

“Quit watching the show and join in. Touch her. Make her feel both of us.” Woozi demands Hoshi as he drives another harsh thrust into you.

You feel Hoshi take your hand off the mirror and move you back slightly, Woozi already following suit. Woozi's thrusts halt whilst Hoshi repositions you. Hoshi now stands with his back against the mirror whilst taking your chin in his hand directing your mouth to his intimidatingly sized cock.

“Open up. I need you on me now.” Hoshi pleas as he strokes your hair back, away from your face whilst you lick a line up his shaft, teasing him before letting your lips part around his tip.

As soon as your lips part, Woozi's hips pound into you with such force that it knocks the air from your lungs, forcing you to deepthroat Hoshi's dick in one go.

Both the men groan in sync, however your cries get silenced by Hoshi. Yet, each snap of Woozi's hips comes with sound— wet, flithy, sloppy and constant.

Hoshi looks up to see Woozi with his grip bruising your hips with his jaw clenched tight, his veins in his neck standing out and shimmering in a light layer of sweat. His eyes are focused on you, dark, fucking furious with pleasure. His chest is rising rapidly, his muscles tight and twitching with force.

This sight, along with the sight of you, dribbling dumb on his cock, sends him utterly insane.

“You’re just a toy for us to share—don’t forget your place.” Woozi snarled as his sweat drips down from his chest onto you.

His hips snap up again, somehow deeper as he fucks you harder, driving you further on Hoshi's dick whilst you become a mess of moans and gags.

You aren't sure whether you're moaning, gagging or sobbing anymore but that is the last thing that matters to you. Your legs have been trembling for so long yet the utter force being driven into you as you are fucked back and forth by both men is what’s keeping you upright.

Their groans are loud and rough, the lewd sounds echoeing off the mirror as they quicken their pace, somehow in sync again. Your vision is blurry, brain-fogged, body destroyed— yet they are still going.

You feel Hoshi twitch in your mouth as Woozi's pace falters, a gentle signal to you despite their harsh fucks. You don't have to change anything though, they are the ones using you. Woozi slams his dick reaching every sensitive spot as Hoshi bites his lip, almost drawing blood.

When you cum, it's not gentle— it rips through your body. It's wet, ugly, broken. Your eyes roll back, you clench around them both as your body shakes even more.

But they fuck you through your orgasm like it was just a warm-up.

“Look at you—shaking like a desperate mess." Woozi teases as Hoshi scoffs in response.

They don't go easier. They go harder. They go further.

Woozi angles your hips and holds up one of your legs, pushing his pulsating cock back into your sopping pussy as saliva runs down your face from Hoshi who is carving out your throat.

Finally, they can't hold back anymore as they snap together.

Hoshi holds your head down on his dick as he empties out his contents in your throat, urging you to swallow. As this is happening, Woozi gives you one final, brutal thrust before his seed fills you up entirely before he fucks it back into you, your cum mixing and spilling down your thighs.

They both slowly pull out before placing you onto the sofa in the corner, stroking your foreahead softly as they both admire your fucked-out state.

After you broke up with your long-term boyfriend, you had moved back into the house where your mum and Seungcheol lived. However, today you had decided to go out and see your current situationship. Bearing in mind that Seungcheol ordinarily worked late hours, you thought nothing of taking your date back the house.

Laughter filled the doorway as you and your date entered the living room, still reminiscing over the day you had. Seungcheol glanced up from his documents as you came in, raising one of his defined eyebrows upon seeing you in that little black dress which adorned your body, hugging your curves in a seductive manner that was impossible for him to deny. He raised his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose as he gulped, his adams apple visibly moving as his eyes flick to the man by your side, taking in his appearance.

Without thought, your body freezes up from the unexpected meeting between your situationship and Seungcheol, enraptured within the awkward silence. You look towards your side to see your date mirroring the same expression that you wore, only his noticeably containing more fear.

"Who's this then? And why is he in my house?" Seungcheol says with his jaw clenched, successfully attempting to retain a cold front yet not directly making eye contact as his eyes remain busy putting away his documents which decorated the coffee table before him.

Searching for an excuse, the only suitable words you could think of slip out your mouth, "A friend. He's just my friend."

"Is that what they're calling it these days?" Seungcheol questions as he lowers his glasses before discarding them to the side. The heavy weight of his gaze rendering you speechless before you gather your thoughts.

"Well, we are going to go upstairs and.. hang out." You were a grown woman, but something about this man made you feel guilty for having relationships, even though you knew it was justifiable. But was it? The guilt consumed you, it was as if only one look from that man's wide eyes had you under his control, like he could read every thought going through your head and it made your whole body want to surrender to it. It was stupid. But it was undeniable.

You swiftly grab your date's hand and make your way up to your room to escape the tense atmosphere that had unintentionally been created. You were unsure what the room had become tense with, unease from an awkward encounter— it was possible. Yet something about it made your skin hot, a different type of tension which was hard to name but so easy to feel.

In the living room, Seungcheol lets out an exasperated sigh. He can't just allow you to bring boys to his house in the middle of the night. He could feel his irritation growing as the sound of your bedroom door closing could be heard. Without thought, he begins pacing around the living room, debating whether to intervene or not. The thought of each possibility that could be taking place behind that door playing hrough his mind, making his blood boil further with every step.

Clearly, Seungcheol and your date's encounter hadn't affected your date as much as it did Seungcheol. As soon as you enter your bedroom, you are turned against the door in a hurried manner, your back pinned against the cold material. He smirks before his lips make contact with your neck, his rushed kisses travel down your neck from your jaw, gently sucking onto any available skin, leaving marks as a souvenir of his actions. He lightly lets his teeth graze over your delicate skin as you let the inevitable whimper escape your throat.

Despite the thick walls which seperate you, this sound you create is made inarguable to Seungcheol. The protective instincts deep within him surging to the forefront of his mind, blurring any radical thoughts.

Your date's hands slide down from your waist to the hem of your dress, bunching up the fabric as his eyes remain locked onto yours. His hand then travels to your clothed core, teasing your sensitive spot through the fabric, coaxing out subtle, high-pitch moans to leave you.

Cheol clenches his fists, his knuckles turning white. He can't take it anymore. Without proper consideration, he marches up to your room, each step of his becoming a testament to his vigilance. He loosens his tie in frustration before knocking on your bedroom door twice, rage fueling every movement.

"I'm busy..!" You choke out a weak reply, unable to fabricate a reasonable excuse.

"Busy or not, you're going to open this door, sweetheart." Seungcheol says firmly, his voice laced with authority.

Your eyes meet the man in front of you again, filled with confliction from the dilemma you had been placed in. His actions don't halt. His slender fingers continue their journey, outlining the hem of your panties, becoming closer to your heat.

Seungcheol can feel the waves of his impatience growing with every second of silence he is left with, banging on the door with more force. "Countdown, young lady," he says, his voice stern, "5... 4... 3..."

You hurriedly push the man off you as you attempt to fix yourself, tugging down your dress and moving your hair to cover the pattern of hickeys that now accessorised your neck. You watch the doorknob turn at an agonizingly slow pace.

Seungcheol's presence then fills the room, his scent already finding its way to your nose. Seungcheol surveys the state of your appearance— your dress appearing to be slightly wrinkled, your cheeks flushed a rosy-shade and your clear aim to hide something on the side of your neck. His jaw clenches at the sight before he redirects his vision to your date, beside you.

“You.” his voice was low and threatening.

“You have exactly 30 seconds to tell me why you thought it was appropriate to come into my house under the guise of being her ‘friend’ and do who knows what with her in the middle of the night.”

Grabbing your situationship by the arm, you pull him aside from Seungcheol. “We are just hanging out, Cheol.” you ask defensively as you try to avoid his line of vision.

"And what part of 'hanging out' involves leaving marks on your neck, may I ask?" His vision finds you and your eyes lock. His heavy gaze fills you with that same guilt, for no apparent reason.

You are left with no rebuttal, the only words that can fight to leave you are, "Why do you care? I'm an adult."

"Because you are under my care. And because I don't appreciate some boy thinking he can touch you like you're some plaything" His eyes were sharp, encased in authority, his thick, defined eybrows were furrowed and his hand was subconsciously pointing towards you, further highlighting the power he holds in every action of his.

You are left speechless. One reason being your urge to comply with his demands, the command he has over you becoming almost degrading. The other reason being the fact that it was your first time seeing this side of him. You never knew he cared about you to this extent. However, the most alarming concern was the fact that his simple care had managed heighten you arousal in ways you had never experienced before, causing your mind to blank.

Your eyes followed his as they flicked back to your date, his anger visibly flaring up further. "If I see you anywhere near this house again, or even hear your name in connection to my stepdaughter, you'll regret the day you were born."

You accept defeat as you look up apologetically at your date, who you can see is still conflicted. After seconds of contemplation paired with an unwavering stare from Seungcheol, he ultimately has no choice but to say goodbye before Seungcheol hurries him out the door.

"Get over here." He says sternly, gesturing for you to come towards him. His eyes are hard, his body tense with anger and disappointment. His gaze locks on you as you approach him, his eyes narrowing at the sight of your head slightly bowed down.

He reaches out and gently lifts your chin up, forcing you to look at him. "Look at me." He commands you firmly. "What am I going to do with you, sweetheart?"

You leave him with no reply, letting the evident look of shame being worn on your face do the talking.

He tilts his head to the side as his jaw clenches, "Do you have an explanation for me? I think that's the least I deserve."

You still actively tried to avoid his overpowering gaze, however that just led your eyesight upon his arms which were sculpted with such effortless strength. The way they flexed with each subtle movement wasn't just a display of that strength, but a silent promise of safety, of warmth. This forced your eyes back up to his face as you constructed a reply. "I just needed to relieve some stress.."

Unlike you, Seungcheol instantly replied, "So you think that is the best way?"

Every word that left his mouth was dripping in power. It was clear that his intentions stemmed from care but something in his delivery felt demeaning. He took a step closer to you, slowly closing the gap which seperated your bodies.

"There are plenty of other ways to relieve stress and sexual frustration, young lady. You need to start making better decisions, especially when it comes to men." His voice drops a tone deeper, the connotations of his words becoming more apparent as his hand begins to trail up your arm, his touch being light, serving as a harsh contrast to his tone.

"L-Like what?" Your eyes open wide as the question left your lips. You knew what he was referring to, yet your mind wouldn't let you properly comprehend his words, leaving you in denial.

He grits his teeth again, trying to keep his frustration in check. "You really want me to spell it out for you?" He asks, his voice a little rougher. Seungcheol leans in further, his lips now nearly brushing against your ear. "You know exactly what I'm talking about, Sweetheart." He whispers, the heat from his breath sending a shiver through you.

Seungcheol chuckles at your feigned innonence as he gently brushes a strand of your hair away from your face, his fingers barely skimming your skin. His voice drops even lower, his lips now barely an inch from yours. "You really want me to walk you through it, darling?"

You nod as Seungcheol smirks, a hint of amusement in his eyes as he looks at you. "Let me show you then," You then feel his firm, determined hands handle your hips as he spins you to have your back facing him. He whispers, his hand gently grabbing her wrist and guiding it to the hem of her dress. "Close your eyes, Sweetheart."

Your eyes close and he continues to guide your hand, slowly easing it under your dress, his own hand still lightly gripping your wrist. "Feel how soft your skin is." He whispers, his low and sultry voice going straight to your core.

He smiles slightly, his lips brushing against your earlobe as he murmurs "Good girl. Now, keep your eyes closed and focus on how it feels." His hand slowly moves yours higher, over your thigh. He takes his time guiding it higher, the heat radiating off your skin as he moves. "That's it, darling." He whispers, his voice low and thick with desire.

Your mouth shyly hangs open at the overwhelmingly tense atmosphere that had been created as seungcheol gently pushes your fingers towards the edge of your panties. "Now, feel how warm you are underneath there." The new command leaves his mouth, his voice a mixture of husk and authority.

Seungcheol's hand is still wrapped around your wrist as he guides you to gently push against your most sensitive area. "Do you feel that?" his words sound expressionless yet you can tell his is refraining himself with every word.

"It's wet." You speak out, your words barely forming.

His breath catches in his throat at your words, a low moan escaping his lips as he feels the heat from your body. He's trying to keep his composure but the way your voice quivers and your reaction to his actions makes it nearly impossible.

"Does it feel better than when you do it on your own, darling?" He asks, his voice a low rumble as you nod eagerly, completely lost in his touch.

Seungcheol smirks as his grip on you slightly tightens. "That's right, darling. And do you know whos relieving that stress for you?"

"You.. You are." He begins to leave a trail of slow kisses on your neck as you speak, your body still pressed against his as he controls your movements.

"Good girl." He says with a large exhale, "And do you want me to keep helping you with that stress, darling?" His words a followed by your head nodding again, growing with desperation.

At your signal of consent, you feel him move your fingers lower, until he pushes them into your core, the sudden pleasure forcing a moan from your body as you melt into his grasp. He keeps you up steady, one of his hands snaked around your waist, the other on your wrist and his head in the crook of your neck from behind.

The deep warmth from his breath slowly fanned across the side of your neck with every exhale he took and sent shivers down to your core. His scent filtered through the air of your bedroom and reached your nose filling it with his prominant, primal smell.

The feeling of you slowly losing every one of your senses and completely unravelling in his touch, was one that Seungcheol found hard to contain. Every slight jerk of your wrist by him had you arching against him and convulsing eagerly around yourself.

His eyes remained half-lidded shaded by lust as they found yours in the mirror opposite you. You hadn't noticed the view that was displayed in front of you yet but god had Seungcheol noticed it. It showed you with your head rolled back onto Seungcheol's broad, steady shoulders which led down to his thick biceps decorated in veins, which were the only thing keeping you upright as it led to his hand grasping your wrist— much smaller in comparison, and that wrist led to your lips spread apart with the dim light catching the moisture.

You could view Seungcheol's gaze, his eyes which were now focused on your body as his pace increased. That gaze which consumed you. You needed this man. You needed your stepdad. That confession made you submit fully as you let out trails of whimpers.

Seungcheol's breath hitches as he feels you moving your hips, grinding down onto your own fingers that were penetrating you, his own body reacting to your actions as he feels his trousers tighten somehow further.

You feel it— you feel all of it. The added sensation of the feeling of his dick against your ass only through the barrier of clothing sending you close to the edge.

"You're getting close, aren't you? I'm getting you there, just a little more." Seungcheol winces at the thought of his own fingers being the ones you were clenching around but promptly redirects his attention back to guiding your fingers to make you finish.

Your eyes close but Seungcheol's stay firmly in the mirror, watching your chest rise rapidly as your body vibrates back onto him and his bulge. Overcome by pleasure, you melt into Cheol's grasp. He feels a warm liquid trail down from your wrist to his hand.

"Don't worry about that, darling. I'll take care of it." He gently guides your hand to his plump lips and slowly licks your fingers clean, his tongue licking a line from your wrist before sucking it off your fingertips. He lets out a series of low moans as he tastes her on his tongue, the action making him shiver. "You taste so sweet, baby."

He can tell you are taking your time to process what just happened, the switch from your distant stepfather always working when you see him to him now licking your cum as his eyes never leave yours in your bedroom mirror. Reassuring you, he states, "I know what my little girl needs, and I'm more than happy to provide."

"More-" Is the only word which can escape your throat. Your voice is shaky, your lips parted and your thighs still shaking. It's a command yet in this circumstance, that word couldn't sound less pathetic— it was more of a plea. A desperate plea which was the only word your mind could think as you felt Seungcheols tip rubbing the curve of your ass through his sexy work trousers.

"More?" His determined arms spin you around to face him as he begins walking forward, forcing you to walk back. “After I just watched you fall apart for me without even touching you?” His words are laced with a layer of almost disgust, putting you in your place. "My greedy little girl." With his final words, he stops moving. You now stood with your ass perched against the side of your desk, arms leaning behind you for support as Cheol towered down over you. Your arms shook with a flash of hesitation from the act you were about to comit.

"Don't get shy now~" His words sound like they are spitting down at you. "You brought a boy to my house." "Now you are going to learn what a man feels like, understood?"

You gulp and reply, your voice barely a whisper "Understood, teach me.." Your request was immediately followed by a growl from Sengcheol by your neck, "Oh i plan to."

His actions don’t give you a moment to second-guess. Your desk jerks under you as he turns you around again, the tent in his trousers grazing against your behind. His other hand slides up your inner thigh from behind, to carress your ass bent over in front of him this time with purpose, not guidance.

“I’m going to fuck every trace of him out of you.” He says it like a promise. Like a threat. Like something he’s enjoying too much.

You nod, too breathless to speak. You can hear the sound of his belt unbuckling and all you can do is pray your mum doesn't come home.

His fingers pull your underwear to the side like they were never meant to be there. The next second, he’s inside you in one slow, cruel thrust.

Your head tips back with a gasp. You thought this was going to be a normal fuck but god were you so undoubtedly wrong. His slow thrust leaves you feeling lightheaded as you become accustomed to the harsh pain. The feeling of him splitting you apart raw was one that only in this moment could you realise that you had been craving so deeply.

“That’s it,” he groans, his hands gripping your ass, with a sudden smack. “Now take it. Take all of it. Like my good little girl.”

You can feel the assuring weight of him on your back as he leans down to angle his thrusts even harder, already reaching your most sensitive spots with ease just from his size and precision. Fuck, your mum was lucky but you couldn't even think about that in this moment as you were so consumed by the pleasure he was delivering you.

The sounds of your bedroom were becoming more lewd with every thrust. The combination of the wet slapping skin, your cries of pleasure and Cheol's gravelly moans would make what you are currently doing completely apparent if anyone were to enter the house, or even walk past the street at this point.

"You shouldn’t want this." Seungcheol punctautes each word with a thrust, "But you do. Just like I do."

His hand reaches round to grab your neck, with the feeling of his cold wedding ring slightly scratching at your skin.

"You’re gonna let me ruin you while wearing this ring?" Your moans become a trail of incoherent whimpers as he speaks, "Go ahead. Feel it. Doesn’t change a fucking thing."

You look around to meet his harsh gaze as his eyes lock onto yours and he lets you feel seen through a deep sudden thrust which knocks you further onto the desk, the furniture creaking making a sound which he seems to enjoy by the smirk on his lips.

"Do you think she ever gets me like this? Hm?" His thrusts become harder yet begin to falter. "No. Only you."

From his confession, you clench, feeling yourself become overwhlemed with pleasure. His cock seems to somehow hit even deeper in his determined pace.

Seungcheol can feel you clench tight around him and it's better than he could've ever imagined, his cock is pulsating as he pistons it into you without control, building to his release. He holds your hips steady, smacking your ass before gripping the skin of your hips and bringing you back onto him as he thrusts, the impact driving higher pitched screams from you.

You become completely immobile as he guides you as if he owns you—as if he was actually yours. You feel the rough, brutal pace build as you can no longer handle the pressure. Your eyes roll back as the feeling consumes you and you make a mess all over his dick.

He doesn't pull out. He fucks you harder. He somehow fucks you further. Fully focused on his release until he gives you one final thrust into overstimulation before filling you. His warm liquid spreads throughout your insides and you are left fully fucked out. He crashes into your back, resting his weight upon you as he breathes heavily onto the back of your neck.

Despite the date fizzling out, you still hadn't wanted to go to bed alone. And you certainly didn't want to lose the oppurtunity to gain a rise out of your roomate, Seungcheol. He was superior to your current date in every aspect. Seungcheol was stronger, more masculine, polite and more respectful. However, at times you found him a bit too respectful. He was sociable and popular but when you two were alone he always seemed more quiet, completely unreadable except the rare times when a polite yet enigmatic smile would be displayed onto his lips. Yet you couldn't act like those slight crumbs he gave you didn't constantly replay in your mind.

Even at times like this, cornered by a man overlooking your frame, the strong cologne invading every one of your senses. Even in this situation, your mind remained focused on the man who resided down the hallway, his room being within earshot of your drunken endeavour.

You break your lips apart from your date, panting due to his enthusiastic style, and direct him to your room. As you both venture down the hallway, bodies still entwined, your eyes lock onto the closed door owned by Seungcheol. That silence that existed in his room far too familiar for your liking.

This night you were determined to break that silence. With every mediocore movement and thrust carried out by your date, your reaction heightens. Your exaggerated moans paired with the steady, almost rhythmic thump of your headboard against the wall, assured you of an awaiting reaction. Fuelled by your hope for a falter in your roommate's polite exterior, you reach your almost theatrical "climax".

You then clean up and promptly bid your date farewell, your aspiration to see Seungcheol catalysing the speed of your movements. Seungcheol was awake. He had to be. How could anyone sleep through the show you had just displayed? Your curiousity outweighed your apprehension as your feet led you to his door, followed by an uneven knock.

Seungcheol studied your appearance as you entered before he had the chance to grant you permission. Your dress ,which had clearly been rushed onto your body, rode up your thighs and your hair was a mess. His eyes squint and you expect a comment, but all you are left with is a raise of an eyebrow followed by the question, "You done?".

It was a simple question but his tone sends a chill through you. After swiftly recomposing yourself, you attempt to manoeuvre an alternative reaction from him as your smirk before stating, "Sorry. Thin walls."

You could see Seungcheol's jaw clenching as the trail of words left your lips yet his expression remained hidden by the veneer of nonchalance he always wore.

"You're awfully quiet," you remark, taking a step further into the room uninvited, your eyes flickering to the unread book that was abandoned on his lap. "Did I interrupt something?"

Seungcheol doesn't answer right away, letting the silence in the room sit as he watches your appearance again, each factor telling a different story, inviting him to view how your night went. He examined every wrinkle in your dress, every smudge of your lipstick and every mark left by that man. Even when comprehending your state, his face remained still. That unreadable expression— calm, mannerly.

"Nothing important," He finally replied, voice low and clearly affected by the lack of sleep you were causing him.

You fold your arms, feigning indifference. He's not going to give you what you want. Not easily. However you were not one to give up that easily either.

The next night, you decided to raise the level. After stepping out the shower, your gaze fixes on your reflection as you wrap your body in a towel that just about covers your frame. You tentatively reach for the door handle and exhale a sigh of anticipation, a signal of the effect that man has on you.

The living room becomes your new surrounding as you enter the presence of Seungcheol, who had been watching tv. His eyes flicker between you and the tv, his eyes fighting to appreciate your body which was somewhat exposed. The atmosphere was thick with desire, however when it came to Seungcheol, you could never be sure.

Your hands trailed accross the back of the sofa next to his, aiming to assess the situation and the extent to which you need to heighten your pursuits.

His eyes meet yours for a moment. Just for a moment before he instinctly loooks away. Although, it was long enough for you to notice the way his jaw ticks and his fingers clench just barely— but he doesn't move.

Despite your irritation flourishing, you take his composure as an invitation to challenge his limits even further. Now was your chance to really test him.

You pull back and go to your room, that decision in itself being strategic. You scour your wardrobe before slipping into the smallest pajamas you own, the silk fabric running against your soft skin as you pull it over your curves. The fabric hugging your body close yet covering so little. The moment the garment touches your skin, you feel empowered. A new sense of confidence being established within you as you check over your appearance in the mirror for the final time.

The silence in the room feels heavy, as if it was almost mocking you in your final attempt to grab Seungcheol's attention. You feign an excuse—water, maybe a snack before stepping out of the confines of your room, the cool air kissing your thighs as the gentle silk clings to your skin.

Each step becomes a mixture of casual and calculated as you aim for the fridge. You allow your mind to focus on the low hum of the fridge as you feel Seungcheol's gaze on you. The awareness of your body and how the hem of your shorts is riding up your body leads you to bend down to reach the glass.

That's when you hear it. The slight sound of fabric moving against the leather material of the sofa, indicating that Seungcheol is now standing. This sound is then followed by the sound of him clearing his throat. The game is finally over. You won.

"You don't have to play games with me." His once-cold voice now sounds unfamiliar. In this moment, his voice transformed into one that was deeper, laced with lust. Finally his polite persona had cracked.

Turning around, you stumble back upon seeing that he was much closer than you anticipated. He steps in time with you, mirroring your actions until you make impact with the counter, your grip on the glass of water tightening. His eyes look into yours, the usual calm indifference replaced by something else— something darker. It was as if he had finally let out the desire that had been simmering underneath his manners.

"You're done showing off. You want attention? You'll ask for it like a good girl."

Your throat dries instantly, your courage faltering under the sheer weight of his presence. His voice isn't raised. There's not a single hint of threat behind his words. Just certainty. Authority. As if he has already figured you out and is just waiting for you to admit it. He's not playing anymore.

His advances strip the confidence from your tongue as he lifts you onto the counter. The feeling of his large, capable hands on your bare thighs already making your legs weak. When you are safely seated on the counter, his grasp on your under-thigh lightens as he brings his fingers to trace light patterns on your upper thigh as his right hand reaches to hold your jaw. Yet he doesn't kiss you— not until you ask.

"Tell me what you want," He murmurs. "Use your words for me."

The task he sets you seems entirely unaccomplishable when paired with his overpowering glare. That is until you force the words out of your throat, your desire overriding your hesitation.

"I want you, Cheol. All of you."

His stare lingered, thicker than before. He scanned your body as if you were his most precious possession and he was constraining himself to be able to properly cherish you. His hand that once rested on your thigh now snaked around your waist to hold your bodies closer. The heat from your bare skin met his as the distance between your bodies grew smaller and your lips finally touched.

The kiss wasn't rushed or fuelled by lust. Instead, it was slow, passionate, every movement of his lips felt crafted with precision as you moved in harmony together. He was painfully slow, as if he was savouring your taste and he was unbearably delicate as if he was worried he could break you.

Every graze of his skin against yours sent shivers down your body as you began to fall apart in his grip. His lips parted from yours but his firm grip stayed on your jaw, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him.

"You wanted attention," he mutters, breath hot against your skin. "Now you're going to take it."

As your mind was comprehending his words, he knelt down, positioning his hot breath to fan against your clothed core. His wide, dark eyes lift to yours, full of quiet want as if hes drinking in every inch of you from below. "Can I..?" He asks gently, his voice like honey, seeping out his mouth little by little and you nod eagerly.

His strong hands, defined with harsh veins that contrast to his gentle touch, drag down the waistband of your pajama shorts, letting gravity slide the silk fabric across your skin until they hit the polished kitchen tiles.

His breath hitches at the apparent sight of your lack of underwear as he takes a moment to marvel in your beauty. He holds onto you lightly to move you further up the counter, closer to him. His grasp steadily travels to your thighs as he begins to hold them apart before whispering a quiet request, "Stay still like this for me."

His eyes stay locked on yours as he leans closer, his tongue meeting your heat. He moans in immediate response to your taste as he exlores you, his tongue leisurely taking its time to drag against your core, licking a cruelly slow line up to your most sensitive spot. It's nothing like you have ever experienced before and it's as though every one of your senses is heightened.

His plump lips close around your clit before his swirling his tongue around the bundle of nerves. He takes his time, dictating the pace as he contains your pleasure. It's not like he's making out with your pussy, instead its as though he's tasting you for his own pleasure, devouring you somehow at such a controlled tempo.

Every flick of his tongue pushes you further, your hands rested behind you on the counter, stabilising you as your back arches into his touch. Your thighs threaten to close due to the overwhelming pleasure but Seungcheol's strong, assuring grip keeps them parted. He plunges his tongue into your dripping core, his grasp on your thighs tightening as he feels your walls surround his tongue. His nose bumps your clit sending pleasure jolting through your body, so close to sending you over the edge until he retrieves his tongue from your pussy. You've wanted this, begged wihtout words, and now every slow movement feels like a punishment and reward in one.

He focuses his mouth back on your clit as he lifts his fingers to let two of them enter inside you. His gaze rises to meet yours as he lets both his fingers inside you at once. His mouth rests slightly open as he surveys your reaction to every one of his slight movements. You watch him gulp, his eyes never leaving you as he begins to pump his thick fingers into you.

His fingers reach deep into you, hitting spots that no one else could. You knew Seungcheol would be good, but you had never expected him to be this capable. The feeling of being full pushes your head to fall back as you lose yourself in the sensation.

Seungcheol finally rips his eyes of you as he tastes your clit again. He lets his tongue work on your sensitive spot whilst still maintaining an inhumane pace with his fingers. He can tell you're getting close with every clench of yours around his fingers, yet he lets his face remain calm as you fall apart in front of him.

Your consciousness fades into insignificance as all you can focus on is the immense feeling. Your body twitches with pleasure with each new flick of his tongue and each new thrust of his fingers. It's all too much as your eyes squeeze shut and your limbs lose all strength and you become undone.

You barely register the shift until you're cradled in his arms, pressed to his chest like a precious belonging, his mouth near your ear, a promise hidden in every breath. Still recovering from your high, your ears don't register the sound of his heavy footsteps guiding you to his room. That is until he gently places you in the centre of the bed, the plush matress meeting your skin as you relish in the feel of the cotton in contrast to the dense counter you were previously placed on.

Seungcheol climbs over you, caging you between his muscular arms that were planted on either side of your head. His eyes roam over your face, not asking, just taking you in— as if he needs to memorise your face before he ruins you.

"You're mine tonight. Is that okay with you?" His voice remains low and calm, contradicting what he is about to do to you. He waits for your reply patiently, allowing for you to collect your thoughts.

"Yes. Please Cheol, let me be yours right now." You say, your voice a faint whimper when compared to his stubborn composure.

His hand skims up your thigh, pushing your leg higher. He then sits up, slowly unbuckling his belt as he remains looking down at your pathetic frame. He throws the belt to the other side of the room in an instant, a reminder of his physical superiority to you in strength and how he could treat you if he wanted. Yet he doesn't, depsite his strength he treats you with such care which you weren't fully sure if you even deserved.

His sweats come off next, succumbing to the same fate as his belt. This leaves his boxers, his large bulge stretching against the fabric as you notice a slight stain of precum towards the end of the impressive length. Not only did he have an impressive length, but his girth is what really stood out to you. You see him fight back a smile at your reaction to his size before he slips out of the boxers as well.

His length hit just bellow his belly button, bouncing up with a faint sound at the collision of skin. He was perfect. He presses his hips between yours, slowly, like he was settling into something he's been craving for far too long. Watching him in this position feels surreal, exceeding any prior expectations.

"Look at me," he says, his voice barely a whisper. "I want you to know exactly who's fucking you."

His voice makes your mind go blank again as he finally sinks into you, with a groan that sounds almost like relief— as if he had been holding back his desires until this very moment. The stretch causes you to cover your mouth as it blurs the line between pain and pleasure. Seungcheol grabs your hand and pins it to the side of your head as he continues to slowly inch into you. The feeling of him dragging against your walls as he finally bottoms out leaves you in a state of awe.

He buries his face into your neck, and for a second, he just breathes. The weight of his body on yours making you feel owned, not just taken. "You don't know what you do to me," Seungcheol murmurs into the crook of your neck as he pulls out again, the unbearable strech becoming more familiar. His voice is calm but his hands shake slightly, signalling that he is not unaffected.

This time he slams into you, his strength becoming more brutal as his self-contol leaves him. His vigour drives a trail of moans and curses out your lips as he groans low. In just one thrust, he can manage to hit every spot at once, leaving you emotionally speechless yet physically screaming.

He finally increases his restrained pace, abandoning his sense of discipline as he drives his cock into you. This time you can finally moan out his name, and when you did you were guaranteed a reaction by the man. His grasp travels to your hips as he firmly keeps you in place, angling up slightly as he proceeds with his ruthless tempo.

Every thrust knocks the air out of your lungs along with cries of his name. He has to hold your body close to his to prevent you from shifting due to the amount of strength he is driving into you. You feel tears forming in your eyes, but that doesn't stop him, and neither do you want him to stop. He slams into you further, the sound of your skin hitting becoming background noise as you begin to reach your inevitable high. Its as if the world is narrowing down to all the sensations overwhelimg you. The weight of Seungcheol on you, the sound of his breaths and groans, his steady yet overpowering rhythm. All these factors are pushing you to your release, there was no way you could hold back. Not like this.

His fingers lace into your hands as they begin to tremble, "Breathe. Breathe for me." You listen to his command as he guides you through your high, unlike any other man has done for you. His pace somehow quickens even further, pushing you into a place of ecstacy as he moves back to watch you fall apart with him.

The feeling crashes over you in waves as you surrender to the pleasure with him. You both become undone as you feel him release into you, his cum spreading out and warming your insides, creating a new sense of intimacy.

He doesn't move right away. He keeps you close as all you can do is cling to him. He brushes your hair out of your face before capturing your lips in a short, sweet kiss. "You okay?" He mutters, barely audible.

You countlessly attempted to ignore your boyfriend’s hovering gaze as you engaged in conversation, but his lingering eyes only made you want to push him further. You had calculated the perfect time to swiftly glide your hand over Hoshi’s arm, amidst laughter.

Too subtle for Hoshi to notice. Too close for Woozi not to notice.

You witnessed the darkening of your partners eyes as the enthusiasm in your response to Hoshi's words increased. You knew how to push his buttons and you’d be an idiot to not prioritise of this fact.

As the alcohol in your glass refilled, the weight of your head became more prominent and the outside world faded into obscurity whilst your head lay, resting upon Hoshi’s shoulder. You let the fluorescent bar light’s deep hum blur your senses as you rolled your head in need of comfort, not noticing the contact of your lips on Hoshi’s bare shoulder caused by your adjustment.

This was until you were promptly awoken from your drunken haze as a glass of water slammed down onto the space in front of you, the contents of the glass slightly pouring over edges and dripping into the accumulating puddle which began to decorate the table.

“Sober up.. now, please.” Woozi spoke with little expression which was also paired with the humourless line his lips were now pursed into.

You were met with these cold words which alone fought against the seductive call of your intoxicated daze. However, despite your consciousness, Hoshi picked up the glass and fed it into your mouth, you maintained eye contact with the man out of shock at his sudden action although Jihoon had already read your actions differently.

In a matter of seconds, you were whisked out of your seat, the glass remaining in Hoshi’s hand, as you landed in the grasp of Jihoon who directed you towards his car.

Once you arrived in your seat, silence, along with the steady beat of your heart were the only sounds occupying the car.

“What kind of game are you playing?” Jihoon’s words sliced through the air like a sudden, cold breeze leaving goosebumps along your exposed arms.

You didn’t know how to reply so you didn’t. Even if you had replied, the loud rev of the engine would have rendered your words inaudible. With every turn of the wheels you could view your boyfriend’s patience thinning, until you finally reached the door of your apartment.

The slam of the door closing was followed by Jihoon’s speech.

“Do you enjoy acting like a slut for my friends then?”

His vulgar language caught you by surprise, however you would have been lying if you said it wasn't the reason why you had been rubbing your thighs together. It wasn't abnormal for Woozi to swear but he had never directed that language towards you.

You turned to the side as a signal of opposition before replying, “You’re overreacting, i wasn’t even as close as you normally are with him.” You left the statement with a roll of your eyes which you knew was a mistake as soon as you did it. Yet, that didn’t explain the excitement which enraptured you within the same moment.

Jihoon pushed you against the wall wihtout hesitation, your back facing him. You could feel his sturdy grip on your arms, guiding his action, which made you feel utterly powerless in the dynamic.

“If you’re gonna act like a whore, then i’ll have to treat you like one too.” Jihoon whispered slowly into your ear, his front pressed against your back as his lips lightly graze the back of your ear with every word. You melted into his touch, this new pleasure seemingly overwhelming when paired with the apparent bulge pressing into your skirt from behind.

This light touch stemmed into slow, measured kisses which worked their way from your ears to venturing down your neck, his heavy breath following the same path and sending shivers down you to your core. You couldn’t move even if you wanted to, his strength easily overpowering yours as he kept you remained against the wall without faltering.

His fingers trailed tentatively down your arms until they intertwined with your hands before twisting you to face him. The heavy weight of his gaze left you speechless. His eyes appeared to be overcome by rage mixed with desire, clearly mentally undressing you with every flick of his vision. This eye contact didnt last long before his grip sweeped back up your revealed arms, retracing his previous actions before his fingers began teasing the hem of your top. Your mind went blank as he slid off your top and attached his mouth onto one of your nipples.

You let your head fall against the wall as you arch your back into his touch. His arm slided behind your waist to hold you closer as he explores your chest with his mouth, his other hand kneading your breast.

He detached his mouth to let out a few hurried words before making contact with the other.

“I’m so much better than him.”

He kisses your breasts messily between words, his voice coming out muffled yet his power is still present through every word leaving his mouth.

“We both know he’d never be able to make you feel the things I do”

“He wouldn’t have the power to turn you into the needy slut you end up as with me, huh?”

You moan into his words, his voice controlling your body. His knee rose between your legs as he allowed you to grind down in desperation for friction. His hand promptly replaced his knee as he frantically pulls your panties down, mirroring your eagerness.

“Hm, are you this wet from me or is it from Hoshi?”

His voice makes you go numb as you choke out a pathetic reply,

“Y-You”

Jihoon enters one of his fingers inside you at your response before speaking again, as a smirk forms with his words.

“Who was it? Sorry i missed that.”

You desperately try to form the sentence he desires but all that escapes you is a moan.

“Awh, are you really that affected by just one of my fingers?” Jihoon adds a second finger. “Come on, tell me i’m better than him and maybe you’ll get more than just my fingers”

You hold onto his shoulder to steady yourself as you force the words out of yourself.

“It’s you. Jihoon. You make me feel like this. Hoshi couldn’t.” You manage to spill the words out but you are only met with Jihoon’s low chuckle as feedback.

“Do you really think a slut like you deserves to get fucked on my cock?” He speaks before pushing up your skirt, the fabric collecting in his grasp as he takes you along with him to his desk.

He pushes you onto the desk as you stumble back in attempt not to damage any of his music equipment. He promptly undoes his belt before dropping his clothing. You are met with the sight of his bulge, straining against the fabric of his underwear before it’s pulled down and revealed to you.

His length stands up proudly, veins decorating the sides as they travel up his shaft until they ultimately reach his rosy-shaded tip, precum seeping out, acting as an invitation for you. He cocks an eyebrow at your reaction before pulling you onto his lap. He steadies your hips above him as you prepare to sink down and adjust to his great size.

"Don't you need a condom, Hoonie?" You murmur out through half-lidded eyes.

This thought process is swiftly stolen from you as he forces you to take him all at once. The stretch of his dick carving out your insides as every vein drags against your most sensitive spots becoming overwhelming. You attempt to move back up but he holds you still.

“Remember what I said. You don’t deserve it, do you?”

“You’re gonna stay right here until I say so, understood?”

You only respond with a weak nod as Jihoon’s hands work their way to his mouse. The only sound you are left with is the clicking of his keyboard and the slight remnants of music which escape his headphones. You always found him the sexiest when he was working on his music, but now that attraction only appeared to be torture. Yet you were aware he was still affected, he remained hard, and every twitch left you squirming, pleading for more.

The sound of him turning off his computer acted as the saviour to your desperation as he finally looked towards you again. Your eyes finally locking again as you choke back a moan at his length twitching inside you, pushing at your insides, making you weak again.

“Have you learnt your lesson?” He asked, his words sounding warmer yet his tone still remained just as cold as your previous interaction.

“Please— Jihoon. I just want 𝘺𝘰𝘶.”

At your words he stood up and pushed you around to face the equipment on his desk. He allowed no time for you to prepare yourself before he slid his length into you once again, providing you with the sensation you had been longing for. His hand lay rested upon your back as he pushed you down further, allowing for the optimum angle for him to reach as deep as possible with every thrust. His pace remained constant, drilling into you at a speed which made you question if he was human. His hips rolled against you in the motion you had seen him display countless times when dancing. The same motion that pushed you forward with every thrust whilst forcing the moans out of your throat. The same motion that proved who you really belonged to.

It seemed as though your thoughts coincided with eachothers as the overlapping sounds of your moans and skin meeting with every push which had been creating a symphony of passion was interrupted by the sounds caused by his ringtone. You felt Woozi's hand cover your mouth yet his thrusts didnt falter as he answered the phone.

“What do you want, Hoshi?” You heard your boyfriend call out as he quickened his pace, driving you further into his desk.

Your eyes widened at the realisation of who was on the other side of the phone. Instantly, you attempt to silence your uncontrollable moans, being aided by Woozi's hand. Your attempt proved to be futile due to the sheer speed and depth possessed by Woozi.

“I’ll deal with it tomorrow.” Jihoon states coldly into the phone as he punctuates each word with a thrust before releasing his hand from your mouth, allowing the trail of moans to travel through the phone and into Hoshi’s ears before he hangs up.

“That’ll remind him who you belong to..” You hear your boyfriend mutter as he holds onto your hips, his pace not even close to halting as he feels you clench tighter. Your boyfriend's brutal pace, paired with the control he holds over you in this moment as he selfishly claims you, pushes you further.

“You close, huh?” He speaks out into the room, aware of the way your body works as you nod into the desk you are bent on, nudging his mic further. His thrusts begin to hold more power behind them yet his pace becomes messier. His grasp travels from your hip to your hair as he pulls it lightly, causing your back to arch along with his action.

This action causes you to hiss out in pain, however at this point the line between pain and pleasure had been made indistinguishable. You feel your pleasure building with every knock against your body. Woozi leans down over your back, hugging you from behind whilst kissing patterns on your upper back and his movements somehow reaching even deeper. You sqeal out as your body locks and your eyes roll back.

Woozi doesn’t stop. His movements pick up as he works towards his high with you. You can feel him twitch inside you before he leaves with with one final thrust, emptying his contents inside you. Your knees become weak as you are left unable to move on his desk. Reluctantly, he pulls out, leaving you with a single stream of his cum seeping out of you as your mind remains blank.

Woozi gathers your hair for you before turning you around to place a gentle kiss on your forehead.