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ᯓ★ Masterlist

[🪽] - fluff

[❤️‍🩹] - angst

[💥] - smut 👅

male reader

zb1

Rivals, Right? (gunwook) [🪽]

Open. (jiwoong) [❤️‍🩹🪽]

This Night, You're Mine (jiwoong) [💥]

Love, Eventually (ppusamz) [❤️‍🩹🪽]

Against The Lockers (matthew) [💥]

Hand in Hand (hanbin) [🪽]

Study Break (hanbin) [💥]

You, In Every Line (hanbin) [🪽]

Jellyous ! (gyuvin) [🪽]

I Was Never Joking (shimkongz) [🪽]

Obey Me, Baby (taerae) [💥]

Good Boy (zhang hao) [💥]

Only You Get This Side Of Me (zhang hao) [💥]

nct

jaehyun headcanons [💥]

Caught Between Them (jaehyun) [💥]

nct wish

You Were More Than A Muse (sion) [🪽]

The Boy Who Confessed (the first) (jaehee) [🪽]

Caught Between Them (sion) [💥]

enha

Saint. (jay) [🪽]

After School Hours (jay) [💥]

Get In Line (jake) [🪽]

Backseat Burn (jake) [💥]

Don't Come Looking (heejake) [❤️‍🩹]

Something More (niki) [❤️‍🩹🪽]

Play Me Again (sunghoon) [🪽💥]

kickflip

ateez

Only You (san) [💥]

part one 🖤 part two 🤍

bnd

evnne

If You Knew (jeonghyeon) [❤️‍🩹🪽]

txt

tws

Secrets (jihoon) [🪽]

dohoon headcanons [🪽]

female reader

illit

Matching Soles, Matching Souls (minju) [🪽]

Almost Yours, Always Hers (yunah) [🪽]

loona

Pretty (heejin) [💥]

just req to add more groups!!!

@jaimedanseravectoi is my nonkpop blog!!

Heeseung’s lips were bruised again.

This time by some faceless girl in a backless dress, her perfume clinging to his neck like the memory of someone who wasn’t you. He had her pressed against the bar counter, fingers curled into her hair like she mattered—like you never did.

And you?

You stood there.

Watching. Crumbling quietly behind a drink that had long lost its chill, pretending your heart hadn’t just shattered into something too sharp to hold.

It wasn’t the first time. But it would be the last.

“Don’t do this to yourself,” Jake had said last week, voice low, careful, like he was trying not to fall apart with you. “You deserve better.”

You should’ve listened.

But you loved him. Or maybe you just loved the version of him that looked at you like you were his favorite song before the silence. That version hadn’t shown up in weeks.

So when Heeseung looked up—lips smeared, eyes foggy—and saw you standing there, he blinked like he forgot you existed.

“Where are you going?” he called after you, stumbling a step.

“Home,” you said.

Your voice didn’t shake, but everything else did.

“Wait, Y/N—” But he didn’t move. Didn’t follow.

He never did.

Jake opened his apartment door in a hoodie, hair tousled like he’d been asleep.

And then he saw your face.

“Y/N—”

You didn’t speak. You collapsed into his chest like a prayer, and he held you like he’d been waiting to. His hands were steady. His silence louder than any scream you wanted to let out.

That night, he let you cry into his sweater. No questions. No pressure.

Just warmth.

Just Jake.

The next morning, sunlight spilled across café tables and fingers curled around shared mugs. Jake reached across to swipe whipped cream from your nose and grinned.

You snapped a photo—his hand, the coffee, the peace—and posted it to your story.

Heeseung saw it.

And for once, he looked like he felt something.

Jealousy? Regret? You didn’t care.

Not anymore.

Rain tasted like ash on your tongue when you stood at the edge of that broken bridge.

The river below was shallow and angry. Jagged rocks waiting like teeth. The sky cried harder than you could.

You took out your phone. Typed. Shook.

[Group Chat: You, Jake, Heeseung]

i’m sorry. i can’t do this anymore. please don’t come looking.

You dropped the phone.

It shattered on the wood like your will to stay.

“Y/N!”

A voice behind you.

Heeseung. Soaking wet. Pale. Eyes wide like he finally saw you.

“What are you—no. Don’t. Don’t do this.”

You turned to him slowly, wind clawing at your soaked clothes.

“You don’t get to stop me, Heeseung,” you whispered. “Not when you never chose me.”

He stepped forward. Then stopped. Like his feet were rooted in guilt and his lungs were full of everything he never said.

You waited for him to move.

He didn’t.

But Jake did.

“Y/N!”

His voice split the rain.

You barely saw him before his arms wrapped around your waist, dragging you away from the edge, holding you like the world was ending.

“I love you,” Jake gasped, forehead pressed to your shoulder, voice trembling. “I know I’m not the one you want, but please… let me be the one who stays.”

You broke.

Your knees buckled, your sobs cracked the sky open wider, and Jake held you through all of it.

Heeseung watched. Frozen. Soaked. Silent.

And this time, when you reached out—

Yunah’s been ignoring you all morning.

No “good morning, baby” at the shoe lockers. No shoulder bumps between hallways. Not even a shared snack.

It’s weird. Not the funny kind of weird—like when she wears mismatched socks or doodles on her math test—but tense weird. Cold. Like she’s holding her breath every time she looks at you and can’t decide whether to exhale or scream.

You don’t get it. Yesterday was fine. She was teasing you about your handwriting, poking your cheek with her pen like always. Now?

Now she’s quiet. Avoidant. And texting someone else during class.

You hate it.

It gets worse at lunch.

You’re talking with some girl from your art elective—just a casual chat, nothing serious. She compliments your earrings. Laughs too hard at your joke. Then—hand on your arm. Just for a second. Playful.

But Yunah sees it.

And that’s all it takes.

Her tray slams onto the table beside you, hard enough that water splashes onto her sleeve. You flinch. She doesn’t even look at you.

The other girl says something like “Oops, rough day?” with a little giggle. Yunah stares at her, deadpan.

“No. I’m just not a fan of people touching what doesn’t belong to them.”

You choke on your rice.

“Yunah—” you start, but she’s already picking up her chopsticks, stabbing into her food like it insulted her ancestors.

After school, she doesn’t wait for you.

You find her at the bike racks, earphones in, arms crossed. The wind’s cold. Your hands are shaking a little—but not from the weather.

“You’re mad at me,” you say, stepping in front of her. “Why?”

Yunah doesn’t look at you.

You reach for her wrist, but she pulls it away.

“Don’t,” she mutters. “Not if you’re gonna let other people touch you like that too.”

“What?” Your heart stutters. “She was just being friendly—”

“I’m not friendly like that,” she cuts in. Her voice is sharp. Her lip trembles. “You think I buy you peach soda for fun? That I stay up every night editing your stupid study playlist because I’m just so nice?” She finally meets your gaze. Her eyes are glassy, burning. “God, you’re so—so clueless. I’ve been yours for months, and you’re out here laughing like she makes you feel the way I do.”

Silence.

You swallow hard. “She doesn’t.”

Yunah exhales shakily. She looks away.

“I was scared,” she says, voice small now. “You’re my best friend. If I said it out loud, I’d lose you.” A pause. “But watching someone else try to take you anyway? That’s worse.”

You step forward. You don’t touch her yet—you wait. Wait for her to lean in, and when she does, you thread your fingers with hers. Warm. Shaky.

“I’ve been yours too,” you say. “This whole time.”

She looks at you again. Blinks once. Twice.

“…Yeah?” she whispers.

You nod.

And then—she finally smiles.

It’s not big. Not the bubbly Yunah you always see. It’s smaller. Softer. A little broken, a little real.

She leans in and kisses your cheek.

“I’m still mad,” she mumbles, “but I’ll forgive you if you walk me home and buy me tteokbokki.”

you knew it was gonna happen eventually.

the way matthew stared after games. the way he brushed against you in the showers, towel too low on his hips, cock barely hidden and bouncing with every step. the way his fingers lingered too long when he handed you a water bottle—smiling, mouth dripping sweat, skin hot to the touch.

you just didn’t expect it to happen here.

not like this.

not with your chest shoved against a locker, breath fogging the cold metal, his hips grinding up behind you with his cock already out, leaking, hard, rubbing between your cheeks.

"fuck, you're tight," he groans, one hand gripping your waist so hard you’ll feel it for days. "you wanted this, didn’t you?"

you whine something in response—too far gone to form words—and he laughs low in your ear. the sound rumbles through your spine like thunder.

he spits once. thick. messy. lets it drip down between your cheeks before rubbing it in with the head of his cock.

"gonna go slow," he mutters, more to himself than to you, voice rough with restraint. "but you gotta relax for me, yeah?"

you try. you try so hard, but the second his cock starts pressing in, your whole body tenses. the stretch burns. he's big—too big for something so sudden—but your hips roll back anyway, greedy, desperate.

"fuck—just like that, baby."

his fingers bruise into your hips as he sinks in, inch by inch. you gasp, knuckles going white against the locker door, thighs shaking with effort.

"god, you're tight," matthew moans again, this time more wrecked. “you’re taking me so well.”

when he bottoms out, you can’t breathe. full. stuffed. ruined already.

he doesn’t move for a second. just leans over you, mouth hot against your nape, whispering filth into your skin.

"you look so good like this. bent over. letting me use you."

then he pulls out halfway—and slams back in.

you scream.

his rhythm starts slow but deep, dragging every inch of himself out before slamming back in with a force that rocks the lockers around you. the sound of skin slapping echoes through the empty room. obscene. wet. relentless.

you bite your forearm to keep from moaning too loud. it doesn’t help.

"why are you so fucking tight—" he growls, thrusting harder, faster now, fingers snaking under your shirt to grip your waist, digging in as he pounds into you like he’s been waiting forever to snap.

he shifts angle and hits your spot dead-on.

your legs give out.

"there it is," he grins, voice shaking. "right fucking there."

he hits it again. and again. every thrust now knocking stars into your vision.

you’re not even touching yourself, but you’re close—so close you can feel the knot coiling tight in your stomach, your body twitching with every slap of his hips.

"you gonna cum for me?" matthew pants, breath ragged, sweat dripping onto your back. "wanna feel you squeeze my cock while i fuck you full—"

your orgasm slams into you like a wave.

you cry out, cumming untouched, ropes of it hitting the locker door as your body clenches around him so tight he shouts.

he barely holds it together.

"shit—fuck—baby, i’m—"

he thrusts once. twice.

then grabs you by the waist and slams in deep as he cums, cock twitching inside you, hot and thick, buried to the hilt while his moans break apart in your ear.

you both stay like that—panting, shaking, his cum dripping down your thighs, his chest pressed to your back as he breathes you in.

finally, he speaks.

You don’t realize you’re trembling until Heejin’s thumb finds your jaw.

“You’re shaking,” she murmurs, low, like silk trailing down the curve of your spine. “Is it because of me?”

You nod, barely. Too warm. Too bare. Too aware of every inch of her skin brushing yours as she presses you gently back into the mattress, the sheets soft and hotel-sterile beneath you—so unlike the heat blooming between your thighs.

She kisses you like she owns the moment. Slow, syrupy, coaxing. Her thigh slots between yours as her lips part yours, tongue gentle but insistent. You whimper into her mouth, hands fisting the sheets instead of touching her—because you’re shy and she knows it. Loves it. Loves the way you flinch just a little when she sucks on your bottom lip like it’s a promise.

"You're already soaked," she whispers as she breaks the kiss, her voice the kind that doesn’t need to rise above a murmur to command. “I haven’t even started yet, sweetheart.”

Her fingers trail down your body like she’s painting a map—collarbones, ribs, hips. She touches you like you’ll vanish if she moves too fast, but there's hunger behind her patience. A slow-burning need that tightens her jaw every time your breath hitches.

Then: skin on skin.

Her thigh shifts, and suddenly you feel her—wet, hot, flushed—pressing in. Your folds meet hers like petals unfolding into each other. Slick, swollen, perfectly aligned. You gasp. She smirks.

“Shh,” she whispers. “Feel it.”

She grinds down once—slow, deliberate—and your whole body jolts. The friction is soft at first. A teasing drag of wetness on wetness, clit to clit, hips rolling in a rhythm that makes your legs twitch. She’s watching your face the whole time, eyes low-lidded, lips parted just enough to make you stare.

The second roll of her hips drags a moan out of your throat before you can stop it.

“That’s it,” she breathes, her tone velvet-wrapped steel. “Let me hear you.”

You do. Helplessly. Every movement of her hips is a revelation—grinding deeper, slicker, until your clits catch just right, again and again. The sound of your bodies meeting—wet, rhythmic, raw—is obscene. Beautiful. Intimate in a way that borders on sacred.

Her hand finds yours and laces your fingers together, anchoring you as she moves faster. Her thigh trembles against yours. Her breath stutters. You can feel the heat building, the edge curling in, and she knows. God, she knows.

“Look at me when you come,” she whispers, barely holding herself together, “I want to see what you look like when I make you fall apart.”

You do. You meet her gaze as your orgasm shudders through you—sharp, wet, all-consuming. It rolls out of you like a prayer, your hips bucking, your thighs clenching around hers as your body sings. And still, she keeps moving.

"God—Heejin—" you choke.

She grinds down one last time, hard and aching and perfect—and then she falls with you. Her back arches. Her lips part in a breathless moan that she bites down before it can fully escape. Her slick pulses against yours, warm and sticky and close.

When it’s over, she doesn’t pull away. She just melts into you, bodies still pressed together, cunt to cunt, heat to heat.

“You did so well for me,” she murmurs into your shoulder. “My pretty girl.”

You nod, dizzy, ruined, glowing.

And when her hips twitch again against yours, slow and greedy—

You never meant to get caught between them.

Not Jaehyun with his slow, possessive touches and velvet voice. Not Sion with that puppy-eyed obsession and the way his control snapped the moment you so much as whimpered.

But now you were here—on your hands and knees, body stretched and aching between two men who touched you like you were made for them.

Jaehyun sat in front of you on the bed, his thighs spread wide, cock heavy in his hand as he guided it toward your lips. His other hand cradled your jaw, thumb rubbing soothingly over your cheek. Behind you, Sion was already buried inside—his hips flush against your ass, his breath ragged and uneven as he fought the urge to pound into you.

“That’s it,” Jaehyun murmured, easing his tip past your lips. “Good boy. Look at you, baby... drooling already.”

You moaned helplessly, the vibration of your throat making Jaehyun hiss. Your body jolted slightly as Sion rolled his hips forward again, deeper this time, his fingers bruising your waist.

“H-Hyung,” Sion whined. “He’s so tight. He keeps sucking me back in like he doesn’t want me to stop.”

Jaehyun let out a soft chuckle, cool and dark. “He doesn’t. He loves being full. Don’t you, baby?”

You tried to nod, tried to answer, but Jaehyun pressed in deeper, and your throat fluttered around him, gagging just a little as you adjusted.

“Shh,” he cooed, brushing back your sweat-damp hair. “Breathe through your nose. That’s it. Such a pretty mouth.”

Behind you, Sion started to move. He was rougher now, less patient. He gripped your hips like he was afraid you’d slip away, like he needed to carve himself into your body to prove something.

“I wanted to wait,” he gasped. “But you make me crazy, hyung. I can’t hold back.”

The stretch was overwhelming—Jaehyun in your throat, Sion buried in your ass, both of them moving now, slowly, deliberately, fucking into you from either end. You were dizzy, tears clinging to your lashes as your body trembled from the heat of them.

“You're doing so well,” Jaehyun praised. “Taking us both like this. You were made to be fucked, weren’t you, sweetheart?”

Sion moaned behind you, thrusting harder. “He keeps clenching. Hyung, he’s gonna make me cum—”

Jaehyun pulled back slightly, letting you gasp. “Don’t you dare cum yet.”

“I-I can’t help it!”

“Then edge yourself,” Jaehyun ordered, voice sharp. “He deserves to be ruined properly. We’re not done until he cries.”

You whined loudly at that, because you were already close. Every brush of Jaehyun’s cock on your tongue, every brutal roll of Sion’s hips made your mind fuzzier. Your cock hung untouched and leaking, the pressure unbearable.

Jaehyun grabbed your face, pressing your cheeks together as he stared down at you. “You love this, don’t you?” he growled. “You love being our toy.”

Sion leaned over your back, panting against your ear. “Say it. Say you want us to break you.”

“I-I want it,” you sobbed, “Please, please fuck me stupid, I can’t—I need you both—please!”

That broke them.

Jaehyun shoved himself deeper into your mouth, hips moving now, controlled but rough. Sion’s rhythm turned feral, hips slamming against your ass, the sound of skin on skin filling the room with wet, filthy echoes.

You felt yourself unraveling.

Jaehyun spilled down your throat first, groaning, voice strained. He held you there, made you swallow every drop.

Sion wasn’t far behind. With a strangled moan, he buried himself one last time and came hard, shaking, filling you so deep you could feel it drip.

You collapsed onto the sheets, boneless, ruined.

But they didn’t leave you.

Sion curled around your back, gently kissing your shoulder. Jaehyun wiped your mouth clean with a warm towel, his fingers soft now as he stroked your hair.

“You were perfect,” Jaehyun whispered. “So good for us.”

“I love you, hyung,” Sion mumbled sleepily, arms wrapping around you like he couldn’t stand the idea of letting go.

But just when you thought you could rest, Jaehyun leaned back against the headboard, cock already hard again, a dangerous glint in his eye.

“Go ride him,” he said to you, voice low. “Ride Sion for me. Let me watch you fall apart.”

You blinked at him, dazed, and Sion gently eased you into his lap. He was still hard, still needy, and he helped you guide his cock back inside your overstretched hole. The burn made you gasp, but the fullness—the pressure—made your head spin.

Jaehyun sat back, lazily stroking himself with practiced rhythm, his eyes never leaving you.

“Look at you,” he whispered, thumb dragging over his slit. “Already cockdrunk and still wanting more.”

You began to move, hips slow and shaky at first as you adjusted. Your thighs trembled as you rose and dropped back down, Sion groaning under you, his hands gripping your hips like he might fall apart.

“That’s it,” Jaehyun murmured, voice reverent. “Bounce for me. Fuck yourself open on him. You look so pretty when you ride.”

Your moans grew louder, the stretch overwhelming but addicting. Each bounce sent sparks through your core, the wet squelch of your hole swallowing Sion echoing between the gasps and curses.

Sion tried to thrust up into you, but Jaehyun raised a hand.

“No. Let him do the work. I want to see him beg for it.”

So Sion stayed still, trembling as you ground down on him, twisting your hips, milking him slowly.

Jaehyun’s eyes were heavy-lidded, mouth parted as he stroked himself faster, pre-cum pooling in his palm.

“Keep going,” he urged. “I’m close. Fuck—you’re better than any porn I’ve ever seen.”

You whimpered, thighs shaking, as your body clenched tight again. You were close. So close.

“Cum,” Jaehyun ordered, voice firm, possessive. “Show me what it looks like when Sion fucks the cum out of you.”

Your back arched, vision white. You cried out as you came untouched, body convulsing from the force of it. Sion finally broke, hips snapping up once, twice, before he groaned and spilled inside you for the second time.

Jaehyun came last, with a low moan and a shudder, thick ropes of white spilling across his abs, his gaze never leaving your ruined form.

You collapsed against Sion’s chest, heart racing, breath gone.

And Jaehyun’s voice was soft now. “Next time, you’re riding me. And he’ll watch you scream.”