NO LONGER WRITING

you sit up, crawling to the edge of the mattress to look down at him. over the years, it feels like a muscle-bound monster has slowly crawled itself out from under the bed, replacing the soft boy you used to control. although, as you look at his flushed face, you know he is still entirely your captive. you reach out, tangling your fingers tight into his hair and pulling his head back roughly, forcing him to hiss from the impact.

"look at you," a cruel smirk playing on your lips. "look at how huge you've gotten. all those thick muscles... and you're still just a pathetic and needy little dog for me, aren't you, sannie?"

a quiet whine tears from his throat at the words, his lips parting and… he loves it. he is absolutely addicted to the way you can still overpower his mind even when he could easily crush you with his hands.

"y-yes... yes, angel," san whimpers, his hands twitching at his sides because he doesn't know where to put them, completely flustered by your sudden dominance. "please, tell me what to do…. i don’t want to be the reason you are unsatisfied."

"unzip your pants," you command, releasing his hair. "and don't you dare touch yourself. you're going to eat me out, sannie. and you better do it perfectly, or i'm leaving you hard and aching all night."

your boyfriend listens to your every word, hurriedly stripping his pants down to his thighs, as he buries his face directly between your heavenly gates, his tongue working hungrily. he is whining so goddamn loud against your soaking folds, swallowing your juices while ruthlessly abusing your hole. you reach down, gripping his hair again to push his face even harder against you, forcing him to take everything you give him. your touch turns him completely chaotic; broad shoulders are tense, biceps flexing as his fingers claw into the bedsheets, yet he is completely submissive beneath you, his lower half grinds desperately against the edge of the mattress, a stain of pre-cum already spreading across his thick and veiny cock.

when a toe-curling orgasm hits you, you moan loudly into the empty air and pull back to look down at him: his chin is completely coated in your slickness, his cheeks flushed bright red from being suffocated against your thighs. yet, he just smiles up at you, his dimples showing beautifully through his desperation. 

"did i do well, princess?" san whispers, his voice shaky, and desperately begging to hear your praise. "please, baby, tell me... tell me that i did well for you."

but you don’t praise him just yet.

you push him back onto the mattress, flipping the dynamic entirely as you straddle his lap. guiding his aching cock to your entrance, you sink down all at once, taking every single inch of his monstrous size inside your tight walls. san lets out a loud sob, his fingers instantly going to hold onto your waist, as you begin to ride him ruthlessly. he tries to suppress his moans, biting his lower lip just like he used to when he was younger, but you make it impossible.

"ah, fuck– baby, please! it's too much, i'm so sensitive," san cries out, completely honest with his feelings, unable to hide how quickly you bring him to the edge. "i can't hold it– d-don't stop, please, don't stop…"

keeping your eyes locked onto his captivated gaze as you fuck him — reminding him that no matter how big he gets at the gym and how much strength he develops, his free will belongs entirely to you.

san’s sensitive body can’t take the brutal depth of your control; his lower abdomen goes completely rigid beneath you, and with a strangled cry of your name, he loses his mind. bucking his hips upward as he shoots load after load deep inside you, as he surrenders his entire being to his beautiful angel. he clings to you tightly, panting and broken, knowing that no matter what he does, he will never be able to leave the hands that trained him.

❝ you put a leash on my heart, nail it in place ❞

MINGI has been incredibly busy lately, which has unfortunately led to you being ignored for far longer than you can handle. neglected, if you want to be completely honest with yourself. you absolutely despise being left on seen, and your boyfriend's sudden radio silence has left a bitter taste in your mouth.

he has that towering height that commands respect in every room he walks into, but you know exactly how to make that giant man whine like a helpless baby behind closed doors. what he doesn't expect you to do is show up at his sanctuary. you march straight into the kq entertainment building, as you pull out your phone to send him a single text: you have two minutes.

you deliberately give him a brief head start to hide or flee; the choice is entirely his. it becomes an instant chase through the labyrinthine hallways, like a horror movie where the monster slowly tracks down its prey. the terror turned the giant wolf into a completely helpless chick the exact second you corner him back inside his own studio, locking the door behind you.

he can't even utter a word of explanation when you literally put a leash on him. you launch forward, your hand wrapping around his warm throat, squeezing just enough to force a breathless gasp from his lips. ruthlessly pinning his broad frame flat against the soundproofed wall, punishing his days of neglect with bruising kisses and gnawing nail marks that sink straight into his collarbones. thank god this room is entirely soundproofed, because the sudden way he begins to whine and whimper under your hands is absolute music to your ears.

the big guy is feeling incredibly small under the crushing weight of your dominant touch and cold gaze. you want to be mean to him, you want to make him feel the exact phantom ache of the loneliness he inflicted on you. pulling the collar of his shirt, yanking him down until you are completely face to face, your noses brushing as you glare into his eyes. 

"so, you want to ignore me, huh, mingi?” your voice drops to a quiet hiss, dripping with anger. ”you want to ignore your sweet girlfriend who cares so much for you and got worried sick because she hasn't heard from you for days? you think you can just leave me on read and come back to a warm bed whenever you're done being an idol?"

"no, jagi, no... i'm so sorry, please," mingi whines, voice cracking pathetically. his large hands are hovering near your waist, completely trembling, too terrified to touch you without permission. "i didn't mean to, baby... the comeback preparations, i lost track of time... please, princess, don't look at me like that. i missed you so much, it was killing me."

"shut up," you snap, throwing his head back against the wall. "you don't get to speak, and you certainly don't deserve to be inside my pussy tonight. not at all. a selfish and neglectful man like you, who forgets about his own girlfriend, doesn't deserve my attention, nor my touch, and definitely not my kindness."

he slides down the wall right onto his knees before you, exactly where he belongs. he looks up at you with glossy boba eyes, looking entirely like a domestic pet begging for a single scrap of mercy from his master.

"please, jagi... please, i'll do anything. just don't withhold yourself from me. i really, really missed you."

you smirk at the desperate sight of him, and to punish him thoroughly while driving his libido into an agonizing overdrive, you decide to tease the absolute shit out of him.

“sit.” you nodded towards the sofa, and he quickly took a seat in the middle.

you step forward, hike up your skirt, and remove your panties, letting them fall on the floor. straddling one of his denim-clad thighs, as you begin to ruthlessly grind your hypersensitive clit against the rough fabric of his jeans, using his own body weight to pleasure yourself while keeping him entirely starved. you lean up and bite his earlobe, lick down his neck, and let him feel exactly how ready you are, all while keeping his hands pinned to his sides.

"ah, fuck! fuck, princess, please!" mingi screams out, a heavy groan tearing from his chest as his entire body shakes. he begins to thrash his hips upward, but you slap his inner thigh, the loud sound echoing through the soundproofed room. 

"i told you no, mingi." you command, your nails digging into his jeans.

this moment is agonizingly perfect for you, but for mingi, it is pure torture. his cock is completely engorged, throbbing painfully against his zipper, leaking heavily through his underwear. trapped under your unyielding body, forced to watch you ride his leg to a back-arching orgasm without getting a single stroke of his own.

"i'm sorry, i'm sorry, baby, please let me hit, i'm begging you," he cries out, his stoic persona completely disintegrated into a pathetic mess. "i swear, i'll never leave you on read again, i'll call you every hour, just please let me stretch you out... please let me slide inside you, princess, i'm begging, it hurts so bad..."

you lean down, dragging your tongue up his wet cheek, tasting his salty tears before whispering straight into his ear, "you're going to stay right here, and you're going to watch me ride your thigh until i cum. understand?” while you deliberately grind down one last time, absorbing his ruined groans, leaving him fully hard and rethinking his life choices.

❝ like an idiot, i freeze, i’m a slave ❞

WOOYOUNG loves to be the center of attention. whether it’s positive or negative, he will gladly thrive on the throne. but he tends to get incredibly envious if anyone or anything else steals your attention. he wants to be your absolute favorite, your one and only, and so, like the ultimate brat he is, he constantly talks back, teases you, and pushes your buttons just to see exactly how far he can go. tonight, however, he crossed every single line and boundary you had ever established.

your boyfriend was acting up all through dinner, causing a petty scene at the restaurant table. the bickering escalated into a genuine argument, and you were completely done playing his childish games. the exact moment he pushed too far by making comments, your entire demeanor went ice-cold. your gaze snapped to his, and like a complete idiot, he froze in place. his cocky grin instantly vanished from his lips as the realization hit him.

with a fake smile you calmly assured san that everything was fine when he asked. all wooyoung received from you for the rest of the night was a disappointed look, leaving him sweating in his seat, completely terrified of what would happen once back home.

hours later, the front door to your shared apartment clicks shut, and you don’t give him a chance to run. wooyoung tries to backpedal, his nervous laughter echoing off the walls as he attempts to gaslight you into submitting to his whims: "come on, baby, it was just a joke, you're overreacting… you're taking it way too seriously. hey, look at me–" so, what’s the absolute best way to shut up a noisy brat like him? you choke him, of course.

you don't let him finish. your hand flying up to wrap ruthlessly around his throat, slamming his back hard against the wall. your fingers wrap around his neck like a heavy steel chain, squeezing tightly enough to cut off his pathetic excuses as his hands fly up to desperately claw at your wrist. watching his eyes widen in pure shock, tracking the way he struggles for even a tiny gasp of air while his throat bobs beneath your palm… you are the absolute reason he is breathless, holding the complete power to grant or withhold his next breath.

"you think it's funny to embarrass me, woo?" you hiss, leaning close to watch his pupils dilate with absolute terror and nothing but arousal. "you want to be a mouthy little shit in public? you don't get to speak anymore, and you will learn your fucking place."

the heavy boundaries you set are exactly what he thrives on. you release his throat, making him collapse to the floor, panting and coughing heavily, but his torment has barely begun. you command him to strip completely bare and sit on the edge of the bed. your hands are steady as you grab a silk tie and a blindfold. because he doesn't deserve to see you tonight, or get a single thing he wants. binding his wrists securely behind his back and slipping the blindfold over his eyes, plunging him into a darkness.

"p-princess... please," wooyoung whimpers, his head rolling back as he sits blindly on the mattress, "doll, i'm sorry. i'll be good, i swear. my cock is so hard, it hurts... please touch me, baby."

"shut up," your fingers catch the soft flesh of his earlobe and tug hard enough to make him hiss. when his hips involuntarily twitch, trying to grind and find relief, you slap his bare thigh rather harshly. "did i tell you that you could move? you're so predictably pathetic."

"no, baby... no, i'm sorry, please," he cries out, a sob tearing from his throat, completely broken and frozen under the terrifying weight of your unseen gaze.

finally, you step between his knees, leaning down, your teeth sinking hard into his shoulder to warn him before your hand wraps around his throbbing cock. but you aren't here to make him feel good; you are here to break his spirit. giving him a handjob, ruthlessly overstimulating his sensitive skin, your grip is tight and entirely merciless, pumping him straight to the brink of a shattering orgasm before you suddenly rip your hand away, denying him completely. you do it again and again, teasing him until he is begging for it.

"please, doll, let me cum! i'm gonna lose my mind, please, fuck, i can’t ta–"

"no." you push his overstimulated nerves past the point of no return. “you don't get to cum, wooyoung.”

the sensation is too overwhelming for his fragile restraint, and without your explicit permission, his cock pulses violently, shooting a frantic trajectory of thick white semen straight through the air. because you are standing directly over him, the sticky fluid splatters heavily across your cheek and the front of your clean clothes. 

the room goes deathly quiet, save for his panicked breathing. without a single word, you bring your palm aching and fast across his flushed face. the loud, stinging slap echoes sharply through the bedroom, snapping his head to the side and leaving a bright red handprint burning into his soft cheek.

"did i give you permission to cum, you fucking brat?" you ask, your voice dangerously quiet.

"n-no, princess... oh god, baby, i'm sorry, it was an accident, i couldn't–"

wooyoung lets out a shattered moan against the sting of the blow, a pathetic drop of saliva leaking from the corner of his lips. instead of shrinking away, this turns him on to an almost disgusting degree. his cock twitches hard, a fresh wave of pre-cum leaking from the tip as he shivers uncontrollably from the way only you could make him feel.

❝ you dig in your sharp claws, to you i’m forever chained up ❞

before you even started dating JONGHO, you knew he was physically unbreakable. he carries an effortless strength in his bones and is fiercely private about his personal life, especially when it comes to the sacred territory of your bedroom activities. for a man like him to submit is a massive deal. it requires an unparalleled level of absolute trust, and it always demands that you get extra worked up just to breach his defences.

you can sink your teeth deep into his shoulder or dig your nails completely raw into his broad back, and his ridiculously high pain tolerance makes it feel like nothing physical can ever truly hold him down. he could snap a tight silken tie or a leather rope with a single flex of his wrists, but he chooses not to, because the singular thought of making you sad, frustrated, or genuinely mad is the one thing in the entire universe that actually breaks his heart. 

since you cannot overpower him physically, you destroy him emotionally and mentally. you resort to a kind of angry sex tonight because you are so incredibly annoyed by his unbothered nature. you want to be a true sadist, but the fact that he barely flinches is driving you absolutely crazy. kissing him all over his face, sweetly cooing at him to lie perfectly flat for you, before using your teeth and nails ruthlessly, marking his honeyed-soft skin until he is redder than a strawberry. you intentionally pick positions where you can look down and mock his power, straddling his lap and leaning close to his ear.

"you could stop me right now, jongho," you taunt, your fingers digging hard into his jaw. "you could easily throw me off you and take whatever you want… why don't you?"

through his ragged panting, his dark eyes lock onto yours, completely glazed with nothing but pure adoration. "because i'm yours, princess," jongho rasps out, his deep voice sending a heavy vibration straight through your thighs. his fingers twitch against the mattress, forcing himself to stay pinned beneath you. "i don't want to move unless you tell me to. do whatever you want to me, baby. i'm not going anywhere."

you begin riding him like there is absolutely no tomorrow, slamming your hips down against his in a brutal rhythm. literally digging your nails deep into his shoulders and back, leaving long tracks on his skin. leaning down, you sink your teeth hard into the junction of his neck and shoulder, biting down until you can taste the salt of his sweat, desperate to extract a cry of pain from him. but jongho doesn't flinch. he leans directly into the bite, letting out a hum, because to him, every scratch proves that he is forever chained up to his pretty girl.

you slap his chest hard, your breath hitching as you continue to bounce up and down, "make a sound, jongho! fuck– tell me it hurts!" you snap, completely frustrated. 

he is so sweet, yet naturally so commanding. you are actively trying to hurt him, but your boyfriend doesn't react to the pain you are trying so hard to cause. instead, his heavy hips give a lazy thrust that drives his massive cock deep against your cervix. your boyfrined even gets a little pushy with his advice, suggesting exactly where you should strike next to satisfy your frustration.

"right there, my sweet girl... bite harder right there," he pants, freeing one of his hands from the rope, gently guiding your chin to a sensitive spot on his throat. "if you want to make me bleed, you need to dig your nails right into the small of my back. don't hold back, hm? let it out on me."

it's completely infuriating. he was born to dominate every stage and room he walks into. however, on rare occasions like this, he doesn't mind giving you control to let you have your fun. but you aren't finding it fun right now; you're getting tired, and his infinite stamina is downright pissing you off.

you collapse forward against his chest, completely spent, your muscles trembling too hard to keep up the ruthless pace. forcing yourself to cockwarm him as your breathing slowly evens out. the space between your lower halves is an absolute wet mess, a combined puddle of your multiple orgasms.

staring down at the masterpiece you just created. his skin is completely ruined and marked by your violence: covered in red scratches, deep bite marks, and dark bruises. he looks like a priceless painting that has been aggressively signed by its rightful owner. honestly, fuck him. not that you aren't doing it literally, but you are getting exhausted. his cock is still rock-hard inside you, pulsing lazily, his heartbeat steady and strong beneath your cheek as if he could go for three more rounds without even breaking a sweat. 

jongho smiles softly up at you, his warm hand finally coming up to gently stroke your hair, completely unbothered by the burning scratches on his back. "you tired already, my pretty girl?" he murmurs, his voice incredibly soft and deep as he presses a tender kiss to your forehead. "take your time, baby. i'm not moving a single muscle. i'm tying you later anyway, so do as you please."

© KISSSAN do not copy, repost or modify my work.

the screech that left giselle’s throat was deafening. they wanted the when, why, and how immediately. to them, you were clearly gone for him, astronomically down bad, head over heels, despite your denials of the word 'love.' they found your delusion cute, even if they secretly wished you’d pull a simba and run away and never come back.

“look, it’s fine! we aren’t even dating,” you defended, waving a hand dismissively. “we’re keeping it casual. just hooking up, you know?”

“yeah, because just hooking up usually results in hickeys so massive that nasa could mistake them for a new galaxy.” yunjin threw her hands up, pointing at the purple marks blooming across your collarbone. you’d tried on the high-coverage foundation, but even the best formula couldn't hide the evidence of his animalistic hunger.

you went silent, your fingers drifting to the sensitive skin where san had staked his claim. the memory was barely twenty-four hours old and still vibrated behind your eyelids. it hadn't been the plan, not at all. you were supposed to be practicing your driving, a simple lesson getting used to switching gears and doing left and right turns. but one lingering look led to a touch, which led to a bruised lip, and before you knew it, the windows were fogged with steam, and the car was rocking on its suspension. your panties were probably still wedged under the back seat. some details were definitely too much for the girls to handle.

suddenly, your phone screen lit up, catching everyone’s eyes.

“oh, it’s san,” you murmured, reading the notification bar while your friends leaned in like they were filming an episode of gossip girl. for two people who wanted you nowhere near the frat house, they were incredibly nosy.

san: last night was amazing. you’re amazing. i’m so lucky to have you in my life. <3 

your best friends didn’t like the hearts in your eyes, or how your cheeks started to gain rose-red color, a soft smile curling at the corners of your mouth. oh no, not on their watch. you were not going to be another victim of the frat-boy cycle.

“cut him off.” giselle didn’t even hesitate. “girl, ghost him and never talk to him again. and no, i don’t care how good that dick is!”

“but listen to me, he isn’t like them–”

“he is, and you know it. i’m sorry, but stop being delusional.” yunjin was there to prove the point even further, leaning forward with a look of genuine concern. “he probably only offered to help you drive so he could get you alone. make you one more body count on that list. he's part of that house, babe. they breathe weed smoke and toxic masculinity.”

you wanted to scream that they were wrong. that san was the one who made sure you were comfortable, the one who stayed stone-cold sober just to make sure everyone got home safe. sure, his friends were a chaotic mess of red flags and empty bottles, but he was the calm in their storm, their guardian angel at some point.

“he’s actually a good guy,” you whispered, though it felt like talking to a brick wall.

“maybe he is,” giselle sighed, rolling her eyes as she collapsed back onto her pillow. “but good guys don’t stay good when they’re surrounded by seven devils. the association alone is a crime.”

the room went quiet for a moment, the heavy 'man-hating' energy of the sleepover clashing when you looked back down at his text, your thumb hovering over the screen. you knew the risks, and you knew your friends were just trying to protect your heart, but they didn't see the way he pouted when he was sleepy or the way he’d patiently explained the brake-to-gas transition while his hand rested gently over yours.

“okay, enough!” giselle groaned, throwing a stuffed animal at your head to break your trance. “i am officially tired of the boy talk. my brain is rotting. if i hear the name san one more time tonight, i’m sleeping in the bathtub.”

“honestly, same,” yunjin laughed, grabbing a face mask from her bag. “no more men. pass me the snacks and put on a horror movie where the frat guy dies first.”

you giggled, finally tucking your phone under your pillow. the debate wasn't over, but for now, the girls were settling in, and despite their warnings, you knew exactly who you’d be dreaming about.

“so you fucked her?”

the question cut through the haziness of the room with WOOYOUNG sprawled out on his bed, one arm draped over his forehead while he held a joint in the other. a thin, grey ribbon of smoke curled toward the ceiling, carrying that familiar scent that clung to every corner in the house. san was next to him, as he didn't even blink. he just kept his eyes tracked on the plushie he was tossing upward: up, catch. up, catch.

“i wouldn’t use that term.”

“then what term should you use when you put your penis in her vagina?”

wooyoung was always the first to pry into his best friend’s business, because keeping a secret in this environment is like trying to hold onto sand — impossible and pointless. the frats had a reputation to uphold. they were the kings of the one-night stand, the legends of the blurred morning after. and while you were drop-dead gorgeous, no doubt about that, everyone knew you weren't exactly the type to fit into their world.

“look, i like her, okay?” san finally snapped, catching the plushie mid-air and hugging it tight to his chest. he turned his head on the pillow, looking at wooyoung who was staring blankly at the ceiling fans.

“i like her,” the stoner mimicked, a lazy grin spreading across his face as he took another puff. exhaling slowly, the smoke obscuring his features for a second. “man, you’re far gone. but c’mon, give me the details. did you finally get her out of those clothes? how many times did she cum? i bet she’s a screamer, isn’t she?”

san groaned, burying his face into the plushie. “wooyoung, shut up. it wasn’t like that. it was... it was actually really good.”

“it was really good,” wooyoung chuckled, his voice dropping into a filthy and playful tone. “that’s code for we tried every position in the book. did you have her against the window? i saw your car earlier... your windows had rather impressive hand prints for just giving someone a driving lesson.”

san felt the heat creep up his neck, the memory of your hands tangled in his hair making his heart do a clumsy skip. he didn’t want to tell wooyoung that he’d spent half the time just worshipping your skin, or that the way you looked at him made him want to burn the whole frat house down just to keep you safe from the chaos that occurred every second.

“we were in the backseat,” the man admitted quietly, his grip tightening on the toy.

“the classic,” wooyoung hummed, tapping ash into a tray on the nightstand. his eyes were red-rimmed and heavy, but his smirk was so smug. “just be careful, lover boy. the girls she hangs out with will have your head on a pike if you break her heart. and as for the guys here... they’re gonna give you hell for going soft.”

“i don’t care,” san said, and for the first time that night, he sounded completely sure of his decision. “let them talk. she’s worth the headache.”

“so, what position did you really have her in? did you do that thing where you–”

“wooyoung, seriously, stop,” san groaned, but his defensive stance was interrupted by the door swinging open so hard it hit the wall. YUNHO strolled in, looking way too energetic for someone who survived on nicotine and energy drinks. MINGI was dragging along behind him, looking like he’d just woken up from a three-hour nap after having his dick sucked.

“party tomorrow night,” yunho announced, clapping his hands together. “we need to finalize the invite list. we were thinking of some freshmen, so any suggestions?”

wooyoung took a slow drag of his joint and pointed a lazy finger at san. “how about san’s girlfriend? she’s pretty and smart, on top of her major, and gets a scholarship.”

“she is not my girlfriend,” san snapped, sitting up so fast the plushie tumbled to the floor.

“girlfriend?!” mingi yelled, his voice booming through the thin walls of the house.

within seconds, the hallway sounded like a stampede. the floorboards groaned under the weight of four other men racing toward the noise. SEONGHWA was the first to lean against the doorframe, followed by a skeptical-looking HONGJOONG, a judging JONGHO, and YEOSANG, who looked like he’d just been handed the best tea of the semester.

“what girlfriend?” hongjoong asked, crossing his arms. “san, really? the guy who spends his friday nights cleaning the kitchen while we’re out?”

it was a disaster. in this house, the word 'girlfriend' was a myth, a legend told to frighten the freshmen. they did hookups, situationships, friends with benefits, but they didn't do feelings. the mere mention of a committed title was enough to start a departmental investigation.

“none of your business,” san muttered, trying to look anywhere but at their smirking faces. “she’s no one important, just a girl in our university.”

“no one important doesn't get you out of the house to give her driving lessons,” wooyoung chirped from the bed, ruining san's life with a single sentence.

“bring her tomorrow,” jongho suggested, “if she’s just a girl, it shouldn’t matter if she attends the party.”

“no,” san said firmly. “she’s not coming here.”

he knew exactly what would happen. they’d tease and try to corrupt you, or worse, they’d make you realize that being associated with a frat boy, even a 'good' one, was a social death sentence. he wanted to keep you tucked away, a private piece of peace in his chaotic life. something for his eyes and hands only.

“he’s protecting her,” seonghwa noted, a smirk spreading across his face. “how romantic.”

“i’ll bet fifty bucks she’s here by midnight,” mingi whispered, loud enough for everyone to hear.

“oh, so we are doing it like this, huh?” yunho grinned. “i bet a hundred that san caves and brings her just because he can't stand the thought of her being home alone while he’s here.”

san watched them start to shake hands and pull out their phones to type something in their note apps. he wanted to keep you as his little secret, but the vultures had picked up the scent, and they were hungry for a show. wooyoung laughed so hard he started coughing, leaning back, his head hitting the pillow as he let out a slow, haunting cloud of smoke. he looked through half-lidded eyes, his grin turning into something far more predatory because the innocent teasing was officially over.

“if she’s not your girlfriend, and she’s no one important...” his best friend’s voice dropped into a smooth purr that made the hair on the back of san’s neck stand up. “then you wouldn’t mind if i asked her out, right? i mean, sharing is caring after all.”

san’s body went rigid, eyes widened in pure shock. “don’t even think about it, woo.”

“why not?” mingi piped up, as he leaned against the dresser. “you know the rules. nothing is official until you make it. and if you’re too scared to claim her, it’s a fair game. she’s a pretty little thing. i wouldn’t mind seeing if she’s as good as you say she is.”

“i’ll bet i can get her number before the party even starts,” yunho added, his competitive streak flaring up. he wasn’t even high or tipsy, just fueled by the pure adrenaline of the hunt. “hell, i’ll bet i can get her in my bed by next weekend.”

to them, you were a prize, a challenge to be won. the good boy of the group had finally found something worth hiding, and that only made the rest of them want to tear the secret apart and see what the hype was about.

“stop it. all of you,” san hissed, his protective instincts were screaming. he knew these men; he knew they were charming, reckless, and could talk almost any girl into a bad decision with a single smile and a hit of whatever they were smoking.

“oh, he’s getting mad,” wooyoung cackled, pointing a shaking finger at san. “look at him! he’s actually catching feelings. but sannie, you know how this works. if she comes to the party tomorrow, she’s in our territory.”

seonghwa, who had been quiet until now, let out a chuckle. “the bet is on, then. fifty bucks to the first person who gets a kiss. a hundred for a make out, three hundred if you get her in bed, and… san, if you want to keep her, you better step up your game.”

looking around the room at his seven best friends, the people he called brothers, and for the first time, they looked like the monsters your best friends warned you about. they were laughing, throwing out names of positions and places they’d take you, treating your name like a coin in a poker game.

everything here is a gamble, and everyone has decided that they are playing to win and keep the streak, so will san do a call or fold?

the following morning, san slipped out of the house early, the scent of beer and lingering smoke clinging to the walls behind him. he needed air, time to think and process everything, as he wandered into the nearby park. the boys were ruthless once the bet was placed, like sharks in a feeding frenzy, and he knew he couldn't protect you if you set foot inside that place tonight.

pulling out his phone, his fingers trembling slightly as he dialed your number.

"hi, princess," he said the moment you picked up, forcing his voice to drop into that honey-sweet register he reserved only for you. "how are you? did you have fun with giselle and yunjin?"

“i’m good… still sleepy.” he could hear the sleepiness in your voice, that soft and raspy tone that usually made him melt. you told him about the movies, the gossip, and how you baked chocolate-chip cookies, and how the girls had just left thirty minutes ago to study, since fashion and music majors never truly rested. 

"im glad you had fun," he said, offering a pained smile to the empty park. he took a shaky breath, the silence stretching a second too long.

"is everything okay?" you asked, noticing the weight in his exhale.

“so, listen to me,” san started, pacing back and forth in front of a wooden bench, his free hand shoved deep into his pocket. “there’s a party at the house tonight. it’s going to be a mess, okay? the guys are going to be drunk and high, the music is going to be way too loud, and honestly... it’s just not a good time for you to come over. i’ll come over to yours later if you want, we can go get food, just... stay home tonight, please?”

he held his breath, praying your protective friends had rubbed off on you enough to make you say no.

“actually sannie,” you said, your voice sounding confused but intrigued, “wooyoung texted me a few hours ago. he invited me to tonight's party, saying you were being shy about asking me and that i should definitely show up around eleven.”

san stopped dead in his tracks. the world seemed to freeze as his blood ran cold. oh god. fucking hell, wooyoung did the fuck not. that bastard actually did it. he remembered his best friend staring at his phone at 3 am, ignoring the beer pong game with mingi and yeosang, a wicked and rather too pleased grin on his face. 

“he texted you?” san’s voice was full of betrayal. “what exactly did he say? and did you... did you answer him?”

“i told him i’d think about it,” you replied, completely oblivious to the fact that you were currently the stakes in a high-stakes poker game. “he seemed really nice, though. he told me he wanted to finally meet the girl who’s been keeping you so distracted.”

"please, (name)... don't go.”

"why? it's not like you are my boyfriend or anything."

the words hit him like a physical blow to the stomach. it was the truth, since he hadn't claimed you. he hadn't given you a reason to choose his word over an invitation from his best friend. the trap was set for its prey to fall into. wooyoung wasn't just being a wingman; he was moving the chess pieces to win the bet. if you showed up tonight, you’d be walking straight into a den of seven men who had turned your existence into a competition.

"look, i just have a bad feeling. i don’t want you near people who have vodka and jagermeister mixed into their dna. believe me, i’m doing this for your own good."

"and i have a good feeling and would like to go. what's the worst that can happen?"

the worst? san’s mind raced through the horrors. the predatory looks, the nasty comments masked as flirt. wooyoung trying to charm his way between your legs, mingi or yunho trying to see how much you could drink. the risk of someone slipping something into your cup, the cameras, and the total lack of respect for boundaries once the bass started thumping.

he opened his mouth to tell you that his friends had put a price on your head. he wanted to tell you about the fifty bucks for a kiss and the hundred more for a night in their bed.

but the words died in his throat. if he told you, he’d lose you because you’d see what kind of people he associated with. if he told you, he’d betray the only "brothers" he had. he was trapped between the angel on his shoulder and the devils in his house.

"just trust me," san pleaded, his voice cracking, "don't come."

“san, you’re acting weird. it’s just a party,” you laughed softly, and the sound of your innocence made his stomach flip. “it’s not like i’m going to go and fall in love with your friends. i just want to see you… so, i'll be there around eleven," you said softly before hanging up.

san stared at his phone, the screen reflecting his panicked face. what was he supposed to do now? maybe make sure you stick with him the whole time, or he can even pick you up from your place and try to convince you otherwise, but you sounded determined to attend the party.

tossing your phone onto your unmade bed, you let out a heavy sigh. san was sweet, he really was, but sometimes his protectiveness felt less like care and more like a cage. why was he so against this? half the campus was going to be there, not just his inner circle of friends. you’d been seeing each other for months: going on dates, sharing meals, and, yes, having the kind of sex that made your toes curl, but he still hadn't put a label on it. he hadn't asked you to be his girlfriend, and if he wasn't going to claim that title, he didn't really get to veto your saturday night plans.

you weren't talking to other men; your loyalty was firmly with him, but you were young and bored. the thought of sitting in your room while the rest of the university was dancing and drinking sounded miserable. a party was exactly what you needed to feel like you again, not just as san’s secret.

and you definitely weren't telling giselle and yunjin. if san’s reactions were this, theirs would be enough to destroy planet earth. they’d probably stage an intervention or lock you in your room to "save you from your own bad taste," but they didn't understand the pull san had on you, and they certainly didn't know how charming wooyoung could be over a simple text.

is it so wrong to just want to have fun? you thought, biting your lip, turning your attention to your closet, pulling hangers aside, because the worst that could happen in your mind was a hangover and maybe your hair smelling like cigarettes, but hardly the apocalypse san was painting. if he were so worried about you being around strangers, well, you’d just have to stay close to him, or wooyoung, or any of the other seven guys who seemed perfectly capable of being human for one night.

your biggest problem wasn't a bad feeling or some mysterious frat house drama. your biggest problem was deciding between the tiny black slip dress that showed off the faint, fading marks on your neck or some of your skirts and tops. but you reached for the dress. if san wanted to keep you a secret, he was going to have a very hard time doing it tonight. you were going to show up, have fun, and prove to him that you could handle the frats.

arriving just like cinderella, you texted your prince charming that you were outside, and less than thirty seconds later, the heavy door swung open. san stood there, looking slightly frazzled, his dark hair pushed back and a simple black t-shirt hugging his frame, alongside some cargo pants. but then he looked at you… you looked incredible. his gaze traveled from your heels up to that tiny black dress, lingering on the soft glow of your skin. he looked like a man who had just seen a ghost, or an angel, and that alone made him want to turn you right back around and walk you home.

"hi, san." you smiled as he stepped out onto the porch, closing the door slightly to muffle the bass-heavy music. 

"you... you actually came," his hand instinctively reaching out to hover near your waist. "you look amazing. i mean, wow. but i thought... i thought we agreed–"

"we didn't agree on anything, sannie," you giggled, stepping closer to adjust his collar just to see him flush. "and thanks, you look good, too… but you look like you've seen a ghost. are you okay?"

"i'm just... nervous. so, stay close to me, okay?” he let out a ragged sigh, his thumb finally brushing the small of your back as he guided you inside. “it’s already getting rowdy in there."

it was 23:38 when you came, the party was in full swing, the pre-game long forgotten in favor of body-to-body dancing and the scent of expensive cologne and cheap tequila. you were an enigma walking through a sea of unfamiliar faces, a girl who didn't quite fit the frat-girl stereotype but was somehow the most captivating person in the room. as you moved through the crowd with san, conversations seemed to stall. heads turned, and the eyes of the other seven men in the house locked onto you like hunters ready to shoot the naive and innocent deer.

san was doing his best to keep his body blocked against yours, acting as a human shield, eyes darting around the room like a hawk. he was on high alert, and for good reason, until a hand landed firmly on his shoulder.

"there she is."

wooyoung appeared out of the haze like a fever dream. he was leaning against the wall with a cherry lollipop tucked into the corner of his smirk. his blonde hair was perfectly styled and straightened with a little black highlights, and he wore a pale pink sweater unzipped just low enough to show the lines of his collarbones and a glimpse of his chest, accompanied by black denim with a shiny belt. he looked like candy: sweet and completely addictive.

"(name), right? nice to finally meet you, pretty girl," stepping into your personal space, the scent of citrus perfume and a faint trail of weed swirling around him. he didn't wait for an answer before his eyes traveled down your body and back up, his expression one of unadulterated approval. "enjoying yourself, i hope?"

san’s grip on your waist tightened. "woo, not now."

"oh, don't be such a buzzkill, sannie." wooyoung was being cocky, and before san could react, the blond slipped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you away from your shielder. his touch was warm, his thumb brushing against your arm in a way that felt far too familiar for a stranger. "a girl this gorgeous shouldn't be tucked away in a corner all night. don't mind if i show her around, do you? she hasn't even seen the balcony view yet."

you looked at san, who looked like he was about to combust, and then back at wooyoung’s sparkling eyes. the thrill of the attention was too good to pass up. "sure," you giggled, leaning slightly into his side. "show me the way."

you started to walk away before san could even find his voice. just as you reached the edge of the hallway, wooyoung paused. he threw his head back, looking over his shoulder at san, taking the lollipop out of his mouth with a slow pop, licked his lips, and put it back in as he winked.

san stood frozen in the middle of the crowded room, completely disturbed. he watched his best friend’s hand slide a little lower on your back as you disappeared into the crowd. for the first time, he realized that "sharing is caring" wasn't just a joke to his friends; it was a warning that if you don’t care about something of yours, someone else would.

wooyoung led you through the house like a king walking through his own palace. every step on the staircase was occupied by someone smoking or making out, but the crowd seemed to part for him. he kept a hand on the small of your back, his touch light but possessive, guiding you through the sweaty mass of the living room.

"so, what do you think?" he asked, leaning in close so his lips brushed the shell of your ear, "do we live up to the rumors?"

you glanced at a guy passed out on a beanbag and then at the overflowing trash cans near the kitchen. "well, the house smells awful, and you definitely bought the cheapest alcohol available, so yeah, i’d say the rumors are true."

that made him chuckle, his eyes crinkling as he looked at you. "cheeky, aren't ya? i like that. usually, girls are too busy trying to impress me to notice the mess."

he steered you away from the noise, up to the second floor, sliding open the glass doors that led to the balcony he mentioned earlier. the air out here was crisp and cool, a contrast to the suffocating party inside. above you, the sky was a clear indigo, the moon hanging in a partial eclipse, and the view was really spectacular.

wooyoung leaned against the railing with his back, the pink of his sweater glowing under the moonlight. he reached into his pocket and put his lollipop inside a wrapper, only to pull out a small pouch, as his nimble fingers began to roll a joint. you leaned your elbows on the railing, side-eyeing the way he focused on the task, his tongue poking out just slightly as he licked the paper.

"you ever tried?" he asked, not looking up, though he could clearly feel your gaze.

"no," you admitted, shifting your weight. "not much into that kind of stuff."

"ah, i see." finally looking at you, as he lit his lighter, the flame illuminated the sharp features of his face for a second before he took a slow drag. he exhaled a thin plume of smoke toward the moon. "you live up to the good girl archetype, then."

you narrowed your eyes at him, the cool breeze fluttering the hem of your dress. "was that supposed to be a compliment?"

wooyoung stepped closer, the scent of citrus and sweet smoke swirling around you. he leaned down until he was level with your face, his gaze dropping to your lips before coming back to your eyes.

"of course, pretty," he whispered, charming his way out. "good girls are fun, but i’ve always wondered what it takes to make them break."

he held the joint out toward you, a silent invitation, his thumb grazing your knuckles as he waited. inside, you didn't know that san’s eyes were scanning the crowd frantically, looking for the girl he was so terrified of losing to the very man currently making your heart race.

you stared at the glowing tip of the joint, the rebellion bubbling up in your chest finally winning over anyone’s warnings. it’s just a party, you told yourself. you took it from his fingers, trying to look as cool as he did, but the thick smoke hit the back of your throat like a freight train. immediately, you were bent over, a hand clamped over your mouth as you let out a series of light and pathetic coughs. 

wooyoung threw his head back, a melodic laugh spilling out of him. “aw, there, there. you’ve got those big and teary puppy eyes now,” he cooed, taking the joint back before you dropped it. “you’re worse than when san tried to take a puff for the first and last time.”

“shut up,” you wheezed, wiping a stray tear from the corner of your eye. “i haven’t smoked before, and this is… it’s strong.”

“only the best for this house.”

his free hand reaching out to steady you, his palms resting at your waist. the heat from his hand seeped through the thin fabric of your dress. the sexual tension was enough to choke on, heavier than the smoke between you. wooyoung leaned in, his face inches from yours, his eyes dropping to your mouth with a look that said he was about to win the bet right then and there, playing you like a fine instrument, melting your defenses with nothing but a look. 

“you have a little bit of a smudge right here,” his voice so smooth as his thumb brushed the corner of your lip. he was closing the distance, his breath warm against your skin, and you were almost ready to let him, until the glass door slammed open with a violent thud.

“hey, woo! we need the keys to the suv, we gotta go get more alcho–” 

yunho froze mid-sentence, his tall frame nearly blocking the entire doorway. mingi stumbled in right behind him, shirtless and draped in enough silver chains to sink a boat. he let out a low whistle, sliding his black sunglasses down the bridge of his nose to get a better look at you. 

“woah, did we accidentally invite a k-drama lead?”

wooyoung didn't move his hand from your waist, but his jaw tightened with a flash of pure annoyance. he let out a frustrated exhale, rolling his eyes as he let go of you. 

“that’s (name). san’s plus-one for the night.”

“san has a plus-one?” yunho grinned, stepping onto the balcony and effectively killing the intimate vibe wooyoung had spent twenty minutes building. he looked so handsome in his ripped jeans and unbuttoned white shirt, his black jacket swaying as he moved. “well, san is currently busy trying to find a mop because someone puked in the foyer. we’ll take over from here.”

mingi didn't even wait for a response. he stepped in close, the jewelry around his neck clinking. “you don’t wanna hang out with this boring stoner all night, do you? come on, me and yunho are going on a booze run. we need a woman’s touch to make sure we don't buy more battery acid.”

“yeah, come on. we’ve got a car waiting and the night is young. don't let woo bore you to death with his good girl talk.” yunho had gently taken your hand, his large palm engulfing yours, before wooyoung could protest, he gave them the car key. mingi stood on your other side like a literal wall of muscle. they began ushering you back toward the house, and you looked back at the blonde, giving him a small shrug as the two tall men practically swept you off the balcony. 

the stoner stood alone, fuming inside like a volcano. putting the joint back in its place in his pocket, as he switched it with the lollipop, shoved it into his mouth, and bit down with an aggressive crack. he watched them lead you away, his eyes narrowed as he planned his next move. the game was just getting started, and the twin towers had just upped the ante.

walking between them felt like being caught between two skyscrapers. you had to tilt your head back just to meet their eyes, handsome jawlines that seemed to defy gravity. yunho kept the mood light, cracking jokes about the absolute state of the kitchen, while mingi was biting his lower lip every time his eyes raked over your curves.

"so, didn't know you were san's plus one. he never brings anyone here," mingi said, his deep voice rumbling in his chest as you followed them down the quiet upstairs hallway. you hadn't realized how massive this house was; every staircase and door seemed to lead to a place twice as big as the previous.

"mmm, i’m surprised he even invited someone at all," yunho hummed. he reached for a door handle and swung it open, revealing a room that caught you off guard. it was huge, centered by a king-sized bed and a massive gaming setup glowing with blue and purple led lights. posters of spiderman and vintage guns lined the walls, a strangely human touch in a house you thought only cared about booze and bodies.

"actually, wooyoung invited me," you admitted softly as both of them stopped dead in their tracks, turning their heads slowly to look at you with mirrored expressions of amusement and confusion.

"oh,” yunho asked, raising an eyebrow, because they expected you to be invited by san, not by someone else, but of course it was the cocky bastard. “did he really?"

before you could process the change in vibe, they moved. it was coordinated and effortless, like they’d done this a thousand times before. yunho stepped behind you, closing the bedroom door with a soft click, while mingi stepped into your personal space, forcing you to back up until your back hit yunho’s chest. bigger hands came up to rest on the tops of your shoulders, his thumbs tracing the line of your collarbone. mingi was right in front of you, looming over you with that toned chest, his heavy silver chains clinking as he leaned down.

"wooyoung has always been greedy," mingi whispered, his black sunglasses now on top of his head, so that you could see the hunger in his eyes. "but i think he's biting off more than he can chew."

can't blame the stoner, though. look at you, you’re smoking hot, and they can’t decide if they want to take you out for those drinks or just stay right here and see how loud you can get. would you scream, or are you more of the quiet ones? have you ever squirted before? do you want to know what the difference is between an average guy and two big guys when it came to size in pretty much every aspect of the human anatomy?

"we haven't even had a drink yet," yunho murmured against the shell of your ear, his breath hot, and you could smell the mint bubblegum he probably had, "we're perfectly sober and perfectly capable of taking care of you."

you felt a dizzying rush of adrenaline. your heart was hammering against your ribs like a trapped bird. the attention was intoxicating: to be wanted by two men who looked like they’d been carved out of marble was every girl's secret fever dream.

"you’re trembling," mingi reached out, his large hand cupping your jaw, his thumb tracing the line of your lower lip. "is it because you’re nervous, or because you like having both of us this close?"

they were sweet-talking you, their compliments falling like honey by telling you how lethal you looked in that dress, how your scent was driving them insane... a part of you, the part that had been feeling neglected by san's refusal to put a label on things, absolutely thrived under the tension.

if there's no ring on the finger, i’m a free agent, you thought, but then, the good girl in you flinched. you thought of san's frantic plea for you to stay home and how sweet he was to you. your morals were a heavy weight, pulling at your conscience even as your body leaned into the warmth of the two men surrounding you.

"you’re thinking too much," yunho whispered, his hands sliding down your arms to catch your wrists. "we’re just talking, princess. unless... you want more?"

"i... i should probably find san," you stammered, the name a little too heavy on your tongue.

"san?" yunho chuckled, the vibration of his chest hitting your shoulder blades. "san is a good guy. a really good guy. but he’s not here right now, is he? and like you said... he didn't even invite you."

mingi reached out, his finger hooking under the thin strap of your dress, tugging it just a millimeter lower. "san doesn't have to know everything. and we’re very good at keeping secrets. and in this house, we don't like to see someone as beautiful as you going to waste.”

you looked from mingi’s gaze to the closed door behind yunho. the temptation was a chance to be the center of the universe for the two most popular guys on campus. but the thought of the guilt waiting for you in the morning, and the look on san’s face if he ever found out, made your heart stutter in a way that wasn't just excitement. but as yunho’s hand found your waist and mingi’s gaze dropped to the lace of your dress, the guilt felt miles away. 

"just one ride," the taller whispered into your ear, his hands squeezing you. "we'll be real careful with you, i promise." 

your head was spinning. maybe that one puff of weed had actually done something, or maybe it was just by being sandwiched between two giants. you’d never even considered a threesome before; the thought usually passed quickly. but here, with mingi’s thumb dragging across your bottom lip and yunho’s breath hitching against your neck, you were ready to experiment.

you were nervous, sure, but it was a delicious kind of fear. they were big, capable, and the way they looked at you made you feel like something precious they were about to carefully unwrap… or destroy.

mingi tilted his head as he began to close the final few centimeters between your mouths. your eyes fluttered shut, your heart performing a frantic drumroll against your ribs — knock, knock.

"hyung, you here?"

the door creaked open before anyone could react, the wood hitting yunho’s back with a light thud. the sudden movement sent a chain reaction: yunho bumped into you, and you were shoved forward right into mingi’s bare chest.

yunho whipped his head around, his face a mask of pure irritation, only to see jongho standing there. the youngest looked completely unfazed, his expression calm as he blinked at his hyungs. from his angle, you were completely hidden behind yunho’s broad frame; all he could see was mingi looking disheveled.

"am i interrupting something?" jongho asked, his voice steady and almost dry.

"jjong, we’re a little busy right now," yunho grunted, trying to block the doorway again.

but jongho didn't move. he stepped into the room, and everyone in the house knew who was the strongest — he could probably snap a baseball bat with his bare hands, and none of the older guys wanted to find out what happened if they actually crossed him. more than that, he was a spoiled and manipulative genius who always got his way.

"san-hyung is downstairs looking like he’s about to have a heart attack," the youngest said, his eyes finally landing on you as you peeked out from behind yunho. a knowing smirk playing on his lips. "and i think i’d like to talk to our guest myself in private."

"hey, wait a minute–" mingi started, but jongho just raised an eyebrow.

"mingi-hyung, didn't you say you were going on a drink run? the girls downstairs are complaining about the warm beer. so go." it wasn't a suggestion, more like an order wrapped in a flat tone.

the wolf and the dog exchanged a look of pure defeat. they knew when they’d been outplayed. with a frustrated sigh, mingi put his sunglasses back, and yunho stepped aside, both of them lingering for a second to catch one last glimpse of you before trudging out like two kids who’d just had their favorite toy confiscated.

jongho waited until the door clicked shut before he turned to you. he didn't loom like the others; he just stood there with an air of absolute authority that was arguably more intimidating. and he was kind of adorable, wearing dark indigo denim jacket that matched his denim jeans, layered over a white tee, paired with a backwards navy baseball cap.

"you should be more careful," he murmured, stepping closer and reaching out to straighten a stray strand of your hair. "those two don't know how to play fair. luckily for you, i'm much better at keeping secrets."

he offered you his arm, a grin spreading across his face as he prepared to lead you away, leaving his hyungs to pick up whatever leftovers were left of the party, meaning the plenty of girls waiting for their chance, while he took the prize for himself.

jongho didn’t actually have any intention of making a move on you. while the others were losing their minds over the bet, he was mostly just participating to watch the absolute absurdy of it all. despite being the youngest, he was the only one who seemed to have a fully functioning brain tonight. sure, he had his girls, mostly friends-with-benefits situations that were low-stress and high-reward, but he wasn't about to act like a starving bear.

he noticed how glazed your eyes were, the weight of the night finally catching up to you. "you okay?"

"yeah, i think so... sorry, what is your name?" you asked, leaning slightly against the wall for support.

"jongho," he replied shortly, though not unkindly.

he led you up to the third floor, where the bass from the party felt more like a distant hum than a physical assault. it was a quiet hallway, mostly unused, leading to a spare room that felt like a sanctuary. he pushed the door open to reveal a space stacked with extra furniture and a mini-fridge that was, surprisingly, fully stocked. he grabbed a cold soda and handed it to you.

"this is where i hide when the girls my hyungs bring home start getting too loud, since it gets annoying at some point," he gestured toward the couch that was buried under a mountain of sprawled blankets. "sit, make yourself comfortable."

you sighed in relief and plopped down onto the pile of blankets, only to jump nearly three feet into the air when a muffled “ow!” came from underneath you.

you scrambled back, teleporting behind jongho and gripping the back of his shirt. "do you murder people in this house? don't tell me you guys are ghostface wannabes and there’s a body under there…”

jongho sighed, looking more tired than scared. he reached down and pulled back a thick duvet, revealing a very disheveled, very annoyed-looking guy with blonde hair.

it was yeosang. he’d been hiding out here for hours because wooyoung had been trying to pressure him into doing body shots off some random girl's stomach in the kitchen. the sleeping beauty was a sweetheart, really, a bit of a clueless himbo at times who just wanted to be left alone. he was technically part of the bet, but only because he didn't want to listen to the others nag him. actually doing something behind san's back sounded like way too much effort and drama for his taste.

"hyung? what are you doing here?" jongho asked.

yeosang rubbed his eyes, blinking up at you with a look that was more confused puppy than sex maniac. he looked like an adorable maltese for some reason. "hiding from wooyoung."

he sat up, his blonde hair sticking out in every direction, before putting his white cap on, matching the backward style of jongho. he looked at you, then at the soda in your hand, then back at jongho. "is the party over? is san cleaning everything alone again?"

"no," the youngest replied, "but i think she would like some peace and quiet after spending time with yunho and mingi."

yeosang looked at you with sympathy, something you didn’t expect from someone of their status. "sounds exhausting. you can hide here, too, if you want. i have snacks in the drawer and i promise i won't do anything funny… too tired for that stuff."

the more you talked to yeosang and jongho, the more the "scary frat" facade crumbled. they were actually pretty chill, and for a second, you felt like you were back at a slumber party rather than whatever this was. you decided to take yeosang up on his offer to hide, even helping them pick out a movie on the tv. seriously, even the storage room had a flat-screen. you wondered just how much money these guys’ parents were funneling into this house.

you ended up sandwiched in the middle of the couch. yeosang was to your right, jongho to your left, both manspreading a little, their knees occasionally brushing yours. you and yeosang were shamelessly sharing a bag of popcorn while jongho sat with his arms crossed, pretending he wasn't invested in the plot.

"i didn't take you for the type of guys to watch disney movies," you commented, staring at the screen where lightning mcqueen was begrudgingly repaving the road in radiator springs.

"it's a classic, and i like the soundtrack," yeosang sounded very serious, tossing a piece of popcorn into his mouth.

watching the movie made you feel a weird pang of nostalgia. you missed being a kid, but mostly, you just wished you were doing this with san. wait... san? you checked your phone and realized it had been over an hour and a half since wooyoung swept you away, and the whole strange fiasco started from having guys hitting on you every second.

"hey, i'll be right back," you said, shifting to get up. "where's the bathroom on this floor? i don't want to go back downstairs into that war zone."

"end of the hall to the left," jongho said, not taking his eyes off the screen. "don't get lost. the hallways up here are like a maze."

"thanks," you giggled, sliding out from between them.

you slipped into the hallway, as you found the door easily enough, but just as you reached for the handle, it swung open, and you froze.

standing there with long, raven hair that looked like silk, eyes that were sharp yet somehow incredibly soft. he was dressed in a way that felt both elegant and effortlessly swaggy, like he’d just stepped off a runway. the man stopped when he saw you. a beautiful smile spreading across his face as he took in your dolled-up appearance. he’d been waiting for his turn all night, watching his friends fail one by one from the sidelines. but now, in this empty hallway with no wooyoung to interrupt and no twin towers to hover... he had you all to himself.

"well," his voice smooth as he stepped out, effectively blocking your path to the door. "i was wondering when the star of the show would make her way up to me."

“excuse me?” you were utterly confused, because… the star of the show? you just wanted to use the bathroom before your bladder decided to quit on you. “nevermind, can you please move so i could use the bathroom? it's kind of an emergency.”

seonghwa chuckled, a sound that felt way too sophisticated for a house that currently smelled like spilled tequila. he stepped aside with a graceful sweep of his arm, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “of course. i wouldn’t want to be responsible for a tragedy.”

when you finished and stepped back out, you jumped a little to find him still standing there, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. he looked like a vampire prince guarding his lover’s coffin.

“kind of creepy to wait, don’t you think?” you mumbled, though you weren't actually scared, as he had an aura that somehow felt strangely safe.

“maybe,” he admitted, pushing off the wall. “but guests aren't usually permitted on the third floor. what were you doing up here anyway?”

“i was with jongho,” you said quickly. you didn’t dare mention yeosang; if this guy was the type to report back to hq, you didn't want to get the blonde himbo in trouble for slacking off on his hosting duties.

“you were with jongho?” seonghwa repeated, his eyebrows shooting up.

“yeah?”

“okay,” he said, shrugging his shoulders as if that explained everything. “well, now you’re going to be with me.”

before you could think, seonghwa’s hand found yours. his grip was firm but surprisingly gentle, his fingers laced through your own. he led you back toward the stairs, and as you descended, the wild life hit you again. the house was in full tilt now — people were wasted, dancing on furniture, and the air needed spiritual cleansing.

but the man didn't loosen his grip for a second, using his free hand to navigate through the crowd, keeping his body between you and the more rowdy guests. he leaned in close, his raven hair brushing your temple. “we’re heading toward the dj booth, okay? it’s easier to breathe there.”

he scanned the room as you moved. to the left, it was wooyoung, still looking irritated as he shared a joint with yeonjun and soobin. no, not going back to the competition. then he looked to the right and saw san, who was a little miserable, currently arguing with some guy who was trying to juggle empty glass bottles. thank you, next, he whispered to himself. the backyard was an option, the pool area was usually the final boss of any frat party, but at least the air wouldn't be recycled carbon dioxide.

the second the sliding glass doors opened, the temperature dropped. the backyard was illuminated by strings of fairy lights and the glow of the pool, where a few couples were already skinny dipping, their laughter echoing off the water. it was colder now, and you immediately began to tremble as the wind hit your bare shoulders.

seonghwa noticed instantly. without a word or a second of hesitation, he slipped his jacket off, draping it over you, the warmth of his body still clinging to the lining. you looked up at him, feeling small in his oversized coat. it was honestly unfair. how could a man be this beautiful? he was a frat boy, for god's sake. he was supposed to be a red flag, but right now, he felt like the only person in the house who actually knew how to take care of you.

“better?” he asked, giving you a small and reassuring smile.

“yes, thank you…” you dragged out the last word, trailing off as you looked up at him. so many attractive strangers had crossed your path tonight that you felt like the lead in a k-drama with a plot that was getting way too complicated to follow.

“seonghwa,” he said, nodding his head slowly as if he could read the confusion in your eyes. “my name is seonghwa.”

even his name was pretty. you felt a little shy suddenly, the weight of his jacket on your shoulders acting as a warm reminder of his presence. “i’m (name),” you whispered, feeling like you had to introduce yourself properly, completely unaware that your name had been the only topic of conversation in that house since three in the morning. 

you guys spent a few minutes just chit-chatting; he was flirting, you could tell, but he did it in such a... lovely way. it wasn't cocky like wooyoung or overwhelming like the twin towers. it was subtle, woven into his questions about whether you were actually having a good time, if the noise was too much, or if anyone had bothered you. he sounded like a true host, genuinely concerned with whether his beloved guest was satisfied, but his eyes told a different story. they lingered on your lips just a second too long every time you spoke.

he led you over to a deckchair that sat a bit like an outsider, tucked away in a shadowed corner far from the splashing of the pool. you sat down, the silence of the night wrapping around you, and for a second, you didn't know what to say, but he did.

“do you mind if i do this?” he asked softly, breaking the silence.

“do what?” you whispered back.

he didn't answer with words. instead, he reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering there before gently caressing your cheek. his touch was cool and smooth, making your breath hitch. seonghwa leaned in slowly, giving you every chance to pull away, but you were paralyzed when he finally captured your lips with his. you let out a soft gasp, surprised by the boldness of it, but within seconds, you were melting. it wasn't the hungry kiss you might have expected from a frat boy; it was sweet and incredibly soft. 

you found yourself moving in sync with him, your hands reaching up to grip the lapels of his jacket that still draped over your shoulders. seonghwa groaned softly into your mouth, his hands sliding to your waist to lift you as you ended up straddling his lap on the deckchair, the fabric of your dress riding up as you pressed closer to his warmth. his tongue swiped against yours, slow and possessive, as the make-out session felt more intense under the dim lights.

you were lost in him, your hands tangling in his raven hair, pulling him closer as you felt the solid muscle of his thighs beneath you. you didn't know about the bet, unaware that at this very moment, every guy in that house was technically down a hundred and fifty bucks. seonghwa had played the long game, waiting for the perfect moment to strike while the others played checkers. 

as his hands traveled down your back, pulling you flush against him, you forgot all about the crowded house, the good girl persona, and the realization hit you like a bucket of ice water. the haze of the party, the weed, and the thrill of the chase evaporated the second you felt seonghwa’s hand slide up your thigh. you weren't supposed to be here, more so, you weren't supposed to be making out with a raven-haired stranger while san, the boy who actually cared about you, was inside worrying himself to death.

you pulled away abruptly, your chest heaving. seonghwa’s lips were swollen and red, a faint sheen of spit making them look even more inviting in the moonlight. he looked confused, his dark eyes searching yours for the reason behind the sudden pull.

"what’s wrong, darling?"

"i–... uh, i–" 

you couldn't even find the words. your brain was a mess of strawberry soda and guilt. the faint taste of expensive wine on his tongue lingered in your mouth, and for some reason, the alcohol made you feel like you were parched.

"you are what?"

"i'm thirsty," you managed to choke out, making seonghwa chuckle. that made you feel like a child caught in a lie. he didn't push you, instead, he stood up from the deckchair. you were still perched in his lap, so you wrapped your legs around his waist for a split second as he rose, feeling the solid strength of his body before he gently set you down on your feet.

"come on, then," he said, taking your hand again. "let’s get you something to drink."

leading you back into the house, navigating you through the mess the kitchen had become, and pulled you toward the massive fridge. he knew you weren't a heavy drinker; he’d tasted the sweet, non-alcoholic soda on your lips during the make-out session. he bent down, his back turned to you as he scanned the bottom shelf.

"would fanta or cola do? or i think there’s some more of that strawberry stuff in the back..." he whispered to himself, reaching for a bottle. "wait, do you want ice with that or–"

he turned around, a can in each hand, and a question on his lips. the kitchen was empty. his expensive jacket was draped neatly over the marble counter, but you were gone. seonghwa’s eyes scanned the room, his jaw tightening as he realized he’d just been played. the gentleman of the house had lost his prize in the three seconds it took to pick a soda.

just who decided to be a thief this time?

the music in the living room suddenly shifted, the bass dropping into a remix that made the floorboards vibrate with a new kind of energy. and there, tucked into the shadows of the hallway leading to the dj booth, was the culprit — hongjoong.

he had his hand clamped firmly around your wrist, his whole vibe screaming "i’m doing you a favor". he didn't look like the others, well, at least the half, because the orange haired man had the same calming energy jongho and yeosang have. he looked like the captain of a sinking ship who was determined to be the last one standing.

"alright, sunshine. you've had enough for tonight," he muttered, pulling you into the darkness of the booth before seonghwa could even think to follow. "it's time you actually have fun."

what the fuck was even happening? you felt like a ragdoll being tossed between a pack of extremely attractive nutcrackers. one second, you were melting into the raven-haired prince of the backyard, and the next you were being yanked through a sweaty crowd by the guy in charge of the music. you weren’t even drunk, and you couldn't decide if that made the situation better or infinitely worse.

san was right. he was so, so right. you should have stayed in your pajamas, eating takeout and binge-watching some comfort show. but as the bass vibrated through the floorboards of the dj platform, rattling your very bones, any lingering anxiety was drowned out by the volume.

hongjoong was in his element. neon buttons glowed under his quick fingers as he tapped out rhythms, his headphones pushed back off one ear so he could hear the crowd’s roar. he was bumping his head to the beat, focused energy radiating off him. for a moment, you actually felt safe here, tucked away on this elevated platform where the ocean of people couldn't reach you.

looking down from this height, the scale of the party was terrifying. the house was a literal club, and you found yourself wondering again where the hell these guys got the money for a place with a professional-grade dj booth and tiered platforms. you scanned the crowd for a familiar face, but the others were gone. wooyoung was probably lost in a cloud of smoke somewhere; yunho, mingi, and seonghwa were likely still hunting for you; and jongho and yeosang were probably still hiding in their quiet sanctuary.

as for san... he was nowhere to be seen. you imagined him playing bouncer or frantically cleaning up a broken bottle in some corner of the house.

after a few more minutes of well-done and smooth transitions, hongjoong flipped a switch to play a pre-mixed set. slumping back into his chair, his chest heaving as he threw his head back and took a long, burning sip of what looked like whiskey. he finally turned his attention to you. he wasn't looking at you with the same hungry competition the others had. he was just... curious. taking in the tiny dress, the way you were trembling just slightly, and the fact that your lipstick was definitely smudged from your detour with seonghwa.

he’d seen the beginning of the night, and how wooyoung had practically snatched you out of san’s arms. then you’d vanished into the house, becoming a ghost until he happened to walk into the kitchen and saw you standing there like a deer in headlights.

"you're not what i expected," he muttered, the whiskey raspy in his throat. "i mean, you're really pretty, i get why they're all acting like idiots over you."

taking another sip, his gaze drifting back to the crowd. "but i see why san wanted you to stay away. you don't belong in a place like this. you're not exactly innocent, but this house... it's a meat grinder, sunshine. and tonight, you're the only thing on the menu."

he wasn't flirting; he was being honest, which was somehow more intimate than anything that had happened. reaching out, his thumb brushing a stray smudge of lipstick from the corner of your mouth, his touch surprisingly tender.

"you look like you're about to burst into tears or pass out," the dj noted, a small, lopsided smirk tugging at his lips. "so, do you want me to keep you up here where it's safe, or are you ready to go find your boy and get the hell out of this circus?"

the moment hongjoong mentioned san, the dam finally broke. your eyes welled up, the neon lights blurring into streaks of pink and blue. you felt small, overstimulated, and utterly exhausted by the relentless pursuit of these men who seemed to be playing a game you didn't have the rulebook for.

"i just want to find him," you whispered, your voice trembling as you looked at hongjoong. "this party is... it’s lit, i guess, but… you guys are exactly why i usually hate men. what is actually wrong with you people?"

"hate the game, not the players. it does things to the ego.” hongjoong didn't take offense, just looked at you with a knowing sort of pity, the whiskey glass clicking against his rings. “but if you're looking for san, he's probably in the gaming room, the one with the pool table and the arcade setups, or his actual bedroom. second floor, last door on the left at the very end of the hall. he usually retreats there when it gets too much to handle."

you blinked, wiping a stray tear with the back of your hand. "you have a gaming room too?” god, you are going to start stealing their jewelry and selling it on ebay, those guys are unnecessarily rich. you turned to leave, determined to bolt toward the stairs, but hongjoong’s hand snaked out and caught your wrist again. his grip wasn't aggressive, but it was firm.

“you sure you want to go alone?” he asked, glancing at the chaotic sea of people below. “i can walk you. honestly, i’m kind of worried about you. you look like you’re one bad interaction away from using those heels as a lethal weapon.”

you gulped, looking down at your sharp stilettos, well, he had a point. the house felt like a gauntlet now, and you didn't want to run into yunho or seonghwa again, or anyone else that was not san. it was not because they weren't attractive, but because your heart was already at its capacity. “you’ll actually help me find him?”

“i could use a break anyway,” he muttered, hopping down from the platform. “so, lets go.”

the walk through was like one of the rings in hell. hongjoong led the way like a captain cutting through a storm. you checked the gaming room first: a massive space filled with neon signs and the clinking of pool balls. you saw some familiar faces through the haze of smoke; hyunjin was leaning against a wall looking ethereal, while felix and jeongin were laughing over a game of air hockey. a few girls from your major were there too, looking far more composed than you felt. but san wasn't there.

“bedroom it is,” hongjoong said, pointing toward the dark hallway on the second floor. just then, his walkie-talkie buzzed, the crowd was getting restless without a dj. “crap. i gotta get back. you think you can make it the last five meters?”

“yeah,” you murmured, giving his hand a quick squeeze. “thank you, hongjoong.”

he gave you a polite nod and disappeared back into the crowd. finally, you were so close. you could see the door at the end of the hall, the one san had probably locked to keep the world out. you took a step, your heart leaping in anticipation, but before you could reach the handle, a hand shot out from the shadows.

your wrist was snatched, and before you could even scream, you were spun around. your back hit the wall with a muffled thud, the air leaving your lungs in a sharp puff. it was dim in this corner of the hallway, the only light coming from the flickering strobe lamps downstairs. you looked up, eyes wide and heart hammering against your ribs.

“found you, dollface." 

the voice purred. it was low, cocky, and dripped with that signature bratty confidence that could only belong to one person.

“wooyoung?” you breathed, your pulse skyrocketing.

he was leaning over you, his blonde hair glowing in the shadows, his face inches from yours. he looked devastatingly handsome, alluring if anything else, and a part of you wanted to push him away and run to san, but another part of you was currently being influenced by the magnetism of these men. he hadn't touched you anywhere but your wrist, and even that grip was loosening into a caress, but the way he looked at you made your knees weak. the stoner occupied the space around you, his arm braced against the wall by your head, trapping you so you don’t even think about escaping.

it felt like a twisted otome game, and you were currently stuck on the most difficult route. you were so close to the san ending, however, your choices led you back to the wooyoung ending. his eyes dropped to your lips, his smirk growing wider as he realized he finally had you alone, far away from any other distractions and disruptions.

"you've been a very busy girl tonight," he whispered, his thumb tracing the pulse point on your wrist. "i turn my back for one second and you're off with the twin towers, then making out with mister dracula in the garden. you're quite the little social butterfly, no?"

"i was just looking for san," you breathed, though the way wooyoung was looking at your neck made it hard to focus on your mission.

"san is boring," wooyoung countered, tilting his head. the lollipop stick poked out of the corner of his mouth as he gave you his signature cocky smirk. "he doesn't know what to do with a girl like you. he's too busy being a good guy to realize that you're starving for someone to actually take what they want."

he leaned in closer, the tip of his nose brushing yours. "i don't play by anyone’s rules, dollface. and i definitely don't like sharing my toys once i've picked them out."

your heart hammered against your ribs. you knew san was just behind that door at the end of the hall, but with the blond pressing into you and his eyes promising every kind of trouble, the door felt miles away.

for some fucked up reason, you didn't push him away. maybe the attention was a drug, and wooyoung was leaning in to deliver the highest dose yet.

"but i–... i'm with san," you tried to defend yourself, the words sounding weak even to your own ears.

"but you’re not," he countered instantly, "if you were his, you wouldn't be wandering my house looking like a frantic little stray. if you were his, i wouldn't even be allowed to look at you, let alone do... this."

he pulled the lollipop from his mouth with a wet pop and pressed the sticky, apple-flavored candy against your lips to hush you. you stared at him, eyes wide, as he watched you with a terrifying yet pleasant smile. you parted your lips just enough to take a small and tentative suck of the candy. it was sickly sweet, and the heat in wooyoung’s eyes flared. he was thinking about indirect kisses and if it count, about the fact that your mouth was now coated in his taste.

his hand, the one that had been caging you against the wall, moved. his fingers began to play with the ends of your hair, twirling a strand slowly before his palm grazed the shell of your ear. he was high, but the weed only seemed to sharpen his focus.

"look at you," he praised, his voice dropping to a filthy whisper as his other hand slid down to find the curve of your waist to hold you in place, "so obedient. such a pretty little thing. you have no idea what you’re doing to me, do you? you've got every man in this house ready to tear each other apart just for a glimpse of this."

he leaned in, his breath hot against your neck, cologne mixed with the alcohol. "seonghwa might think he won because he got a little taste in the garden, but he’s a gentleman, and i'm not. i don't want just a taste, princess. i want the whole thing."

his fingers hooking under your chin to tilt your head back. he pulled the lollipop from your mouth and carelessly flicked it onto the floor, as it clattered against the hardwood. wooyoung stepped even closer, shoving his leg firmly between your knees, forcing your stance open as he pinned you against the wall with his body. his mouth crashed against yours, and it wasn't like the polite kiss seonghwa had given you. this was rough, desperate, and tasted of sweet apple and smoke. his tongue swept into your mouth, claiming you with a hint of arrogance that made your head spin.

you were melting into him, your fingers clutching at the soft fabric of his sweater as his leg pressed higher, the movement making your breath hitch into the kiss. seonghwa might have secured his money, but wooyoung was determined to leave a mark on your soul that san would never be able to scrub off.

the darkness of the hallway felt like a heavy velvet curtain, swallowing the two of you whole and muffling the distant rhythm of the party downstairs. thank god it was dark, because the way you were falling apart under his touch was embarrassing. you were barely anyone in this social circle, noone special, just a girl with a soft spot for a guy who couldn't commit… but you weren't just a girl; you were san’s girl, and in this house, that made you the ultimate trophy. what’s not yours is always better. it's the oldest temptation in the world, the forbidden fruit that tastes twice as sweet because of the guilt, and wooyoung was a man who lived for the taste of things he wasn't supposed to have. 

the frat was beyond caring about the bet or the money at this point; he was driven by the need to mark you as his own. his kisses turned angry and hungry, a desperate struggle for dominance as his tongue tangled with yours, deep and demanding.

"fuck," he groaned into your mouth, his hands finally losing their patience, leaving your haird to travel down, as his palm burned through the thin fabric of your dress until he reached the hem.

you let out a muffled moan into his mouth when you felt his cool rings graze the bare skin of your thigh. he didn't hesitate, his fingers hooking into the silk and dragging it upward, exposing you to the chilled air of the hallway just for a second before his warm hand replaced it. he was all over you, knowing exactly where to press, digging into the soft flesh of your hip as he hitched your leg higher over his own, pinning you so tightly against the wall that you could feel the frantic thrum of his heart against your own chest.

"you’re so intoxicating," he growled against your lips, his voice jagged with edge of lust. "san has no idea what he’s wasting. he treats you like you’re made of glass, but i know you want to be touched like this, don't you? you want someone to stop asking for permission."

his hand slid higher under the dress, as his teeth nipped at your bottom lip, then moved down to trail wet, biting marks along your jawline. he was messing with your brain, his scent and his heat overriding every moral code you’d walked in with. he was filthy, whispering praises and promises into the crook of your neck that made your toes curl inside your heels. his teeth grazed the sensitive skin of your throat, biting down just hard enough to leave a mark so dark that it would tell everyone exactly whose hands had been on you.

the sexual tension rolling off him was suffocating, a tension that made the air feel like it was vibrating. he was a predator who had finally cornered his prey, and he was taking his time savouring the kill. every time you tried to catch your breath, he stole it back, his mouth relentless, his hands wandering into places that made you feel dangerously exposed. 

wooyoung was making you his, piece by piece, right under san's nose, and the fucked up part was that you were leaning into it, your fingers tangling in his hair, begging for what san had never dared to give you. fuck the bet, fuck the already broken rules, fuck the hundred dollars… all he wanted was to fuck you, and you were seconds away from letting him do it right there against the wall.

but suddenly, the spark was gone.

the weight of wooyoung’s body was ripped away so violently that you stumbled forward, your hands grasping at empty air. a sickening sound echoed in the narrow hallway as the blonde was shoved aside, his back hitting the opposite wall with a force that made the framed pictures rattle.

you blinked, your vision blurry and your lips swollen, expecting to see anyone, but … san, whose chest was heaving, hair disheveled, and eyes blown wide with a mixture of disgust and pure devastation. he had been looking for you all night, searching every corner of that crowded and sweaty house, only to find you pinned under his best friend. the betrayal was written in the lines of his face. he looked hurt, like his heart had been physically cracked open, but he didn't give himself time to process the pain.

wooyoung stayed leaning against the wall, rubbing his arm where the shove had left a dull ache. he didn't look guilty; he just stared at san with a defiant look, his chest still pumping with the leftover adrenaline of the make-out session. your brows furrowed, your heart dropping into your stomach as you looked at wooyoung, your mouth opening to ask if he was okay, but before a single word could leave your lips, a hand clamped around yours.

"we are leaving," san’s grip was tight, not enough to bruise, but to show he wasn't letting you go for anything in the world. 

he didn't look at wooyoung, didn't even look at you. he just turned and dragged you down the stairs, weaving through the drunken crowd like a man on a mission. the noise of the party was a dull roar in your ears, a background hum to the frantic beat of your own heart. you felt the cool night air hit your face as he yanked open the front door and slammed it shut behind you. the silence of the driveway was deafening. san was already rummaging through the pocket of his jeans, the metallic jingle of his car keys sharp in the quiet night as he headed for where he has parked.

you stood there, your dress wrinkled and your lipstick smeared, unable to even process what was happening. the transition from the filthy heat of wooyoung to the icy fury of san was too much. you were caught in the middle of a war you didn't even know was being fought.

san opened the door for you, and didn't say a word as you slid into the passenger seat, and he didn't wait for you to settle before he was around the other side, throwing himself into the driver's seat. he started the engine, the roar of the car filling the small space, but he didn't put it in gear.

instead, he sat there, taking a few deep breaths, the sound of his lungs struggling for air the only thing cutting through the tension. a disappointed sigh escaped him as he ran both hands down his face, dragging the skin tight before throwing his head back. his skull hitting the headrest sounded like a punctuation mark. finally, he turned his head to look at you, taking in your trembling frame and your confused, teary eyes.

"this is why i didn't want you here," he whispered, his voice cracking under the weight of his anger. "or anywhere near them. because my fucking god, (name). i told you to listen to me and you didn't. you just do whatever you want because you’re so sure you can control it. you’re so sure you know them."

"san, i–"

"i was worried sick!" he shouted, his hands slamming against the steering wheel. "i turned around for five seconds and you were gone. i’ve been pacing this house, checking every room, thinking someone might have spiked your drink, drugged you... and then i find you in that hallway with him?"

you felt the sting of his words, the guilt of the make-out session with wooyoung still hot on your skin, but the confusion was winning.

"i didn't know things would go that way!" you shot back, your voice trembling as you fought to defend yourself. "i was just trying to have fun. i didn't know i’d be snatched up every thirty minutes by someone else. and i still don't understand why you’re so overprotective, it’s just a party, san. it’s normal for guys to flirt!"

san let out a dry and very bitter laugh, as he looked at you, his eyes full with a truth that was about to shatter everything.

"you think that was flirting? you think they just happened to find you attractive at the same time?" he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a deadly warning, "they fucking made a bet about you, (name). the second you walked through that door, you weren't a guest. you were another doll to be toyed with. they've been betting money and putting their goddamn egos on the line for your body. who could get a kiss, who could get you in bed... it was a bet."

the world felt like it stopped spinning. the air in your lungs turned to lead as the pieces of the night finally clicked into place — the way wooyoung snatched you, the way seonghwa waited by the bathroom, the way mingi and yunho hovered. it wasn't attraction, it was just for the thrill of the game.

"a bet?" you whispered, the word tasting like ash. "they... they were betting on me?"

san turned away, unable to look at the heartbreak on your face. "three hundred, that was the price for their best friend's girl."

suddenly, the guilt was gone, and you felt pathetic. you felt used, and most of all, you felt betrayed by the one person who was supposed to have your back.

"and you kept that away from me?" you demanded, your voice rising through choked out sob. "you knew they were treating me like a piece of meat for money and you didn't tell me? you just let me walk into that house like a lamb to the slaughter?"

"i was trying to protect you!"

"no, san!" you cried, a tear finally escaping and rolling down your cheek. "you weren't protecting me. you were protecting your pride. you let me look like a fool while your friends took turns seeing how much they could get away with. you let me stay in the dark while they were doing this behind your back. god, i feel so disgusting."

the car was vibrating with the force of your shared breathing, a heavy, suffocating silence following the revelation of the bet. the tears were coming fast now, hot and thick, blurring the dashboard lights as you curled into yourself. you felt like a prize in a game you never signed up for, and every touch you’d enjoyed, every smirk from wooyoung and every soft word from seonghwa, even being sandwiched between yunho and mingi, now felt like a stain. you have to realize that only three of them kept their hands off you, and you don’t even know if it was genuine or just for tonight.

"i was going to tell you…" san’s voice broke, his fingers gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were white. "i swear, i tried, but you wouldn't listen! you were so determined to prove me wrong, that you didn't give me a single second to explain why i was actually terrified."

"you should have said it anyway!" you shouted back. "you let me go in there. you let me... i let them touch me, san. i let wooyoung–"

"don't," he snapped, as he threw the car into motion, the tires screeching against the asphalt as he tore out of the driveway. "don't talk about him. don't talk about any of them."

"where are we going?" you asked through a hiccup, your voice small and broken.

"i'm driving you home," he said. his eyes fixed forward, because he didn’t want to take a look back. he didn't want you near that house, or even remembering the address, and he damn sure didn't want you anywhere near his "brothers" ever again. "i'm taking you back to your apartment and i'm making sure you forget you ever set foot on that street."

he was driving with in silence, both of you too scared to say something that will dig an even deeper hole. san loved you so much and he knew he was at fault. he should have been firmer, should have told his brothers to go to hell the moment the bet was mentioned, but he’d tried to play the middle ground and lose you in the process.

"i'm sorry," he whispered after a few blocks, his voice thick with unshed tears. "i’m so sorry i didn't keep you safe, i just... i just wanted one thing in my life that they couldn't touch."

"you don't have me, san," you murmured, looking out the window as the city lights streaked by. "you never made us official, and they saw an opening."

san’s grip on the wheel tightened. he didn't say anything for the rest of the drive, because you were right.

when he finally pulled up to your building, and parked the car, before letting you out, he turned to you, his eyes burning with sorrow, because he didn't want to fight anymore.

"i'm not letting you go upstairs thinking you're just some bet."

before you could respond, he leaned in, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was a world away from wooyoung’s filth or seonghwa’s grace. this was raw, and completely, utterly yours. it was the kind of kiss that demanded a label, a sweet treat he was never going to let anyone else take a bite again. you let out a broken sob into his mouth, your hands finding his chest, and as the kiss deepened, the anger began to melt into a desperate need to erase every other touch you'd felt.

but as you pulled away and weakly smiled at him, even stepping out of his car… you couldn’t forgive him that easily.

the walk from the car to your front door was agonizing, because he followed you like a kitten getting attached to the person who showed him kindness once. the second you stepped inside your apartment, you turned around, ready to unleash every bit of remaining rage, even if he kissed you to tone it down,

"you're a total psycho, you're an idiot for keeping that from me, and you're a–"

your words were cut off by the sudden, overwhelming force of his body crashing into yours. wrapping his arms around you so tightly it felt like he was trying to pull you into his very ribcage. he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath shaky and hot against your skin.

"im sorry," he whispered, his voice cracking. "i'm sorry, i'm so sorry for shouting, for raising my voice, and for letting you go in there."

one of his hands moved to the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair and stroking it tenderly. the good boy facade was completely gone, replaced by a man who was genuinely terrified of losing the only thing that made his life bearable.

"i thought i lost you tonight," he muffled into your shoulder. "i watched them circle you like some maniacs and i felt like i was stuck. they don't understand. they think everything is a joke... but you're the only part of my life that's real. i'm so tired, (name). i'm tired of being their goody two-shoes friend while they disrespect the one person i actually care about. i'd choose you a million times over them. i just want to be here… with you."

you felt your resolve crumble. pulling back slighlty to look at him, seeing the honesty in his glassy eyes. he wasn't the perfect and composed san right now. he was hurt, possessive, and deeply, deeply in love with you.

"don't ever keep something like that from me again," you breathed, your hands reaching up to cup his face.

"i'll spend the rest of my life making sure you know exactly what you're worth to me. and it's a hell of a lot more than a hundred dollars."

he leaned in then, his lips meeting yours in another kiss that was so emotional, and filled with a silent plea for forgiveness. as he backed you up toward the bedroom, his hands never leaving your skin, you knew the night was far from over. he was going to reclaim every inch of you, erasing the ghost of every other man's touch until there was nothing left but him.

"i will make you mine.”

"and how would you do that?" 

"by showing you.”

he has never been here before but he knew where the bedroom was. living in a house as big as a mansion has its perks when it comes to orientation. 

san didn’t wait for another word, leading you to the bed, the mattress dipping under your weight as he sat you down. he started with your shoes, kneeling on the floor like a devotee at an altar. sliding the heels off, his thumbs grazing the arches of your feet before he looked up at you. the eye contact was unyielding, because he wasn't just looking at you; he was looking into you, searching for the girl he’d almost lost to the devil.

"i’m going to wash every part of that house off you.”

he stood up and began to undress you, but it wasn't a rushed fumbling. it was pure body worship, as he worked the zipper of your dress down with steady fingers, kissing every inch of skin he uncovered: the slope of your shoulders, the dip of your collarbone, the delicate curve of your ribs. he lingered over the spots where you felt most vulnerable, his lips soft and warm, murmuring praises against your skin that made your heart swell.

"you’re so beautiful, (name). so perfect… i don't deserve to even look at you," he whispered against your stomach, his breath hitching as he felt you tremble.

he let you undress him then, your fingers shaking as you pulled his shirt over his head and fumbled with his pants. as his shirt hit the floor, you took in the sight of him: the broad shoulders, the sharp lines of his torso, his toned chest and stomach. you had seen him like this countless times before, but now he was entirely yours. his touch remained sacred as his lips found yours in a kiss that tasted like a regret for the sins he committed.

moving down your body, his jaw grazing your throat. he paused when he saw the faint, darkening mark on your neck, the one wooyoung had left. san wasn’t angry at you, but he had to reclaim what was his. his tongue swirling over the bruised skin before he began to suck and bite, replacing with a hickey that was deeper, and fueled by a love that wooyoung couldn't even comprehend.

you let out a broken moan, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. he moved lower, his mouth worshiping your breasts and then the soft skin of your stomach. you felt your eyes flutter shut, the pleasure and the overwhelmedness finally catching up to you, but san wouldn't let you hide. 

"eyes on me, angel," he commanded softly, "i want you to see who’s holding you. i want you to know exactly who you belong to… so look at me."

you forced your eyes open, meeting his gaze while he positioned himself over you making you fully lay down, as he braced himself on his forearms, framing your face with his hands, since he wanted to see everything. every flush of your skin and every flutter of your eyelids. his cock was twitching against your thigh, heavy and wanting, but he waited until you nodded, until you pulled him down for one more lingering kiss.

san sank into you slowly, as he filled you, and didn't move right away, just stayed there, buried deep. you let out a shaky breath, your nails digging into his biceps.

"you feel so good," he groaned, the sound vibrating through his chest and into yours. "so beautiful, you're the only thing that's ever felt right, baby.”

he began to move, and it was the most honest thing you had ever felt. his thrusts were slow and deliberate, reaching deep enough to make your toes blunt against the sheets. every time he pushed into you, he tilted his head to kiss you again and again, as if he was trying to breathe his own soul into you.

"that's it, look at me," he whispered, you forced your eyes open, meeting his blown-out pupils. "i've got you, yeah? i've got you, angel. no one else is ever going to touch you and see you like this.”

his fingers interlacing with yours and pinning your hands beside your head, keeping you open and vulnerable beneath him. he started to pick up the pace, but his gaze never wavered. watching the way your throat worked as you swallowed a sob, the way your chest heaved, and the way your skin flushed.

“s-san… ahh-” a truly blissful symphony of your moans and whines graced his ears.

"you're so beautiful," he praised, because it was so hard for him not to worship your divine being. "angel, you're so precious to me. i don't think you even understand. you're my everything, princess. i won’t let anything happen to you again."

the way he said it with this bleeding sincerity in his tone, was what finally broke you. the tears started to spill over, tracking down on your face. you were crying because you were overwhelmed by the weight of being loved this much. you were crying because, for the first time all night, you didn't feel like a prize or a paycheck. you felt so incredibly cherished and adored.

"i love you," you choked out, your voice breaking as you arched your back into him, seeking more of his warmth. "i love you so much, san."

his breath hitched, and for a second, he stopped moving entirely. san looked at you with such aching tenderness that it hurt to look away. 

"i love you more," he promised, leaning to kiss the tears away from your cheeks. "more than anything."

his rhythm become a little desperate as he felt you tightening around him. he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his teeth grazing your skin, as he praised you through every heavy breath. the eye contact afterward was relentless. every time he moved, he watched your reaction become a cocktail of pleasure and pain. he called you every sweet name he’d ever kept bottled up — his girl, his angel, his princess, his entire world.

the pace picking up as you realized then that san didn't just want your body; he wanted your peace, trust, and your heart.

"mine," he whispered against your lips, the word final and absolute. "forever mine."

he let out a choked sound, finding his rhythm, his movements becoming more urgent but never losing that slow and worshipping edge, even if he reached his peak, his body shaking with the force of it, his voice a broken whisper in your ear. san wasn't just making love to you… he was rewriting the night, scrubbing away every lingering shadow of the fratness.

you couldn't hold back anymore. your back arched off the mattress as your climax finally crashed over you, wave after wave of intense, toe-curling pleasure that felt like it would never end.your juices spilled out, coating him, the wet and slick sound that only fueled his own undoing. your pussy squeezed him, gripping him so hard he couldn't help but chuckle. san was so sensitive, that he came deep inside you as he emptied himself into you, wanting to feel every last contraction of your body as you held onto him like he was your only life support. this wasn't the first time tonight, and it wouldn't be the last. 

you had lost count somewhere around the fifth or sixth time he’d made you come. his stamina was insane, fueled by very possessive energy that kept him going long after most men would have collapsed. yet, through every round, he remained careful. it was the most passionate vanilla sex you’d ever experienced.

"one more, angel, just one more," managing to somehow say it, tone teasing as he didn't stop, even as your body began to tremble with the aftershocks of your nth orgasm. he kept the pace steady, his large hands sliding under your hips to tilt you upward, deepening the connection between your bodies until the stars were dancing behind your closed eyelids.

"eyes on me, baby. don't go anywhere," his thumbs hooked into your hips, "look at how you take me. look at how perfect you are… you were made for me, (name). only for me."

the praise was a constant hum against your skin, interspersed with wet kisses that claimed your lips, your jaw, and the sensitive hollow of your shoulder. he was worshiping you with a filthiness that felt sacred — his words were dirty, his touch was demanding, but his eyes were overflowing with a devotion that made you feel like a real angel. every time you thought you reached your limit, he woud find a new angle, and murmur another good girl or that’s it, princess until you were spiraling all over again.

the final peak was a slow-motion collision. you felt the tension coil at the base of your spine, a spark that traveled through every nerve until you were arching your back, a silent scream caught in your throat. san felt it too; his movements became frantic, his breathing hitching into grunts and whines.

"my sweet angel," he groaned, his voice a broken prayer. "just like that, give it all to me."

as you shattered for the final time, san followed you as he filled you completely, his body shuddering with the force of his climax. he didn't pull back even an inch; instead, he pushed deeper, burying himself against your cervix as his spent muscles spasmed. he stayed there, making sure every last drop of his release stayed exactly where he wanted it.

finally, his strength gave out. san collapsed on top of you, his heavy and muscular frame pinning you into the mattress. he was a dead weight, chest heaving against yours, but you didn't mind the pressure. you needed to feel the crushing reality of him to convince yourself that the nightmare of the party was finally over. your own chest was rising and falling in frantic bursts, your lungs burning as you tried to catch your breath. 

san tilted his head, his sweaty hair sticking to his forehead as he found the strength to plant a shaky kiss on the side of your neck. "you did so good for me, baby," he whispered. "mm, you're safe. i'm right here."

you reached up, your fingers trembling as you stroked his hair, pulling him even closer if that was even possible. the tears were still there, leaking from the corners of your eyes. you loved him so much, a love that was messy and protective and finally, finally official.

san stayed there for a long time, just breathing you in, until he started to calm down and eventually, he shifted, groaning as he braced himself on his elbows. when he slowly pulled out, the sudden loss of him made you let out a soft, confused whimper.

"w-what?" you breathed, reaching out blindly for him, your mind still a hazy mess of dopamine and exhaustion.

"shhh, i'm not going anywhere, angel," he murmured, a sweet expression on his face that was a far cry from the possessive man who had just dismantled you. he looked almost shy, his bottom lip tucked slightly as he brushed a stray hair from your damp forehead. "i’m going to take care of you. also... where is your bathroom?"

you pointed wordlessly toward the door, watching him as he padded across the room. you had been with guys before, but aftercare had always been just a concept. usually, it was a quick reach for a phone or a clumsy apology before they fell asleep. nobody had ever looked at you with this much tenderness after the fact.

a few minutes later, he was back, gently coaxing you off the bed. you felt like jelly, your legs trembling so much you probably would have hit the floor if he hadn't caught you. he carried you to the bathroom. you didn't have a bathtub, just a standard shower, but san turned it into a sanctuary.

the man who had spent the last hour destroying your cervix and marking his territory was now behaving like a complete sweetheart. preparing the water at a perfect temperature, keeping you steady against his chest. he was so thorough and so gentle in helping you clean yourself. even started blowing bubbles at you until you were giggling despite your exhaustion. san was an adorable, muscular toddler who happened to be deeply in love with you.

once you were both clean and dry, you managed to dig out an oversized shirt for him. well, as oversized as a shirt could be for someone with his build. it clung to his biceps and chest in a way that made your heart skip, but he didn't complain. he looked comfortable, and entirely at peace in your space.

san insisted on changing your sheets, tossing the messy ones into the laundry basket while you sat on the edge of the bed in your robe. he wouldn't let you lift a finger. finally, he pulled the duvet up over both of you, cocooning you in a nest of warmth, smelling like your shampoo and body wash.

he spent the next hour just holding you, his fingers tracing the intricate lines of your palms as if he were trying to memorize your future. his lips were never far from your skin, pressing kisses here and there, telling you how he’d felt the very first time he saw you — how he’d known even then that you were trouble for his heart. he talked about the pain of watching you near his friends tonight, the suffocating fear that they would ruin the one beautiful thing he had.

you felt secure, tucked into him, your fingers tracing the hard lines of his biceps. you still couldn't quite believe he was all yours, that one of the frats had finally broken all the rules for you.

"san?" you whispered, your voice muffled against his chest.

"hm?" he hummed, his chest vibrating against your ear as he tightened his hold.

"what are you going to do about your friends?"

he didn't tense up this time, just pulled you closer, his chin resting comfortably on the top of your head as he spooned you, his strong arms acting as a literal shield against the rest of the world. he took a deep breath, the scent of your shampoo calming the last of his spiked up nerves.

"probably move out," he admitted, sounding a little unsure. "or at the very least, have a very serious talk about boundaries and what the word no actually means. i can't be in that environment anymore if it means they think they can treat you like that."

the quiet room was a contrast to the chaos you’d escaped, the only sound being san’s heartbeat beneath your ear. as the adrenaline finally ebbed away, a small seed of worry poked through the haze. you wondered about the shattered friendships, the tension in the house, and the weight he was carrying just to keep you safe.

"stop overthinking, baby." sensing your shift in mood, san tightened his grip, his hand sliding up to cradle the back of your head. "don't worry about me. none of that matters right now."

he began to ramble again, a soft stream of consciousness designed to drown out your racing thoughts. he talked about the most mundane things such as how he wanted to take you to that cafe by the river next weekend, how he’d seen a sunset a few days ago that made him think about a picnic date, and how he couldn't wait to just wake up next to you without a single place to be.

you felt yourself beginning to drift, your limbs turning to lead as his voice acted as a tether to a world where everything was finally okay. 

"you're my everything," he whispered into the crown of your head, "sweet dreams, my love."

with one final kiss on your hair, he let out a soft, contented sigh, closing his eyes, his body finally going slack against yours, his heart full with the simple joy of knowing that he had finally won the only game that ever mattered. for the first time in months, he was happy and whole now that he was finally resting beside his one and only. 

by the time you woke up, it was already afternoon the very same day. you found san in the kitchen, still wearing the oversized shirt you’d given him, stretching tight across his back, the hem barely reaching his thighs, and it's now that you noticed the dolce & gabana boxers. he looked like a devoted husband, humming to himself as he tossed pasta in a pan, spending the last hour in your kitchen to prepare a simple meal for you.

"good morning, sunshine," he murmured, turning with a smile so bright it felt like he was fighting with the sun itself. "i wanted to make sure you ate something before i had to go." 

you sat at the dining table, resting your head on your palm, as he served you a plate, and then giving you a kiss on your cheek.

"i just... i don't want you to go back there," you whispered, reaching out for the pepper, "yunjin is going to kill me when she finds out i let you sleep in my bed. she’ll probably burn the bed with both of us in it. "

he then watched you enjoy the pasta, sipping you water, giving you everything you need, and even washing the dishes afterwards. gosh, can’t he propose already? unfortunately, all good things come to an end, that resulted in him putting his clothes from yesterday and standing infront of your door.

"you know you can stay here.”

"as much as i’d love to hide out here forever and play house, i have to go back." pressing a quick peck on your lips, but his gaze turning serious as he pulled back and walked away to the elevator. "i'll call you the second i’m done. i promise, just let me handle this."

the frat house was silent when san stepped through the front door. which was strange, because he had expected the usual blaring music, and the smell of alcohol, and maybe mingi passed out on the couch. instead, and the smell of weed was replaced by a lemon floor cleaner. everything was spotless, even the shoes were lined up by the door. 

the first person he saw was jongho. the youngest was in the kitchen, his muscles straining against a tight gym shirt as he shook his protein bottle.

"hey, hyung," jongho said, his voice neutral. he didn't look guilty, because he hadn't been part of the betting pool, but he looked exhausted by the tension. "good to see you're alive."

san didn't smile. "where are the others?"

"hongjoong-hyung and seonghwa-hyung are cleaning the backyard. wooyoung-hyung... he’s in his room, hasn't come out since he did his chores couple of hours ago," the youngest replied, taking a sip of his shake. "as for the others, i don’t know. they’re laying low. "

"then tell them to get in the living room."

one by one, the boys filtered in. hongjoong and seonghwa looked disheveled, their clothes damp from the cleaning. yeosang was zoning out, mingi and yunho hovered near the back, looking like kicked puppies, jongho was the only one who looked at him in the eye without flinching. the only one missing was woyooung.

san stood in the center of the room, his arms crossed ovee his chest. he didn't yell. he didn't throw a punch. he just looked at them with a cold, piercing disappointment that was far more terrifying than anger.

"i’ve known and trusted you guys for years," san began, his voice low and dangerous. "i didn't think i had to explain to my best friends what the words stop and no meant. or that my girlfriend wasn't some trophy or prize to snatch. i thought i knew who you were, but the second i turned my back, you turned a girl i care about into some twisted game, and for a more than a hundred bucks… that’s what her dignity was worth to you?"

"san, we–" mingi started, but san’s gaze snapped to him, silencing him instantly.

"no. i’m talking. you don't get to defend it. you put money on her body and used the trust i built with her to try to get a score."

he cut him off because they failed him. not as brothers, but as men.

"you all sat in a circle and talked about her like she was some property." you planned how to corner her. if i ever, and i mean ever, hear any of you mention something sickening or breathe in her direction without my permission, you're losing a tooth… i was going to move out today. the only reason i’m not is that i want to see if any of you are actually worth keeping as friends.” that resulted in shocked faces with widened eyes, “do i make myself clear?"

the room went radio silent. unusually, apologies came in stammers: sincere from some, awkward from others. but he didn't stay to listen to the justifications, as he turned his back on them and walked upstairs.

later as it became evening with the sun setting down, san was in his bedroom, the blue light of his computer screen reflecting in his eyes as he tried to lose himself in a game. the tension in his shoulders was still there, because he didn't forgive them, not yet. egos were bruised, both theirs and his, trust was lost, but that’s just how the frat world work, or rather the men’s world.

knock, knock. knock, knock. the rhythm was unmistakable, because it was a code. san didn't look away from the screen as the door creaked open. wooyoung slipped inside, his movements cat-like, checking before doing anything. he didn't say anything at first, just walked over and sat on the edge of san's bed. a cola-flavored lollipop was tucked into the corner of his mouth.

"whatcha doin'?" wooyoung cleared his throat, the candy clicking against his teeth. 

san ignored him, his fingers clicking rapidly on the mouse.

"you still mad?" wooyoung tried again. "is it free-to-play? the game, i mean."

the good boy countied to ignore him by tapping on the keyboard.

"sannie? come on. talk to me." 

"i'm busy, wooyoung." 

"look, sannie," the blond sighed, his shoulders dropping. he reached up and pulled the lollipop from his mouth with a soft pop. "i’m sorry. i really am. i didn't mean to cross a line like that. i thought we were all just having fun, ‘ya know? i thought you’d be into the competition too. it was just a frat thing, we have done this before… well we, not you."

san paused the game. the silence in the room became absolute as he spun his gaming chair around to face his best friend. "she isn't a frat thing, woo. she’s my girlfriend. so if you ever touch her again like you did in that hallway, i don't care how long we’ve known each other. i’ll not tolerate shit like this."

"girlfriend, huh? moving fast, but okay. i get it, you are putting boundaries."

“she’s the person i love. do you get that?”

wooyoung stared at him, blinking from time to time, processing the information. "yeah, i get it. i’m sorry, man. won't happen again, i promise. she's all yours… so, we're good?"

san looked at him, searching for the lie, but wooyoung looked sincere enough. "we are… for now."

they talked for a few more minutes, a tentative peace offering made between two people who had been inseparable since high school. wooyoung stood up, popping the candy back into his mouth. "glad we’re cool. i’m gonna check on yeosang now. see ya at dinner."

"yeah. see you."

the frat walked out of the room, closing the door softly behind him. as soon as the wood clicked into the frame, the apologising mask fell. wooyoung stood in the hallway, biting down hard on the lollipop, the artificial cola flavor bursting across his tongue as the candy shattered into tiny shards. 

his eyes darkened, fixed on nothing. he could still feel the phantom presence of your body against the wall, the way you had tasted of sweet apple and surrender. he had told san what he wanted to hear, but his heart was doing something entirely different.

he wasn't sorry, not at all. he told san he was feeling awful, that he was just doing his usual thing, and he promised his best friend that he’d back off. but as he shoved his hands into his pockets and looked back at the closed bedroom door, he knew he was a liar. the bet was over, sure. san had the title and the official status. but wooyoung had the memory of how easily you melted for a bad influence, and if he had to play the long game, to be supportive… he’d wait for the cracks or any opening if lady luck was on his side.

pulling out his phone, scrolling to a photo he’d snapped of you earlier that night when you didn't know he was looking. 

"tsk, official my ass," wooyoung whispered to the empty hall, his thumb tracing the screen over your face. "we'll see how long that lasts, doll."

uneven thudding in his chest, a rhythm he hated, a weakness he hadn't planned for. it was a glitch in his system that occurred every time he closed his eyes and saw your pretty face.

san was the paradigm, the golden standard of a man who believed that love was a framework of protection and official labels. he lived by a set of rules that made him feel safe, as if the world was a map he could finally navigate on his own. 

you were the enigma, the puzzle that didn't fit into the frat’s predatory architecture. a riddle wooyoung couldn't solve, and the paradox of your surrender in that hallway was driving him to the brink of insanity.

the house was filled with stigmas. the collective disapproval of a society that saw them as nothing but high-status predators, and wooyoung had always worn that reputation like a badge of honor.

he turned and walked away, this time as a man who was no longer playing for money, but for keeps. his thumb grazed his lower lip, still tasting the ghost of your sweetness, and his eyes were full with a hunger that would make san’s heart stop. his best friend could keep the title, wooyoung was going to take the girl… after all, he had never been a good loser.

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© KISSSAN do not copy, repost or modify my work.

the screech that left giselle’s throat was deafening. they wanted the when, why, and how immediately. to them, you were clearly gone for him, astronomically down bad, head over heels, despite your denials of the word 'love.' they found your delusion cute, even if they secretly wished you’d pull a simba and run away and never come back.

“look, it’s fine! we aren’t even dating,” you defended, waving a hand dismissively. “we’re keeping it casual. just hooking up, you know?”

“yeah, because just hooking up usually results in hickeys so massive that nasa could mistake them for a new galaxy.” yunjin threw her hands up, pointing at the purple marks blooming across your collarbone. you’d tried on the high-coverage foundation, but even the best formula couldn't hide the evidence of his animalistic hunger.

you went silent, your fingers drifting to the sensitive skin where san had staked his claim. the memory was barely twenty-four hours old and still vibrated behind your eyelids. it hadn't been the plan, not at all. you were supposed to be practicing your driving, a simple lesson getting used to switching gears and doing left and right turns. but one lingering look led to a touch, which led to a bruised lip, and before you knew it, the windows were fogged with steam, and the car was rocking on its suspension. your panties were probably still wedged under the back seat. some details were definitely too much for the girls to handle.

suddenly, your phone screen lit up, catching everyone’s eyes.

“oh, it’s san,” you murmured, reading the notification bar while your friends leaned in like they were filming an episode of gossip girl. for two people who wanted you nowhere near the frat house, they were incredibly nosy.

san: last night was amazing. you’re amazing. i’m so lucky to have you in my life. <3 

your best friends didn’t like the hearts in your eyes, or how your cheeks started to gain rose-red color, a soft smile curling at the corners of your mouth. oh no, not on their watch. you were not going to be another victim of the frat-boy cycle.

“cut him off.” giselle didn’t even hesitate. “girl, ghost him and never talk to him again. and no, i don’t care how good that dick is!”

“but listen to me, he isn’t like them–”

“he is, and you know it. i’m sorry, but stop being delusional.” yunjin was there to prove the point even further, leaning forward with a look of genuine concern. “he probably only offered to help you drive so he could get you alone. make you one more body count on that list. he's part of that house, babe. they breathe weed smoke and toxic masculinity.”

you wanted to scream that they were wrong. that san was the one who made sure you were comfortable, the one who stayed stone-cold sober just to make sure everyone got home safe. sure, his friends were a chaotic mess of red flags and empty bottles, but he was the calm in their storm, their guardian angel at some point.

“he’s actually a good guy,” you whispered, though it felt like talking to a brick wall.

“maybe he is,” giselle sighed, rolling her eyes as she collapsed back onto her pillow. “but good guys don’t stay good when they’re surrounded by seven devils. the association alone is a crime.”

the room went quiet for a moment, the heavy 'man-hating' energy of the sleepover clashing when you looked back down at his text, your thumb hovering over the screen. you knew the risks, and you knew your friends were just trying to protect your heart, but they didn't see the way he pouted when he was sleepy or the way he’d patiently explained the brake-to-gas transition while his hand rested gently over yours.

“okay, enough!” giselle groaned, throwing a stuffed animal at your head to break your trance. “i am officially tired of the boy talk. my brain is rotting. if i hear the name san one more time tonight, i’m sleeping in the bathtub.”

“honestly, same,” yunjin laughed, grabbing a face mask from her bag. “no more men. pass me the snacks and put on a horror movie where the frat guy dies first.”

you giggled, finally tucking your phone under your pillow. the debate wasn't over, but for now, the girls were settling in, and despite their warnings, you knew exactly who you’d be dreaming about.

“so you fucked her?”

the question cut through the haziness of the room with WOOYOUNG sprawled out on his bed, one arm draped over his forehead while he held a joint in the other. a thin, grey ribbon of smoke curled toward the ceiling, carrying that familiar scent that clung to every corner in the house. san was next to him, as he didn't even blink. he just kept his eyes tracked on the plushie he was tossing upward: up, catch. up, catch.

“i wouldn’t use that term.”

“then what term should you use when you put your penis in her vagina?”

wooyoung was always the first to pry into his best friend’s business, because keeping a secret in this environment is like trying to hold onto sand — impossible and pointless. the frats had a reputation to uphold. they were the kings of the one-night stand, the legends of the blurred morning after. and while you were drop-dead gorgeous, no doubt about that, everyone knew you weren't exactly the type to fit into their world.

“look, i like her, okay?” san finally snapped, catching the plushie mid-air and hugging it tight to his chest. he turned his head on the pillow, looking at wooyoung who was staring blankly at the ceiling fans.

“i like her,” the stoner mimicked, a lazy grin spreading across his face as he took another puff. exhaling slowly, the smoke obscuring his features for a second. “man, you’re far gone. but c’mon, give me the details. did you finally get her out of those clothes? how many times did she cum? i bet she’s a screamer, isn’t she?”

san groaned, burying his face into the plushie. “wooyoung, shut up. it wasn’t like that. it was... it was actually really good.”

“it was really good,” wooyoung chuckled, his voice dropping into a filthy and playful tone. “that’s code for we tried every position in the book. did you have her against the window? i saw your car earlier... your windows had rather impressive hand prints for just giving someone a driving lesson.”

san felt the heat creep up his neck, the memory of your hands tangled in his hair making his heart do a clumsy skip. he didn’t want to tell wooyoung that he’d spent half the time just worshipping your skin, or that the way you looked at him made him want to burn the whole frat house down just to keep you safe from the chaos that occurred every second.

“we were in the backseat,” the man admitted quietly, his grip tightening on the toy.

“the classic,” wooyoung hummed, tapping ash into a tray on the nightstand. his eyes were red-rimmed and heavy, but his smirk was so smug. “just be careful, lover boy. the girls she hangs out with will have your head on a pike if you break her heart. and as for the guys here... they’re gonna give you hell for going soft.”

“i don’t care,” san said, and for the first time that night, he sounded completely sure of his decision. “let them talk. she’s worth the headache.”

“so, what position did you really have her in? did you do that thing where you–”

“wooyoung, seriously, stop,” san groaned, but his defensive stance was interrupted by the door swinging open so hard it hit the wall. YUNHO strolled in, looking way too energetic for someone who survived on nicotine and energy drinks. MINGI was dragging along behind him, looking like he’d just woken up from a three-hour nap after having his dick sucked.

“party tomorrow night,” yunho announced, clapping his hands together. “we need to finalize the invite list. we were thinking of some freshmen, so any suggestions?”

wooyoung took a slow drag of his joint and pointed a lazy finger at san. “how about san’s girlfriend? she’s pretty and smart, on top of her major, and gets a scholarship.”

“she is not my girlfriend,” san snapped, sitting up so fast the plushie tumbled to the floor.

“girlfriend?!” mingi yelled, his voice booming through the thin walls of the house.

within seconds, the hallway sounded like a stampede. the floorboards groaned under the weight of four other men racing toward the noise. SEONGHWA was the first to lean against the doorframe, followed by a skeptical-looking HONGJOONG, a judging JONGHO, and YEOSANG, who looked like he’d just been handed the best tea of the semester.

“what girlfriend?” hongjoong asked, crossing his arms. “san, really? the guy who spends his friday nights cleaning the kitchen while we’re out?”

it was a disaster. in this house, the word 'girlfriend' was a myth, a legend told to frighten the freshmen. they did hookups, situationships, friends with benefits, but they didn't do feelings. the mere mention of a committed title was enough to start a departmental investigation.

“none of your business,” san muttered, trying to look anywhere but at their smirking faces. “she’s no one important, just a girl in our university.”

“no one important doesn't get you out of the house to give her driving lessons,” wooyoung chirped from the bed, ruining san's life with a single sentence.

“bring her tomorrow,” jongho suggested, “if she’s just a girl, it shouldn’t matter if she attends the party.”

“no,” san said firmly. “she’s not coming here.”

he knew exactly what would happen. they’d tease and try to corrupt you, or worse, they’d make you realize that being associated with a frat boy, even a 'good' one, was a social death sentence. he wanted to keep you tucked away, a private piece of peace in his chaotic life. something for his eyes and hands only.

“he’s protecting her,” seonghwa noted, a smirk spreading across his face. “how romantic.”

“i’ll bet fifty bucks she’s here by midnight,” mingi whispered, loud enough for everyone to hear.

“oh, so we are doing it like this, huh?” yunho grinned. “i bet a hundred that san caves and brings her just because he can't stand the thought of her being home alone while he’s here.”

san watched them start to shake hands and pull out their phones to type something in their note apps. he wanted to keep you as his little secret, but the vultures had picked up the scent, and they were hungry for a show. wooyoung laughed so hard he started coughing, leaning back, his head hitting the pillow as he let out a slow, haunting cloud of smoke. he looked through half-lidded eyes, his grin turning into something far more predatory because the innocent teasing was officially over.

“if she’s not your girlfriend, and she’s no one important...” his best friend’s voice dropped into a smooth purr that made the hair on the back of san’s neck stand up. “then you wouldn’t mind if i asked her out, right? i mean, sharing is caring after all.”

san’s body went rigid, eyes widened in pure shock. “don’t even think about it, woo.”

“why not?” mingi piped up, as he leaned against the dresser. “you know the rules. nothing is official until you make it. and if you’re too scared to claim her, it’s a fair game. she’s a pretty little thing. i wouldn’t mind seeing if she’s as good as you say she is.”

“i’ll bet i can get her number before the party even starts,” yunho added, his competitive streak flaring up. he wasn’t even high or tipsy, just fueled by the pure adrenaline of the hunt. “hell, i’ll bet i can get her in my bed by next weekend.”

to them, you were a prize, a challenge to be won. the good boy of the group had finally found something worth hiding, and that only made the rest of them want to tear the secret apart and see what the hype was about.

“stop it. all of you,” san hissed, his protective instincts were screaming. he knew these men; he knew they were charming, reckless, and could talk almost any girl into a bad decision with a single smile and a hit of whatever they were smoking.

“oh, he’s getting mad,” wooyoung cackled, pointing a shaking finger at san. “look at him! he’s actually catching feelings. but sannie, you know how this works. if she comes to the party tomorrow, she’s in our territory.”

seonghwa, who had been quiet until now, let out a chuckle. “the bet is on, then. fifty bucks to the first person who gets a kiss. a hundred for a make out, three hundred if you get her in bed, and… san, if you want to keep her, you better step up your game.”

looking around the room at his seven best friends, the people he called brothers, and for the first time, they looked like the monsters your best friends warned you about. they were laughing, throwing out names of positions and places they’d take you, treating your name like a coin in a poker game.

everything here is a gamble, and everyone has decided that they are playing to win and keep the streak, so will san do a call or fold?

the following morning, san slipped out of the house early, the scent of beer and lingering smoke clinging to the walls behind him. he needed air, time to think and process everything, as he wandered into the nearby park. the boys were ruthless once the bet was placed, like sharks in a feeding frenzy, and he knew he couldn't protect you if you set foot inside that place tonight.

pulling out his phone, his fingers trembling slightly as he dialed your number.

"hi, princess," he said the moment you picked up, forcing his voice to drop into that honey-sweet register he reserved only for you. "how are you? did you have fun with giselle and yunjin?"

“i’m good… still sleepy.” he could hear the sleepiness in your voice, that soft and raspy tone that usually made him melt. you told him about the movies, the gossip, and how you baked chocolate-chip cookies, and how the girls had just left thirty minutes ago to study, since fashion and music majors never truly rested. 

"im glad you had fun," he said, offering a pained smile to the empty park. he took a shaky breath, the silence stretching a second too long.

"is everything okay?" you asked, noticing the weight in his exhale.

“so, listen to me,” san started, pacing back and forth in front of a wooden bench, his free hand shoved deep into his pocket. “there’s a party at the house tonight. it’s going to be a mess, okay? the guys are going to be drunk and high, the music is going to be way too loud, and honestly... it’s just not a good time for you to come over. i’ll come over to yours later if you want, we can go get food, just... stay home tonight, please?”

he held his breath, praying your protective friends had rubbed off on you enough to make you say no.

“actually sannie,” you said, your voice sounding confused but intrigued, “wooyoung texted me a few hours ago. he invited me to tonight's party, saying you were being shy about asking me and that i should definitely show up around eleven.”

san stopped dead in his tracks. the world seemed to freeze as his blood ran cold. oh god. fucking hell, wooyoung did the fuck not. that bastard actually did it. he remembered his best friend staring at his phone at 3 am, ignoring the beer pong game with mingi and yeosang, a wicked and rather too pleased grin on his face. 

“he texted you?” san’s voice was full of betrayal. “what exactly did he say? and did you... did you answer him?”

“i told him i’d think about it,” you replied, completely oblivious to the fact that you were currently the stakes in a high-stakes poker game. “he seemed really nice, though. he told me he wanted to finally meet the girl who’s been keeping you so distracted.”

"please, (name)... don't go.”

"why? it's not like you are my boyfriend or anything."

the words hit him like a physical blow to the stomach. it was the truth, since he hadn't claimed you. he hadn't given you a reason to choose his word over an invitation from his best friend. the trap was set for its prey to fall into. wooyoung wasn't just being a wingman; he was moving the chess pieces to win the bet. if you showed up tonight, you’d be walking straight into a den of seven men who had turned your existence into a competition.

"look, i just have a bad feeling. i don’t want you near people who have vodka and jagermeister mixed into their dna. believe me, i’m doing this for your own good."

"and i have a good feeling and would like to go. what's the worst that can happen?"

the worst? san’s mind raced through the horrors. the predatory looks, the nasty comments masked as flirt. wooyoung trying to charm his way between your legs, mingi or yunho trying to see how much you could drink. the risk of someone slipping something into your cup, the cameras, and the total lack of respect for boundaries once the bass started thumping.

he opened his mouth to tell you that his friends had put a price on your head. he wanted to tell you about the fifty bucks for a kiss and the hundred more for a night in their bed.

but the words died in his throat. if he told you, he’d lose you because you’d see what kind of people he associated with. if he told you, he’d betray the only "brothers" he had. he was trapped between the angel on his shoulder and the devils in his house.

"just trust me," san pleaded, his voice cracking, "don't come."

“san, you’re acting weird. it’s just a party,” you laughed softly, and the sound of your innocence made his stomach flip. “it’s not like i’m going to go and fall in love with your friends. i just want to see you… so, i'll be there around eleven," you said softly before hanging up.

san stared at his phone, the screen reflecting his panicked face. what was he supposed to do now? maybe make sure you stick with him the whole time, or he can even pick you up from your place and try to convince you otherwise, but you sounded determined to attend the party.

tossing your phone onto your unmade bed, you let out a heavy sigh. san was sweet, he really was, but sometimes his protectiveness felt less like care and more like a cage. why was he so against this? half the campus was going to be there, not just his inner circle of friends. you’d been seeing each other for months: going on dates, sharing meals, and, yes, having the kind of sex that made your toes curl, but he still hadn't put a label on it. he hadn't asked you to be his girlfriend, and if he wasn't going to claim that title, he didn't really get to veto your saturday night plans.

you weren't talking to other men; your loyalty was firmly with him, but you were young and bored. the thought of sitting in your room while the rest of the university was dancing and drinking sounded miserable. a party was exactly what you needed to feel like you again, not just as san’s secret.

and you definitely weren't telling giselle and yunjin. if san’s reactions were this, theirs would be enough to destroy planet earth. they’d probably stage an intervention or lock you in your room to "save you from your own bad taste," but they didn't understand the pull san had on you, and they certainly didn't know how charming wooyoung could be over a simple text.

is it so wrong to just want to have fun? you thought, biting your lip, turning your attention to your closet, pulling hangers aside, because the worst that could happen in your mind was a hangover and maybe your hair smelling like cigarettes, but hardly the apocalypse san was painting. if he were so worried about you being around strangers, well, you’d just have to stay close to him, or wooyoung, or any of the other seven guys who seemed perfectly capable of being human for one night.

your biggest problem wasn't a bad feeling or some mysterious frat house drama. your biggest problem was deciding between the tiny black slip dress that showed off the faint, fading marks on your neck or some of your skirts and tops. but you reached for the dress. if san wanted to keep you a secret, he was going to have a very hard time doing it tonight. you were going to show up, have fun, and prove to him that you could handle the frats.

arriving just like cinderella, you texted your prince charming that you were outside, and less than thirty seconds later, the heavy door swung open. san stood there, looking slightly frazzled, his dark hair pushed back and a simple black t-shirt hugging his frame, alongside some cargo pants. but then he looked at you… you looked incredible. his gaze traveled from your heels up to that tiny black dress, lingering on the soft glow of your skin. he looked like a man who had just seen a ghost, or an angel, and that alone made him want to turn you right back around and walk you home.

"hi, san." you smiled as he stepped out onto the porch, closing the door slightly to muffle the bass-heavy music. 

"you... you actually came," his hand instinctively reaching out to hover near your waist. "you look amazing. i mean, wow. but i thought... i thought we agreed–"

"we didn't agree on anything, sannie," you giggled, stepping closer to adjust his collar just to see him flush. "and thanks, you look good, too… but you look like you've seen a ghost. are you okay?"

"i'm just... nervous. so, stay close to me, okay?” he let out a ragged sigh, his thumb finally brushing the small of your back as he guided you inside. “it’s already getting rowdy in there."

it was 23:38 when you came, the party was in full swing, the pre-game long forgotten in favor of body-to-body dancing and the scent of expensive cologne and cheap tequila. you were an enigma walking through a sea of unfamiliar faces, a girl who didn't quite fit the frat-girl stereotype but was somehow the most captivating person in the room. as you moved through the crowd with san, conversations seemed to stall. heads turned, and the eyes of the other seven men in the house locked onto you like hunters ready to shoot the naive and innocent deer.

san was doing his best to keep his body blocked against yours, acting as a human shield, eyes darting around the room like a hawk. he was on high alert, and for good reason, until a hand landed firmly on his shoulder.

"there she is."

wooyoung appeared out of the haze like a fever dream. he was leaning against the wall with a cherry lollipop tucked into the corner of his smirk. his blonde hair was perfectly styled and straightened with a little black highlights, and he wore a pale pink sweater unzipped just low enough to show the lines of his collarbones and a glimpse of his chest, accompanied by black denim with a shiny belt. he looked like candy: sweet and completely addictive.

"(name), right? nice to finally meet you, pretty girl," stepping into your personal space, the scent of citrus perfume and a faint trail of weed swirling around him. he didn't wait for an answer before his eyes traveled down your body and back up, his expression one of unadulterated approval. "enjoying yourself, i hope?"

san’s grip on your waist tightened. "woo, not now."

"oh, don't be such a buzzkill, sannie." wooyoung was being cocky, and before san could react, the blond slipped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you away from your shielder. his touch was warm, his thumb brushing against your arm in a way that felt far too familiar for a stranger. "a girl this gorgeous shouldn't be tucked away in a corner all night. don't mind if i show her around, do you? she hasn't even seen the balcony view yet."

you looked at san, who looked like he was about to combust, and then back at wooyoung’s sparkling eyes. the thrill of the attention was too good to pass up. "sure," you giggled, leaning slightly into his side. "show me the way."

you started to walk away before san could even find his voice. just as you reached the edge of the hallway, wooyoung paused. he threw his head back, looking over his shoulder at san, taking the lollipop out of his mouth with a slow pop, licked his lips, and put it back in as he winked.

san stood frozen in the middle of the crowded room, completely disturbed. he watched his best friend’s hand slide a little lower on your back as you disappeared into the crowd. for the first time, he realized that "sharing is caring" wasn't just a joke to his friends; it was a warning that if you don’t care about something of yours, someone else would.

wooyoung led you through the house like a king walking through his own palace. every step on the staircase was occupied by someone smoking or making out, but the crowd seemed to part for him. he kept a hand on the small of your back, his touch light but possessive, guiding you through the sweaty mass of the living room.

"so, what do you think?" he asked, leaning in close so his lips brushed the shell of your ear, "do we live up to the rumors?"

you glanced at a guy passed out on a beanbag and then at the overflowing trash cans near the kitchen. "well, the house smells awful, and you definitely bought the cheapest alcohol available, so yeah, i’d say the rumors are true."

that made him chuckle, his eyes crinkling as he looked at you. "cheeky, aren't ya? i like that. usually, girls are too busy trying to impress me to notice the mess."

he steered you away from the noise, up to the second floor, sliding open the glass doors that led to the balcony he mentioned earlier. the air out here was crisp and cool, a contrast to the suffocating party inside. above you, the sky was a clear indigo, the moon hanging in a partial eclipse, and the view was really spectacular.

wooyoung leaned against the railing with his back, the pink of his sweater glowing under the moonlight. he reached into his pocket and put his lollipop inside a wrapper, only to pull out a small pouch, as his nimble fingers began to roll a joint. you leaned your elbows on the railing, side-eyeing the way he focused on the task, his tongue poking out just slightly as he licked the paper.

"you ever tried?" he asked, not looking up, though he could clearly feel your gaze.

"no," you admitted, shifting your weight. "not much into that kind of stuff."

"ah, i see." finally looking at you, as he lit his lighter, the flame illuminated the sharp features of his face for a second before he took a slow drag. he exhaled a thin plume of smoke toward the moon. "you live up to the good girl archetype, then."

you narrowed your eyes at him, the cool breeze fluttering the hem of your dress. "was that supposed to be a compliment?"

wooyoung stepped closer, the scent of citrus and sweet smoke swirling around you. he leaned down until he was level with your face, his gaze dropping to your lips before coming back to your eyes.

"of course, pretty," he whispered, charming his way out. "good girls are fun, but i’ve always wondered what it takes to make them break."

he held the joint out toward you, a silent invitation, his thumb grazing your knuckles as he waited. inside, you didn't know that san’s eyes were scanning the crowd frantically, looking for the girl he was so terrified of losing to the very man currently making your heart race.

you stared at the glowing tip of the joint, the rebellion bubbling up in your chest finally winning over anyone’s warnings. it’s just a party, you told yourself. you took it from his fingers, trying to look as cool as he did, but the thick smoke hit the back of your throat like a freight train. immediately, you were bent over, a hand clamped over your mouth as you let out a series of light and pathetic coughs. 

wooyoung threw his head back, a melodic laugh spilling out of him. “aw, there, there. you’ve got those big and teary puppy eyes now,” he cooed, taking the joint back before you dropped it. “you’re worse than when san tried to take a puff for the first and last time.”

“shut up,” you wheezed, wiping a stray tear from the corner of your eye. “i haven’t smoked before, and this is… it’s strong.”

“only the best for this house.”

his free hand reaching out to steady you, his palms resting at your waist. the heat from his hand seeped through the thin fabric of your dress. the sexual tension was enough to choke on, heavier than the smoke between you. wooyoung leaned in, his face inches from yours, his eyes dropping to your mouth with a look that said he was about to win the bet right then and there, playing you like a fine instrument, melting your defenses with nothing but a look. 

“you have a little bit of a smudge right here,” his voice so smooth as his thumb brushed the corner of your lip. he was closing the distance, his breath warm against your skin, and you were almost ready to let him, until the glass door slammed open with a violent thud.

“hey, woo! we need the keys to the suv, we gotta go get more alcho–” 

yunho froze mid-sentence, his tall frame nearly blocking the entire doorway. mingi stumbled in right behind him, shirtless and draped in enough silver chains to sink a boat. he let out a low whistle, sliding his black sunglasses down the bridge of his nose to get a better look at you. 

“woah, did we accidentally invite a k-drama lead?”

wooyoung didn't move his hand from your waist, but his jaw tightened with a flash of pure annoyance. he let out a frustrated exhale, rolling his eyes as he let go of you. 

“that’s (name). san’s plus-one for the night.”

“san has a plus-one?” yunho grinned, stepping onto the balcony and effectively killing the intimate vibe wooyoung had spent twenty minutes building. he looked so handsome in his ripped jeans and unbuttoned white shirt, his black jacket swaying as he moved. “well, san is currently busy trying to find a mop because someone puked in the foyer. we’ll take over from here.”

mingi didn't even wait for a response. he stepped in close, the jewelry around his neck clinking. “you don’t wanna hang out with this boring stoner all night, do you? come on, me and yunho are going on a booze run. we need a woman’s touch to make sure we don't buy more battery acid.”

“yeah, come on. we’ve got a car waiting and the night is young. don't let woo bore you to death with his good girl talk.” yunho had gently taken your hand, his large palm engulfing yours, before wooyoung could protest, he gave them the car key. mingi stood on your other side like a literal wall of muscle. they began ushering you back toward the house, and you looked back at the blonde, giving him a small shrug as the two tall men practically swept you off the balcony. 

the stoner stood alone, fuming inside like a volcano. putting the joint back in its place in his pocket, as he switched it with the lollipop, shoved it into his mouth, and bit down with an aggressive crack. he watched them lead you away, his eyes narrowed as he planned his next move. the game was just getting started, and the twin towers had just upped the ante.

walking between them felt like being caught between two skyscrapers. you had to tilt your head back just to meet their eyes, handsome jawlines that seemed to defy gravity. yunho kept the mood light, cracking jokes about the absolute state of the kitchen, while mingi was biting his lower lip every time his eyes raked over your curves.

"so, didn't know you were san's plus one. he never brings anyone here," mingi said, his deep voice rumbling in his chest as you followed them down the quiet upstairs hallway. you hadn't realized how massive this house was; every staircase and door seemed to lead to a place twice as big as the previous.

"mmm, i’m surprised he even invited someone at all," yunho hummed. he reached for a door handle and swung it open, revealing a room that caught you off guard. it was huge, centered by a king-sized bed and a massive gaming setup glowing with blue and purple led lights. posters of spiderman and vintage guns lined the walls, a strangely human touch in a house you thought only cared about booze and bodies.

"actually, wooyoung invited me," you admitted softly as both of them stopped dead in their tracks, turning their heads slowly to look at you with mirrored expressions of amusement and confusion.

"oh,” yunho asked, raising an eyebrow, because they expected you to be invited by san, not by someone else, but of course it was the cocky bastard. “did he really?"

before you could process the change in vibe, they moved. it was coordinated and effortless, like they’d done this a thousand times before. yunho stepped behind you, closing the bedroom door with a soft click, while mingi stepped into your personal space, forcing you to back up until your back hit yunho’s chest. bigger hands came up to rest on the tops of your shoulders, his thumbs tracing the line of your collarbone. mingi was right in front of you, looming over you with that toned chest, his heavy silver chains clinking as he leaned down.

"wooyoung has always been greedy," mingi whispered, his black sunglasses now on top of his head, so that you could see the hunger in his eyes. "but i think he's biting off more than he can chew."

can't blame the stoner, though. look at you, you’re smoking hot, and they can’t decide if they want to take you out for those drinks or just stay right here and see how loud you can get. would you scream, or are you more of the quiet ones? have you ever squirted before? do you want to know what the difference is between an average guy and two big guys when it came to size in pretty much every aspect of the human anatomy?

"we haven't even had a drink yet," yunho murmured against the shell of your ear, his breath hot, and you could smell the mint bubblegum he probably had, "we're perfectly sober and perfectly capable of taking care of you."

you felt a dizzying rush of adrenaline. your heart was hammering against your ribs like a trapped bird. the attention was intoxicating: to be wanted by two men who looked like they’d been carved out of marble was every girl's secret fever dream.

"you’re trembling," mingi reached out, his large hand cupping your jaw, his thumb tracing the line of your lower lip. "is it because you’re nervous, or because you like having both of us this close?"

they were sweet-talking you, their compliments falling like honey by telling you how lethal you looked in that dress, how your scent was driving them insane... a part of you, the part that had been feeling neglected by san's refusal to put a label on things, absolutely thrived under the tension.

if there's no ring on the finger, i’m a free agent, you thought, but then, the good girl in you flinched. you thought of san's frantic plea for you to stay home and how sweet he was to you. your morals were a heavy weight, pulling at your conscience even as your body leaned into the warmth of the two men surrounding you.

"you’re thinking too much," yunho whispered, his hands sliding down your arms to catch your wrists. "we’re just talking, princess. unless... you want more?"

"i... i should probably find san," you stammered, the name a little too heavy on your tongue.

"san?" yunho chuckled, the vibration of his chest hitting your shoulder blades. "san is a good guy. a really good guy. but he’s not here right now, is he? and like you said... he didn't even invite you."

mingi reached out, his finger hooking under the thin strap of your dress, tugging it just a millimeter lower. "san doesn't have to know everything. and we’re very good at keeping secrets. and in this house, we don't like to see someone as beautiful as you going to waste.”

you looked from mingi’s gaze to the closed door behind yunho. the temptation was a chance to be the center of the universe for the two most popular guys on campus. but the thought of the guilt waiting for you in the morning, and the look on san’s face if he ever found out, made your heart stutter in a way that wasn't just excitement. but as yunho’s hand found your waist and mingi’s gaze dropped to the lace of your dress, the guilt felt miles away. 

"just one ride," the taller whispered into your ear, his hands squeezing you. "we'll be real careful with you, i promise." 

your head was spinning. maybe that one puff of weed had actually done something, or maybe it was just by being sandwiched between two giants. you’d never even considered a threesome before; the thought usually passed quickly. but here, with mingi’s thumb dragging across your bottom lip and yunho’s breath hitching against your neck, you were ready to experiment.

you were nervous, sure, but it was a delicious kind of fear. they were big, capable, and the way they looked at you made you feel like something precious they were about to carefully unwrap… or destroy.

mingi tilted his head as he began to close the final few centimeters between your mouths. your eyes fluttered shut, your heart performing a frantic drumroll against your ribs — knock, knock.

"hyung, you here?"

the door creaked open before anyone could react, the wood hitting yunho’s back with a light thud. the sudden movement sent a chain reaction: yunho bumped into you, and you were shoved forward right into mingi’s bare chest.

yunho whipped his head around, his face a mask of pure irritation, only to see jongho standing there. the youngest looked completely unfazed, his expression calm as he blinked at his hyungs. from his angle, you were completely hidden behind yunho’s broad frame; all he could see was mingi looking disheveled.

"am i interrupting something?" jongho asked, his voice steady and almost dry.

"jjong, we’re a little busy right now," yunho grunted, trying to block the doorway again.

but jongho didn't move. he stepped into the room, and everyone in the house knew who was the strongest — he could probably snap a baseball bat with his bare hands, and none of the older guys wanted to find out what happened if they actually crossed him. more than that, he was a spoiled and manipulative genius who always got his way.

"san-hyung is downstairs looking like he’s about to have a heart attack," the youngest said, his eyes finally landing on you as you peeked out from behind yunho. a knowing smirk playing on his lips. "and i think i’d like to talk to our guest myself in private."

"hey, wait a minute–" mingi started, but jongho just raised an eyebrow.

"mingi-hyung, didn't you say you were going on a drink run? the girls downstairs are complaining about the warm beer. so go." it wasn't a suggestion, more like an order wrapped in a flat tone.

the wolf and the dog exchanged a look of pure defeat. they knew when they’d been outplayed. with a frustrated sigh, mingi put his sunglasses back, and yunho stepped aside, both of them lingering for a second to catch one last glimpse of you before trudging out like two kids who’d just had their favorite toy confiscated.

jongho waited until the door clicked shut before he turned to you. he didn't loom like the others; he just stood there with an air of absolute authority that was arguably more intimidating. and he was kind of adorable, wearing dark indigo denim jacket that matched his denim jeans, layered over a white tee, paired with a backwards navy baseball cap.

"you should be more careful," he murmured, stepping closer and reaching out to straighten a stray strand of your hair. "those two don't know how to play fair. luckily for you, i'm much better at keeping secrets."

he offered you his arm, a grin spreading across his face as he prepared to lead you away, leaving his hyungs to pick up whatever leftovers were left of the party, meaning the plenty of girls waiting for their chance, while he took the prize for himself.

jongho didn’t actually have any intention of making a move on you. while the others were losing their minds over the bet, he was mostly just participating to watch the absolute absurdy of it all. despite being the youngest, he was the only one who seemed to have a fully functioning brain tonight. sure, he had his girls, mostly friends-with-benefits situations that were low-stress and high-reward, but he wasn't about to act like a starving bear.

he noticed how glazed your eyes were, the weight of the night finally catching up to you. "you okay?"

"yeah, i think so... sorry, what is your name?" you asked, leaning slightly against the wall for support.

"jongho," he replied shortly, though not unkindly.

he led you up to the third floor, where the bass from the party felt more like a distant hum than a physical assault. it was a quiet hallway, mostly unused, leading to a spare room that felt like a sanctuary. he pushed the door open to reveal a space stacked with extra furniture and a mini-fridge that was, surprisingly, fully stocked. he grabbed a cold soda and handed it to you.

"this is where i hide when the girls my hyungs bring home start getting too loud, since it gets annoying at some point," he gestured toward the couch that was buried under a mountain of sprawled blankets. "sit, make yourself comfortable."

you sighed in relief and plopped down onto the pile of blankets, only to jump nearly three feet into the air when a muffled “ow!” came from underneath you.

you scrambled back, teleporting behind jongho and gripping the back of his shirt. "do you murder people in this house? don't tell me you guys are ghostface wannabes and there’s a body under there…”

jongho sighed, looking more tired than scared. he reached down and pulled back a thick duvet, revealing a very disheveled, very annoyed-looking guy with blonde hair.

it was yeosang. he’d been hiding out here for hours because wooyoung had been trying to pressure him into doing body shots off some random girl's stomach in the kitchen. the sleeping beauty was a sweetheart, really, a bit of a clueless himbo at times who just wanted to be left alone. he was technically part of the bet, but only because he didn't want to listen to the others nag him. actually doing something behind san's back sounded like way too much effort and drama for his taste.

"hyung? what are you doing here?" jongho asked.

yeosang rubbed his eyes, blinking up at you with a look that was more confused puppy than sex maniac. he looked like an adorable maltese for some reason. "hiding from wooyoung."

he sat up, his blonde hair sticking out in every direction, before putting his white cap on, matching the backward style of jongho. he looked at you, then at the soda in your hand, then back at jongho. "is the party over? is san cleaning everything alone again?"

"no," the youngest replied, "but i think she would like some peace and quiet after spending time with yunho and mingi."

yeosang looked at you with sympathy, something you didn’t expect from someone of their status. "sounds exhausting. you can hide here, too, if you want. i have snacks in the drawer and i promise i won't do anything funny… too tired for that stuff."

the more you talked to yeosang and jongho, the more the "scary frat" facade crumbled. they were actually pretty chill, and for a second, you felt like you were back at a slumber party rather than whatever this was. you decided to take yeosang up on his offer to hide, even helping them pick out a movie on the tv. seriously, even the storage room had a flat-screen. you wondered just how much money these guys’ parents were funneling into this house.

you ended up sandwiched in the middle of the couch. yeosang was to your right, jongho to your left, both manspreading a little, their knees occasionally brushing yours. you and yeosang were shamelessly sharing a bag of popcorn while jongho sat with his arms crossed, pretending he wasn't invested in the plot.

"i didn't take you for the type of guys to watch disney movies," you commented, staring at the screen where lightning mcqueen was begrudgingly repaving the road in radiator springs.

"it's a classic, and i like the soundtrack," yeosang sounded very serious, tossing a piece of popcorn into his mouth.

watching the movie made you feel a weird pang of nostalgia. you missed being a kid, but mostly, you just wished you were doing this with san. wait... san? you checked your phone and realized it had been over an hour and a half since wooyoung swept you away, and the whole strange fiasco started from having guys hitting on you every second.

"hey, i'll be right back," you said, shifting to get up. "where's the bathroom on this floor? i don't want to go back downstairs into that war zone."

"end of the hall to the left," jongho said, not taking his eyes off the screen. "don't get lost. the hallways up here are like a maze."

"thanks," you giggled, sliding out from between them.

you slipped into the hallway, as you found the door easily enough, but just as you reached for the handle, it swung open, and you froze.

standing there with long, raven hair that looked like silk, eyes that were sharp yet somehow incredibly soft. he was dressed in a way that felt both elegant and effortlessly swaggy, like he’d just stepped off a runway. the man stopped when he saw you. a beautiful smile spreading across his face as he took in your dolled-up appearance. he’d been waiting for his turn all night, watching his friends fail one by one from the sidelines. but now, in this empty hallway with no wooyoung to interrupt and no twin towers to hover... he had you all to himself.

"well," his voice smooth as he stepped out, effectively blocking your path to the door. "i was wondering when the star of the show would make her way up to me."

“excuse me?” you were utterly confused, because… the star of the show? you just wanted to use the bathroom before your bladder decided to quit on you. “nevermind, can you please move so i could use the bathroom? it's kind of an emergency.”

seonghwa chuckled, a sound that felt way too sophisticated for a house that currently smelled like spilled tequila. he stepped aside with a graceful sweep of his arm, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “of course. i wouldn’t want to be responsible for a tragedy.”

when you finished and stepped back out, you jumped a little to find him still standing there, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. he looked like a vampire prince guarding his lover’s coffin.

“kind of creepy to wait, don’t you think?” you mumbled, though you weren't actually scared, as he had an aura that somehow felt strangely safe.

“maybe,” he admitted, pushing off the wall. “but guests aren't usually permitted on the third floor. what were you doing up here anyway?”

“i was with jongho,” you said quickly. you didn’t dare mention yeosang; if this guy was the type to report back to hq, you didn't want to get the blonde himbo in trouble for slacking off on his hosting duties.

“you were with jongho?” seonghwa repeated, his eyebrows shooting up.

“yeah?”

“okay,” he said, shrugging his shoulders as if that explained everything. “well, now you’re going to be with me.”

before you could think, seonghwa’s hand found yours. his grip was firm but surprisingly gentle, his fingers laced through your own. he led you back toward the stairs, and as you descended, the wild life hit you again. the house was in full tilt now — people were wasted, dancing on furniture, and the air needed spiritual cleansing.

but the man didn't loosen his grip for a second, using his free hand to navigate through the crowd, keeping his body between you and the more rowdy guests. he leaned in close, his raven hair brushing your temple. “we’re heading toward the dj booth, okay? it’s easier to breathe there.”

he scanned the room as you moved. to the left, it was wooyoung, still looking irritated as he shared a joint with yeonjun and soobin. no, not going back to the competition. then he looked to the right and saw san, who was a little miserable, currently arguing with some guy who was trying to juggle empty glass bottles. thank you, next, he whispered to himself. the backyard was an option, the pool area was usually the final boss of any frat party, but at least the air wouldn't be recycled carbon dioxide.

the second the sliding glass doors opened, the temperature dropped. the backyard was illuminated by strings of fairy lights and the glow of the pool, where a few couples were already skinny dipping, their laughter echoing off the water. it was colder now, and you immediately began to tremble as the wind hit your bare shoulders.

seonghwa noticed instantly. without a word or a second of hesitation, he slipped his jacket off, draping it over you, the warmth of his body still clinging to the lining. you looked up at him, feeling small in his oversized coat. it was honestly unfair. how could a man be this beautiful? he was a frat boy, for god's sake. he was supposed to be a red flag, but right now, he felt like the only person in the house who actually knew how to take care of you.

“better?” he asked, giving you a small and reassuring smile.

“yes, thank you…” you dragged out the last word, trailing off as you looked up at him. so many attractive strangers had crossed your path tonight that you felt like the lead in a k-drama with a plot that was getting way too complicated to follow.

“seonghwa,” he said, nodding his head slowly as if he could read the confusion in your eyes. “my name is seonghwa.”

even his name was pretty. you felt a little shy suddenly, the weight of his jacket on your shoulders acting as a warm reminder of his presence. “i’m (name),” you whispered, feeling like you had to introduce yourself properly, completely unaware that your name had been the only topic of conversation in that house since three in the morning. 

you guys spent a few minutes just chit-chatting; he was flirting, you could tell, but he did it in such a... lovely way. it wasn't cocky like wooyoung or overwhelming like the twin towers. it was subtle, woven into his questions about whether you were actually having a good time, if the noise was too much, or if anyone had bothered you. he sounded like a true host, genuinely concerned with whether his beloved guest was satisfied, but his eyes told a different story. they lingered on your lips just a second too long every time you spoke.

he led you over to a deckchair that sat a bit like an outsider, tucked away in a shadowed corner far from the splashing of the pool. you sat down, the silence of the night wrapping around you, and for a second, you didn't know what to say, but he did.

“do you mind if i do this?” he asked softly, breaking the silence.

“do what?” you whispered back.

he didn't answer with words. instead, he reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering there before gently caressing your cheek. his touch was cool and smooth, making your breath hitch. seonghwa leaned in slowly, giving you every chance to pull away, but you were paralyzed when he finally captured your lips with his. you let out a soft gasp, surprised by the boldness of it, but within seconds, you were melting. it wasn't the hungry kiss you might have expected from a frat boy; it was sweet and incredibly soft. 

you found yourself moving in sync with him, your hands reaching up to grip the lapels of his jacket that still draped over your shoulders. seonghwa groaned softly into your mouth, his hands sliding to your waist to lift you as you ended up straddling his lap on the deckchair, the fabric of your dress riding up as you pressed closer to his warmth. his tongue swiped against yours, slow and possessive, as the make-out session felt more intense under the dim lights.

you were lost in him, your hands tangling in his raven hair, pulling him closer as you felt the solid muscle of his thighs beneath you. you didn't know about the bet, unaware that at this very moment, every guy in that house was technically down a hundred and fifty bucks. seonghwa had played the long game, waiting for the perfect moment to strike while the others played checkers. 

as his hands traveled down your back, pulling you flush against him, you forgot all about the crowded house, the good girl persona, and the realization hit you like a bucket of ice water. the haze of the party, the weed, and the thrill of the chase evaporated the second you felt seonghwa’s hand slide up your thigh. you weren't supposed to be here, more so, you weren't supposed to be making out with a raven-haired stranger while san, the boy who actually cared about you, was inside worrying himself to death.

you pulled away abruptly, your chest heaving. seonghwa’s lips were swollen and red, a faint sheen of spit making them look even more inviting in the moonlight. he looked confused, his dark eyes searching yours for the reason behind the sudden pull.

"what’s wrong, darling?"

"i–... uh, i–" 

you couldn't even find the words. your brain was a mess of strawberry soda and guilt. the faint taste of expensive wine on his tongue lingered in your mouth, and for some reason, the alcohol made you feel like you were parched.

"you are what?"

"i'm thirsty," you managed to choke out, making seonghwa chuckle. that made you feel like a child caught in a lie. he didn't push you, instead, he stood up from the deckchair. you were still perched in his lap, so you wrapped your legs around his waist for a split second as he rose, feeling the solid strength of his body before he gently set you down on your feet.

"come on, then," he said, taking your hand again. "let’s get you something to drink."

leading you back into the house, navigating you through the mess the kitchen had become, and pulled you toward the massive fridge. he knew you weren't a heavy drinker; he’d tasted the sweet, non-alcoholic soda on your lips during the make-out session. he bent down, his back turned to you as he scanned the bottom shelf.

"would fanta or cola do? or i think there’s some more of that strawberry stuff in the back..." he whispered to himself, reaching for a bottle. "wait, do you want ice with that or–"

he turned around, a can in each hand, and a question on his lips. the kitchen was empty. his expensive jacket was draped neatly over the marble counter, but you were gone. seonghwa’s eyes scanned the room, his jaw tightening as he realized he’d just been played. the gentleman of the house had lost his prize in the three seconds it took to pick a soda.

just who decided to be a thief this time?

the music in the living room suddenly shifted, the bass dropping into a remix that made the floorboards vibrate with a new kind of energy. and there, tucked into the shadows of the hallway leading to the dj booth, was the culprit — hongjoong.

he had his hand clamped firmly around your wrist, his whole vibe screaming "i’m doing you a favor". he didn't look like the others, well, at least the half, because the orange haired man had the same calming energy jongho and yeosang have. he looked like the captain of a sinking ship who was determined to be the last one standing.

"alright, sunshine. you've had enough for tonight," he muttered, pulling you into the darkness of the booth before seonghwa could even think to follow. "it's time you actually have fun."

what the fuck was even happening? you felt like a ragdoll being tossed between a pack of extremely attractive nutcrackers. one second, you were melting into the raven-haired prince of the backyard, and the next you were being yanked through a sweaty crowd by the guy in charge of the music. you weren’t even drunk, and you couldn't decide if that made the situation better or infinitely worse.

san was right. he was so, so right. you should have stayed in your pajamas, eating takeout and binge-watching some comfort show. but as the bass vibrated through the floorboards of the dj platform, rattling your very bones, any lingering anxiety was drowned out by the volume.

hongjoong was in his element. neon buttons glowed under his quick fingers as he tapped out rhythms, his headphones pushed back off one ear so he could hear the crowd’s roar. he was bumping his head to the beat, focused energy radiating off him. for a moment, you actually felt safe here, tucked away on this elevated platform where the ocean of people couldn't reach you.

looking down from this height, the scale of the party was terrifying. the house was a literal club, and you found yourself wondering again where the hell these guys got the money for a place with a professional-grade dj booth and tiered platforms. you scanned the crowd for a familiar face, but the others were gone. wooyoung was probably lost in a cloud of smoke somewhere; yunho, mingi, and seonghwa were likely still hunting for you; and jongho and yeosang were probably still hiding in their quiet sanctuary.

as for san... he was nowhere to be seen. you imagined him playing bouncer or frantically cleaning up a broken bottle in some corner of the house.

after a few more minutes of well-done and smooth transitions, hongjoong flipped a switch to play a pre-mixed set. slumping back into his chair, his chest heaving as he threw his head back and took a long, burning sip of what looked like whiskey. he finally turned his attention to you. he wasn't looking at you with the same hungry competition the others had. he was just... curious. taking in the tiny dress, the way you were trembling just slightly, and the fact that your lipstick was definitely smudged from your detour with seonghwa.

he’d seen the beginning of the night, and how wooyoung had practically snatched you out of san’s arms. then you’d vanished into the house, becoming a ghost until he happened to walk into the kitchen and saw you standing there like a deer in headlights.

"you're not what i expected," he muttered, the whiskey raspy in his throat. "i mean, you're really pretty, i get why they're all acting like idiots over you."

taking another sip, his gaze drifting back to the crowd. "but i see why san wanted you to stay away. you don't belong in a place like this. you're not exactly innocent, but this house... it's a meat grinder, sunshine. and tonight, you're the only thing on the menu."

he wasn't flirting; he was being honest, which was somehow more intimate than anything that had happened. reaching out, his thumb brushing a stray smudge of lipstick from the corner of your mouth, his touch surprisingly tender.

"you look like you're about to burst into tears or pass out," the dj noted, a small, lopsided smirk tugging at his lips. "so, do you want me to keep you up here where it's safe, or are you ready to go find your boy and get the hell out of this circus?"

the moment hongjoong mentioned san, the dam finally broke. your eyes welled up, the neon lights blurring into streaks of pink and blue. you felt small, overstimulated, and utterly exhausted by the relentless pursuit of these men who seemed to be playing a game you didn't have the rulebook for.

"i just want to find him," you whispered, your voice trembling as you looked at hongjoong. "this party is... it’s lit, i guess, but… you guys are exactly why i usually hate men. what is actually wrong with you people?"

"hate the game, not the players. it does things to the ego.” hongjoong didn't take offense, just looked at you with a knowing sort of pity, the whiskey glass clicking against his rings. “but if you're looking for san, he's probably in the gaming room, the one with the pool table and the arcade setups, or his actual bedroom. second floor, last door on the left at the very end of the hall. he usually retreats there when it gets too much to handle."

you blinked, wiping a stray tear with the back of your hand. "you have a gaming room too?” god, you are going to start stealing their jewelry and selling it on ebay, those guys are unnecessarily rich. you turned to leave, determined to bolt toward the stairs, but hongjoong’s hand snaked out and caught your wrist again. his grip wasn't aggressive, but it was firm.

“you sure you want to go alone?” he asked, glancing at the chaotic sea of people below. “i can walk you. honestly, i’m kind of worried about you. you look like you’re one bad interaction away from using those heels as a lethal weapon.”

you gulped, looking down at your sharp stilettos, well, he had a point. the house felt like a gauntlet now, and you didn't want to run into yunho or seonghwa again, or anyone else that was not san. it was not because they weren't attractive, but because your heart was already at its capacity. “you’ll actually help me find him?”

“i could use a break anyway,” he muttered, hopping down from the platform. “so, lets go.”

the walk through was like one of the rings in hell. hongjoong led the way like a captain cutting through a storm. you checked the gaming room first: a massive space filled with neon signs and the clinking of pool balls. you saw some familiar faces through the haze of smoke; hyunjin was leaning against a wall looking ethereal, while felix and jeongin were laughing over a game of air hockey. a few girls from your major were there too, looking far more composed than you felt. but san wasn't there.

“bedroom it is,” hongjoong said, pointing toward the dark hallway on the second floor. just then, his walkie-talkie buzzed, the crowd was getting restless without a dj. “crap. i gotta get back. you think you can make it the last five meters?”

“yeah,” you murmured, giving his hand a quick squeeze. “thank you, hongjoong.”

he gave you a polite nod and disappeared back into the crowd. finally, you were so close. you could see the door at the end of the hall, the one san had probably locked to keep the world out. you took a step, your heart leaping in anticipation, but before you could reach the handle, a hand shot out from the shadows.

your wrist was snatched, and before you could even scream, you were spun around. your back hit the wall with a muffled thud, the air leaving your lungs in a sharp puff. it was dim in this corner of the hallway, the only light coming from the flickering strobe lamps downstairs. you looked up, eyes wide and heart hammering against your ribs.

“found you, dollface." 

the voice purred. it was low, cocky, and dripped with that signature bratty confidence that could only belong to one person.

“wooyoung?” you breathed, your pulse skyrocketing.

he was leaning over you, his blonde hair glowing in the shadows, his face inches from yours. he looked devastatingly handsome, alluring if anything else, and a part of you wanted to push him away and run to san, but another part of you was currently being influenced by the magnetism of these men. he hadn't touched you anywhere but your wrist, and even that grip was loosening into a caress, but the way he looked at you made your knees weak. the stoner occupied the space around you, his arm braced against the wall by your head, trapping you so you don’t even think about escaping.

it felt like a twisted otome game, and you were currently stuck on the most difficult route. you were so close to the san ending, however, your choices led you back to the wooyoung ending. his eyes dropped to your lips, his smirk growing wider as he realized he finally had you alone, far away from any other distractions and disruptions.

"you've been a very busy girl tonight," he whispered, his thumb tracing the pulse point on your wrist. "i turn my back for one second and you're off with the twin towers, then making out with mister dracula in the garden. you're quite the little social butterfly, no?"

"i was just looking for san," you breathed, though the way wooyoung was looking at your neck made it hard to focus on your mission.

"san is boring," wooyoung countered, tilting his head. the lollipop stick poked out of the corner of his mouth as he gave you his signature cocky smirk. "he doesn't know what to do with a girl like you. he's too busy being a good guy to realize that you're starving for someone to actually take what they want."

he leaned in closer, the tip of his nose brushing yours. "i don't play by anyone’s rules, dollface. and i definitely don't like sharing my toys once i've picked them out."

your heart hammered against your ribs. you knew san was just behind that door at the end of the hall, but with the blond pressing into you and his eyes promising every kind of trouble, the door felt miles away.

for some fucked up reason, you didn't push him away. maybe the attention was a drug, and wooyoung was leaning in to deliver the highest dose yet.

"but i–... i'm with san," you tried to defend yourself, the words sounding weak even to your own ears.

"but you’re not," he countered instantly, "if you were his, you wouldn't be wandering my house looking like a frantic little stray. if you were his, i wouldn't even be allowed to look at you, let alone do... this."

he pulled the lollipop from his mouth with a wet pop and pressed the sticky, apple-flavored candy against your lips to hush you. you stared at him, eyes wide, as he watched you with a terrifying yet pleasant smile. you parted your lips just enough to take a small and tentative suck of the candy. it was sickly sweet, and the heat in wooyoung’s eyes flared. he was thinking about indirect kisses and if it count, about the fact that your mouth was now coated in his taste.

his hand, the one that had been caging you against the wall, moved. his fingers began to play with the ends of your hair, twirling a strand slowly before his palm grazed the shell of your ear. he was high, but the weed only seemed to sharpen his focus.

"look at you," he praised, his voice dropping to a filthy whisper as his other hand slid down to find the curve of your waist to hold you in place, "so obedient. such a pretty little thing. you have no idea what you’re doing to me, do you? you've got every man in this house ready to tear each other apart just for a glimpse of this."

he leaned in, his breath hot against your neck, cologne mixed with the alcohol. "seonghwa might think he won because he got a little taste in the garden, but he’s a gentleman, and i'm not. i don't want just a taste, princess. i want the whole thing."

his fingers hooking under your chin to tilt your head back. he pulled the lollipop from your mouth and carelessly flicked it onto the floor, as it clattered against the hardwood. wooyoung stepped even closer, shoving his leg firmly between your knees, forcing your stance open as he pinned you against the wall with his body. his mouth crashed against yours, and it wasn't like the polite kiss seonghwa had given you. this was rough, desperate, and tasted of sweet apple and smoke. his tongue swept into your mouth, claiming you with a hint of arrogance that made your head spin.

you were melting into him, your fingers clutching at the soft fabric of his sweater as his leg pressed higher, the movement making your breath hitch into the kiss. seonghwa might have secured his money, but wooyoung was determined to leave a mark on your soul that san would never be able to scrub off.

the darkness of the hallway felt like a heavy velvet curtain, swallowing the two of you whole and muffling the distant rhythm of the party downstairs. thank god it was dark, because the way you were falling apart under his touch was embarrassing. you were barely anyone in this social circle, noone special, just a girl with a soft spot for a guy who couldn't commit… but you weren't just a girl; you were san’s girl, and in this house, that made you the ultimate trophy. what’s not yours is always better. it's the oldest temptation in the world, the forbidden fruit that tastes twice as sweet because of the guilt, and wooyoung was a man who lived for the taste of things he wasn't supposed to have. 

the frat was beyond caring about the bet or the money at this point; he was driven by the need to mark you as his own. his kisses turned angry and hungry, a desperate struggle for dominance as his tongue tangled with yours, deep and demanding.

"fuck," he groaned into your mouth, his hands finally losing their patience, leaving your haird to travel down, as his palm burned through the thin fabric of your dress until he reached the hem.

you let out a muffled moan into his mouth when you felt his cool rings graze the bare skin of your thigh. he didn't hesitate, his fingers hooking into the silk and dragging it upward, exposing you to the chilled air of the hallway just for a second before his warm hand replaced it. he was all over you, knowing exactly where to press, digging into the soft flesh of your hip as he hitched your leg higher over his own, pinning you so tightly against the wall that you could feel the frantic thrum of his heart against your own chest.

"you’re so intoxicating," he growled against your lips, his voice jagged with edge of lust. "san has no idea what he’s wasting. he treats you like you’re made of glass, but i know you want to be touched like this, don't you? you want someone to stop asking for permission."

his hand slid higher under the dress, as his teeth nipped at your bottom lip, then moved down to trail wet, biting marks along your jawline. he was messing with your brain, his scent and his heat overriding every moral code you’d walked in with. he was filthy, whispering praises and promises into the crook of your neck that made your toes curl inside your heels. his teeth grazed the sensitive skin of your throat, biting down just hard enough to leave a mark so dark that it would tell everyone exactly whose hands had been on you.

the sexual tension rolling off him was suffocating, a tension that made the air feel like it was vibrating. he was a predator who had finally cornered his prey, and he was taking his time savouring the kill. every time you tried to catch your breath, he stole it back, his mouth relentless, his hands wandering into places that made you feel dangerously exposed. 

wooyoung was making you his, piece by piece, right under san's nose, and the fucked up part was that you were leaning into it, your fingers tangling in his hair, begging for what san had never dared to give you. fuck the bet, fuck the already broken rules, fuck the hundred dollars… all he wanted was to fuck you, and you were seconds away from letting him do it right there against the wall.

but suddenly, the spark was gone.

the weight of wooyoung’s body was ripped away so violently that you stumbled forward, your hands grasping at empty air. a sickening sound echoed in the narrow hallway as the blonde was shoved aside, his back hitting the opposite wall with a force that made the framed pictures rattle.

you blinked, your vision blurry and your lips swollen, expecting to see anyone, but … san, whose chest was heaving, hair disheveled, and eyes blown wide with a mixture of disgust and pure devastation. he had been looking for you all night, searching every corner of that crowded and sweaty house, only to find you pinned under his best friend. the betrayal was written in the lines of his face. he looked hurt, like his heart had been physically cracked open, but he didn't give himself time to process the pain.

wooyoung stayed leaning against the wall, rubbing his arm where the shove had left a dull ache. he didn't look guilty; he just stared at san with a defiant look, his chest still pumping with the leftover adrenaline of the make-out session. your brows furrowed, your heart dropping into your stomach as you looked at wooyoung, your mouth opening to ask if he was okay, but before a single word could leave your lips, a hand clamped around yours.

"we are leaving," san’s grip was tight, not enough to bruise, but to show he wasn't letting you go for anything in the world. 

he didn't look at wooyoung, didn't even look at you. he just turned and dragged you down the stairs, weaving through the drunken crowd like a man on a mission. the noise of the party was a dull roar in your ears, a background hum to the frantic beat of your own heart. you felt the cool night air hit your face as he yanked open the front door and slammed it shut behind you. the silence of the driveway was deafening. san was already rummaging through the pocket of his jeans, the metallic jingle of his car keys sharp in the quiet night as he headed for where he has parked.

you stood there, your dress wrinkled and your lipstick smeared, unable to even process what was happening. the transition from the filthy heat of wooyoung to the icy fury of san was too much. you were caught in the middle of a war you didn't even know was being fought.

san opened the door for you, and didn't say a word as you slid into the passenger seat, and he didn't wait for you to settle before he was around the other side, throwing himself into the driver's seat. he started the engine, the roar of the car filling the small space, but he didn't put it in gear.

instead, he sat there, taking a few deep breaths, the sound of his lungs struggling for air the only thing cutting through the tension. a disappointed sigh escaped him as he ran both hands down his face, dragging the skin tight before throwing his head back. his skull hitting the headrest sounded like a punctuation mark. finally, he turned his head to look at you, taking in your trembling frame and your confused, teary eyes.

"this is why i didn't want you here," he whispered, his voice cracking under the weight of his anger. "or anywhere near them. because my fucking god, (name). i told you to listen to me and you didn't. you just do whatever you want because you’re so sure you can control it. you’re so sure you know them."

"san, i–"

"i was worried sick!" he shouted, his hands slamming against the steering wheel. "i turned around for five seconds and you were gone. i’ve been pacing this house, checking every room, thinking someone might have spiked your drink, drugged you... and then i find you in that hallway with him?"

you felt the sting of his words, the guilt of the make-out session with wooyoung still hot on your skin, but the confusion was winning.

"i didn't know things would go that way!" you shot back, your voice trembling as you fought to defend yourself. "i was just trying to have fun. i didn't know i’d be snatched up every thirty minutes by someone else. and i still don't understand why you’re so overprotective, it’s just a party, san. it’s normal for guys to flirt!"

san let out a dry and very bitter laugh, as he looked at you, his eyes full with a truth that was about to shatter everything.

"you think that was flirting? you think they just happened to find you attractive at the same time?" he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a deadly warning, "they fucking made a bet about you, (name). the second you walked through that door, you weren't a guest. you were another doll to be toyed with. they've been betting money and putting their goddamn egos on the line for your body. who could get a kiss, who could get you in bed... it was a bet."

the world felt like it stopped spinning. the air in your lungs turned to lead as the pieces of the night finally clicked into place — the way wooyoung snatched you, the way seonghwa waited by the bathroom, the way mingi and yunho hovered. it wasn't attraction, it was just for the thrill of the game.

"a bet?" you whispered, the word tasting like ash. "they... they were betting on me?"

san turned away, unable to look at the heartbreak on your face. "three hundred, that was the price for their best friend's girl."

suddenly, the guilt was gone, and you felt pathetic. you felt used, and most of all, you felt betrayed by the one person who was supposed to have your back.

"and you kept that away from me?" you demanded, your voice rising through choked out sob. "you knew they were treating me like a piece of meat for money and you didn't tell me? you just let me walk into that house like a lamb to the slaughter?"

"i was trying to protect you!"

"no, san!" you cried, a tear finally escaping and rolling down your cheek. "you weren't protecting me. you were protecting your pride. you let me look like a fool while your friends took turns seeing how much they could get away with. you let me stay in the dark while they were doing this behind your back. god, i feel so disgusting."

the car was vibrating with the force of your shared breathing, a heavy, suffocating silence following the revelation of the bet. the tears were coming fast now, hot and thick, blurring the dashboard lights as you curled into yourself. you felt like a prize in a game you never signed up for, and every touch you’d enjoyed, every smirk from wooyoung and every soft word from seonghwa, even being sandwiched between yunho and mingi, now felt like a stain. you have to realize that only three of them kept their hands off you, and you don’t even know if it was genuine or just for tonight.

"i was going to tell you…" san’s voice broke, his fingers gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were white. "i swear, i tried, but you wouldn't listen! you were so determined to prove me wrong, that you didn't give me a single second to explain why i was actually terrified."

"you should have said it anyway!" you shouted back. "you let me go in there. you let me... i let them touch me, san. i let wooyoung–"

"don't," he snapped, as he threw the car into motion, the tires screeching against the asphalt as he tore out of the driveway. "don't talk about him. don't talk about any of them."

"where are we going?" you asked through a hiccup, your voice small and broken.

"i'm driving you home," he said. his eyes fixed forward, because he didn’t want to take a look back. he didn't want you near that house, or even remembering the address, and he damn sure didn't want you anywhere near his "brothers" ever again. "i'm taking you back to your apartment and i'm making sure you forget you ever set foot on that street."

he was driving with in silence, both of you too scared to say something that will dig an even deeper hole. san loved you so much and he knew he was at fault. he should have been firmer, should have told his brothers to go to hell the moment the bet was mentioned, but he’d tried to play the middle ground and lose you in the process.

"i'm sorry," he whispered after a few blocks, his voice thick with unshed tears. "i’m so sorry i didn't keep you safe, i just... i just wanted one thing in my life that they couldn't touch."

"you don't have me, san," you murmured, looking out the window as the city lights streaked by. "you never made us official, and they saw an opening."

san’s grip on the wheel tightened. he didn't say anything for the rest of the drive, because you were right.

when he finally pulled up to your building, and parked the car, before letting you out, he turned to you, his eyes burning with sorrow, because he didn't want to fight anymore.

"i'm not letting you go upstairs thinking you're just some bet."

before you could respond, he leaned in, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was a world away from wooyoung’s filth or seonghwa’s grace. this was raw, and completely, utterly yours. it was the kind of kiss that demanded a label, a sweet treat he was never going to let anyone else take a bite again. you let out a broken sob into his mouth, your hands finding his chest, and as the kiss deepened, the anger began to melt into a desperate need to erase every other touch you'd felt.

but as you pulled away and weakly smiled at him, even stepping out of his car… you couldn’t forgive him that easily.

the walk from the car to your front door was agonizing, because he followed you like a kitten getting attached to the person who showed him kindness once. the second you stepped inside your apartment, you turned around, ready to unleash every bit of remaining rage, even if he kissed you to tone it down,

"you're a total psycho, you're an idiot for keeping that from me, and you're a–"

your words were cut off by the sudden, overwhelming force of his body crashing into yours. wrapping his arms around you so tightly it felt like he was trying to pull you into his very ribcage. he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath shaky and hot against your skin.

"im sorry," he whispered, his voice cracking. "i'm sorry, i'm so sorry for shouting, for raising my voice, and for letting you go in there."

one of his hands moved to the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair and stroking it tenderly. the good boy facade was completely gone, replaced by a man who was genuinely terrified of losing the only thing that made his life bearable.

"i thought i lost you tonight," he muffled into your shoulder. "i watched them circle you like some maniacs and i felt like i was stuck. they don't understand. they think everything is a joke... but you're the only part of my life that's real. i'm so tired, (name). i'm tired of being their goody two-shoes friend while they disrespect the one person i actually care about. i'd choose you a million times over them. i just want to be here… with you."

you felt your resolve crumble. pulling back slighlty to look at him, seeing the honesty in his glassy eyes. he wasn't the perfect and composed san right now. he was hurt, possessive, and deeply, deeply in love with you.

"don't ever keep something like that from me again," you breathed, your hands reaching up to cup his face.

"i'll spend the rest of my life making sure you know exactly what you're worth to me. and it's a hell of a lot more than a hundred dollars."

he leaned in then, his lips meeting yours in another kiss that was so emotional, and filled with a silent plea for forgiveness. as he backed you up toward the bedroom, his hands never leaving your skin, you knew the night was far from over. he was going to reclaim every inch of you, erasing the ghost of every other man's touch until there was nothing left but him.

"i will make you mine.”

"and how would you do that?" 

"by showing you.”

he has never been here before but he knew where the bedroom was. living in a house as big as a mansion has its perks when it comes to orientation. 

san didn’t wait for another word, leading you to the bed, the mattress dipping under your weight as he sat you down. he started with your shoes, kneeling on the floor like a devotee at an altar. sliding the heels off, his thumbs grazing the arches of your feet before he looked up at you. the eye contact was unyielding, because he wasn't just looking at you; he was looking into you, searching for the girl he’d almost lost to the devil.

"i’m going to wash every part of that house off you.”

he stood up and began to undress you, but it wasn't a rushed fumbling. it was pure body worship, as he worked the zipper of your dress down with steady fingers, kissing every inch of skin he uncovered: the slope of your shoulders, the dip of your collarbone, the delicate curve of your ribs. he lingered over the spots where you felt most vulnerable, his lips soft and warm, murmuring praises against your skin that made your heart swell.

"you’re so beautiful, (name). so perfect… i don't deserve to even look at you," he whispered against your stomach, his breath hitching as he felt you tremble.

he let you undress him then, your fingers shaking as you pulled his shirt over his head and fumbled with his pants. as his shirt hit the floor, you took in the sight of him: the broad shoulders, the sharp lines of his torso, his toned chest and stomach. you had seen him like this countless times before, but now he was entirely yours. his touch remained sacred as his lips found yours in a kiss that tasted like a regret for the sins he committed.

moving down your body, his jaw grazing your throat. he paused when he saw the faint, darkening mark on your neck, the one wooyoung had left. san wasn’t angry at you, but he had to reclaim what was his. his tongue swirling over the bruised skin before he began to suck and bite, replacing with a hickey that was deeper, and fueled by a love that wooyoung couldn't even comprehend.

you let out a broken moan, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. he moved lower, his mouth worshiping your breasts and then the soft skin of your stomach. you felt your eyes flutter shut, the pleasure and the overwhelmedness finally catching up to you, but san wouldn't let you hide. 

"eyes on me, angel," he commanded softly, "i want you to see who’s holding you. i want you to know exactly who you belong to… so look at me."

you forced your eyes open, meeting his gaze while he positioned himself over you making you fully lay down, as he braced himself on his forearms, framing your face with his hands, since he wanted to see everything. every flush of your skin and every flutter of your eyelids. his cock was twitching against your thigh, heavy and wanting, but he waited until you nodded, until you pulled him down for one more lingering kiss.

san sank into you slowly, as he filled you, and didn't move right away, just stayed there, buried deep. you let out a shaky breath, your nails digging into his biceps.

"you feel so good," he groaned, the sound vibrating through his chest and into yours. "so beautiful, you're the only thing that's ever felt right, baby.”

he began to move, and it was the most honest thing you had ever felt. his thrusts were slow and deliberate, reaching deep enough to make your toes blunt against the sheets. every time he pushed into you, he tilted his head to kiss you again and again, as if he was trying to breathe his own soul into you.

"that's it, look at me," he whispered, you forced your eyes open, meeting his blown-out pupils. "i've got you, yeah? i've got you, angel. no one else is ever going to touch you and see you like this.”

his fingers interlacing with yours and pinning your hands beside your head, keeping you open and vulnerable beneath him. he started to pick up the pace, but his gaze never wavered. watching the way your throat worked as you swallowed a sob, the way your chest heaved, and the way your skin flushed.

“s-san… ahh-” a truly blissful symphony of your moans and whines graced his ears.

"you're so beautiful," he praised, because it was so hard for him not to worship your divine being. "angel, you're so precious to me. i don't think you even understand. you're my everything, princess. i won’t let anything happen to you again."

the way he said it with this bleeding sincerity in his tone, was what finally broke you. the tears started to spill over, tracking down on your face. you were crying because you were overwhelmed by the weight of being loved this much. you were crying because, for the first time all night, you didn't feel like a prize or a paycheck. you felt so incredibly cherished and adored.

"i love you," you choked out, your voice breaking as you arched your back into him, seeking more of his warmth. "i love you so much, san."

his breath hitched, and for a second, he stopped moving entirely. san looked at you with such aching tenderness that it hurt to look away. 

"i love you more," he promised, leaning to kiss the tears away from your cheeks. "more than anything."

his rhythm become a little desperate as he felt you tightening around him. he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his teeth grazing your skin, as he praised you through every heavy breath. the eye contact afterward was relentless. every time he moved, he watched your reaction become a cocktail of pleasure and pain. he called you every sweet name he’d ever kept bottled up — his girl, his angel, his princess, his entire world.

the pace picking up as you realized then that san didn't just want your body; he wanted your peace, trust, and your heart.

"mine," he whispered against your lips, the word final and absolute. "forever mine."

he let out a choked sound, finding his rhythm, his movements becoming more urgent but never losing that slow and worshipping edge, even if he reached his peak, his body shaking with the force of it, his voice a broken whisper in your ear. san wasn't just making love to you… he was rewriting the night, scrubbing away every lingering shadow of the fratness.

you couldn't hold back anymore. your back arched off the mattress as your climax finally crashed over you, wave after wave of intense, toe-curling pleasure that felt like it would never end.your juices spilled out, coating him, the wet and slick sound that only fueled his own undoing. your pussy squeezed him, gripping him so hard he couldn't help but chuckle. san was so sensitive, that he came deep inside you as he emptied himself into you, wanting to feel every last contraction of your body as you held onto him like he was your only life support. this wasn't the first time tonight, and it wouldn't be the last. 

you had lost count somewhere around the fifth or sixth time he’d made you come. his stamina was insane, fueled by very possessive energy that kept him going long after most men would have collapsed. yet, through every round, he remained careful. it was the most passionate vanilla sex you’d ever experienced.

"one more, angel, just one more," managing to somehow say it, tone teasing as he didn't stop, even as your body began to tremble with the aftershocks of your nth orgasm. he kept the pace steady, his large hands sliding under your hips to tilt you upward, deepening the connection between your bodies until the stars were dancing behind your closed eyelids.

"eyes on me, baby. don't go anywhere," his thumbs hooked into your hips, "look at how you take me. look at how perfect you are… you were made for me, (name). only for me."

the praise was a constant hum against your skin, interspersed with wet kisses that claimed your lips, your jaw, and the sensitive hollow of your shoulder. he was worshiping you with a filthiness that felt sacred — his words were dirty, his touch was demanding, but his eyes were overflowing with a devotion that made you feel like a real angel. every time you thought you reached your limit, he woud find a new angle, and murmur another good girl or that’s it, princess until you were spiraling all over again.

the final peak was a slow-motion collision. you felt the tension coil at the base of your spine, a spark that traveled through every nerve until you were arching your back, a silent scream caught in your throat. san felt it too; his movements became frantic, his breathing hitching into grunts and whines.

"my sweet angel," he groaned, his voice a broken prayer. "just like that, give it all to me."

as you shattered for the final time, san followed you as he filled you completely, his body shuddering with the force of his climax. he didn't pull back even an inch; instead, he pushed deeper, burying himself against your cervix as his spent muscles spasmed. he stayed there, making sure every last drop of his release stayed exactly where he wanted it.

finally, his strength gave out. san collapsed on top of you, his heavy and muscular frame pinning you into the mattress. he was a dead weight, chest heaving against yours, but you didn't mind the pressure. you needed to feel the crushing reality of him to convince yourself that the nightmare of the party was finally over. your own chest was rising and falling in frantic bursts, your lungs burning as you tried to catch your breath. 

san tilted his head, his sweaty hair sticking to his forehead as he found the strength to plant a shaky kiss on the side of your neck. "you did so good for me, baby," he whispered. "mm, you're safe. i'm right here."

you reached up, your fingers trembling as you stroked his hair, pulling him even closer if that was even possible. the tears were still there, leaking from the corners of your eyes. you loved him so much, a love that was messy and protective and finally, finally official.

san stayed there for a long time, just breathing you in, until he started to calm down and eventually, he shifted, groaning as he braced himself on his elbows. when he slowly pulled out, the sudden loss of him made you let out a soft, confused whimper.

"w-what?" you breathed, reaching out blindly for him, your mind still a hazy mess of dopamine and exhaustion.

"shhh, i'm not going anywhere, angel," he murmured, a sweet expression on his face that was a far cry from the possessive man who had just dismantled you. he looked almost shy, his bottom lip tucked slightly as he brushed a stray hair from your damp forehead. "i’m going to take care of you. also... where is your bathroom?"

you pointed wordlessly toward the door, watching him as he padded across the room. you had been with guys before, but aftercare had always been just a concept. usually, it was a quick reach for a phone or a clumsy apology before they fell asleep. nobody had ever looked at you with this much tenderness after the fact.

a few minutes later, he was back, gently coaxing you off the bed. you felt like jelly, your legs trembling so much you probably would have hit the floor if he hadn't caught you. he carried you to the bathroom. you didn't have a bathtub, just a standard shower, but san turned it into a sanctuary.

the man who had spent the last hour destroying your cervix and marking his territory was now behaving like a complete sweetheart. preparing the water at a perfect temperature, keeping you steady against his chest. he was so thorough and so gentle in helping you clean yourself. even started blowing bubbles at you until you were giggling despite your exhaustion. san was an adorable, muscular toddler who happened to be deeply in love with you.

once you were both clean and dry, you managed to dig out an oversized shirt for him. well, as oversized as a shirt could be for someone with his build. it clung to his biceps and chest in a way that made your heart skip, but he didn't complain. he looked comfortable, and entirely at peace in your space.

san insisted on changing your sheets, tossing the messy ones into the laundry basket while you sat on the edge of the bed in your robe. he wouldn't let you lift a finger. finally, he pulled the duvet up over both of you, cocooning you in a nest of warmth, smelling like your shampoo and body wash.

he spent the next hour just holding you, his fingers tracing the intricate lines of your palms as if he were trying to memorize your future. his lips were never far from your skin, pressing kisses here and there, telling you how he’d felt the very first time he saw you — how he’d known even then that you were trouble for his heart. he talked about the pain of watching you near his friends tonight, the suffocating fear that they would ruin the one beautiful thing he had.

you felt secure, tucked into him, your fingers tracing the hard lines of his biceps. you still couldn't quite believe he was all yours, that one of the frats had finally broken all the rules for you.

"san?" you whispered, your voice muffled against his chest.

"hm?" he hummed, his chest vibrating against your ear as he tightened his hold.

"what are you going to do about your friends?"

he didn't tense up this time, just pulled you closer, his chin resting comfortably on the top of your head as he spooned you, his strong arms acting as a literal shield against the rest of the world. he took a deep breath, the scent of your shampoo calming the last of his spiked up nerves.

"probably move out," he admitted, sounding a little unsure. "or at the very least, have a very serious talk about boundaries and what the word no actually means. i can't be in that environment anymore if it means they think they can treat you like that."

the quiet room was a contrast to the chaos you’d escaped, the only sound being san’s heartbeat beneath your ear. as the adrenaline finally ebbed away, a small seed of worry poked through the haze. you wondered about the shattered friendships, the tension in the house, and the weight he was carrying just to keep you safe.

"stop overthinking, baby." sensing your shift in mood, san tightened his grip, his hand sliding up to cradle the back of your head. "don't worry about me. none of that matters right now."

he began to ramble again, a soft stream of consciousness designed to drown out your racing thoughts. he talked about the most mundane things such as how he wanted to take you to that cafe by the river next weekend, how he’d seen a sunset a few days ago that made him think about a picnic date, and how he couldn't wait to just wake up next to you without a single place to be.

you felt yourself beginning to drift, your limbs turning to lead as his voice acted as a tether to a world where everything was finally okay. 

"you're my everything," he whispered into the crown of your head, "sweet dreams, my love."

with one final kiss on your hair, he let out a soft, contented sigh, closing his eyes, his body finally going slack against yours, his heart full with the simple joy of knowing that he had finally won the only game that ever mattered. for the first time in months, he was happy and whole now that he was finally resting beside his one and only. 

by the time you woke up, it was already afternoon the very same day. you found san in the kitchen, still wearing the oversized shirt you’d given him, stretching tight across his back, the hem barely reaching his thighs, and it's now that you noticed the dolce & gabana boxers. he looked like a devoted husband, humming to himself as he tossed pasta in a pan, spending the last hour in your kitchen to prepare a simple meal for you.

"good morning, sunshine," he murmured, turning with a smile so bright it felt like he was fighting with the sun itself. "i wanted to make sure you ate something before i had to go." 

you sat at the dining table, resting your head on your palm, as he served you a plate, and then giving you a kiss on your cheek.

"i just... i don't want you to go back there," you whispered, reaching out for the pepper, "yunjin is going to kill me when she finds out i let you sleep in my bed. she’ll probably burn the bed with both of us in it. "

he then watched you enjoy the pasta, sipping you water, giving you everything you need, and even washing the dishes afterwards. gosh, can’t he propose already? unfortunately, all good things come to an end, that resulted in him putting his clothes from yesterday and standing infront of your door.

"you know you can stay here.”

"as much as i’d love to hide out here forever and play house, i have to go back." pressing a quick peck on your lips, but his gaze turning serious as he pulled back and walked away to the elevator. "i'll call you the second i’m done. i promise, just let me handle this."

the frat house was silent when san stepped through the front door. which was strange, because he had expected the usual blaring music, and the smell of alcohol, and maybe mingi passed out on the couch. instead, and the smell of weed was replaced by a lemon floor cleaner. everything was spotless, even the shoes were lined up by the door. 

the first person he saw was jongho. the youngest was in the kitchen, his muscles straining against a tight gym shirt as he shook his protein bottle.

"hey, hyung," jongho said, his voice neutral. he didn't look guilty, because he hadn't been part of the betting pool, but he looked exhausted by the tension. "good to see you're alive."

san didn't smile. "where are the others?"

"hongjoong-hyung and seonghwa-hyung are cleaning the backyard. wooyoung-hyung... he’s in his room, hasn't come out since he did his chores couple of hours ago," the youngest replied, taking a sip of his shake. "as for the others, i don’t know. they’re laying low. "

"then tell them to get in the living room."

one by one, the boys filtered in. hongjoong and seonghwa looked disheveled, their clothes damp from the cleaning. yeosang was zoning out, mingi and yunho hovered near the back, looking like kicked puppies, jongho was the only one who looked at him in the eye without flinching. the only one missing was woyooung.

san stood in the center of the room, his arms crossed ovee his chest. he didn't yell. he didn't throw a punch. he just looked at them with a cold, piercing disappointment that was far more terrifying than anger.

"i’ve known and trusted you guys for years," san began, his voice low and dangerous. "i didn't think i had to explain to my best friends what the words stop and no meant. or that my girlfriend wasn't some trophy or prize to snatch. i thought i knew who you were, but the second i turned my back, you turned a girl i care about into some twisted game, and for a more than a hundred bucks… that’s what her dignity was worth to you?"

"san, we–" mingi started, but san’s gaze snapped to him, silencing him instantly.

"no. i’m talking. you don't get to defend it. you put money on her body and used the trust i built with her to try to get a score."

he cut him off because they failed him. not as brothers, but as men.

"you all sat in a circle and talked about her like she was some property." you planned how to corner her. if i ever, and i mean ever, hear any of you mention something sickening or breathe in her direction without my permission, you're losing a tooth… i was going to move out today. the only reason i’m not is that i want to see if any of you are actually worth keeping as friends.” that resulted in shocked faces with widened eyes, “do i make myself clear?"

the room went radio silent. unusually, apologies came in stammers: sincere from some, awkward from others. but he didn't stay to listen to the justifications, as he turned his back on them and walked upstairs.

later as it became evening with the sun setting down, san was in his bedroom, the blue light of his computer screen reflecting in his eyes as he tried to lose himself in a game. the tension in his shoulders was still there, because he didn't forgive them, not yet. egos were bruised, both theirs and his, trust was lost, but that’s just how the frat world work, or rather the men’s world.

knock, knock. knock, knock. the rhythm was unmistakable, because it was a code. san didn't look away from the screen as the door creaked open. wooyoung slipped inside, his movements cat-like, checking before doing anything. he didn't say anything at first, just walked over and sat on the edge of san's bed. a cola-flavored lollipop was tucked into the corner of his mouth.

"whatcha doin'?" wooyoung cleared his throat, the candy clicking against his teeth. 

san ignored him, his fingers clicking rapidly on the mouse.

"you still mad?" wooyoung tried again. "is it free-to-play? the game, i mean."

the good boy countied to ignore him by tapping on the keyboard.

"sannie? come on. talk to me." 

"i'm busy, wooyoung." 

"look, sannie," the blond sighed, his shoulders dropping. he reached up and pulled the lollipop from his mouth with a soft pop. "i’m sorry. i really am. i didn't mean to cross a line like that. i thought we were all just having fun, ‘ya know? i thought you’d be into the competition too. it was just a frat thing, we have done this before… well we, not you."

san paused the game. the silence in the room became absolute as he spun his gaming chair around to face his best friend. "she isn't a frat thing, woo. she’s my girlfriend. so if you ever touch her again like you did in that hallway, i don't care how long we’ve known each other. i’ll not tolerate shit like this."

"girlfriend, huh? moving fast, but okay. i get it, you are putting boundaries."

“she’s the person i love. do you get that?”

wooyoung stared at him, blinking from time to time, processing the information. "yeah, i get it. i’m sorry, man. won't happen again, i promise. she's all yours… so, we're good?"

san looked at him, searching for the lie, but wooyoung looked sincere enough. "we are… for now."

they talked for a few more minutes, a tentative peace offering made between two people who had been inseparable since high school. wooyoung stood up, popping the candy back into his mouth. "glad we’re cool. i’m gonna check on yeosang now. see ya at dinner."

"yeah. see you."

the frat walked out of the room, closing the door softly behind him. as soon as the wood clicked into the frame, the apologising mask fell. wooyoung stood in the hallway, biting down hard on the lollipop, the artificial cola flavor bursting across his tongue as the candy shattered into tiny shards. 

his eyes darkened, fixed on nothing. he could still feel the phantom presence of your body against the wall, the way you had tasted of sweet apple and surrender. he had told san what he wanted to hear, but his heart was doing something entirely different.

he wasn't sorry, not at all. he told san he was feeling awful, that he was just doing his usual thing, and he promised his best friend that he’d back off. but as he shoved his hands into his pockets and looked back at the closed bedroom door, he knew he was a liar. the bet was over, sure. san had the title and the official status. but wooyoung had the memory of how easily you melted for a bad influence, and if he had to play the long game, to be supportive… he’d wait for the cracks or any opening if lady luck was on his side.

pulling out his phone, scrolling to a photo he’d snapped of you earlier that night when you didn't know he was looking. 

"tsk, official my ass," wooyoung whispered to the empty hall, his thumb tracing the screen over your face. "we'll see how long that lasts, doll."

uneven thudding in his chest, a rhythm he hated, a weakness he hadn't planned for. it was a glitch in his system that occurred every time he closed his eyes and saw your pretty face.

san was the paradigm, the golden standard of a man who believed that love was a framework of protection and official labels. he lived by a set of rules that made him feel safe, as if the world was a map he could finally navigate on his own. 

you were the enigma, the puzzle that didn't fit into the frat’s predatory architecture. a riddle wooyoung couldn't solve, and the paradox of your surrender in that hallway was driving him to the brink of insanity.

the house was filled with stigmas. the collective disapproval of a society that saw them as nothing but high-status predators, and wooyoung had always worn that reputation like a badge of honor.

he turned and walked away, this time as a man who was no longer playing for money, but for keeps. his thumb grazed his lower lip, still tasting the ghost of your sweetness, and his eyes were full with a hunger that would make san’s heart stop. his best friend could keep the title, wooyoung was going to take the girl… after all, he had never been a good loser.

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the screech that left giselle’s throat was deafening. they wanted the when, why, and how immediately. to them, you were clearly gone for him, astronomically down bad, head over heels, despite your denials of the word 'love.' they found your delusion cute, even if they secretly wished you’d pull a simba and run away and never come back.

“look, it’s fine! we aren’t even dating,” you defended, waving a hand dismissively. “we’re keeping it casual. just hooking up, you know?”

“yeah, because just hooking up usually results in hickeys so massive that nasa could mistake them for a new galaxy.” yunjin threw her hands up, pointing at the purple marks blooming across your collarbone. you’d tried on the high-coverage foundation, but even the best formula couldn't hide the evidence of his animalistic hunger.

you went silent, your fingers drifting to the sensitive skin where san had staked his claim. the memory was barely twenty-four hours old and still vibrated behind your eyelids. it hadn't been the plan, not at all. you were supposed to be practicing your driving, a simple lesson getting used to switching gears and doing left and right turns. but one lingering look led to a touch, which led to a bruised lip, and before you knew it, the windows were fogged with steam, and the car was rocking on its suspension. your panties were probably still wedged under the back seat. some details were definitely too much for the girls to handle.

suddenly, your phone screen lit up, catching everyone’s eyes.

“oh, it’s san,” you murmured, reading the notification bar while your friends leaned in like they were filming an episode of gossip girl. for two people who wanted you nowhere near the frat house, they were incredibly nosy.

san: last night was amazing. you’re amazing. i’m so lucky to have you in my life. <3 

your best friends didn’t like the hearts in your eyes, or how your cheeks started to gain rose-red color, a soft smile curling at the corners of your mouth. oh no, not on their watch. you were not going to be another victim of the frat-boy cycle.

“cut him off.” giselle didn’t even hesitate. “girl, ghost him and never talk to him again. and no, i don’t care how good that dick is!”

“but listen to me, he isn’t like them–”

“he is, and you know it. i’m sorry, but stop being delusional.” yunjin was there to prove the point even further, leaning forward with a look of genuine concern. “he probably only offered to help you drive so he could get you alone. make you one more body count on that list. he's part of that house, babe. they breathe weed smoke and toxic masculinity.”

you wanted to scream that they were wrong. that san was the one who made sure you were comfortable, the one who stayed stone-cold sober just to make sure everyone got home safe. sure, his friends were a chaotic mess of red flags and empty bottles, but he was the calm in their storm, their guardian angel at some point.

“he’s actually a good guy,” you whispered, though it felt like talking to a brick wall.

“maybe he is,” giselle sighed, rolling her eyes as she collapsed back onto her pillow. “but good guys don’t stay good when they’re surrounded by seven devils. the association alone is a crime.”

the room went quiet for a moment, the heavy 'man-hating' energy of the sleepover clashing when you looked back down at his text, your thumb hovering over the screen. you knew the risks, and you knew your friends were just trying to protect your heart, but they didn't see the way he pouted when he was sleepy or the way he’d patiently explained the brake-to-gas transition while his hand rested gently over yours.

“okay, enough!” giselle groaned, throwing a stuffed animal at your head to break your trance. “i am officially tired of the boy talk. my brain is rotting. if i hear the name san one more time tonight, i’m sleeping in the bathtub.”

“honestly, same,” yunjin laughed, grabbing a face mask from her bag. “no more men. pass me the snacks and put on a horror movie where the frat guy dies first.”

you giggled, finally tucking your phone under your pillow. the debate wasn't over, but for now, the girls were settling in, and despite their warnings, you knew exactly who you’d be dreaming about.

“so you fucked her?”

the question cut through the haziness of the room with WOOYOUNG sprawled out on his bed, one arm draped over his forehead while he held a joint in the other. a thin, grey ribbon of smoke curled toward the ceiling, carrying that familiar scent that clung to every corner in the house. san was next to him, as he didn't even blink. he just kept his eyes tracked on the plushie he was tossing upward: up, catch. up, catch.

“i wouldn’t use that term.”

“then what term should you use when you put your penis in her vagina?”

wooyoung was always the first to pry into his best friend’s business, because keeping a secret in this environment is like trying to hold onto sand — impossible and pointless. the frats had a reputation to uphold. they were the kings of the one-night stand, the legends of the blurred morning after. and while you were drop-dead gorgeous, no doubt about that, everyone knew you weren't exactly the type to fit into their world.

“look, i like her, okay?” san finally snapped, catching the plushie mid-air and hugging it tight to his chest. he turned his head on the pillow, looking at wooyoung who was staring blankly at the ceiling fans.

“i like her,” the stoner mimicked, a lazy grin spreading across his face as he took another puff. exhaling slowly, the smoke obscuring his features for a second. “man, you’re far gone. but c’mon, give me the details. did you finally get her out of those clothes? how many times did she cum? i bet she’s a screamer, isn’t she?”

san groaned, burying his face into the plushie. “wooyoung, shut up. it wasn’t like that. it was... it was actually really good.”

“it was really good,” wooyoung chuckled, his voice dropping into a filthy and playful tone. “that’s code for we tried every position in the book. did you have her against the window? i saw your car earlier... your windows had rather impressive hand prints for just giving someone a driving lesson.”

san felt the heat creep up his neck, the memory of your hands tangled in his hair making his heart do a clumsy skip. he didn’t want to tell wooyoung that he’d spent half the time just worshipping your skin, or that the way you looked at him made him want to burn the whole frat house down just to keep you safe from the chaos that occurred every second.

“we were in the backseat,” the man admitted quietly, his grip tightening on the toy.

“the classic,” wooyoung hummed, tapping ash into a tray on the nightstand. his eyes were red-rimmed and heavy, but his smirk was so smug. “just be careful, lover boy. the girls she hangs out with will have your head on a pike if you break her heart. and as for the guys here... they’re gonna give you hell for going soft.”

“i don’t care,” san said, and for the first time that night, he sounded completely sure of his decision. “let them talk. she’s worth the headache.”

“so, what position did you really have her in? did you do that thing where you–”

“wooyoung, seriously, stop,” san groaned, but his defensive stance was interrupted by the door swinging open so hard it hit the wall. YUNHO strolled in, looking way too energetic for someone who survived on nicotine and energy drinks. MINGI was dragging along behind him, looking like he’d just woken up from a three-hour nap after having his dick sucked.

“party tomorrow night,” yunho announced, clapping his hands together. “we need to finalize the invite list. we were thinking of some freshmen, so any suggestions?”

wooyoung took a slow drag of his joint and pointed a lazy finger at san. “how about san’s girlfriend? she’s pretty and smart, on top of her major, and gets a scholarship.”

“she is not my girlfriend,” san snapped, sitting up so fast the plushie tumbled to the floor.

“girlfriend?!” mingi yelled, his voice booming through the thin walls of the house.

within seconds, the hallway sounded like a stampede. the floorboards groaned under the weight of four other men racing toward the noise. SEONGHWA was the first to lean against the doorframe, followed by a skeptical-looking HONGJOONG, a judging JONGHO, and YEOSANG, who looked like he’d just been handed the best tea of the semester.

“what girlfriend?” hongjoong asked, crossing his arms. “san, really? the guy who spends his friday nights cleaning the kitchen while we’re out?”

it was a disaster. in this house, the word 'girlfriend' was a myth, a legend told to frighten the freshmen. they did hookups, situationships, friends with benefits, but they didn't do feelings. the mere mention of a committed title was enough to start a departmental investigation.

“none of your business,” san muttered, trying to look anywhere but at their smirking faces. “she’s no one important, just a girl in our university.”

“no one important doesn't get you out of the house to give her driving lessons,” wooyoung chirped from the bed, ruining san's life with a single sentence.

“bring her tomorrow,” jongho suggested, “if she’s just a girl, it shouldn’t matter if she attends the party.”

“no,” san said firmly. “she’s not coming here.”

he knew exactly what would happen. they’d tease and try to corrupt you, or worse, they’d make you realize that being associated with a frat boy, even a 'good' one, was a social death sentence. he wanted to keep you tucked away, a private piece of peace in his chaotic life. something for his eyes and hands only.

“he’s protecting her,” seonghwa noted, a smirk spreading across his face. “how romantic.”

“i’ll bet fifty bucks she’s here by midnight,” mingi whispered, loud enough for everyone to hear.

“oh, so we are doing it like this, huh?” yunho grinned. “i bet a hundred that san caves and brings her just because he can't stand the thought of her being home alone while he’s here.”

san watched them start to shake hands and pull out their phones to type something in their note apps. he wanted to keep you as his little secret, but the vultures had picked up the scent, and they were hungry for a show. wooyoung laughed so hard he started coughing, leaning back, his head hitting the pillow as he let out a slow, haunting cloud of smoke. he looked through half-lidded eyes, his grin turning into something far more predatory because the innocent teasing was officially over.

“if she’s not your girlfriend, and she’s no one important...” his best friend’s voice dropped into a smooth purr that made the hair on the back of san’s neck stand up. “then you wouldn’t mind if i asked her out, right? i mean, sharing is caring after all.”

san’s body went rigid, eyes widened in pure shock. “don’t even think about it, woo.”

“why not?” mingi piped up, as he leaned against the dresser. “you know the rules. nothing is official until you make it. and if you’re too scared to claim her, it’s a fair game. she’s a pretty little thing. i wouldn’t mind seeing if she’s as good as you say she is.”

“i’ll bet i can get her number before the party even starts,” yunho added, his competitive streak flaring up. he wasn’t even high or tipsy, just fueled by the pure adrenaline of the hunt. “hell, i’ll bet i can get her in my bed by next weekend.”

to them, you were a prize, a challenge to be won. the good boy of the group had finally found something worth hiding, and that only made the rest of them want to tear the secret apart and see what the hype was about.

“stop it. all of you,” san hissed, his protective instincts were screaming. he knew these men; he knew they were charming, reckless, and could talk almost any girl into a bad decision with a single smile and a hit of whatever they were smoking.

“oh, he’s getting mad,” wooyoung cackled, pointing a shaking finger at san. “look at him! he’s actually catching feelings. but sannie, you know how this works. if she comes to the party tomorrow, she’s in our territory.”

seonghwa, who had been quiet until now, let out a chuckle. “the bet is on, then. fifty bucks to the first person who gets a kiss. a hundred for a make out, three hundred if you get her in bed, and… san, if you want to keep her, you better step up your game.”

looking around the room at his seven best friends, the people he called brothers, and for the first time, they looked like the monsters your best friends warned you about. they were laughing, throwing out names of positions and places they’d take you, treating your name like a coin in a poker game.

everything here is a gamble, and everyone has decided that they are playing to win and keep the streak, so will san do a call or fold?

the following morning, san slipped out of the house early, the scent of beer and lingering smoke clinging to the walls behind him. he needed air, time to think and process everything, as he wandered into the nearby park. the boys were ruthless once the bet was placed, like sharks in a feeding frenzy, and he knew he couldn't protect you if you set foot inside that place tonight.

pulling out his phone, his fingers trembling slightly as he dialed your number.

"hi, princess," he said the moment you picked up, forcing his voice to drop into that honey-sweet register he reserved only for you. "how are you? did you have fun with giselle and yunjin?"

“i’m good… still sleepy.” he could hear the sleepiness in your voice, that soft and raspy tone that usually made him melt. you told him about the movies, the gossip, and how you baked chocolate-chip cookies, and how the girls had just left thirty minutes ago to study, since fashion and music majors never truly rested. 

"im glad you had fun," he said, offering a pained smile to the empty park. he took a shaky breath, the silence stretching a second too long.

"is everything okay?" you asked, noticing the weight in his exhale.

“so, listen to me,” san started, pacing back and forth in front of a wooden bench, his free hand shoved deep into his pocket. “there’s a party at the house tonight. it’s going to be a mess, okay? the guys are going to be drunk and high, the music is going to be way too loud, and honestly... it’s just not a good time for you to come over. i’ll come over to yours later if you want, we can go get food, just... stay home tonight, please?”

he held his breath, praying your protective friends had rubbed off on you enough to make you say no.

“actually sannie,” you said, your voice sounding confused but intrigued, “wooyoung texted me a few hours ago. he invited me to tonight's party, saying you were being shy about asking me and that i should definitely show up around eleven.”

san stopped dead in his tracks. the world seemed to freeze as his blood ran cold. oh god. fucking hell, wooyoung did the fuck not. that bastard actually did it. he remembered his best friend staring at his phone at 3 am, ignoring the beer pong game with mingi and yeosang, a wicked and rather too pleased grin on his face. 

“he texted you?” san’s voice was full of betrayal. “what exactly did he say? and did you... did you answer him?”

“i told him i’d think about it,” you replied, completely oblivious to the fact that you were currently the stakes in a high-stakes poker game. “he seemed really nice, though. he told me he wanted to finally meet the girl who’s been keeping you so distracted.”

"please, (name)... don't go.”

"why? it's not like you are my boyfriend or anything."

the words hit him like a physical blow to the stomach. it was the truth, since he hadn't claimed you. he hadn't given you a reason to choose his word over an invitation from his best friend. the trap was set for its prey to fall into. wooyoung wasn't just being a wingman; he was moving the chess pieces to win the bet. if you showed up tonight, you’d be walking straight into a den of seven men who had turned your existence into a competition.

"look, i just have a bad feeling. i don’t want you near people who have vodka and jagermeister mixed into their dna. believe me, i’m doing this for your own good."

"and i have a good feeling and would like to go. what's the worst that can happen?"

the worst? san’s mind raced through the horrors. the predatory looks, the nasty comments masked as flirt. wooyoung trying to charm his way between your legs, mingi or yunho trying to see how much you could drink. the risk of someone slipping something into your cup, the cameras, and the total lack of respect for boundaries once the bass started thumping.

he opened his mouth to tell you that his friends had put a price on your head. he wanted to tell you about the fifty bucks for a kiss and the hundred more for a night in their bed.

but the words died in his throat. if he told you, he’d lose you because you’d see what kind of people he associated with. if he told you, he’d betray the only "brothers" he had. he was trapped between the angel on his shoulder and the devils in his house.

"just trust me," san pleaded, his voice cracking, "don't come."

“san, you’re acting weird. it’s just a party,” you laughed softly, and the sound of your innocence made his stomach flip. “it’s not like i’m going to go and fall in love with your friends. i just want to see you… so, i'll be there around eleven," you said softly before hanging up.

san stared at his phone, the screen reflecting his panicked face. what was he supposed to do now? maybe make sure you stick with him the whole time, or he can even pick you up from your place and try to convince you otherwise, but you sounded determined to attend the party.

tossing your phone onto your unmade bed, you let out a heavy sigh. san was sweet, he really was, but sometimes his protectiveness felt less like care and more like a cage. why was he so against this? half the campus was going to be there, not just his inner circle of friends. you’d been seeing each other for months: going on dates, sharing meals, and, yes, having the kind of sex that made your toes curl, but he still hadn't put a label on it. he hadn't asked you to be his girlfriend, and if he wasn't going to claim that title, he didn't really get to veto your saturday night plans.

you weren't talking to other men; your loyalty was firmly with him, but you were young and bored. the thought of sitting in your room while the rest of the university was dancing and drinking sounded miserable. a party was exactly what you needed to feel like you again, not just as san’s secret.

and you definitely weren't telling giselle and yunjin. if san’s reactions were this, theirs would be enough to destroy planet earth. they’d probably stage an intervention or lock you in your room to "save you from your own bad taste," but they didn't understand the pull san had on you, and they certainly didn't know how charming wooyoung could be over a simple text.

is it so wrong to just want to have fun? you thought, biting your lip, turning your attention to your closet, pulling hangers aside, because the worst that could happen in your mind was a hangover and maybe your hair smelling like cigarettes, but hardly the apocalypse san was painting. if he were so worried about you being around strangers, well, you’d just have to stay close to him, or wooyoung, or any of the other seven guys who seemed perfectly capable of being human for one night.

your biggest problem wasn't a bad feeling or some mysterious frat house drama. your biggest problem was deciding between the tiny black slip dress that showed off the faint, fading marks on your neck or some of your skirts and tops. but you reached for the dress. if san wanted to keep you a secret, he was going to have a very hard time doing it tonight. you were going to show up, have fun, and prove to him that you could handle the frats.

arriving just like cinderella, you texted your prince charming that you were outside, and less than thirty seconds later, the heavy door swung open. san stood there, looking slightly frazzled, his dark hair pushed back and a simple black t-shirt hugging his frame, alongside some cargo pants. but then he looked at you… you looked incredible. his gaze traveled from your heels up to that tiny black dress, lingering on the soft glow of your skin. he looked like a man who had just seen a ghost, or an angel, and that alone made him want to turn you right back around and walk you home.

"hi, san." you smiled as he stepped out onto the porch, closing the door slightly to muffle the bass-heavy music. 

"you... you actually came," his hand instinctively reaching out to hover near your waist. "you look amazing. i mean, wow. but i thought... i thought we agreed–"

"we didn't agree on anything, sannie," you giggled, stepping closer to adjust his collar just to see him flush. "and thanks, you look good, too… but you look like you've seen a ghost. are you okay?"

"i'm just... nervous. so, stay close to me, okay?” he let out a ragged sigh, his thumb finally brushing the small of your back as he guided you inside. “it’s already getting rowdy in there."

it was 23:38 when you came, the party was in full swing, the pre-game long forgotten in favor of body-to-body dancing and the scent of expensive cologne and cheap tequila. you were an enigma walking through a sea of unfamiliar faces, a girl who didn't quite fit the frat-girl stereotype but was somehow the most captivating person in the room. as you moved through the crowd with san, conversations seemed to stall. heads turned, and the eyes of the other seven men in the house locked onto you like hunters ready to shoot the naive and innocent deer.

san was doing his best to keep his body blocked against yours, acting as a human shield, eyes darting around the room like a hawk. he was on high alert, and for good reason, until a hand landed firmly on his shoulder.

"there she is."

wooyoung appeared out of the haze like a fever dream. he was leaning against the wall with a cherry lollipop tucked into the corner of his smirk. his blonde hair was perfectly styled and straightened with a little black highlights, and he wore a pale pink sweater unzipped just low enough to show the lines of his collarbones and a glimpse of his chest, accompanied by black denim with a shiny belt. he looked like candy: sweet and completely addictive.

"(name), right? nice to finally meet you, pretty girl," stepping into your personal space, the scent of citrus perfume and a faint trail of weed swirling around him. he didn't wait for an answer before his eyes traveled down your body and back up, his expression one of unadulterated approval. "enjoying yourself, i hope?"

san’s grip on your waist tightened. "woo, not now."

"oh, don't be such a buzzkill, sannie." wooyoung was being cocky, and before san could react, the blond slipped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you away from your shielder. his touch was warm, his thumb brushing against your arm in a way that felt far too familiar for a stranger. "a girl this gorgeous shouldn't be tucked away in a corner all night. don't mind if i show her around, do you? she hasn't even seen the balcony view yet."

you looked at san, who looked like he was about to combust, and then back at wooyoung’s sparkling eyes. the thrill of the attention was too good to pass up. "sure," you giggled, leaning slightly into his side. "show me the way."

you started to walk away before san could even find his voice. just as you reached the edge of the hallway, wooyoung paused. he threw his head back, looking over his shoulder at san, taking the lollipop out of his mouth with a slow pop, licked his lips, and put it back in as he winked.

san stood frozen in the middle of the crowded room, completely disturbed. he watched his best friend’s hand slide a little lower on your back as you disappeared into the crowd. for the first time, he realized that "sharing is caring" wasn't just a joke to his friends; it was a warning that if you don’t care about something of yours, someone else would.

wooyoung led you through the house like a king walking through his own palace. every step on the staircase was occupied by someone smoking or making out, but the crowd seemed to part for him. he kept a hand on the small of your back, his touch light but possessive, guiding you through the sweaty mass of the living room.

"so, what do you think?" he asked, leaning in close so his lips brushed the shell of your ear, "do we live up to the rumors?"

you glanced at a guy passed out on a beanbag and then at the overflowing trash cans near the kitchen. "well, the house smells awful, and you definitely bought the cheapest alcohol available, so yeah, i’d say the rumors are true."

that made him chuckle, his eyes crinkling as he looked at you. "cheeky, aren't ya? i like that. usually, girls are too busy trying to impress me to notice the mess."

he steered you away from the noise, up to the second floor, sliding open the glass doors that led to the balcony he mentioned earlier. the air out here was crisp and cool, a contrast to the suffocating party inside. above you, the sky was a clear indigo, the moon hanging in a partial eclipse, and the view was really spectacular.

wooyoung leaned against the railing with his back, the pink of his sweater glowing under the moonlight. he reached into his pocket and put his lollipop inside a wrapper, only to pull out a small pouch, as his nimble fingers began to roll a joint. you leaned your elbows on the railing, side-eyeing the way he focused on the task, his tongue poking out just slightly as he licked the paper.

"you ever tried?" he asked, not looking up, though he could clearly feel your gaze.

"no," you admitted, shifting your weight. "not much into that kind of stuff."

"ah, i see." finally looking at you, as he lit his lighter, the flame illuminated the sharp features of his face for a second before he took a slow drag. he exhaled a thin plume of smoke toward the moon. "you live up to the good girl archetype, then."

you narrowed your eyes at him, the cool breeze fluttering the hem of your dress. "was that supposed to be a compliment?"

wooyoung stepped closer, the scent of citrus and sweet smoke swirling around you. he leaned down until he was level with your face, his gaze dropping to your lips before coming back to your eyes.

"of course, pretty," he whispered, charming his way out. "good girls are fun, but i’ve always wondered what it takes to make them break."

he held the joint out toward you, a silent invitation, his thumb grazing your knuckles as he waited. inside, you didn't know that san’s eyes were scanning the crowd frantically, looking for the girl he was so terrified of losing to the very man currently making your heart race.

you stared at the glowing tip of the joint, the rebellion bubbling up in your chest finally winning over anyone’s warnings. it’s just a party, you told yourself. you took it from his fingers, trying to look as cool as he did, but the thick smoke hit the back of your throat like a freight train. immediately, you were bent over, a hand clamped over your mouth as you let out a series of light and pathetic coughs. 

wooyoung threw his head back, a melodic laugh spilling out of him. “aw, there, there. you’ve got those big and teary puppy eyes now,” he cooed, taking the joint back before you dropped it. “you’re worse than when san tried to take a puff for the first and last time.”

“shut up,” you wheezed, wiping a stray tear from the corner of your eye. “i haven’t smoked before, and this is… it’s strong.”

“only the best for this house.”

his free hand reaching out to steady you, his palms resting at your waist. the heat from his hand seeped through the thin fabric of your dress. the sexual tension was enough to choke on, heavier than the smoke between you. wooyoung leaned in, his face inches from yours, his eyes dropping to your mouth with a look that said he was about to win the bet right then and there, playing you like a fine instrument, melting your defenses with nothing but a look. 

“you have a little bit of a smudge right here,” his voice so smooth as his thumb brushed the corner of your lip. he was closing the distance, his breath warm against your skin, and you were almost ready to let him, until the glass door slammed open with a violent thud.

“hey, woo! we need the keys to the suv, we gotta go get more alcho–” 

yunho froze mid-sentence, his tall frame nearly blocking the entire doorway. mingi stumbled in right behind him, shirtless and draped in enough silver chains to sink a boat. he let out a low whistle, sliding his black sunglasses down the bridge of his nose to get a better look at you. 

“woah, did we accidentally invite a k-drama lead?”

wooyoung didn't move his hand from your waist, but his jaw tightened with a flash of pure annoyance. he let out a frustrated exhale, rolling his eyes as he let go of you. 

“that’s (name). san’s plus-one for the night.”

“san has a plus-one?” yunho grinned, stepping onto the balcony and effectively killing the intimate vibe wooyoung had spent twenty minutes building. he looked so handsome in his ripped jeans and unbuttoned white shirt, his black jacket swaying as he moved. “well, san is currently busy trying to find a mop because someone puked in the foyer. we’ll take over from here.”

mingi didn't even wait for a response. he stepped in close, the jewelry around his neck clinking. “you don’t wanna hang out with this boring stoner all night, do you? come on, me and yunho are going on a booze run. we need a woman’s touch to make sure we don't buy more battery acid.”

“yeah, come on. we’ve got a car waiting and the night is young. don't let woo bore you to death with his good girl talk.” yunho had gently taken your hand, his large palm engulfing yours, before wooyoung could protest, he gave them the car key. mingi stood on your other side like a literal wall of muscle. they began ushering you back toward the house, and you looked back at the blonde, giving him a small shrug as the two tall men practically swept you off the balcony. 

the stoner stood alone, fuming inside like a volcano. putting the joint back in its place in his pocket, as he switched it with the lollipop, shoved it into his mouth, and bit down with an aggressive crack. he watched them lead you away, his eyes narrowed as he planned his next move. the game was just getting started, and the twin towers had just upped the ante.

walking between them felt like being caught between two skyscrapers. you had to tilt your head back just to meet their eyes, handsome jawlines that seemed to defy gravity. yunho kept the mood light, cracking jokes about the absolute state of the kitchen, while mingi was biting his lower lip every time his eyes raked over your curves.

"so, didn't know you were san's plus one. he never brings anyone here," mingi said, his deep voice rumbling in his chest as you followed them down the quiet upstairs hallway. you hadn't realized how massive this house was; every staircase and door seemed to lead to a place twice as big as the previous.

"mmm, i’m surprised he even invited someone at all," yunho hummed. he reached for a door handle and swung it open, revealing a room that caught you off guard. it was huge, centered by a king-sized bed and a massive gaming setup glowing with blue and purple led lights. posters of spiderman and vintage guns lined the walls, a strangely human touch in a house you thought only cared about booze and bodies.

"actually, wooyoung invited me," you admitted softly as both of them stopped dead in their tracks, turning their heads slowly to look at you with mirrored expressions of amusement and confusion.

"oh,” yunho asked, raising an eyebrow, because they expected you to be invited by san, not by someone else, but of course it was the cocky bastard. “did he really?"

before you could process the change in vibe, they moved. it was coordinated and effortless, like they’d done this a thousand times before. yunho stepped behind you, closing the bedroom door with a soft click, while mingi stepped into your personal space, forcing you to back up until your back hit yunho’s chest. bigger hands came up to rest on the tops of your shoulders, his thumbs tracing the line of your collarbone. mingi was right in front of you, looming over you with that toned chest, his heavy silver chains clinking as he leaned down.

"wooyoung has always been greedy," mingi whispered, his black sunglasses now on top of his head, so that you could see the hunger in his eyes. "but i think he's biting off more than he can chew."

can't blame the stoner, though. look at you, you’re smoking hot, and they can’t decide if they want to take you out for those drinks or just stay right here and see how loud you can get. would you scream, or are you more of the quiet ones? have you ever squirted before? do you want to know what the difference is between an average guy and two big guys when it came to size in pretty much every aspect of the human anatomy?

"we haven't even had a drink yet," yunho murmured against the shell of your ear, his breath hot, and you could smell the mint bubblegum he probably had, "we're perfectly sober and perfectly capable of taking care of you."

you felt a dizzying rush of adrenaline. your heart was hammering against your ribs like a trapped bird. the attention was intoxicating: to be wanted by two men who looked like they’d been carved out of marble was every girl's secret fever dream.

"you’re trembling," mingi reached out, his large hand cupping your jaw, his thumb tracing the line of your lower lip. "is it because you’re nervous, or because you like having both of us this close?"

they were sweet-talking you, their compliments falling like honey by telling you how lethal you looked in that dress, how your scent was driving them insane... a part of you, the part that had been feeling neglected by san's refusal to put a label on things, absolutely thrived under the tension.

if there's no ring on the finger, i’m a free agent, you thought, but then, the good girl in you flinched. you thought of san's frantic plea for you to stay home and how sweet he was to you. your morals were a heavy weight, pulling at your conscience even as your body leaned into the warmth of the two men surrounding you.

"you’re thinking too much," yunho whispered, his hands sliding down your arms to catch your wrists. "we’re just talking, princess. unless... you want more?"

"i... i should probably find san," you stammered, the name a little too heavy on your tongue.

"san?" yunho chuckled, the vibration of his chest hitting your shoulder blades. "san is a good guy. a really good guy. but he’s not here right now, is he? and like you said... he didn't even invite you."

mingi reached out, his finger hooking under the thin strap of your dress, tugging it just a millimeter lower. "san doesn't have to know everything. and we’re very good at keeping secrets. and in this house, we don't like to see someone as beautiful as you going to waste.”

you looked from mingi’s gaze to the closed door behind yunho. the temptation was a chance to be the center of the universe for the two most popular guys on campus. but the thought of the guilt waiting for you in the morning, and the look on san’s face if he ever found out, made your heart stutter in a way that wasn't just excitement. but as yunho’s hand found your waist and mingi’s gaze dropped to the lace of your dress, the guilt felt miles away. 

"just one ride," the taller whispered into your ear, his hands squeezing you. "we'll be real careful with you, i promise." 

your head was spinning. maybe that one puff of weed had actually done something, or maybe it was just by being sandwiched between two giants. you’d never even considered a threesome before; the thought usually passed quickly. but here, with mingi’s thumb dragging across your bottom lip and yunho’s breath hitching against your neck, you were ready to experiment.

you were nervous, sure, but it was a delicious kind of fear. they were big, capable, and the way they looked at you made you feel like something precious they were about to carefully unwrap… or destroy.

mingi tilted his head as he began to close the final few centimeters between your mouths. your eyes fluttered shut, your heart performing a frantic drumroll against your ribs — knock, knock.

"hyung, you here?"

the door creaked open before anyone could react, the wood hitting yunho’s back with a light thud. the sudden movement sent a chain reaction: yunho bumped into you, and you were shoved forward right into mingi’s bare chest.

yunho whipped his head around, his face a mask of pure irritation, only to see jongho standing there. the youngest looked completely unfazed, his expression calm as he blinked at his hyungs. from his angle, you were completely hidden behind yunho’s broad frame; all he could see was mingi looking disheveled.

"am i interrupting something?" jongho asked, his voice steady and almost dry.

"jjong, we’re a little busy right now," yunho grunted, trying to block the doorway again.

but jongho didn't move. he stepped into the room, and everyone in the house knew who was the strongest — he could probably snap a baseball bat with his bare hands, and none of the older guys wanted to find out what happened if they actually crossed him. more than that, he was a spoiled and manipulative genius who always got his way.

"san-hyung is downstairs looking like he’s about to have a heart attack," the youngest said, his eyes finally landing on you as you peeked out from behind yunho. a knowing smirk playing on his lips. "and i think i’d like to talk to our guest myself in private."

"hey, wait a minute–" mingi started, but jongho just raised an eyebrow.

"mingi-hyung, didn't you say you were going on a drink run? the girls downstairs are complaining about the warm beer. so go." it wasn't a suggestion, more like an order wrapped in a flat tone.

the wolf and the dog exchanged a look of pure defeat. they knew when they’d been outplayed. with a frustrated sigh, mingi put his sunglasses back, and yunho stepped aside, both of them lingering for a second to catch one last glimpse of you before trudging out like two kids who’d just had their favorite toy confiscated.

jongho waited until the door clicked shut before he turned to you. he didn't loom like the others; he just stood there with an air of absolute authority that was arguably more intimidating. and he was kind of adorable, wearing dark indigo denim jacket that matched his denim jeans, layered over a white tee, paired with a backwards navy baseball cap.

"you should be more careful," he murmured, stepping closer and reaching out to straighten a stray strand of your hair. "those two don't know how to play fair. luckily for you, i'm much better at keeping secrets."

he offered you his arm, a grin spreading across his face as he prepared to lead you away, leaving his hyungs to pick up whatever leftovers were left of the party, meaning the plenty of girls waiting for their chance, while he took the prize for himself.

jongho didn’t actually have any intention of making a move on you. while the others were losing their minds over the bet, he was mostly just participating to watch the absolute absurdy of it all. despite being the youngest, he was the only one who seemed to have a fully functioning brain tonight. sure, he had his girls, mostly friends-with-benefits situations that were low-stress and high-reward, but he wasn't about to act like a starving bear.

he noticed how glazed your eyes were, the weight of the night finally catching up to you. "you okay?"

"yeah, i think so... sorry, what is your name?" you asked, leaning slightly against the wall for support.

"jongho," he replied shortly, though not unkindly.

he led you up to the third floor, where the bass from the party felt more like a distant hum than a physical assault. it was a quiet hallway, mostly unused, leading to a spare room that felt like a sanctuary. he pushed the door open to reveal a space stacked with extra furniture and a mini-fridge that was, surprisingly, fully stocked. he grabbed a cold soda and handed it to you.

"this is where i hide when the girls my hyungs bring home start getting too loud, since it gets annoying at some point," he gestured toward the couch that was buried under a mountain of sprawled blankets. "sit, make yourself comfortable."

you sighed in relief and plopped down onto the pile of blankets, only to jump nearly three feet into the air when a muffled “ow!” came from underneath you.

you scrambled back, teleporting behind jongho and gripping the back of his shirt. "do you murder people in this house? don't tell me you guys are ghostface wannabes and there’s a body under there…”

jongho sighed, looking more tired than scared. he reached down and pulled back a thick duvet, revealing a very disheveled, very annoyed-looking guy with blonde hair.

it was yeosang. he’d been hiding out here for hours because wooyoung had been trying to pressure him into doing body shots off some random girl's stomach in the kitchen. the sleeping beauty was a sweetheart, really, a bit of a clueless himbo at times who just wanted to be left alone. he was technically part of the bet, but only because he didn't want to listen to the others nag him. actually doing something behind san's back sounded like way too much effort and drama for his taste.

"hyung? what are you doing here?" jongho asked.

yeosang rubbed his eyes, blinking up at you with a look that was more confused puppy than sex maniac. he looked like an adorable maltese for some reason. "hiding from wooyoung."

he sat up, his blonde hair sticking out in every direction, before putting his white cap on, matching the backward style of jongho. he looked at you, then at the soda in your hand, then back at jongho. "is the party over? is san cleaning everything alone again?"

"no," the youngest replied, "but i think she would like some peace and quiet after spending time with yunho and mingi."

yeosang looked at you with sympathy, something you didn’t expect from someone of their status. "sounds exhausting. you can hide here, too, if you want. i have snacks in the drawer and i promise i won't do anything funny… too tired for that stuff."

the more you talked to yeosang and jongho, the more the "scary frat" facade crumbled. they were actually pretty chill, and for a second, you felt like you were back at a slumber party rather than whatever this was. you decided to take yeosang up on his offer to hide, even helping them pick out a movie on the tv. seriously, even the storage room had a flat-screen. you wondered just how much money these guys’ parents were funneling into this house.

you ended up sandwiched in the middle of the couch. yeosang was to your right, jongho to your left, both manspreading a little, their knees occasionally brushing yours. you and yeosang were shamelessly sharing a bag of popcorn while jongho sat with his arms crossed, pretending he wasn't invested in the plot.

"i didn't take you for the type of guys to watch disney movies," you commented, staring at the screen where lightning mcqueen was begrudgingly repaving the road in radiator springs.

"it's a classic, and i like the soundtrack," yeosang sounded very serious, tossing a piece of popcorn into his mouth.

watching the movie made you feel a weird pang of nostalgia. you missed being a kid, but mostly, you just wished you were doing this with san. wait... san? you checked your phone and realized it had been over an hour and a half since wooyoung swept you away, and the whole strange fiasco started from having guys hitting on you every second.

"hey, i'll be right back," you said, shifting to get up. "where's the bathroom on this floor? i don't want to go back downstairs into that war zone."

"end of the hall to the left," jongho said, not taking his eyes off the screen. "don't get lost. the hallways up here are like a maze."

"thanks," you giggled, sliding out from between them.

you slipped into the hallway, as you found the door easily enough, but just as you reached for the handle, it swung open, and you froze.

standing there with long, raven hair that looked like silk, eyes that were sharp yet somehow incredibly soft. he was dressed in a way that felt both elegant and effortlessly swaggy, like he’d just stepped off a runway. the man stopped when he saw you. a beautiful smile spreading across his face as he took in your dolled-up appearance. he’d been waiting for his turn all night, watching his friends fail one by one from the sidelines. but now, in this empty hallway with no wooyoung to interrupt and no twin towers to hover... he had you all to himself.

"well," his voice smooth as he stepped out, effectively blocking your path to the door. "i was wondering when the star of the show would make her way up to me."

“excuse me?” you were utterly confused, because… the star of the show? you just wanted to use the bathroom before your bladder decided to quit on you. “nevermind, can you please move so i could use the bathroom? it's kind of an emergency.”

seonghwa chuckled, a sound that felt way too sophisticated for a house that currently smelled like spilled tequila. he stepped aside with a graceful sweep of his arm, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “of course. i wouldn’t want to be responsible for a tragedy.”

when you finished and stepped back out, you jumped a little to find him still standing there, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. he looked like a vampire prince guarding his lover’s coffin.

“kind of creepy to wait, don’t you think?” you mumbled, though you weren't actually scared, as he had an aura that somehow felt strangely safe.

“maybe,” he admitted, pushing off the wall. “but guests aren't usually permitted on the third floor. what were you doing up here anyway?”

“i was with jongho,” you said quickly. you didn’t dare mention yeosang; if this guy was the type to report back to hq, you didn't want to get the blonde himbo in trouble for slacking off on his hosting duties.

“you were with jongho?” seonghwa repeated, his eyebrows shooting up.

“yeah?”

“okay,” he said, shrugging his shoulders as if that explained everything. “well, now you’re going to be with me.”

before you could think, seonghwa’s hand found yours. his grip was firm but surprisingly gentle, his fingers laced through your own. he led you back toward the stairs, and as you descended, the wild life hit you again. the house was in full tilt now — people were wasted, dancing on furniture, and the air needed spiritual cleansing.

but the man didn't loosen his grip for a second, using his free hand to navigate through the crowd, keeping his body between you and the more rowdy guests. he leaned in close, his raven hair brushing your temple. “we’re heading toward the dj booth, okay? it’s easier to breathe there.”

he scanned the room as you moved. to the left, it was wooyoung, still looking irritated as he shared a joint with yeonjun and soobin. no, not going back to the competition. then he looked to the right and saw san, who was a little miserable, currently arguing with some guy who was trying to juggle empty glass bottles. thank you, next, he whispered to himself. the backyard was an option, the pool area was usually the final boss of any frat party, but at least the air wouldn't be recycled carbon dioxide.

the second the sliding glass doors opened, the temperature dropped. the backyard was illuminated by strings of fairy lights and the glow of the pool, where a few couples were already skinny dipping, their laughter echoing off the water. it was colder now, and you immediately began to tremble as the wind hit your bare shoulders.

seonghwa noticed instantly. without a word or a second of hesitation, he slipped his jacket off, draping it over you, the warmth of his body still clinging to the lining. you looked up at him, feeling small in his oversized coat. it was honestly unfair. how could a man be this beautiful? he was a frat boy, for god's sake. he was supposed to be a red flag, but right now, he felt like the only person in the house who actually knew how to take care of you.

“better?” he asked, giving you a small and reassuring smile.

“yes, thank you…” you dragged out the last word, trailing off as you looked up at him. so many attractive strangers had crossed your path tonight that you felt like the lead in a k-drama with a plot that was getting way too complicated to follow.

“seonghwa,” he said, nodding his head slowly as if he could read the confusion in your eyes. “my name is seonghwa.”

even his name was pretty. you felt a little shy suddenly, the weight of his jacket on your shoulders acting as a warm reminder of his presence. “i’m (name),” you whispered, feeling like you had to introduce yourself properly, completely unaware that your name had been the only topic of conversation in that house since three in the morning. 

you guys spent a few minutes just chit-chatting; he was flirting, you could tell, but he did it in such a... lovely way. it wasn't cocky like wooyoung or overwhelming like the twin towers. it was subtle, woven into his questions about whether you were actually having a good time, if the noise was too much, or if anyone had bothered you. he sounded like a true host, genuinely concerned with whether his beloved guest was satisfied, but his eyes told a different story. they lingered on your lips just a second too long every time you spoke.

he led you over to a deckchair that sat a bit like an outsider, tucked away in a shadowed corner far from the splashing of the pool. you sat down, the silence of the night wrapping around you, and for a second, you didn't know what to say, but he did.

“do you mind if i do this?” he asked softly, breaking the silence.

“do what?” you whispered back.

he didn't answer with words. instead, he reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering there before gently caressing your cheek. his touch was cool and smooth, making your breath hitch. seonghwa leaned in slowly, giving you every chance to pull away, but you were paralyzed when he finally captured your lips with his. you let out a soft gasp, surprised by the boldness of it, but within seconds, you were melting. it wasn't the hungry kiss you might have expected from a frat boy; it was sweet and incredibly soft. 

you found yourself moving in sync with him, your hands reaching up to grip the lapels of his jacket that still draped over your shoulders. seonghwa groaned softly into your mouth, his hands sliding to your waist to lift you as you ended up straddling his lap on the deckchair, the fabric of your dress riding up as you pressed closer to his warmth. his tongue swiped against yours, slow and possessive, as the make-out session felt more intense under the dim lights.

you were lost in him, your hands tangling in his raven hair, pulling him closer as you felt the solid muscle of his thighs beneath you. you didn't know about the bet, unaware that at this very moment, every guy in that house was technically down a hundred and fifty bucks. seonghwa had played the long game, waiting for the perfect moment to strike while the others played checkers. 

as his hands traveled down your back, pulling you flush against him, you forgot all about the crowded house, the good girl persona, and the realization hit you like a bucket of ice water. the haze of the party, the weed, and the thrill of the chase evaporated the second you felt seonghwa’s hand slide up your thigh. you weren't supposed to be here, more so, you weren't supposed to be making out with a raven-haired stranger while san, the boy who actually cared about you, was inside worrying himself to death.

you pulled away abruptly, your chest heaving. seonghwa’s lips were swollen and red, a faint sheen of spit making them look even more inviting in the moonlight. he looked confused, his dark eyes searching yours for the reason behind the sudden pull.

"what’s wrong, darling?"

"i–... uh, i–" 

you couldn't even find the words. your brain was a mess of strawberry soda and guilt. the faint taste of expensive wine on his tongue lingered in your mouth, and for some reason, the alcohol made you feel like you were parched.

"you are what?"

"i'm thirsty," you managed to choke out, making seonghwa chuckle. that made you feel like a child caught in a lie. he didn't push you, instead, he stood up from the deckchair. you were still perched in his lap, so you wrapped your legs around his waist for a split second as he rose, feeling the solid strength of his body before he gently set you down on your feet.

"come on, then," he said, taking your hand again. "let’s get you something to drink."

leading you back into the house, navigating you through the mess the kitchen had become, and pulled you toward the massive fridge. he knew you weren't a heavy drinker; he’d tasted the sweet, non-alcoholic soda on your lips during the make-out session. he bent down, his back turned to you as he scanned the bottom shelf.

"would fanta or cola do? or i think there’s some more of that strawberry stuff in the back..." he whispered to himself, reaching for a bottle. "wait, do you want ice with that or–"

he turned around, a can in each hand, and a question on his lips. the kitchen was empty. his expensive jacket was draped neatly over the marble counter, but you were gone. seonghwa’s eyes scanned the room, his jaw tightening as he realized he’d just been played. the gentleman of the house had lost his prize in the three seconds it took to pick a soda.

just who decided to be a thief this time?

the music in the living room suddenly shifted, the bass dropping into a remix that made the floorboards vibrate with a new kind of energy. and there, tucked into the shadows of the hallway leading to the dj booth, was the culprit — hongjoong.

he had his hand clamped firmly around your wrist, his whole vibe screaming "i’m doing you a favor". he didn't look like the others, well, at least the half, because the orange haired man had the same calming energy jongho and yeosang have. he looked like the captain of a sinking ship who was determined to be the last one standing.

"alright, sunshine. you've had enough for tonight," he muttered, pulling you into the darkness of the booth before seonghwa could even think to follow. "it's time you actually have fun."

what the fuck was even happening? you felt like a ragdoll being tossed between a pack of extremely attractive nutcrackers. one second, you were melting into the raven-haired prince of the backyard, and the next you were being yanked through a sweaty crowd by the guy in charge of the music. you weren’t even drunk, and you couldn't decide if that made the situation better or infinitely worse.

san was right. he was so, so right. you should have stayed in your pajamas, eating takeout and binge-watching some comfort show. but as the bass vibrated through the floorboards of the dj platform, rattling your very bones, any lingering anxiety was drowned out by the volume.

hongjoong was in his element. neon buttons glowed under his quick fingers as he tapped out rhythms, his headphones pushed back off one ear so he could hear the crowd’s roar. he was bumping his head to the beat, focused energy radiating off him. for a moment, you actually felt safe here, tucked away on this elevated platform where the ocean of people couldn't reach you.

looking down from this height, the scale of the party was terrifying. the house was a literal club, and you found yourself wondering again where the hell these guys got the money for a place with a professional-grade dj booth and tiered platforms. you scanned the crowd for a familiar face, but the others were gone. wooyoung was probably lost in a cloud of smoke somewhere; yunho, mingi, and seonghwa were likely still hunting for you; and jongho and yeosang were probably still hiding in their quiet sanctuary.

as for san... he was nowhere to be seen. you imagined him playing bouncer or frantically cleaning up a broken bottle in some corner of the house.

after a few more minutes of well-done and smooth transitions, hongjoong flipped a switch to play a pre-mixed set. slumping back into his chair, his chest heaving as he threw his head back and took a long, burning sip of what looked like whiskey. he finally turned his attention to you. he wasn't looking at you with the same hungry competition the others had. he was just... curious. taking in the tiny dress, the way you were trembling just slightly, and the fact that your lipstick was definitely smudged from your detour with seonghwa.

he’d seen the beginning of the night, and how wooyoung had practically snatched you out of san’s arms. then you’d vanished into the house, becoming a ghost until he happened to walk into the kitchen and saw you standing there like a deer in headlights.

"you're not what i expected," he muttered, the whiskey raspy in his throat. "i mean, you're really pretty, i get why they're all acting like idiots over you."

taking another sip, his gaze drifting back to the crowd. "but i see why san wanted you to stay away. you don't belong in a place like this. you're not exactly innocent, but this house... it's a meat grinder, sunshine. and tonight, you're the only thing on the menu."

he wasn't flirting; he was being honest, which was somehow more intimate than anything that had happened. reaching out, his thumb brushing a stray smudge of lipstick from the corner of your mouth, his touch surprisingly tender.

"you look like you're about to burst into tears or pass out," the dj noted, a small, lopsided smirk tugging at his lips. "so, do you want me to keep you up here where it's safe, or are you ready to go find your boy and get the hell out of this circus?"

the moment hongjoong mentioned san, the dam finally broke. your eyes welled up, the neon lights blurring into streaks of pink and blue. you felt small, overstimulated, and utterly exhausted by the relentless pursuit of these men who seemed to be playing a game you didn't have the rulebook for.

"i just want to find him," you whispered, your voice trembling as you looked at hongjoong. "this party is... it’s lit, i guess, but… you guys are exactly why i usually hate men. what is actually wrong with you people?"

"hate the game, not the players. it does things to the ego.” hongjoong didn't take offense, just looked at you with a knowing sort of pity, the whiskey glass clicking against his rings. “but if you're looking for san, he's probably in the gaming room, the one with the pool table and the arcade setups, or his actual bedroom. second floor, last door on the left at the very end of the hall. he usually retreats there when it gets too much to handle."

you blinked, wiping a stray tear with the back of your hand. "you have a gaming room too?” god, you are going to start stealing their jewelry and selling it on ebay, those guys are unnecessarily rich. you turned to leave, determined to bolt toward the stairs, but hongjoong’s hand snaked out and caught your wrist again. his grip wasn't aggressive, but it was firm.

“you sure you want to go alone?” he asked, glancing at the chaotic sea of people below. “i can walk you. honestly, i’m kind of worried about you. you look like you’re one bad interaction away from using those heels as a lethal weapon.”

you gulped, looking down at your sharp stilettos, well, he had a point. the house felt like a gauntlet now, and you didn't want to run into yunho or seonghwa again, or anyone else that was not san. it was not because they weren't attractive, but because your heart was already at its capacity. “you’ll actually help me find him?”

“i could use a break anyway,” he muttered, hopping down from the platform. “so, lets go.”

the walk through was like one of the rings in hell. hongjoong led the way like a captain cutting through a storm. you checked the gaming room first: a massive space filled with neon signs and the clinking of pool balls. you saw some familiar faces through the haze of smoke; hyunjin was leaning against a wall looking ethereal, while felix and jeongin were laughing over a game of air hockey. a few girls from your major were there too, looking far more composed than you felt. but san wasn't there.

“bedroom it is,” hongjoong said, pointing toward the dark hallway on the second floor. just then, his walkie-talkie buzzed, the crowd was getting restless without a dj. “crap. i gotta get back. you think you can make it the last five meters?”

“yeah,” you murmured, giving his hand a quick squeeze. “thank you, hongjoong.”

he gave you a polite nod and disappeared back into the crowd. finally, you were so close. you could see the door at the end of the hall, the one san had probably locked to keep the world out. you took a step, your heart leaping in anticipation, but before you could reach the handle, a hand shot out from the shadows.

your wrist was snatched, and before you could even scream, you were spun around. your back hit the wall with a muffled thud, the air leaving your lungs in a sharp puff. it was dim in this corner of the hallway, the only light coming from the flickering strobe lamps downstairs. you looked up, eyes wide and heart hammering against your ribs.

“found you, dollface." 

the voice purred. it was low, cocky, and dripped with that signature bratty confidence that could only belong to one person.

“wooyoung?” you breathed, your pulse skyrocketing.

he was leaning over you, his blonde hair glowing in the shadows, his face inches from yours. he looked devastatingly handsome, alluring if anything else, and a part of you wanted to push him away and run to san, but another part of you was currently being influenced by the magnetism of these men. he hadn't touched you anywhere but your wrist, and even that grip was loosening into a caress, but the way he looked at you made your knees weak. the stoner occupied the space around you, his arm braced against the wall by your head, trapping you so you don’t even think about escaping.

it felt like a twisted otome game, and you were currently stuck on the most difficult route. you were so close to the san ending, however, your choices led you back to the wooyoung ending. his eyes dropped to your lips, his smirk growing wider as he realized he finally had you alone, far away from any other distractions and disruptions.

"you've been a very busy girl tonight," he whispered, his thumb tracing the pulse point on your wrist. "i turn my back for one second and you're off with the twin towers, then making out with mister dracula in the garden. you're quite the little social butterfly, no?"

"i was just looking for san," you breathed, though the way wooyoung was looking at your neck made it hard to focus on your mission.

"san is boring," wooyoung countered, tilting his head. the lollipop stick poked out of the corner of his mouth as he gave you his signature cocky smirk. "he doesn't know what to do with a girl like you. he's too busy being a good guy to realize that you're starving for someone to actually take what they want."

he leaned in closer, the tip of his nose brushing yours. "i don't play by anyone’s rules, dollface. and i definitely don't like sharing my toys once i've picked them out."

your heart hammered against your ribs. you knew san was just behind that door at the end of the hall, but with the blond pressing into you and his eyes promising every kind of trouble, the door felt miles away.

for some fucked up reason, you didn't push him away. maybe the attention was a drug, and wooyoung was leaning in to deliver the highest dose yet.

"but i–... i'm with san," you tried to defend yourself, the words sounding weak even to your own ears.

"but you’re not," he countered instantly, "if you were his, you wouldn't be wandering my house looking like a frantic little stray. if you were his, i wouldn't even be allowed to look at you, let alone do... this."

he pulled the lollipop from his mouth with a wet pop and pressed the sticky, apple-flavored candy against your lips to hush you. you stared at him, eyes wide, as he watched you with a terrifying yet pleasant smile. you parted your lips just enough to take a small and tentative suck of the candy. it was sickly sweet, and the heat in wooyoung’s eyes flared. he was thinking about indirect kisses and if it count, about the fact that your mouth was now coated in his taste.

his hand, the one that had been caging you against the wall, moved. his fingers began to play with the ends of your hair, twirling a strand slowly before his palm grazed the shell of your ear. he was high, but the weed only seemed to sharpen his focus.

"look at you," he praised, his voice dropping to a filthy whisper as his other hand slid down to find the curve of your waist to hold you in place, "so obedient. such a pretty little thing. you have no idea what you’re doing to me, do you? you've got every man in this house ready to tear each other apart just for a glimpse of this."

he leaned in, his breath hot against your neck, cologne mixed with the alcohol. "seonghwa might think he won because he got a little taste in the garden, but he’s a gentleman, and i'm not. i don't want just a taste, princess. i want the whole thing."

his fingers hooking under your chin to tilt your head back. he pulled the lollipop from your mouth and carelessly flicked it onto the floor, as it clattered against the hardwood. wooyoung stepped even closer, shoving his leg firmly between your knees, forcing your stance open as he pinned you against the wall with his body. his mouth crashed against yours, and it wasn't like the polite kiss seonghwa had given you. this was rough, desperate, and tasted of sweet apple and smoke. his tongue swept into your mouth, claiming you with a hint of arrogance that made your head spin.

you were melting into him, your fingers clutching at the soft fabric of his sweater as his leg pressed higher, the movement making your breath hitch into the kiss. seonghwa might have secured his money, but wooyoung was determined to leave a mark on your soul that san would never be able to scrub off.

the darkness of the hallway felt like a heavy velvet curtain, swallowing the two of you whole and muffling the distant rhythm of the party downstairs. thank god it was dark, because the way you were falling apart under his touch was embarrassing. you were barely anyone in this social circle, noone special, just a girl with a soft spot for a guy who couldn't commit… but you weren't just a girl; you were san’s girl, and in this house, that made you the ultimate trophy. what’s not yours is always better. it's the oldest temptation in the world, the forbidden fruit that tastes twice as sweet because of the guilt, and wooyoung was a man who lived for the taste of things he wasn't supposed to have. 

the frat was beyond caring about the bet or the money at this point; he was driven by the need to mark you as his own. his kisses turned angry and hungry, a desperate struggle for dominance as his tongue tangled with yours, deep and demanding.

"fuck," he groaned into your mouth, his hands finally losing their patience, leaving your haird to travel down, as his palm burned through the thin fabric of your dress until he reached the hem.

you let out a muffled moan into his mouth when you felt his cool rings graze the bare skin of your thigh. he didn't hesitate, his fingers hooking into the silk and dragging it upward, exposing you to the chilled air of the hallway just for a second before his warm hand replaced it. he was all over you, knowing exactly where to press, digging into the soft flesh of your hip as he hitched your leg higher over his own, pinning you so tightly against the wall that you could feel the frantic thrum of his heart against your own chest.

"you’re so intoxicating," he growled against your lips, his voice jagged with edge of lust. "san has no idea what he’s wasting. he treats you like you’re made of glass, but i know you want to be touched like this, don't you? you want someone to stop asking for permission."

his hand slid higher under the dress, as his teeth nipped at your bottom lip, then moved down to trail wet, biting marks along your jawline. he was messing with your brain, his scent and his heat overriding every moral code you’d walked in with. he was filthy, whispering praises and promises into the crook of your neck that made your toes curl inside your heels. his teeth grazed the sensitive skin of your throat, biting down just hard enough to leave a mark so dark that it would tell everyone exactly whose hands had been on you.

the sexual tension rolling off him was suffocating, a tension that made the air feel like it was vibrating. he was a predator who had finally cornered his prey, and he was taking his time savouring the kill. every time you tried to catch your breath, he stole it back, his mouth relentless, his hands wandering into places that made you feel dangerously exposed. 

wooyoung was making you his, piece by piece, right under san's nose, and the fucked up part was that you were leaning into it, your fingers tangling in his hair, begging for what san had never dared to give you. fuck the bet, fuck the already broken rules, fuck the hundred dollars… all he wanted was to fuck you, and you were seconds away from letting him do it right there against the wall.

but suddenly, the spark was gone.

the weight of wooyoung’s body was ripped away so violently that you stumbled forward, your hands grasping at empty air. a sickening sound echoed in the narrow hallway as the blonde was shoved aside, his back hitting the opposite wall with a force that made the framed pictures rattle.

you blinked, your vision blurry and your lips swollen, expecting to see anyone, but … san, whose chest was heaving, hair disheveled, and eyes blown wide with a mixture of disgust and pure devastation. he had been looking for you all night, searching every corner of that crowded and sweaty house, only to find you pinned under his best friend. the betrayal was written in the lines of his face. he looked hurt, like his heart had been physically cracked open, but he didn't give himself time to process the pain.

wooyoung stayed leaning against the wall, rubbing his arm where the shove had left a dull ache. he didn't look guilty; he just stared at san with a defiant look, his chest still pumping with the leftover adrenaline of the make-out session. your brows furrowed, your heart dropping into your stomach as you looked at wooyoung, your mouth opening to ask if he was okay, but before a single word could leave your lips, a hand clamped around yours.

"we are leaving," san’s grip was tight, not enough to bruise, but to show he wasn't letting you go for anything in the world. 

he didn't look at wooyoung, didn't even look at you. he just turned and dragged you down the stairs, weaving through the drunken crowd like a man on a mission. the noise of the party was a dull roar in your ears, a background hum to the frantic beat of your own heart. you felt the cool night air hit your face as he yanked open the front door and slammed it shut behind you. the silence of the driveway was deafening. san was already rummaging through the pocket of his jeans, the metallic jingle of his car keys sharp in the quiet night as he headed for where he has parked.

you stood there, your dress wrinkled and your lipstick smeared, unable to even process what was happening. the transition from the filthy heat of wooyoung to the icy fury of san was too much. you were caught in the middle of a war you didn't even know was being fought.

san opened the door for you, and didn't say a word as you slid into the passenger seat, and he didn't wait for you to settle before he was around the other side, throwing himself into the driver's seat. he started the engine, the roar of the car filling the small space, but he didn't put it in gear.

instead, he sat there, taking a few deep breaths, the sound of his lungs struggling for air the only thing cutting through the tension. a disappointed sigh escaped him as he ran both hands down his face, dragging the skin tight before throwing his head back. his skull hitting the headrest sounded like a punctuation mark. finally, he turned his head to look at you, taking in your trembling frame and your confused, teary eyes.

"this is why i didn't want you here," he whispered, his voice cracking under the weight of his anger. "or anywhere near them. because my fucking god, (name). i told you to listen to me and you didn't. you just do whatever you want because you’re so sure you can control it. you’re so sure you know them."

"san, i–"

"i was worried sick!" he shouted, his hands slamming against the steering wheel. "i turned around for five seconds and you were gone. i’ve been pacing this house, checking every room, thinking someone might have spiked your drink, drugged you... and then i find you in that hallway with him?"

you felt the sting of his words, the guilt of the make-out session with wooyoung still hot on your skin, but the confusion was winning.

"i didn't know things would go that way!" you shot back, your voice trembling as you fought to defend yourself. "i was just trying to have fun. i didn't know i’d be snatched up every thirty minutes by someone else. and i still don't understand why you’re so overprotective, it’s just a party, san. it’s normal for guys to flirt!"

san let out a dry and very bitter laugh, as he looked at you, his eyes full with a truth that was about to shatter everything.

"you think that was flirting? you think they just happened to find you attractive at the same time?" he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a deadly warning, "they fucking made a bet about you, (name). the second you walked through that door, you weren't a guest. you were another doll to be toyed with. they've been betting money and putting their goddamn egos on the line for your body. who could get a kiss, who could get you in bed... it was a bet."

the world felt like it stopped spinning. the air in your lungs turned to lead as the pieces of the night finally clicked into place — the way wooyoung snatched you, the way seonghwa waited by the bathroom, the way mingi and yunho hovered. it wasn't attraction, it was just for the thrill of the game.

"a bet?" you whispered, the word tasting like ash. "they... they were betting on me?"

san turned away, unable to look at the heartbreak on your face. "three hundred, that was the price for their best friend's girl."

suddenly, the guilt was gone, and you felt pathetic. you felt used, and most of all, you felt betrayed by the one person who was supposed to have your back.

"and you kept that away from me?" you demanded, your voice rising through choked out sob. "you knew they were treating me like a piece of meat for money and you didn't tell me? you just let me walk into that house like a lamb to the slaughter?"

"i was trying to protect you!"

"no, san!" you cried, a tear finally escaping and rolling down your cheek. "you weren't protecting me. you were protecting your pride. you let me look like a fool while your friends took turns seeing how much they could get away with. you let me stay in the dark while they were doing this behind your back. god, i feel so disgusting."

the car was vibrating with the force of your shared breathing, a heavy, suffocating silence following the revelation of the bet. the tears were coming fast now, hot and thick, blurring the dashboard lights as you curled into yourself. you felt like a prize in a game you never signed up for, and every touch you’d enjoyed, every smirk from wooyoung and every soft word from seonghwa, even being sandwiched between yunho and mingi, now felt like a stain. you have to realize that only three of them kept their hands off you, and you don’t even know if it was genuine or just for tonight.

"i was going to tell you…" san’s voice broke, his fingers gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were white. "i swear, i tried, but you wouldn't listen! you were so determined to prove me wrong, that you didn't give me a single second to explain why i was actually terrified."

"you should have said it anyway!" you shouted back. "you let me go in there. you let me... i let them touch me, san. i let wooyoung–"

"don't," he snapped, as he threw the car into motion, the tires screeching against the asphalt as he tore out of the driveway. "don't talk about him. don't talk about any of them."

"where are we going?" you asked through a hiccup, your voice small and broken.

"i'm driving you home," he said. his eyes fixed forward, because he didn’t want to take a look back. he didn't want you near that house, or even remembering the address, and he damn sure didn't want you anywhere near his "brothers" ever again. "i'm taking you back to your apartment and i'm making sure you forget you ever set foot on that street."

he was driving with in silence, both of you too scared to say something that will dig an even deeper hole. san loved you so much and he knew he was at fault. he should have been firmer, should have told his brothers to go to hell the moment the bet was mentioned, but he’d tried to play the middle ground and lose you in the process.

"i'm sorry," he whispered after a few blocks, his voice thick with unshed tears. "i’m so sorry i didn't keep you safe, i just... i just wanted one thing in my life that they couldn't touch."

"you don't have me, san," you murmured, looking out the window as the city lights streaked by. "you never made us official, and they saw an opening."

san’s grip on the wheel tightened. he didn't say anything for the rest of the drive, because you were right.

when he finally pulled up to your building, and parked the car, before letting you out, he turned to you, his eyes burning with sorrow, because he didn't want to fight anymore.

"i'm not letting you go upstairs thinking you're just some bet."

before you could respond, he leaned in, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was a world away from wooyoung’s filth or seonghwa’s grace. this was raw, and completely, utterly yours. it was the kind of kiss that demanded a label, a sweet treat he was never going to let anyone else take a bite again. you let out a broken sob into his mouth, your hands finding his chest, and as the kiss deepened, the anger began to melt into a desperate need to erase every other touch you'd felt.

but as you pulled away and weakly smiled at him, even stepping out of his car… you couldn’t forgive him that easily.

the walk from the car to your front door was agonizing, because he followed you like a kitten getting attached to the person who showed him kindness once. the second you stepped inside your apartment, you turned around, ready to unleash every bit of remaining rage, even if he kissed you to tone it down,

"you're a total psycho, you're an idiot for keeping that from me, and you're a–"

your words were cut off by the sudden, overwhelming force of his body crashing into yours. wrapping his arms around you so tightly it felt like he was trying to pull you into his very ribcage. he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath shaky and hot against your skin.

"im sorry," he whispered, his voice cracking. "i'm sorry, i'm so sorry for shouting, for raising my voice, and for letting you go in there."

one of his hands moved to the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair and stroking it tenderly. the good boy facade was completely gone, replaced by a man who was genuinely terrified of losing the only thing that made his life bearable.

"i thought i lost you tonight," he muffled into your shoulder. "i watched them circle you like some maniacs and i felt like i was stuck. they don't understand. they think everything is a joke... but you're the only part of my life that's real. i'm so tired, (name). i'm tired of being their goody two-shoes friend while they disrespect the one person i actually care about. i'd choose you a million times over them. i just want to be here… with you."

you felt your resolve crumble. pulling back slighlty to look at him, seeing the honesty in his glassy eyes. he wasn't the perfect and composed san right now. he was hurt, possessive, and deeply, deeply in love with you.

"don't ever keep something like that from me again," you breathed, your hands reaching up to cup his face.

"i'll spend the rest of my life making sure you know exactly what you're worth to me. and it's a hell of a lot more than a hundred dollars."

he leaned in then, his lips meeting yours in another kiss that was so emotional, and filled with a silent plea for forgiveness. as he backed you up toward the bedroom, his hands never leaving your skin, you knew the night was far from over. he was going to reclaim every inch of you, erasing the ghost of every other man's touch until there was nothing left but him.

"i will make you mine.”

"and how would you do that?" 

"by showing you.”

he has never been here before but he knew where the bedroom was. living in a house as big as a mansion has its perks when it comes to orientation. 

san didn’t wait for another word, leading you to the bed, the mattress dipping under your weight as he sat you down. he started with your shoes, kneeling on the floor like a devotee at an altar. sliding the heels off, his thumbs grazing the arches of your feet before he looked up at you. the eye contact was unyielding, because he wasn't just looking at you; he was looking into you, searching for the girl he’d almost lost to the devil.

"i’m going to wash every part of that house off you.”

he stood up and began to undress you, but it wasn't a rushed fumbling. it was pure body worship, as he worked the zipper of your dress down with steady fingers, kissing every inch of skin he uncovered: the slope of your shoulders, the dip of your collarbone, the delicate curve of your ribs. he lingered over the spots where you felt most vulnerable, his lips soft and warm, murmuring praises against your skin that made your heart swell.

"you’re so beautiful, (name). so perfect… i don't deserve to even look at you," he whispered against your stomach, his breath hitching as he felt you tremble.

he let you undress him then, your fingers shaking as you pulled his shirt over his head and fumbled with his pants. as his shirt hit the floor, you took in the sight of him: the broad shoulders, the sharp lines of his torso, his toned chest and stomach. you had seen him like this countless times before, but now he was entirely yours. his touch remained sacred as his lips found yours in a kiss that tasted like a regret for the sins he committed.

moving down your body, his jaw grazing your throat. he paused when he saw the faint, darkening mark on your neck, the one wooyoung had left. san wasn’t angry at you, but he had to reclaim what was his. his tongue swirling over the bruised skin before he began to suck and bite, replacing with a hickey that was deeper, and fueled by a love that wooyoung couldn't even comprehend.

you let out a broken moan, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. he moved lower, his mouth worshiping your breasts and then the soft skin of your stomach. you felt your eyes flutter shut, the pleasure and the overwhelmedness finally catching up to you, but san wouldn't let you hide. 

"eyes on me, angel," he commanded softly, "i want you to see who’s holding you. i want you to know exactly who you belong to… so look at me."

you forced your eyes open, meeting his gaze while he positioned himself over you making you fully lay down, as he braced himself on his forearms, framing your face with his hands, since he wanted to see everything. every flush of your skin and every flutter of your eyelids. his cock was twitching against your thigh, heavy and wanting, but he waited until you nodded, until you pulled him down for one more lingering kiss.

san sank into you slowly, as he filled you, and didn't move right away, just stayed there, buried deep. you let out a shaky breath, your nails digging into his biceps.

"you feel so good," he groaned, the sound vibrating through his chest and into yours. "so beautiful, you're the only thing that's ever felt right, baby.”

he began to move, and it was the most honest thing you had ever felt. his thrusts were slow and deliberate, reaching deep enough to make your toes blunt against the sheets. every time he pushed into you, he tilted his head to kiss you again and again, as if he was trying to breathe his own soul into you.

"that's it, look at me," he whispered, you forced your eyes open, meeting his blown-out pupils. "i've got you, yeah? i've got you, angel. no one else is ever going to touch you and see you like this.”

his fingers interlacing with yours and pinning your hands beside your head, keeping you open and vulnerable beneath him. he started to pick up the pace, but his gaze never wavered. watching the way your throat worked as you swallowed a sob, the way your chest heaved, and the way your skin flushed.

“s-san… ahh-” a truly blissful symphony of your moans and whines graced his ears.

"you're so beautiful," he praised, because it was so hard for him not to worship your divine being. "angel, you're so precious to me. i don't think you even understand. you're my everything, princess. i won’t let anything happen to you again."

the way he said it with this bleeding sincerity in his tone, was what finally broke you. the tears started to spill over, tracking down on your face. you were crying because you were overwhelmed by the weight of being loved this much. you were crying because, for the first time all night, you didn't feel like a prize or a paycheck. you felt so incredibly cherished and adored.

"i love you," you choked out, your voice breaking as you arched your back into him, seeking more of his warmth. "i love you so much, san."

his breath hitched, and for a second, he stopped moving entirely. san looked at you with such aching tenderness that it hurt to look away. 

"i love you more," he promised, leaning to kiss the tears away from your cheeks. "more than anything."

his rhythm become a little desperate as he felt you tightening around him. he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his teeth grazing your skin, as he praised you through every heavy breath. the eye contact afterward was relentless. every time he moved, he watched your reaction become a cocktail of pleasure and pain. he called you every sweet name he’d ever kept bottled up — his girl, his angel, his princess, his entire world.

the pace picking up as you realized then that san didn't just want your body; he wanted your peace, trust, and your heart.

"mine," he whispered against your lips, the word final and absolute. "forever mine."

he let out a choked sound, finding his rhythm, his movements becoming more urgent but never losing that slow and worshipping edge, even if he reached his peak, his body shaking with the force of it, his voice a broken whisper in your ear. san wasn't just making love to you… he was rewriting the night, scrubbing away every lingering shadow of the fratness.

you couldn't hold back anymore. your back arched off the mattress as your climax finally crashed over you, wave after wave of intense, toe-curling pleasure that felt like it would never end.your juices spilled out, coating him, the wet and slick sound that only fueled his own undoing. your pussy squeezed him, gripping him so hard he couldn't help but chuckle. san was so sensitive, that he came deep inside you as he emptied himself into you, wanting to feel every last contraction of your body as you held onto him like he was your only life support. this wasn't the first time tonight, and it wouldn't be the last. 

you had lost count somewhere around the fifth or sixth time he’d made you come. his stamina was insane, fueled by very possessive energy that kept him going long after most men would have collapsed. yet, through every round, he remained careful. it was the most passionate vanilla sex you’d ever experienced.

"one more, angel, just one more," managing to somehow say it, tone teasing as he didn't stop, even as your body began to tremble with the aftershocks of your nth orgasm. he kept the pace steady, his large hands sliding under your hips to tilt you upward, deepening the connection between your bodies until the stars were dancing behind your closed eyelids.

"eyes on me, baby. don't go anywhere," his thumbs hooked into your hips, "look at how you take me. look at how perfect you are… you were made for me, (name). only for me."

the praise was a constant hum against your skin, interspersed with wet kisses that claimed your lips, your jaw, and the sensitive hollow of your shoulder. he was worshiping you with a filthiness that felt sacred — his words were dirty, his touch was demanding, but his eyes were overflowing with a devotion that made you feel like a real angel. every time you thought you reached your limit, he woud find a new angle, and murmur another good girl or that’s it, princess until you were spiraling all over again.

the final peak was a slow-motion collision. you felt the tension coil at the base of your spine, a spark that traveled through every nerve until you were arching your back, a silent scream caught in your throat. san felt it too; his movements became frantic, his breathing hitching into grunts and whines.

"my sweet angel," he groaned, his voice a broken prayer. "just like that, give it all to me."

as you shattered for the final time, san followed you as he filled you completely, his body shuddering with the force of his climax. he didn't pull back even an inch; instead, he pushed deeper, burying himself against your cervix as his spent muscles spasmed. he stayed there, making sure every last drop of his release stayed exactly where he wanted it.

finally, his strength gave out. san collapsed on top of you, his heavy and muscular frame pinning you into the mattress. he was a dead weight, chest heaving against yours, but you didn't mind the pressure. you needed to feel the crushing reality of him to convince yourself that the nightmare of the party was finally over. your own chest was rising and falling in frantic bursts, your lungs burning as you tried to catch your breath. 

san tilted his head, his sweaty hair sticking to his forehead as he found the strength to plant a shaky kiss on the side of your neck. "you did so good for me, baby," he whispered. "mm, you're safe. i'm right here."

you reached up, your fingers trembling as you stroked his hair, pulling him even closer if that was even possible. the tears were still there, leaking from the corners of your eyes. you loved him so much, a love that was messy and protective and finally, finally official.

san stayed there for a long time, just breathing you in, until he started to calm down and eventually, he shifted, groaning as he braced himself on his elbows. when he slowly pulled out, the sudden loss of him made you let out a soft, confused whimper.

"w-what?" you breathed, reaching out blindly for him, your mind still a hazy mess of dopamine and exhaustion.

"shhh, i'm not going anywhere, angel," he murmured, a sweet expression on his face that was a far cry from the possessive man who had just dismantled you. he looked almost shy, his bottom lip tucked slightly as he brushed a stray hair from your damp forehead. "i’m going to take care of you. also... where is your bathroom?"

you pointed wordlessly toward the door, watching him as he padded across the room. you had been with guys before, but aftercare had always been just a concept. usually, it was a quick reach for a phone or a clumsy apology before they fell asleep. nobody had ever looked at you with this much tenderness after the fact.

a few minutes later, he was back, gently coaxing you off the bed. you felt like jelly, your legs trembling so much you probably would have hit the floor if he hadn't caught you. he carried you to the bathroom. you didn't have a bathtub, just a standard shower, but san turned it into a sanctuary.

the man who had spent the last hour destroying your cervix and marking his territory was now behaving like a complete sweetheart. preparing the water at a perfect temperature, keeping you steady against his chest. he was so thorough and so gentle in helping you clean yourself. even started blowing bubbles at you until you were giggling despite your exhaustion. san was an adorable, muscular toddler who happened to be deeply in love with you.

once you were both clean and dry, you managed to dig out an oversized shirt for him. well, as oversized as a shirt could be for someone with his build. it clung to his biceps and chest in a way that made your heart skip, but he didn't complain. he looked comfortable, and entirely at peace in your space.

san insisted on changing your sheets, tossing the messy ones into the laundry basket while you sat on the edge of the bed in your robe. he wouldn't let you lift a finger. finally, he pulled the duvet up over both of you, cocooning you in a nest of warmth, smelling like your shampoo and body wash.

he spent the next hour just holding you, his fingers tracing the intricate lines of your palms as if he were trying to memorize your future. his lips were never far from your skin, pressing kisses here and there, telling you how he’d felt the very first time he saw you — how he’d known even then that you were trouble for his heart. he talked about the pain of watching you near his friends tonight, the suffocating fear that they would ruin the one beautiful thing he had.

you felt secure, tucked into him, your fingers tracing the hard lines of his biceps. you still couldn't quite believe he was all yours, that one of the frats had finally broken all the rules for you.

"san?" you whispered, your voice muffled against his chest.

"hm?" he hummed, his chest vibrating against your ear as he tightened his hold.

"what are you going to do about your friends?"

he didn't tense up this time, just pulled you closer, his chin resting comfortably on the top of your head as he spooned you, his strong arms acting as a literal shield against the rest of the world. he took a deep breath, the scent of your shampoo calming the last of his spiked up nerves.

"probably move out," he admitted, sounding a little unsure. "or at the very least, have a very serious talk about boundaries and what the word no actually means. i can't be in that environment anymore if it means they think they can treat you like that."

the quiet room was a contrast to the chaos you’d escaped, the only sound being san’s heartbeat beneath your ear. as the adrenaline finally ebbed away, a small seed of worry poked through the haze. you wondered about the shattered friendships, the tension in the house, and the weight he was carrying just to keep you safe.

"stop overthinking, baby." sensing your shift in mood, san tightened his grip, his hand sliding up to cradle the back of your head. "don't worry about me. none of that matters right now."

he began to ramble again, a soft stream of consciousness designed to drown out your racing thoughts. he talked about the most mundane things such as how he wanted to take you to that cafe by the river next weekend, how he’d seen a sunset a few days ago that made him think about a picnic date, and how he couldn't wait to just wake up next to you without a single place to be.

you felt yourself beginning to drift, your limbs turning to lead as his voice acted as a tether to a world where everything was finally okay. 

"you're my everything," he whispered into the crown of your head, "sweet dreams, my love."

with one final kiss on your hair, he let out a soft, contented sigh, closing his eyes, his body finally going slack against yours, his heart full with the simple joy of knowing that he had finally won the only game that ever mattered. for the first time in months, he was happy and whole now that he was finally resting beside his one and only. 

by the time you woke up, it was already afternoon the very same day. you found san in the kitchen, still wearing the oversized shirt you’d given him, stretching tight across his back, the hem barely reaching his thighs, and it's now that you noticed the dolce & gabana boxers. he looked like a devoted husband, humming to himself as he tossed pasta in a pan, spending the last hour in your kitchen to prepare a simple meal for you.

"good morning, sunshine," he murmured, turning with a smile so bright it felt like he was fighting with the sun itself. "i wanted to make sure you ate something before i had to go." 

you sat at the dining table, resting your head on your palm, as he served you a plate, and then giving you a kiss on your cheek.

"i just... i don't want you to go back there," you whispered, reaching out for the pepper, "yunjin is going to kill me when she finds out i let you sleep in my bed. she’ll probably burn the bed with both of us in it. "

he then watched you enjoy the pasta, sipping you water, giving you everything you need, and even washing the dishes afterwards. gosh, can’t he propose already? unfortunately, all good things come to an end, that resulted in him putting his clothes from yesterday and standing infront of your door.

"you know you can stay here.”

"as much as i’d love to hide out here forever and play house, i have to go back." pressing a quick peck on your lips, but his gaze turning serious as he pulled back and walked away to the elevator. "i'll call you the second i’m done. i promise, just let me handle this."

the frat house was silent when san stepped through the front door. which was strange, because he had expected the usual blaring music, and the smell of alcohol, and maybe mingi passed out on the couch. instead, and the smell of weed was replaced by a lemon floor cleaner. everything was spotless, even the shoes were lined up by the door. 

the first person he saw was jongho. the youngest was in the kitchen, his muscles straining against a tight gym shirt as he shook his protein bottle.

"hey, hyung," jongho said, his voice neutral. he didn't look guilty, because he hadn't been part of the betting pool, but he looked exhausted by the tension. "good to see you're alive."

san didn't smile. "where are the others?"

"hongjoong-hyung and seonghwa-hyung are cleaning the backyard. wooyoung-hyung... he’s in his room, hasn't come out since he did his chores couple of hours ago," the youngest replied, taking a sip of his shake. "as for the others, i don’t know. they’re laying low. "

"then tell them to get in the living room."

one by one, the boys filtered in. hongjoong and seonghwa looked disheveled, their clothes damp from the cleaning. yeosang was zoning out, mingi and yunho hovered near the back, looking like kicked puppies, jongho was the only one who looked at him in the eye without flinching. the only one missing was woyooung.

san stood in the center of the room, his arms crossed ovee his chest. he didn't yell. he didn't throw a punch. he just looked at them with a cold, piercing disappointment that was far more terrifying than anger.

"i’ve known and trusted you guys for years," san began, his voice low and dangerous. "i didn't think i had to explain to my best friends what the words stop and no meant. or that my girlfriend wasn't some trophy or prize to snatch. i thought i knew who you were, but the second i turned my back, you turned a girl i care about into some twisted game, and for a more than a hundred bucks… that’s what her dignity was worth to you?"

"san, we–" mingi started, but san’s gaze snapped to him, silencing him instantly.

"no. i’m talking. you don't get to defend it. you put money on her body and used the trust i built with her to try to get a score."

he cut him off because they failed him. not as brothers, but as men.

"you all sat in a circle and talked about her like she was some property." you planned how to corner her. if i ever, and i mean ever, hear any of you mention something sickening or breathe in her direction without my permission, you're losing a tooth… i was going to move out today. the only reason i’m not is that i want to see if any of you are actually worth keeping as friends.” that resulted in shocked faces with widened eyes, “do i make myself clear?"

the room went radio silent. unusually, apologies came in stammers: sincere from some, awkward from others. but he didn't stay to listen to the justifications, as he turned his back on them and walked upstairs.

later as it became evening with the sun setting down, san was in his bedroom, the blue light of his computer screen reflecting in his eyes as he tried to lose himself in a game. the tension in his shoulders was still there, because he didn't forgive them, not yet. egos were bruised, both theirs and his, trust was lost, but that’s just how the frat world work, or rather the men’s world.

knock, knock. knock, knock. the rhythm was unmistakable, because it was a code. san didn't look away from the screen as the door creaked open. wooyoung slipped inside, his movements cat-like, checking before doing anything. he didn't say anything at first, just walked over and sat on the edge of san's bed. a cola-flavored lollipop was tucked into the corner of his mouth.

"whatcha doin'?" wooyoung cleared his throat, the candy clicking against his teeth. 

san ignored him, his fingers clicking rapidly on the mouse.

"you still mad?" wooyoung tried again. "is it free-to-play? the game, i mean."

the good boy countied to ignore him by tapping on the keyboard.

"sannie? come on. talk to me." 

"i'm busy, wooyoung." 

"look, sannie," the blond sighed, his shoulders dropping. he reached up and pulled the lollipop from his mouth with a soft pop. "i’m sorry. i really am. i didn't mean to cross a line like that. i thought we were all just having fun, ‘ya know? i thought you’d be into the competition too. it was just a frat thing, we have done this before… well we, not you."

san paused the game. the silence in the room became absolute as he spun his gaming chair around to face his best friend. "she isn't a frat thing, woo. she’s my girlfriend. so if you ever touch her again like you did in that hallway, i don't care how long we’ve known each other. i’ll not tolerate shit like this."

"girlfriend, huh? moving fast, but okay. i get it, you are putting boundaries."

“she’s the person i love. do you get that?”

wooyoung stared at him, blinking from time to time, processing the information. "yeah, i get it. i’m sorry, man. won't happen again, i promise. she's all yours… so, we're good?"

san looked at him, searching for the lie, but wooyoung looked sincere enough. "we are… for now."

they talked for a few more minutes, a tentative peace offering made between two people who had been inseparable since high school. wooyoung stood up, popping the candy back into his mouth. "glad we’re cool. i’m gonna check on yeosang now. see ya at dinner."

"yeah. see you."

the frat walked out of the room, closing the door softly behind him. as soon as the wood clicked into the frame, the apologising mask fell. wooyoung stood in the hallway, biting down hard on the lollipop, the artificial cola flavor bursting across his tongue as the candy shattered into tiny shards. 

his eyes darkened, fixed on nothing. he could still feel the phantom presence of your body against the wall, the way you had tasted of sweet apple and surrender. he had told san what he wanted to hear, but his heart was doing something entirely different.

he wasn't sorry, not at all. he told san he was feeling awful, that he was just doing his usual thing, and he promised his best friend that he’d back off. but as he shoved his hands into his pockets and looked back at the closed bedroom door, he knew he was a liar. the bet was over, sure. san had the title and the official status. but wooyoung had the memory of how easily you melted for a bad influence, and if he had to play the long game, to be supportive… he’d wait for the cracks or any opening if lady luck was on his side.

pulling out his phone, scrolling to a photo he’d snapped of you earlier that night when you didn't know he was looking. 

"tsk, official my ass," wooyoung whispered to the empty hall, his thumb tracing the screen over your face. "we'll see how long that lasts, doll."

uneven thudding in his chest, a rhythm he hated, a weakness he hadn't planned for. it was a glitch in his system that occurred every time he closed his eyes and saw your pretty face.

san was the paradigm, the golden standard of a man who believed that love was a framework of protection and official labels. he lived by a set of rules that made him feel safe, as if the world was a map he could finally navigate on his own. 

you were the enigma, the puzzle that didn't fit into the frat’s predatory architecture. a riddle wooyoung couldn't solve, and the paradox of your surrender in that hallway was driving him to the brink of insanity.

the house was filled with stigmas. the collective disapproval of a society that saw them as nothing but high-status predators, and wooyoung had always worn that reputation like a badge of honor.

he turned and walked away, this time as a man who was no longer playing for money, but for keeps. his thumb grazed his lower lip, still tasting the ghost of your sweetness, and his eyes were full with a hunger that would make san’s heart stop. his best friend could keep the title, wooyoung was going to take the girl… after all, he had never been a good loser.

reblog with tags, comment and show love to this fic, or i will unalive you in your sleep <33

© KISSSAN do not copy, repost or modify my work.

his body reacted before his brain could, completely helpless under your spell. hongjoong immediately threw his arms back, planting his palms firmly on the mattress behind him to support his weight, leaving himself completely defenseless to you. his fingers dug into the sheets, strained against the desperate urge to feel you.

"good boy," you praised, taking your time to strip away his control piece by piece, along with his and your clothes, leaving him completely bare and vulnerable beneath you. you line yourself up, and the moment you place your hands on his shoulders, your nails digging hard into his skin, as you slowly lower your hips, taking every single inch of his thick cock inside you. 

hongjoong’s eyes grew wide, a groan tore from the back of his throat as his hips involuntarily hitched upward, but your weight held him firmly down. as you began to move, lifting yourself up and bouncing down in a ruthless rhythm, the realization hit him with euphoric clarity: it was right then that he felt how stretched and filled you are by him. 

"god… you feel so good," you moaned, leaning down to capture his lips in a deep and searing kiss. you swallowed his desperate groans, your tongue tangling with his as you rode him harder, the obnoxious wet sound of skin slapping echoes in the room.

hongjoong couldn't take his eyes off you, his head thrown back whenever you pulled away, completely drunk on the sight of you fucking yourself on him. "ah, fuck," he whined, a needy sound escaping his lips as you hit his sweet spot with a particularly heavy thrust. "look at you... please, angel, let me touch you, i’m gonna–"

"no," you gasped out, your voice breathless but dominant as you slammed your hips down against his again, making him white-out from the pleasure. "keep your hands back, hongjoong. just look at me and take it all."

"yes, ma'am," he choked out, his vision blurring as he watched you command his body, entirely enslaved to your rhythm, completely yours. his mind is unable to process anything but the blinding force of you moving on top of him.

you want more of his sweet surrender. leaning down, you take his wrists from where they rest behind his back and loop a soft, tight silk tie around them, binding his hands securely together behind his torso. the sudden restriction makes his posture arch off more into you, a broken sound caught in his throat as he realizes he can’t even use his hands to stabilize his weight anymore. he is completely at your mercy, entirely exposed and defenseless while you continue to ruthlessly ride him.

"please, i'm– i'm so close," hongjoong gasps out, his skin is flushed crimson, chest heaving violently under the your authority. he is completely overstimulated, every nerve ending screaming from the way you're pumping yourself on his cock while his arms are trapped behind him. "sweetheart, please, i can't hold it–"

"let it go for me, captain," your voice low and dripping with praise as you grind your hips down extra hard, your nails scratching down his chest.

that single command shatters his remaining restraint. whining into your neck as his cock pulses violently inside you as he cums in heavy spurts. because he’s so incredibly sensitive and wound up from the stress of the past few weeks, the release is explosive, the heat of his climax flooding your velvety walls, making it drip down his thighs, causing a sticky mess of the rumpled sheets beneath him. he’s shaking uncontrollably, trapped in a state of a hazy afterglow, admiring the only woman who holds the power to break him.

❝ i want her, i can’t refuse her ❞

for SEONGHWA, the submission is deeply sensory and overwhelming. he wants to be consumed by you and worship you like a deity. he always looks so perfect, until the moment you cover his eyes with a silken blindfold. suddenly, the elegant facade fades as he submits to your every whim. your man is a strict perfectionist who prides himself on his restraint, but around you, that composure dissolves into helpless longing. the second you decide to test his limits, he becomes a man starving, and you are holding the feast, intentionally taking your sweet time to prolong his agony. 

he lies back on the soft mattress, his chest heaving as he takes heavy breaths through his nose, completely unable to refuse whatever tormenting pace you choose for him. his fingers twitching against the sheets as you trail your nails down his toned chest, mapping out the hard lines of his abdomen, teasing him just out of reach. by withholding the full weight of your body, you force him to endure the delicious torture of anticipating the unknown.

"before we go any further, hwa," you whisper, leaning down until your breath warms against his lips. "star is still our go-to if it's too much, right? how are you feeling?"

"good… very good right now," seonghwa pants, his adam's apple bobbing heavily as his head rolls back into the pillow. "it’s so intense already, darling. just... keep going, don't stop."

you immediately pivot into a cruel game of sensory tease. one second you are resting on his right side, pressing wet kisses along his jawline, licking up to the sensitive spot behind his ear while whispering sweet nothings into the shell of it. “you look so beautiful like this, hwa...” but the very next second, you pull away entirely. you don't touch him, you don't even breathe loudly. you just keep quiet, letting the heavy silence stretch out until his breath hitches, then you talk again just to make him jump.

without his vision, seonghwa is forced to rely solely on his remaining senses to track you. touch becomes electric, sound becomes terrifyingly intimate, as anticipation builds in a way that is simply not possible when all senses are engaged. he catches the faint scent of your perfume while you move across the bed. his ears strain to catch your knees sliding against the sheets, the quiet padding of your bare footsteps, and the rustling of what he correctly assumes is your clothes being shed and discarded onto the floor.

"are you naked for me yet, my love?" he pleads, his voice breaking as he blindly tilts his chin up, searching for something he can’t see. "i can hear you... tell me what you're doing to me, give me a clue."

you straddle his lap, but keep your torso hovering just inches above his, refusing him the full contact his aching skin craves.

"i'm sitting right over you, hwa," you purr, your voice low, which makes his cock twitch fiercely in his trousers. "and if you stay perfectly still and keep your hands right where they are, i might just let you feel how ready i am for you. i think i’ll let you taste me first, until you're sobbing into my cunt, and then i might finally let you slide inside me. how does that sound?"

"fuck," a tear escapes from beneath the silk blindfold, tracking down his flushed cheek. "it sounds perfect. please, i beg you, princess... i’m yours. use me and ruin me. i can't refuse you anything."

every single touch from you feels like a divine blessing to his deprived senses, and he is weeping for it. you hover above him, shifting your weight until you are straddling his face, your wet heat pressing directly against his lips. seonghwa lets out a muffled gasp against your skin, his hands gripping the mattress so hard because he knows he is not allowed to touch you just yet.

"use that pretty tongue for me, mm?" you command, your fingers tangling in his dark hair to firmly guide his head exactly where you want it.

he doesn't need to be told twice. even blindfolded, his tongue works with this intoxicating devotion, lapping up your slickness, tracing your sensitive folds with an intense hunger. the wet sounds of his tongue devouring you fill the quiet room, and you throw your head back, groaning loudly as he hits your sweet spot.

pushing your hips down harder against his mouth, as a pathetic whine tears from his throat when a massive wave of pleasure crashes through his lower half. right there, with your thighs clamping his head, seonghwa’s body betrays him: he cums straight into his pants.

you pull back to look down at his flushed face, a smirk pulling at your lips. "aww, look at you," you tease, your voice malicious as you tap his soaked crotch with your hands. "cumming without me even touching your cock. so much for being such a patient man."

seonghwa panting heavily, his tongue licking his wet lips, obsessed with the taste of you. "i'm sorry," he whimpers, completely undone beneath you. "i'm so pathetic for you, sweetheart... please don't stop." and you don’t plan to.

❝ it hurts me so much, but i can’t turn away ❞

YUNHO is a greedy man, and his greed comes from an insatiable hunger for your absolute attention. he is never truly satisfied, always craving to be entirely possessed by you so he can ground himself in the absolute certainty that he belongs to you. under normal circumstances, your boyfriend plays the role of the gentle giant — always teasingly dominant, using his size to playfully hoard your affection and keep you tucked against his chest.

but tonight, you completely flip the script. the moment he tries to crowd you, you slide a pair of heavy metal handcuffs around his soft wrists, pinning his arms high above his head and locking the steel securely to the bed’s headboard. the metallic click signals his total downfall, and the sudden realization that he is completely trapped beneath you makes him absolutely lose his mind.

he is massive, all broad shoulders and towering height, but emotionally, he is so deeply wrapped around your finger that it almost aches. the hurt in him is the exquisite tension of wanting you so badly it physically pains him. you climb into his lap, straddling his thighs so that his only option is to tilt his jaw back and look up at you, his eyes wide and completely captivated by the sight of his owner.

"you like to be in control, don't you, yunho?" you purr, your fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw before sliding down to wrap around his exposed throat. "how does it feel now? looking up at me while you're completely stuck?"

"it feels... shit, i don’t know," yunho rasps, a vibration against your palm. even with his freedom stripped away, he doesn't sound entirely broken; there is still a possessive gleam in his eyes, a stubbornness that lingers of his natural dominance that only makes his submission sweeter. "do whatever you want to me, doll."

commanding him to stay still, and he obeys instantly, locking his eyes on yours, refusing to look away from his owner. you leave a hot trail of wet kisses from his lips, down his neck, over his chest, and across his flat stomach, until you slide lower, unhooking his trousers and pulling them down to expose his cock. it immediately twitches against his stomach. you lick right over the sensitive tip, catching the sweet pre-cum on your tongue before spitting directly onto the head, rubbing the lubrication down his length with your palm. pumping him slowly, teasing him while he squirms, his massive thighs flexing as he tries to arch into your hand.

"i told you to stay still," you retort, leaning down between his legs.

you wrap your lips around his tip, taking him into your mouth. yunho’s hips immediately twitch upward out of instinct, but you dig your nails sharp into his thighs, pinning his legs down. you dive deeper, your throat tightly clamping around his thick girth as you slightly gag and choke on him. bopping your head up and down, putting on a filthy show until you feel him swell and pulse in your mouth.

just as you feel his lower abdomen tighten, his breathing turns into a series of breathless whines and heavy groans that signal his approaching climax, you suddenly stop. you pull completely off him with a wet pop, leaving him entirely denied at the very precipice of his orgasm. 

"ah, fuck– no, don't do me like that, dollface… please," yunho groans, and he sounds like a wreck. he isn't the type to beg pathetically, his pride still keeping his tone firm and demanding even while bound, but the frustration of the denial makes his entire body tremble. "don't do that to me… you know what i need, get on it."

"not yet, big boy," you whisper, wiping your lips as you shift your body back up his lap.

you align yourself over him, guiding his leaking tip against your soaking wet entrance before slamming your hips down rather roughly. you take him whole inside you in one stroke, the sudden action mixing an exquisite sting of pain with absolute pleasure. leaning your weight forward, placing your hands flat against his chest as you begin to bounce on him, setting a brutal pace that gives him no room to breathe. yunho stretches you to the absolute limit, and you enjoy looking down at him while he's handcuffed; he looks up at you like you are an angel with devil horns.

quicking the pace, your wet walls squeezing him tight, and the sight of the thick veins straining on his trapped hands sends you straight over the edge. you moan his name loudly, your cunt clamping down hard as you climax, and that crushing squeeze breaks his remaining restraint. 

yunho cums deep inside you, his hips bucking violently into yours in heavy, that it completely overfills you. the hot mess of your combined orgasms dripping onto the rumpled sheets beneath his locked frame. his voice is so incredibly raspy, soft, and impossibly deep as he pants beneath you, his chest heaving out of breath. "ah... fuck, doll... look at the mess you made.”

a lazy smirk tugs at the corner of his lips as he tilts his head to look down at your shaking body still draped over his lap.

"you couldn't even handle your own rules, could you?" so smug and cocky, his heavy hips giving you a twitch upward to remind you exactly who just filled you to the brim. "you took all my control away, but you're still the one left trembling, hm... how cute."

❝ it’s fine even if i’m hurt like this, without moving a muscle, i’m chained up ❞

YEOSANG is usually quiet, a man of a few words and reserved glances, but behind closed doors, he is absolutely starving for you to take over. gluttony is the only word to describe the insatiable hunger he has for your touch, voice, and sweet praise. you feed directly into his desperate need by rationing your affection, requiring a perfect execution of obedience before you give him a single drop of pleasure. your boyfriend has to obey, stay still, and serve you perfectly just to get a single taste of your lips, becoming utterly drunk on your authority.

playing into his doll-like beauty, you explicitly command him not to move, treating him like a beautiful puppet just so you can pull the strings. he stands in the middle of the bedroom, his eyes wide and completely captivated by you. you’ve already ripped open his shirt, leaving him bare from the waist up. his toned chest heaving as you gently restrain his hands behind his back with a soft satin cord. you look him dead in the eye and give your law: he cannot touch you, speak, or move a single muscle until you allow it. yeosang is so sweet, so eager to please that the mere thought of making you mad or disappointing you makes his stomach flip. the thrill for him is absolute obedience, completely chained by your words alone.

"you're doing so good for me, yeosangie," you whisper, dragging your fingers down his throat. "my pretty boy, staying so still."

"anything for you, angel," he breathes, his voice trembling as he breaks the rule of silence just to worship you. "i'm yours. please... tell me what to do."

when you finally permit him to move, he gladly bears the sweet torture of your restraint because the reward of your praise is his entire world.

eventually, the dynamic shifts to the mattress. you untie his wrists and shed the rest of your clothes, crawling onto the bed together. but the game isn't over; you set a new, high-stakes task. your hands are now resting flat on the sheets, as you tell him that he has to do all the work while you stay completely still. if he fails to extract an orgasm from you through his service alone, guess who will be chained up again?

the pressure drives him wild. yeosang is already beautifully marked up by you — his pale skin painted with purple hickeys, smudged red lipstick stains, and your sharp nails have already scratched his back raw, painting it red like it’s a bloody massacre. he deserves every single mark, especially with the way his thick cock is lovingly abusing your pussy, imprinting himself roughly into your walls as he returns the favor.

both of you are obsessed with missionary. there is something intensely kinky about doing it in the most vanilla position of all while being freaky as hell. it allows for constant and uninterrupted face-to-face contact, and you thrive on that power. it looks like yeosang is the one who should be in control, but your eyes remind him exactly who holds the leash.

he shifts his weight, his hands gripping your thigh to raise your left leg until your knee is level with your right shoulder, keeping your other leg pinned flat on the bed. the extreme angle opens you up completely, stretching you around his length as he drives deep inside you.

"you like this, baby?" he pants, sweat dripping from his jaw onto your chest as he thrusts into you, his eyes locked on yours. "look at how perfectly you take me. you're so tight around me, princess."

"shh… yeosang, stop talking so loud," you command softly, your eyes narrowing. "and keep your pace steady."

instantly, he bites his lower lip until it bleeds, completely silencing his voice, whimpering mutely into his own mouth as he obeys. if you told him to get off the bed and onto his knees right now, he would fall down and propose to you on the spot, since he is completely at your mercy.

but your tightness combined with the intensity of your gaze becomes too much for his sensitive body to handle. he tries to pull back and hold it in, however, with one devastating shove against your cervix, yeosang cums deep inside you without your permission. his cock is pulsing violently as he fills you to the brim with hot spurts of his seed. the room goes dead silent except for his ragged breathing. he stays buried inside you, his hands shaking against the mattress as he realizes what he just did.

you look up at him, a sly smirk spreading across your lips as you tap his chest. "did i tell you that you could cum inside me?"

yeosang’s eyes go completely wide, tears of pleasure and sudden panic swimming in them as he looks down at you like an angel who is about to punish him for a sin he didn’t mean to commit. "i-i'm sorry, angel... i couldn't hold it, you're felt too g-good, please–"

"well, then…” you whisper, reaching blindly under the pillow. "where did i put those handcuffs?"

© KISSSAN do not copy, repost or modify my work.

his body reacted before his brain could, completely helpless under your spell. hongjoong immediately threw his arms back, planting his palms firmly on the mattress behind him to support his weight, leaving himself completely defenseless to you. his fingers dug into the sheets, strained against the desperate urge to feel you.

"good boy," you praised, taking your time to strip away his control piece by piece, along with his and your clothes, leaving him completely bare and vulnerable beneath you. you line yourself up, and the moment you place your hands on his shoulders, your nails digging hard into his skin, as you slowly lower your hips, taking every single inch of his thick cock inside you. 

hongjoong’s eyes grew wide, a groan tore from the back of his throat as his hips involuntarily hitched upward, but your weight held him firmly down. as you began to move, lifting yourself up and bouncing down in a ruthless rhythm, the realization hit him with euphoric clarity: it was right then that he felt how stretched and filled you are by him. 

"god… you feel so good," you moaned, leaning down to capture his lips in a deep and searing kiss. you swallowed his desperate groans, your tongue tangling with his as you rode him harder, the obnoxious wet sound of skin slapping echoes in the room.

hongjoong couldn't take his eyes off you, his head thrown back whenever you pulled away, completely drunk on the sight of you fucking yourself on him. "ah, fuck," he whined, a needy sound escaping his lips as you hit his sweet spot with a particularly heavy thrust. "look at you... please, angel, let me touch you, i’m gonna–"

"no," you gasped out, your voice breathless but dominant as you slammed your hips down against his again, making him white-out from the pleasure. "keep your hands back, hongjoong. just look at me and take it all."

"yes, ma'am," he choked out, his vision blurring as he watched you command his body, entirely enslaved to your rhythm, completely yours. his mind is unable to process anything but the blinding force of you moving on top of him.

you want more of his sweet surrender. leaning down, you take his wrists from where they rest behind his back and loop a soft, tight silk tie around them, binding his hands securely together behind his torso. the sudden restriction makes his posture arch off more into you, a broken sound caught in his throat as he realizes he can’t even use his hands to stabilize his weight anymore. he is completely at your mercy, entirely exposed and defenseless while you continue to ruthlessly ride him.

"please, i'm– i'm so close," hongjoong gasps out, his skin is flushed crimson, chest heaving violently under the your authority. he is completely overstimulated, every nerve ending screaming from the way you're pumping yourself on his cock while his arms are trapped behind him. "sweetheart, please, i can't hold it–"

"let it go for me, captain," your voice low and dripping with praise as you grind your hips down extra hard, your nails scratching down his chest.

that single command shatters his remaining restraint. whining into your neck as his cock pulses violently inside you as he cums in heavy spurts. because he’s so incredibly sensitive and wound up from the stress of the past few weeks, the release is explosive, the heat of his climax flooding your velvety walls, making it drip down his thighs, causing a sticky mess of the rumpled sheets beneath him. he’s shaking uncontrollably, trapped in a state of a hazy afterglow, admiring the only woman who holds the power to break him.

❝ i want her, i can’t refuse her ❞

for SEONGHWA, the submission is deeply sensory and overwhelming. he wants to be consumed by you and worship you like a deity. he always looks so perfect, until the moment you cover his eyes with a silken blindfold. suddenly, the elegant facade fades as he submits to your every whim. your man is a strict perfectionist who prides himself on his restraint, but around you, that composure dissolves into helpless longing. the second you decide to test his limits, he becomes a man starving, and you are holding the feast, intentionally taking your sweet time to prolong his agony. 

he lies back on the soft mattress, his chest heaving as he takes heavy breaths through his nose, completely unable to refuse whatever tormenting pace you choose for him. his fingers twitching against the sheets as you trail your nails down his toned chest, mapping out the hard lines of his abdomen, teasing him just out of reach. by withholding the full weight of your body, you force him to endure the delicious torture of anticipating the unknown.

"before we go any further, hwa," you whisper, leaning down until your breath warms against his lips. "star is still our go-to if it's too much, right? how are you feeling?"

"good… very good right now," seonghwa pants, his adam's apple bobbing heavily as his head rolls back into the pillow. "it’s so intense already, darling. just... keep going, don't stop."

you immediately pivot into a cruel game of sensory tease. one second you are resting on his right side, pressing wet kisses along his jawline, licking up to the sensitive spot behind his ear while whispering sweet nothings into the shell of it. “you look so beautiful like this, hwa...” but the very next second, you pull away entirely. you don't touch him, you don't even breathe loudly. you just keep quiet, letting the heavy silence stretch out until his breath hitches, then you talk again just to make him jump.

without his vision, seonghwa is forced to rely solely on his remaining senses to track you. touch becomes electric, sound becomes terrifyingly intimate, as anticipation builds in a way that is simply not possible when all senses are engaged. he catches the faint scent of your perfume while you move across the bed. his ears strain to catch your knees sliding against the sheets, the quiet padding of your bare footsteps, and the rustling of what he correctly assumes is your clothes being shed and discarded onto the floor.

"are you naked for me yet, my love?" he pleads, his voice breaking as he blindly tilts his chin up, searching for something he can’t see. "i can hear you... tell me what you're doing to me, give me a clue."

you straddle his lap, but keep your torso hovering just inches above his, refusing him the full contact his aching skin craves.

"i'm sitting right over you, hwa," you purr, your voice low, which makes his cock twitch fiercely in his trousers. "and if you stay perfectly still and keep your hands right where they are, i might just let you feel how ready i am for you. i think i’ll let you taste me first, until you're sobbing into my cunt, and then i might finally let you slide inside me. how does that sound?"

"fuck," a tear escapes from beneath the silk blindfold, tracking down his flushed cheek. "it sounds perfect. please, i beg you, princess... i’m yours. use me and ruin me. i can't refuse you anything."

every single touch from you feels like a divine blessing to his deprived senses, and he is weeping for it. you hover above him, shifting your weight until you are straddling his face, your wet heat pressing directly against his lips. seonghwa lets out a muffled gasp against your skin, his hands gripping the mattress so hard because he knows he is not allowed to touch you just yet.

"use that pretty tongue for me, mm?" you command, your fingers tangling in his dark hair to firmly guide his head exactly where you want it.

he doesn't need to be told twice. even blindfolded, his tongue works with this intoxicating devotion, lapping up your slickness, tracing your sensitive folds with an intense hunger. the wet sounds of his tongue devouring you fill the quiet room, and you throw your head back, groaning loudly as he hits your sweet spot.

pushing your hips down harder against his mouth, as a pathetic whine tears from his throat when a massive wave of pleasure crashes through his lower half. right there, with your thighs clamping his head, seonghwa’s body betrays him: he cums straight into his pants.

you pull back to look down at his flushed face, a smirk pulling at your lips. "aww, look at you," you tease, your voice malicious as you tap his soaked crotch with your hands. "cumming without me even touching your cock. so much for being such a patient man."

seonghwa panting heavily, his tongue licking his wet lips, obsessed with the taste of you. "i'm sorry," he whimpers, completely undone beneath you. "i'm so pathetic for you, sweetheart... please don't stop." and you don’t plan to.

❝ it hurts me so much, but i can’t turn away ❞

YUNHO is a greedy man, and his greed comes from an insatiable hunger for your absolute attention. he is never truly satisfied, always craving to be entirely possessed by you so he can ground himself in the absolute certainty that he belongs to you. under normal circumstances, your boyfriend plays the role of the gentle giant — always teasingly dominant, using his size to playfully hoard your affection and keep you tucked against his chest.

but tonight, you completely flip the script. the moment he tries to crowd you, you slide a pair of heavy metal handcuffs around his soft wrists, pinning his arms high above his head and locking the steel securely to the bed’s headboard. the metallic click signals his total downfall, and the sudden realization that he is completely trapped beneath you makes him absolutely lose his mind.

he is massive, all broad shoulders and towering height, but emotionally, he is so deeply wrapped around your finger that it almost aches. the hurt in him is the exquisite tension of wanting you so badly it physically pains him. you climb into his lap, straddling his thighs so that his only option is to tilt his jaw back and look up at you, his eyes wide and completely captivated by the sight of his owner.

"you like to be in control, don't you, yunho?" you purr, your fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw before sliding down to wrap around his exposed throat. "how does it feel now? looking up at me while you're completely stuck?"

"it feels... shit, i don’t know," yunho rasps, a vibration against your palm. even with his freedom stripped away, he doesn't sound entirely broken; there is still a possessive gleam in his eyes, a stubbornness that lingers of his natural dominance that only makes his submission sweeter. "do whatever you want to me, doll."

commanding him to stay still, and he obeys instantly, locking his eyes on yours, refusing to look away from his owner. you leave a hot trail of wet kisses from his lips, down his neck, over his chest, and across his flat stomach, until you slide lower, unhooking his trousers and pulling them down to expose his cock. it immediately twitches against his stomach. you lick right over the sensitive tip, catching the sweet pre-cum on your tongue before spitting directly onto the head, rubbing the lubrication down his length with your palm. pumping him slowly, teasing him while he squirms, his massive thighs flexing as he tries to arch into your hand.

"i told you to stay still," you retort, leaning down between his legs.

you wrap your lips around his tip, taking him into your mouth. yunho’s hips immediately twitch upward out of instinct, but you dig your nails sharp into his thighs, pinning his legs down. you dive deeper, your throat tightly clamping around his thick girth as you slightly gag and choke on him. bopping your head up and down, putting on a filthy show until you feel him swell and pulse in your mouth.

just as you feel his lower abdomen tighten, his breathing turns into a series of breathless whines and heavy groans that signal his approaching climax, you suddenly stop. you pull completely off him with a wet pop, leaving him entirely denied at the very precipice of his orgasm. 

"ah, fuck– no, don't do me like that, dollface… please," yunho groans, and he sounds like a wreck. he isn't the type to beg pathetically, his pride still keeping his tone firm and demanding even while bound, but the frustration of the denial makes his entire body tremble. "don't do that to me… you know what i need, get on it."

"not yet, big boy," you whisper, wiping your lips as you shift your body back up his lap.

you align yourself over him, guiding his leaking tip against your soaking wet entrance before slamming your hips down rather roughly. you take him whole inside you in one stroke, the sudden action mixing an exquisite sting of pain with absolute pleasure. leaning your weight forward, placing your hands flat against his chest as you begin to bounce on him, setting a brutal pace that gives him no room to breathe. yunho stretches you to the absolute limit, and you enjoy looking down at him while he's handcuffed; he looks up at you like you are an angel with devil horns.

quicking the pace, your wet walls squeezing him tight, and the sight of the thick veins straining on his trapped hands sends you straight over the edge. you moan his name loudly, your cunt clamping down hard as you climax, and that crushing squeeze breaks his remaining restraint. 

yunho cums deep inside you, his hips bucking violently into yours in heavy, that it completely overfills you. the hot mess of your combined orgasms dripping onto the rumpled sheets beneath his locked frame. his voice is so incredibly raspy, soft, and impossibly deep as he pants beneath you, his chest heaving out of breath. "ah... fuck, doll... look at the mess you made.”

a lazy smirk tugs at the corner of his lips as he tilts his head to look down at your shaking body still draped over his lap.

"you couldn't even handle your own rules, could you?" so smug and cocky, his heavy hips giving you a twitch upward to remind you exactly who just filled you to the brim. "you took all my control away, but you're still the one left trembling, hm... how cute."

❝ it’s fine even if i’m hurt like this, without moving a muscle, i’m chained up ❞

YEOSANG is usually quiet, a man of a few words and reserved glances, but behind closed doors, he is absolutely starving for you to take over. gluttony is the only word to describe the insatiable hunger he has for your touch, voice, and sweet praise. you feed directly into his desperate need by rationing your affection, requiring a perfect execution of obedience before you give him a single drop of pleasure. your boyfriend has to obey, stay still, and serve you perfectly just to get a single taste of your lips, becoming utterly drunk on your authority.

playing into his doll-like beauty, you explicitly command him not to move, treating him like a beautiful puppet just so you can pull the strings. he stands in the middle of the bedroom, his eyes wide and completely captivated by you. you’ve already ripped open his shirt, leaving him bare from the waist up. his toned chest heaving as you gently restrain his hands behind his back with a soft satin cord. you look him dead in the eye and give your law: he cannot touch you, speak, or move a single muscle until you allow it. yeosang is so sweet, so eager to please that the mere thought of making you mad or disappointing you makes his stomach flip. the thrill for him is absolute obedience, completely chained by your words alone.

"you're doing so good for me, yeosangie," you whisper, dragging your fingers down his throat. "my pretty boy, staying so still."

"anything for you, angel," he breathes, his voice trembling as he breaks the rule of silence just to worship you. "i'm yours. please... tell me what to do."

when you finally permit him to move, he gladly bears the sweet torture of your restraint because the reward of your praise is his entire world.

eventually, the dynamic shifts to the mattress. you untie his wrists and shed the rest of your clothes, crawling onto the bed together. but the game isn't over; you set a new, high-stakes task. your hands are now resting flat on the sheets, as you tell him that he has to do all the work while you stay completely still. if he fails to extract an orgasm from you through his service alone, guess who will be chained up again?

the pressure drives him wild. yeosang is already beautifully marked up by you — his pale skin painted with purple hickeys, smudged red lipstick stains, and your sharp nails have already scratched his back raw, painting it red like it’s a bloody massacre. he deserves every single mark, especially with the way his thick cock is lovingly abusing your pussy, imprinting himself roughly into your walls as he returns the favor.

both of you are obsessed with missionary. there is something intensely kinky about doing it in the most vanilla position of all while being freaky as hell. it allows for constant and uninterrupted face-to-face contact, and you thrive on that power. it looks like yeosang is the one who should be in control, but your eyes remind him exactly who holds the leash.

he shifts his weight, his hands gripping your thigh to raise your left leg until your knee is level with your right shoulder, keeping your other leg pinned flat on the bed. the extreme angle opens you up completely, stretching you around his length as he drives deep inside you.

"you like this, baby?" he pants, sweat dripping from his jaw onto your chest as he thrusts into you, his eyes locked on yours. "look at how perfectly you take me. you're so tight around me, princess."

"shh… yeosang, stop talking so loud," you command softly, your eyes narrowing. "and keep your pace steady."

instantly, he bites his lower lip until it bleeds, completely silencing his voice, whimpering mutely into his own mouth as he obeys. if you told him to get off the bed and onto his knees right now, he would fall down and propose to you on the spot, since he is completely at your mercy.

but your tightness combined with the intensity of your gaze becomes too much for his sensitive body to handle. he tries to pull back and hold it in, however, with one devastating shove against your cervix, yeosang cums deep inside you without your permission. his cock is pulsing violently as he fills you to the brim with hot spurts of his seed. the room goes dead silent except for his ragged breathing. he stays buried inside you, his hands shaking against the mattress as he realizes what he just did.

you look up at him, a sly smirk spreading across your lips as you tap his chest. "did i tell you that you could cum inside me?"

yeosang’s eyes go completely wide, tears of pleasure and sudden panic swimming in them as he looks down at you like an angel who is about to punish him for a sin he didn’t mean to commit. "i-i'm sorry, angel... i couldn't hold it, you're felt too g-good, please–"

"well, then…” you whisper, reaching blindly under the pillow. "where did i put those handcuffs?"

© KISSSAN do not copy, repost or modify my work.

his body reacted before his brain could, completely helpless under your spell. hongjoong immediately threw his arms back, planting his palms firmly on the mattress behind him to support his weight, leaving himself completely defenseless to you. his fingers dug into the sheets, strained against the desperate urge to feel you.

"good boy," you praised, taking your time to strip away his control piece by piece, along with his and your clothes, leaving him completely bare and vulnerable beneath you. you line yourself up, and the moment you place your hands on his shoulders, your nails digging hard into his skin, as you slowly lower your hips, taking every single inch of his thick cock inside you. 

hongjoong’s eyes grew wide, a groan tore from the back of his throat as his hips involuntarily hitched upward, but your weight held him firmly down. as you began to move, lifting yourself up and bouncing down in a ruthless rhythm, the realization hit him with euphoric clarity: it was right then that he felt how stretched and filled you are by him. 

"god… you feel so good," you moaned, leaning down to capture his lips in a deep and searing kiss. you swallowed his desperate groans, your tongue tangling with his as you rode him harder, the obnoxious wet sound of skin slapping echoes in the room.

hongjoong couldn't take his eyes off you, his head thrown back whenever you pulled away, completely drunk on the sight of you fucking yourself on him. "ah, fuck," he whined, a needy sound escaping his lips as you hit his sweet spot with a particularly heavy thrust. "look at you... please, angel, let me touch you, i’m gonna–"

"no," you gasped out, your voice breathless but dominant as you slammed your hips down against his again, making him white-out from the pleasure. "keep your hands back, hongjoong. just look at me and take it all."

"yes, ma'am," he choked out, his vision blurring as he watched you command his body, entirely enslaved to your rhythm, completely yours. his mind is unable to process anything but the blinding force of you moving on top of him.

you want more of his sweet surrender. leaning down, you take his wrists from where they rest behind his back and loop a soft, tight silk tie around them, binding his hands securely together behind his torso. the sudden restriction makes his posture arch off more into you, a broken sound caught in his throat as he realizes he can’t even use his hands to stabilize his weight anymore. he is completely at your mercy, entirely exposed and defenseless while you continue to ruthlessly ride him.

"please, i'm– i'm so close," hongjoong gasps out, his skin is flushed crimson, chest heaving violently under the your authority. he is completely overstimulated, every nerve ending screaming from the way you're pumping yourself on his cock while his arms are trapped behind him. "sweetheart, please, i can't hold it–"

"let it go for me, captain," your voice low and dripping with praise as you grind your hips down extra hard, your nails scratching down his chest.

that single command shatters his remaining restraint. whining into your neck as his cock pulses violently inside you as he cums in heavy spurts. because he’s so incredibly sensitive and wound up from the stress of the past few weeks, the release is explosive, the heat of his climax flooding your velvety walls, making it drip down his thighs, causing a sticky mess of the rumpled sheets beneath him. he’s shaking uncontrollably, trapped in a state of a hazy afterglow, admiring the only woman who holds the power to break him.

❝ i want her, i can’t refuse her ❞

for SEONGHWA, the submission is deeply sensory and overwhelming. he wants to be consumed by you and worship you like a deity. he always looks so perfect, until the moment you cover his eyes with a silken blindfold. suddenly, the elegant facade fades as he submits to your every whim. your man is a strict perfectionist who prides himself on his restraint, but around you, that composure dissolves into helpless longing. the second you decide to test his limits, he becomes a man starving, and you are holding the feast, intentionally taking your sweet time to prolong his agony. 

he lies back on the soft mattress, his chest heaving as he takes heavy breaths through his nose, completely unable to refuse whatever tormenting pace you choose for him. his fingers twitching against the sheets as you trail your nails down his toned chest, mapping out the hard lines of his abdomen, teasing him just out of reach. by withholding the full weight of your body, you force him to endure the delicious torture of anticipating the unknown.

"before we go any further, hwa," you whisper, leaning down until your breath warms against his lips. "star is still our go-to if it's too much, right? how are you feeling?"

"good… very good right now," seonghwa pants, his adam's apple bobbing heavily as his head rolls back into the pillow. "it’s so intense already, darling. just... keep going, don't stop."

you immediately pivot into a cruel game of sensory tease. one second you are resting on his right side, pressing wet kisses along his jawline, licking up to the sensitive spot behind his ear while whispering sweet nothings into the shell of it. “you look so beautiful like this, hwa...” but the very next second, you pull away entirely. you don't touch him, you don't even breathe loudly. you just keep quiet, letting the heavy silence stretch out until his breath hitches, then you talk again just to make him jump.

without his vision, seonghwa is forced to rely solely on his remaining senses to track you. touch becomes electric, sound becomes terrifyingly intimate, as anticipation builds in a way that is simply not possible when all senses are engaged. he catches the faint scent of your perfume while you move across the bed. his ears strain to catch your knees sliding against the sheets, the quiet padding of your bare footsteps, and the rustling of what he correctly assumes is your clothes being shed and discarded onto the floor.

"are you naked for me yet, my love?" he pleads, his voice breaking as he blindly tilts his chin up, searching for something he can’t see. "i can hear you... tell me what you're doing to me, give me a clue."

you straddle his lap, but keep your torso hovering just inches above his, refusing him the full contact his aching skin craves.

"i'm sitting right over you, hwa," you purr, your voice low, which makes his cock twitch fiercely in his trousers. "and if you stay perfectly still and keep your hands right where they are, i might just let you feel how ready i am for you. i think i’ll let you taste me first, until you're sobbing into my cunt, and then i might finally let you slide inside me. how does that sound?"

"fuck," a tear escapes from beneath the silk blindfold, tracking down his flushed cheek. "it sounds perfect. please, i beg you, princess... i’m yours. use me and ruin me. i can't refuse you anything."

every single touch from you feels like a divine blessing to his deprived senses, and he is weeping for it. you hover above him, shifting your weight until you are straddling his face, your wet heat pressing directly against his lips. seonghwa lets out a muffled gasp against your skin, his hands gripping the mattress so hard because he knows he is not allowed to touch you just yet.

"use that pretty tongue for me, mm?" you command, your fingers tangling in his dark hair to firmly guide his head exactly where you want it.

he doesn't need to be told twice. even blindfolded, his tongue works with this intoxicating devotion, lapping up your slickness, tracing your sensitive folds with an intense hunger. the wet sounds of his tongue devouring you fill the quiet room, and you throw your head back, groaning loudly as he hits your sweet spot.

pushing your hips down harder against his mouth, as a pathetic whine tears from his throat when a massive wave of pleasure crashes through his lower half. right there, with your thighs clamping his head, seonghwa’s body betrays him: he cums straight into his pants.

you pull back to look down at his flushed face, a smirk pulling at your lips. "aww, look at you," you tease, your voice malicious as you tap his soaked crotch with your hands. "cumming without me even touching your cock. so much for being such a patient man."

seonghwa panting heavily, his tongue licking his wet lips, obsessed with the taste of you. "i'm sorry," he whimpers, completely undone beneath you. "i'm so pathetic for you, sweetheart... please don't stop." and you don’t plan to.

❝ it hurts me so much, but i can’t turn away ❞

YUNHO is a greedy man, and his greed comes from an insatiable hunger for your absolute attention. he is never truly satisfied, always craving to be entirely possessed by you so he can ground himself in the absolute certainty that he belongs to you. under normal circumstances, your boyfriend plays the role of the gentle giant — always teasingly dominant, using his size to playfully hoard your affection and keep you tucked against his chest.

but tonight, you completely flip the script. the moment he tries to crowd you, you slide a pair of heavy metal handcuffs around his soft wrists, pinning his arms high above his head and locking the steel securely to the bed’s headboard. the metallic click signals his total downfall, and the sudden realization that he is completely trapped beneath you makes him absolutely lose his mind.

he is massive, all broad shoulders and towering height, but emotionally, he is so deeply wrapped around your finger that it almost aches. the hurt in him is the exquisite tension of wanting you so badly it physically pains him. you climb into his lap, straddling his thighs so that his only option is to tilt his jaw back and look up at you, his eyes wide and completely captivated by the sight of his owner.

"you like to be in control, don't you, yunho?" you purr, your fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw before sliding down to wrap around his exposed throat. "how does it feel now? looking up at me while you're completely stuck?"

"it feels... shit, i don’t know," yunho rasps, a vibration against your palm. even with his freedom stripped away, he doesn't sound entirely broken; there is still a possessive gleam in his eyes, a stubbornness that lingers of his natural dominance that only makes his submission sweeter. "do whatever you want to me, doll."

commanding him to stay still, and he obeys instantly, locking his eyes on yours, refusing to look away from his owner. you leave a hot trail of wet kisses from his lips, down his neck, over his chest, and across his flat stomach, until you slide lower, unhooking his trousers and pulling them down to expose his cock. it immediately twitches against his stomach. you lick right over the sensitive tip, catching the sweet pre-cum on your tongue before spitting directly onto the head, rubbing the lubrication down his length with your palm. pumping him slowly, teasing him while he squirms, his massive thighs flexing as he tries to arch into your hand.

"i told you to stay still," you retort, leaning down between his legs.

you wrap your lips around his tip, taking him into your mouth. yunho’s hips immediately twitch upward out of instinct, but you dig your nails sharp into his thighs, pinning his legs down. you dive deeper, your throat tightly clamping around his thick girth as you slightly gag and choke on him. bopping your head up and down, putting on a filthy show until you feel him swell and pulse in your mouth.

just as you feel his lower abdomen tighten, his breathing turns into a series of breathless whines and heavy groans that signal his approaching climax, you suddenly stop. you pull completely off him with a wet pop, leaving him entirely denied at the very precipice of his orgasm. 

"ah, fuck– no, don't do me like that, dollface… please," yunho groans, and he sounds like a wreck. he isn't the type to beg pathetically, his pride still keeping his tone firm and demanding even while bound, but the frustration of the denial makes his entire body tremble. "don't do that to me… you know what i need, get on it."

"not yet, big boy," you whisper, wiping your lips as you shift your body back up his lap.

you align yourself over him, guiding his leaking tip against your soaking wet entrance before slamming your hips down rather roughly. you take him whole inside you in one stroke, the sudden action mixing an exquisite sting of pain with absolute pleasure. leaning your weight forward, placing your hands flat against his chest as you begin to bounce on him, setting a brutal pace that gives him no room to breathe. yunho stretches you to the absolute limit, and you enjoy looking down at him while he's handcuffed; he looks up at you like you are an angel with devil horns.

quicking the pace, your wet walls squeezing him tight, and the sight of the thick veins straining on his trapped hands sends you straight over the edge. you moan his name loudly, your cunt clamping down hard as you climax, and that crushing squeeze breaks his remaining restraint. 

yunho cums deep inside you, his hips bucking violently into yours in heavy, that it completely overfills you. the hot mess of your combined orgasms dripping onto the rumpled sheets beneath his locked frame. his voice is so incredibly raspy, soft, and impossibly deep as he pants beneath you, his chest heaving out of breath. "ah... fuck, doll... look at the mess you made.”

a lazy smirk tugs at the corner of his lips as he tilts his head to look down at your shaking body still draped over his lap.

"you couldn't even handle your own rules, could you?" so smug and cocky, his heavy hips giving you a twitch upward to remind you exactly who just filled you to the brim. "you took all my control away, but you're still the one left trembling, hm... how cute."

❝ it’s fine even if i’m hurt like this, without moving a muscle, i’m chained up ❞

YEOSANG is usually quiet, a man of a few words and reserved glances, but behind closed doors, he is absolutely starving for you to take over. gluttony is the only word to describe the insatiable hunger he has for your touch, voice, and sweet praise. you feed directly into his desperate need by rationing your affection, requiring a perfect execution of obedience before you give him a single drop of pleasure. your boyfriend has to obey, stay still, and serve you perfectly just to get a single taste of your lips, becoming utterly drunk on your authority.

playing into his doll-like beauty, you explicitly command him not to move, treating him like a beautiful puppet just so you can pull the strings. he stands in the middle of the bedroom, his eyes wide and completely captivated by you. you’ve already ripped open his shirt, leaving him bare from the waist up. his toned chest heaving as you gently restrain his hands behind his back with a soft satin cord. you look him dead in the eye and give your law: he cannot touch you, speak, or move a single muscle until you allow it. yeosang is so sweet, so eager to please that the mere thought of making you mad or disappointing you makes his stomach flip. the thrill for him is absolute obedience, completely chained by your words alone.

"you're doing so good for me, yeosangie," you whisper, dragging your fingers down his throat. "my pretty boy, staying so still."

"anything for you, angel," he breathes, his voice trembling as he breaks the rule of silence just to worship you. "i'm yours. please... tell me what to do."

when you finally permit him to move, he gladly bears the sweet torture of your restraint because the reward of your praise is his entire world.

eventually, the dynamic shifts to the mattress. you untie his wrists and shed the rest of your clothes, crawling onto the bed together. but the game isn't over; you set a new, high-stakes task. your hands are now resting flat on the sheets, as you tell him that he has to do all the work while you stay completely still. if he fails to extract an orgasm from you through his service alone, guess who will be chained up again?

the pressure drives him wild. yeosang is already beautifully marked up by you — his pale skin painted with purple hickeys, smudged red lipstick stains, and your sharp nails have already scratched his back raw, painting it red like it’s a bloody massacre. he deserves every single mark, especially with the way his thick cock is lovingly abusing your pussy, imprinting himself roughly into your walls as he returns the favor.

both of you are obsessed with missionary. there is something intensely kinky about doing it in the most vanilla position of all while being freaky as hell. it allows for constant and uninterrupted face-to-face contact, and you thrive on that power. it looks like yeosang is the one who should be in control, but your eyes remind him exactly who holds the leash.

he shifts his weight, his hands gripping your thigh to raise your left leg until your knee is level with your right shoulder, keeping your other leg pinned flat on the bed. the extreme angle opens you up completely, stretching you around his length as he drives deep inside you.

"you like this, baby?" he pants, sweat dripping from his jaw onto your chest as he thrusts into you, his eyes locked on yours. "look at how perfectly you take me. you're so tight around me, princess."

"shh… yeosang, stop talking so loud," you command softly, your eyes narrowing. "and keep your pace steady."

instantly, he bites his lower lip until it bleeds, completely silencing his voice, whimpering mutely into his own mouth as he obeys. if you told him to get off the bed and onto his knees right now, he would fall down and propose to you on the spot, since he is completely at your mercy.

but your tightness combined with the intensity of your gaze becomes too much for his sensitive body to handle. he tries to pull back and hold it in, however, with one devastating shove against your cervix, yeosang cums deep inside you without your permission. his cock is pulsing violently as he fills you to the brim with hot spurts of his seed. the room goes dead silent except for his ragged breathing. he stays buried inside you, his hands shaking against the mattress as he realizes what he just did.

you look up at him, a sly smirk spreading across your lips as you tap his chest. "did i tell you that you could cum inside me?"

yeosang’s eyes go completely wide, tears of pleasure and sudden panic swimming in them as he looks down at you like an angel who is about to punish him for a sin he didn’t mean to commit. "i-i'm sorry, angel... i couldn't hold it, you're felt too g-good, please–"

"well, then…” you whisper, reaching blindly under the pillow. "where did i put those handcuffs?"

© KISSSAN do not copy, repost or modify my work.