#82major

You’ve known Yechan since middle school, long enough for him to memorize the way your voice deepens when you get bored, or how you stare off into space when you're maladaptive daydreaming. You’re best friends. At least, that’s what you tell people when they ask why he’s always touching your waist or why you steal his hoodies like they’re yours.

But the truth is, friendship never really quite covered it.

There’s always been something simmering just under the surface. With glances that linger too long, late-night calls that stretch past the point of casual, touches that aren’t quite ‘friend-like.’ And for a while, that was enough for you.

But then came Keeho.

At first, he was just Yechan’s older brother; a presence in the background. Charming, loud, always joking but lately, he’s been different around you. His teasing has shifted, his eyes lingering just a little longer than they used to.

And it does something to you.

Because if Yechan is the epitome of comfort, safety and love then Keeho is the complete opposite. He is heat, pressure, lust and gravity.

You didn’t expect to be drawn to both but now you're standing at the edge of something you don’t fully understand. Wanting two people who are already too close, whose blood ties should make this impossible.

You weren’t planning to go. Parties were never the scene for your introverted self but Yechan had asked, all playful smiles and soft eyes, the way he always is when he wants something.

“It’ll be chill,” he promised. “Just come for me?”

So you did.

And for a while, it really is chill. You hang back, sipping on something too sweet, watching him move through the crowd, saying hi to everyone who came to his house. You stay in your little corner, hidden from everyone and turning down every man or woman who tries to hit on you. But it is getting a little boring, and Seokjoon always knows how to make things better. So when he leans in to whisper in your ear about something funny Dogyun did, you can't help but relax and fall into the rhythm of comfort. That is until you make eye contact with Yechan—who is now marching over looking…angry? 

No…jealous.

“Hey Seokjoon, can I borrow Y/N for a moment?” He yells over the loud music.

Seokjoon groans, “Oh come on man I was just getting to the good part, but fine take the pretty girl.”

Yechan pulls you into the hallway, away from the noise, his hand tight around your wrist. His eyes are darker now, and when he leans in, you stop breathing.

“You’ve been driving me insane,” he murmurs, and before you can ask what he means, his mouth is on yours.

Final-fucking-ly.

It’s nothing like you imagined. It’s better.

Hungry, desperate, like he’s been holding back for years and just broke. His hands grip your hips. You melt into it and he groans against your lips, pushing you back against the wall.

“You don’t even know what you do to me,” he says, kissing down your jaw. “Always looking at me like that… walking around like you’re not mine. And then teasing me by leaning into Seokjoon? I should have done this years ago.”

You’re dizzy with it, your hands in his hair, his mouth on your neck.

And then you see him. Across the room, standing near the kitchen.

Keeho.

His eyes are locked on yours and in his hand is a lowball glass which he slowly, deliberately clenches until it shatters. Glass shards hit the floor and blood beads at his knuckles but he doesn’t look away, he doesn't even flinch.

You freeze. Yechan doesn’t notice because he’s too lost in you, still pressing kisses to your collarbone but you can’t stop looking.

Keeho’s jaw is clenched and his stare is heavy. Something about the way he’s watching you makes your stomach twist; not with fear but with something much worse.

Want.

Yechan meets you at the door with a smile and a zip-up hoodie already in hand. “Knew you’d forget yours,” he teases, pulling you inside like always, like nothing’s changed.

Monthly sleepovers at each other's place is a must between you and Yechan. While you prefer his home due to the size of it and the cool layout of his room, he prefers your apartment which is more domestic and comforting. 

He leads you up the stairs, through the sleek, modern space, and into his world. Yechan’s room is the kind of place that makes you pause every time you walk in. Warm, moody lighting glows from low bedside lamps, casting soft halos against matte black walls. Large framed photographs hang with intentional symmetry, some abstract, some eerily cinematic, like stills from a noir film.

The bed dominates the space, it’s low, wide, draped in soft coffee-colored sheets and plush black pillows, the comforter rumpled like it’s always in use. The Michaelangelo plushie sits at the head of the bed, a gift you got him years ago. A thick fur-like rug spreads across the marble floor, sinking beneath your feet with every step. The staircase cuts diagonally through the room, leading to a mezzanine level above where more books, a second bed and bathroom, and personal touches are tucked away. There is a TV mounted on the wall in front of his bed.

Yechan flops onto the bed, patting the spot beside him. “You want snacks, or are you coming here first?”

You toss your bag to the floor and dive on top of him without hesitation, landing with a soft thud across his chest.

He groans dramatically at the full weight of you. “Ugh! Why are you built like a brick shithouse?”

You just grin. “Shut up, you love it.”

He retaliates immediately, hands finding your sides to tickle without mercy, and you shriek, squirming and laughing as you try to wiggle out of his grip.

“Yechan—stop—I swear to god!”

He finally relents, both of you breathless with laughter and you collapse beside him, head falling onto the pillow, still giggling. He turns to face you, smile softening, his hand coming up to gently fix a strand of hair that fell across your face.

“What do you wanna watch?” he asks, voice low now but still playful.

“Dune: Part Two,” you reply immediately.

He snorts. “Pfft. Nerd.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Hoe last time I sat through two back-to-back Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle movies, Tokyo Drift and White Chicks with you. You better sit yo ass down and watch some peak science fiction.”

Yechan breaks into a full grin, eyes crinkling. “Fine, fine. Get comfy.”

He grabs the remote and starts queuing up the movie, arm draping casually around your shoulder like muscle memory. You lean into him, cheek resting against the warm plane of his chest. His fingers trail lazily up and down your arm while the opening credits roll, slow and soothing. At some point, he shifts to press a kiss to the top of your head.

The movie plays on, but his attention flickers between the screen and you. At one point, you shift to lie fully against his chest, blanket wrapped around both of you now. His fingers trace little circles along your spine.

And when the movie comes to an end, you rise up and stretch your arms out like a cat. Yechan watches you from where he’s sprawled back against the pillows, one arm tucked under his head.

“You gon’ change or just lounge in jeans all night?” he asks, eyes flicking up to yours. “Not that I mind.”

You roll your eyes, heat rising to your cheeks. “I brought stuff to sleep in.”

“Mm-hmm. Wanna gimme a show?” His lips curve into a teasing grin.

“Timothy, you better get your stanky ass in the shower before I whoop you. Laying on your bed after working out—nasty ass.”

He cackles and grabs his towel, heading to the main bathroom for a shower.

You ignore the way his words make your stomach twist, grabbing your overnight clothes and disappearing into the second bathroom upstairs in the mezzanine.

You pull out the “sleepwear” you packed. Soft dark purple lingerie, sheer in the right places, lacy in the dangerous ones. After the heated kiss you two shared, you and Yechan didn’t shy away from getting closer, so you wanted to push the boundaries of intimacy. And tonight was the night.

Your fingers tremble just slightly as you slip into it, pulling the hoodie back on over the top and zipping it, it lands just above your knees due to Yechan’s love for oversize clothes. You look like you're comfortable, safe, homey. 

But under that hoodie, you’re bait.

You go back downstairs, put your jeans and shirt in your backpack and flop onto Yechan’s bed, lazily scrolling on tiktok and waiting for the water to stop running. And when it does, your plan begins.

You wait until you hear the clang of Yechan’s skin care hitting the stand and your hands go to the zipper. One tug, then another. The hoodie is completely unzipped but still hangs on your body. You’re just in the lingerie now, skin bare under the soft room light, your heart pounding harder than it should.

A soft click. You freeze and the door creaks open behind you. You whip around.

Keeho shuts the door softly—too softly. You spin on your heel, instinct kicking in, arms barely moving to cover yourself when you see him. One hand still on the knob, the other slips into his pocket. His gaze drops, slow and shameless, tracing every inch of your body in that sheer purple lace.

“Keeho—” you choke out, voice barely more than a breath.

His lips twitch. “Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“I—Yechan’s in the shower—he’s gonna be out soon,” you stammer, trying to break the heated tension.

Keeho steps in further, door clicking shut behind him. “Hmm.” His eyes lift to yours, dark and unreadable. “Figured I’d come say goodnight.”

You stare at him, frozen between instinct and indecision. “You can’t just come in here—”

“Why not?” he asks, quiet now. “It’s my brother’s room is it not?”

Your breath catches. You try to back up, but there’s nowhere to go, just the bed behind your knees and him in front of you, every step pulling the air from your lungs.

“I saw the way you kissed him,” Keeho says, stepping closer. “Saw the way you let him touch you like he owned you.”

You swallow hard. “He doesn’t—”

“No?” Keeho smirks, gaze flashing. “Then why do you look at me the same way?”

You gasp and that’s when he grabs you. His hand closes around your waist, pulling you against him. Your body reacts before your mind can, lips parting, heat blooming between your thighs.

“Keeho, stop, what are you doing—?”

His mouth finds your neck, hot, fast and hungry. “I don’t give a fuck if you’re his,” he murmurs against your skin. “Not when you want me too.”

You push at his chest, half-heartedly. “Yechan—he’ll—”

“Let him watch,” Keeho growls, backing you toward the bed. “Maybe then he’ll understand you’re not his alone.”

He sits on the edge and tugs you between his legs, hands sliding up your thighs. His fingers graze the hem of your lace panties, curling around your hips as he kisses down your stomach.

“You’re shaking,” he mutters, lips brushing the waistband. “That for me?”

You’re about to say something — anything — until a presence looms behind you, hot and heavy.

It’s Yechan. Towel slung low on his hips, his body still damp from the shower, jaw tight, eyes locked on yours. He doesn’t look surprised, he doesn't even look angry.

“…You gon tell me to leave now?”

Keeho glances behind you, grinning. “Didn’t think you’d mind.”

Yechan pulls you away from Keeho and turns you around to face him.

“I don’t,” he says softly. “Not if she wants both of us.”

“I—” you stammer.

Yechan closes the distance and brushes his fingers along your jaw. “You think I haven’t noticed the way you look at him?”

Keeho’s hands slide over your hips again from behind. “Why have one,” he murmurs, voice dark, possessive, “when you can have two?”

You’re trembling between them now about to say something but Yechan kisses you and Keeho takes your shoulder, biting softly down your neck. The hoodie hits the floor completely. You try to cover yourself under the heat of their eyes but Keeho stops you. 

He circles you and Yechan takes his place behind you.

“Don’t be shy now,” Keeho murmurs, eyes flicking down to the lacy set barely covering you. “You wore this for him, huh?” He glances at Yechan over your shoulder. “You didn’t tell me she was this eager.”

Yechan’s hands curl around your waist. His voice is calm, but there’s something hungry in it. “I was gonna take my time with her… but I think she wants to be ruined tonight.”

Keeho lets out a low chuckle, the sound rolling through you like smoke. “She definitely does.”

You shake your head, breathless. “I wasn’t expecting… I don’t—”

“You don’t what?” Keeho leans closer, brushing his lips against yours without touching. “Want us?”

Yechan's lips press to your shoulder, slow and warm. “You can say no. We’ll stop.”

But you don’t say no.

You can’t.

Because your body’s already betraying you — heat flooding your core, thighs pressing together.

Keeho steps in again, pulling your head towards him, mouth crashing onto yours this time. It’s all tongue and teeth, bruising and possessive. His hand cups your jaw, angling you just the way he wants. Yechan's mouth is on your neck now, leaving soft open-mouthed kisses as his hands trail down to your thighs. You’re shaking, overwhelmed, breathless and most importantly drenched.

“Shit,” Yechan whispers, slipping a hand beneath your panties. “You’re soaked already?”

Keeho chuckles. “Such a slut for us. And we haven’t even touched you properly yet.”

You whimper, head tilting back against Yechan’s shoulder. “Please…”

“Oh?” Keeho grins darkly. “Please what?”

You whine, words tangled in your throat.

Yechan bites gently at your earlobe. “Don’t play dumb, baby. You wore that little set for me, but you wanted him to see it too, didn’t you?”

Your silence is the answer.

Keeho drops to his knees in front of you, dragging your panties down in one fluid motion. His mouth is on you, tongue lapping up your arousal, taking in every drop. He groans like he’s starved for it, eating you out like you’re his favorite thing in the world. You cry out, hips jerking backwards, but Yechan’s arms wrap around you from behind, holding you still.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he breathes. “Not until you cum all over his face.”

Keeho smirks up at you, licking a stripe through your folds, sharp nose brushing your clit. “Come on, princess. Let go for me.”

It doesn’t take long. Your legs are shaking, hands grasping at Yechan’s arms, head thrown back into his shoulder as your orgasm crashes through you like a wave.

But they don’t stop.

Keeho groans against you, tongue flicking faster now, and Yechan’s hand slides up your body to cup your breast through the lacey material.

Yechan just smirks from behind you, keeping you pinned against his chest, his towel dropped and you can feel his length pressing into your back. He’s letting Keeho go first this time, watching, waiting, palming himself slowly.

“She’s sensitive,” Yechan murmurs.

Keeho glances up from between your thighs, his mouth slick. “Good.” He thrusts two fingers inside you without warning and you cry out, body arching.

Yechan chuckles against your skin. “She looks so fucked out already… look at her.”

But his hands don’t stop moving, his fingers dipping between your legs, spreading you out to see how his brother is ruining you—his best friend.

Keeho watches too, licking his lips. “Fuckk look at that.”

Yechan unhooks your bra from behind and throws it to some random corner of his room, before teasing your sensitive nipples, rolling them between his thumb and forefinger. “You like being used by us, don’t you, baby?”

You nod because it’s true, and you can’t hide it anymore.

“She can’t even talk,” Keeho says, grinning. “Oh, you don’t wanna work for it, huh?” His fingers curl just right and your back arches off Yechan’s chest. “You’re a lil pillow princess, aren’t you?”

Yechan grabs your chin, forcing your dazed gaze to meet his. “What do you say, Keeho? Should we give our princess what she needs?”

He pulls his fingers out and sucks them clean with a groan. “She’s not getting a choice after teasing us with her little stunt.”

Keeho flips you over before you can protest; face down, ass up, barely breathing between gasps. You feel his hand on your back, holding you in place.

“You’re gonna take both of us tonight,” Keeho murmurs. “You’re gonna beg for it.”

Yechan is kneeling in front of you on the massive bed, he brushes your hair back gently, voice soft but commanding nonetheless. “Look at me. He’s right, Y/N. Beg.”

You meet his eyes, glassy and wrecked. “Please, Yechan… Keeho… fuck me. I’ll be good, I’ll do anything, just—please—”

Keeho slams into you in one hard stroke, the stretch makes your eyes roll back in ecstasy, he’s so fucking thick and he’s in you so deep.

“Feel that?” he growls into your ear. “That’s what you do to me. All this time I’ve wanted to wreck this sweet pussy.”

Yechan strokes himself in front of your face. “You gonna suck me off like a good girl while my brother fucks you?”

Your eyes flutter and you nod.

“Words,” Yechan says, thumb brushing your lower lip.

“Yes. Please.”

He smiles. “There’s my pretty thing.”

You open your mouth for him, and Yechan groans when you wrap your lips around his tip. Keeho thrusts deep at the same time, and the mix of fullness and heat is almost too much. 

Yechan slides in, groaning when you gag around him. His hands cradle your face as he rocks into your throat, slow but firm. “Good girl… just like that… fuck, who knew my timid little friend could do this.”

“You like this, baby?” Keeho snarls. “Like being passed between brothers like a perfect little toy?”

You whimper around Yechan’s cock.

“Let her answer,” he says. “She needs to say it.”

He pulls out from your mouth. “I love it,” you gasp. “I love it—I want both of you—don’t stop—please don’t stop—”

Keeho grips your hips tighter, snapping into you harder, faster, the sound of skin on skin obscene in the room. You’re shaking again, tears streaming down your cheeks from how full and how overwhelmed you are.

And they love it.

Keeho groans behind you and reaches down, circling your clit. “That’s it. That’s our girl.”

“Cum for us, baby,” Yechan says, stroking your cheek.

And you do. Harder than before. Loud, sobbing, body convulsing between them as waves of pleasure rip through you. Keeho follows with a growl, spilling inside you with a brutal thrust. Yechan doesn’t even wait — he grabs your face, shoves his cock back between your lips, and finishes in your mouth with a broken moan, his release coating your tongue.

Yechan pulls out from your mouth, panting, eyes dark. “Switch.”

Keeho smirks. “She can barely move.”

“I was nice enough to let her have you first, she's my best friend Keeho, remember that.”

Your eyes flutter open. You nod, barely conscious, but completely needy. “Yechan please, I need you, I've been needing you.”

Yechan doesn't waste a second and moves Keeho away from between your legs and flips you over so that you're face-to-face with him.

“I wanna see my pretty girl’s face when fuck her.” He says, while pushing your knees up to your chest. He looks at your fucked out pussy and nearly busts at the sight of yours and his brothers cum seeping out.

Keeho kneels next to you, already hard, already leaking. “God, just fuck her already, she’s writhing for you.”

Yechan laughs and presses a thumb against your clit and you arch, fists clenching into his sheets. “She’s been writing for me for years, what's just a couple minutes more.”

“Yoon Timothy Yechan, I swear on all the damn gods out there if you dont fuck me right now I will strangle you with the Michaelangelo plushie behind me.”

Yechan laughs before grabbing your outer thighs, lining himself up. And then he’s pushing into you and your body arches like it’s been starved for him. He doesn’t rush it, he doesn't thrust hard. He sinks into you, like he wants you to feel every inch, memorize every second.

“You feel that?” he whispers. “That’s me. Only me.”

You nod frantically. “Yechan—fuck—”

He starts to move, hips rolling into you with love, every stroke slow and deep and devastating. His hand finds yours and threads your fingers together, pressing them into the mattress beside your head.

“You’re everything to me,” he breathes.  “Always have been. Ever since we were kids.”

Your eyes flutter open, wide and watery. “Me too. Yechan, I—”

He kisses you before you can say it. Mouth hot, a little desperate, he’s trying to pour everything into you in one breath. His thrusts get rougher then, less patient.

Keeho is still watching silently. Eyes locked on where your bodies are joined. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t interrupt, he just strokes himself with slow, lazy precision, he’s content watching you unravel.

Yechan grips your thigh, pushing it up so he can get even deeper. “Fuck, baby. You take me so well.”

You nod, sobbing out moans. “Yes, Yechan please, dont fucking stop~”

“You want to cum?”

“Please!”

“Then cum. Let Keeho see how pretty you are when you break for me.”

The moment his thumb brushes your clit, you shatter.

Your body convulses beneath him, back arching off the bed as your climax bursts through you with enough force to leave you crying. Your fingers claw at the sheets, his shoulders, his back, your lips trembling as you whimper his name over and over again.

Yechan groans, losing rhythm. “Fuckk you’re milking me baby.”

He slams into you one last time and buries himself deep, spilling inside you with a broken moan, his name on your lips and love in every gasp. When he finally stills, his forehead drops to your shoulder. You lie there, both of you panting, trembling in each other’s arms.

Keeho exhales a quiet, “Shit,” from next to you. His hand is covered in his seed, the sight of you being fucked by his brother was enough to get him off, and you looked so pretty doing it too.

Yechan pulls out slowly, and you whimper from the oversensitivity. He immediately presses a kiss to your hip, to your stomach, to your chest, soothing you.

You don’t even know how long you lie there afterward. Your body is trembling, glowing, spent. Your skin still sings from every kiss, every bite, every place their hands held you down, held you close.

Yechan’s bed is a mess; tangled sheets, kicked pillows. One of your thighs is still twitching involuntarily as your breathing finally begins to steady. You're lying between them, chest rising and falling, your cheek pressed against the lean stretch of Yechan’s shoulder, one hand tangled loosely with his under the covers.

Keeho’s fingers are softly combing through your hair from behind, slow and rhythmic, as if he's lulling you back to earth. His touch is nothing like how he was just moments ago. Now, he’s quiet, gentle, and focused on you.

“You okay?” he asks, voice low.

You nod, looking back at him. He offers a soft smile. “Good.”

Yechan shifts beside you, pulling the blanket up higher over your bare chest. He presses a kiss to your temple, his hand resting protectively on your waist. “You’re amazing, you know that?” he murmurs, it’s the easiest truth he’s ever said.

You hum, flushed and wordless, still floating in the afterglow.

Keeho lets out a breath of a laugh, brushing a knuckle along your cheek. "I think we broke her.”

Yechan chuckles. “You’re one to talk, you broke before she did. You were already losing your mind watching her in my hoodie before we even touched her.”

“You’re lucky I didn’t take her right then,” Keeho mutters, but he’s smiling, tender despite the bite in his words. He leans in and kisses your shoulder gently, letting his lips linger. “Did so good for us, baby.”

Your body curls instinctively into the praise. Yechan reaches for the water bottle on the nightstand and offers it to you, helping you sit up just enough to drink. You blink at him, grateful, and he tucks a damp curl of hair behind your ear.

“We’ll clean you up in a minute,” he says. “Just rest for now.”

Keeho leans against the headboard, one arm draped lazily around your shoulders, and pulls you gently against his broad chest this time. His fingers find your waist, rubbing slow circles trying to memorize you in this softness.

“You’re ours now,” he says casually, like it’s a foregone conclusion. Like it’s always been this way.

You glance between the two of them. Yechan smiled like he’s known it forever. Keeho watches you with that hungry softness.

And maybe it’s the exhaustion, or the heat, or the comfort of their arms around you, but you don’t feel torn anymore.

You don’t have to figure out which one you like because they both claimed you.

And come on seriously, why have one when you can have two?

𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: uhh yeah....my smut era goes crazy

GET 82Major OUT OF NUGUDOM PLSSSSS

yechan's insta post? he's wearing a damn cowboy hat..... *texan author is currently screeching*

bro 82Major was 20min away from me on the 12th for the houston stop, i was crashing out cuz i couldn't go