No Strings, All Skin- Friends with Benefits
Summary: Itâs not just about bodies. Itâs about trust. Firsts. And the kind of closeness that changes everything.
Content Warnings (18+): Explicit sexual content (anal penetration), first-time same-sex experiences, anal play (preparation and penetration), fingering (including preparation and stimulation), power dynamics (dominance and submission), teasing and control, light pain elements (stretching, intensity), emotional vulnerability during intimacy, exploration of sexuality, multiple partners within the same space, voyeuristic elements (observing/listening without direct participation), aftercare, emotional bonding, and strong focus on trust, first-time experiences, and intimacy within a close-knit group dynamic.
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A/N: Hey so I forgot this series was a thing lol...I am also cross posting To The Bone on AO3 (hence, why the updates are slow). I will start updating To The Bone here whenever it catches up on AO3. Taglist and Requests are open by the way. Enjoy! And..........REBLOG!
That night, after a campfire singalong devolved into Jisung beatboxing over Seungmin's acoustic guitar while Hyunjin made up interpretive dance routines in the dark, you all collapsed in one giant pile of limbs in the living room.
No schedules. No script. No lights. Just people.
"We should do this more often," you murmured.
Minho yawned. "Promise we will."
And someone; maybe Chan, maybe you, whispered the quiet truth:
"This is what forever feels like."
After a long night of laughter, lakeside lounging, and getting charcoal on everyone's faces while trying to light the grill, the night began to get too dark and low, casting white streaks across the cabin floor. Inside, the living room looked like a warzone of blankets, snack wrappers, and shoes kicked off in all directions.
Felix was curled up under three different throws, Chan was attempting (and failing) to organize the snack table, and Jisung was whispering something to Minho that made the older boy roll his eyes and swat him with a rolled-up paper towel.
Someone had the idea to divvy up sleeping arrangements.
"Okay, three per room," Chan called out. "We can rotate tomorrow if people hate their roommates."
"Or if someone snores like a dying engine," Seungmin added.
Jisung smirked. "Minho and I share. Weâve done worse."
You snorted. "Yeah, like each other."
Minho just smirked smugly and patted Jisungâs thigh. "What can I say? Heâs persistent."
"Theyâre DEFINITELY getting married," you muttered, walking past to grab a hoodie.
Hyunjin grinned from the couch. "You say that like we donât all fuck."
You blinked. "Wait, all of you?"
"Not all," Jeongin chimed in from the floor. "Some arenât that open to it. But most of us... yeah."
Jisung, suddenly interested in the ceiling, hid his face behind a pillow.
Eventually, everyone started calling dibs.
"Iâm with Minho and Jisung," Chan announced, earning an immediate groan from Jisung. "Youâll survive."
"Hyunjin, Felix, and Changbin ?" Seungmin offered.
"Guess that leaves me, Jeongin, and you," he added, pointing at you.
"Perfect," you said, grabbing your bag. "As long as Iâm not stuck with Chanâs 3 a.m. alarm and workout playlist."
The boys groaned in collective agreement.
You wandered into your assigned room to find both Jeongin and Seungmin already unpacking. It was a cozy space, low lighting from a side lamp, and one big bed. A couch lined the far wall but clearly wasnât made for sleeping.
The vibe had shifted. Something quieter. Thick.
"You guys okay?" you asked.
Jeongin looked up. Seungmin paused halfway through pulling on a hoodie.
"So," Jeongin began. "Seungmin wants to try something."
Your brow rose. "What kind of something?"
Seungmin exhaled slowly. "Sleeping with a guy. With Jeongin."
Your eyebrows shot up, but you kept your tone casual. "Okay... and?"
"Neither of us has done that before," Jeongin added, voice quieter. "With a guy, I mean. Weâve both been with girls, but... weâve talked, and... we trust each other."
You smiled gently. "So whatâs the problem?"
"Itâs a first," Seungmin said. "And we didnât want to make you uncomfortable."
You waved a hand. "Please. Donât mind me. If anything, Iâll sleep like the dead. You do your thing." But they both knew you were gonna watch, as if itâs a kids cartoon show.
There was a beat of silence. Then Jeongin grinned. "Youâre the best."
You flopped on the edge of the bed. "Obviously. Now figure out your positionsâŚsleeping positions, and donât steal the covers."
They laughed, the tension breaking. Outside, someone started playing music again, soft acoustic strumming echoing through the walls.
Inside your little room, the night was just beginning. The room settles into a hush after the laughter fades. The kind of quiet that makes the walls feel closer, the air heavier. The soft strum of guitar still floats faintly through the cabin, muffled by distance and wood, but it doesnât reach the center of this space.
Here, itâs just the three of you.
Jeongin stands near the bed, chewing the inside of his cheek. Seungmin sits, legs crossed on the comforter, hoodie bunched up at his elbows, fingers twitching against the hem like he canât decide what to do with them.
You stay still. Quiet.
You meant what you said. This was their moment, and you werenât about to ruin it.
Jeongin breaks the silence first. "Okay⌠so, I guess we justâŚstart?"
Seungmin huffs a small laugh. âNot a science experiment, Innie.â
âNo, yeah, I know,â Jeongin mutters, rubbing the back of his neck. âI just⌠I donât wanna mess it up.â
"You wonât," Seungmin says softly. And thatâŚthatâs what makes Jeongin finally move.
He steps closer. Crawls onto the bed with slow, deliberate ease, careful like heâs handling something fragile. Like heâs not sure where to put his knees or how close heâs allowed to get. You watch from your side of the mattress, head half-buried in the pillow, pretending to scroll on your phone, even though your screenâs been black for five minutes.
Then Jeongin reaches out, and Seungmin lets him.
Fingers trace over Seungminâs cheekbone, hesitant at first, until Seungmin leans into it, presses into it, and tilts his face just enough to close his eyes. The way someone might when theyâre memorizing a sound. Or bracing for it.
Their mouths donât meet at first. Itâs slower than that.
Foreheads rest together. Noses brush. Their breathing syncs- shallow, but steady. And then, with the faintest catch of breath, Jeongin presses in.
Itâs soft. Careful. Their lips part like a secret being shared.
Seungminâs hand curls into Jeonginâs shirt, right at the hem. Not pulling. Just anchoring. You can hear it. The shift of fabric, the press of knees on the mattress, the exhale that sounds too much like a whimper but gets swallowed in the space between them.
Jeonginâs eyes flutter open. He looks drunk on something far stronger than wine.
Seungmin nods. Swallows. âYeah. You?â
âYeah,â Jeongin breathes. âCan I⌠try again?â
And this time, when he kisses him, itâs deeper. Less hesitant. His hand slides to Seungminâs waist, palm pressing gently, and Seungmin responds, one leg shifting to part just slightly, inviting the touch. Encouraging it.
Their bodies start to fall into it, into rhythm. Familiarity. Lips parting. Breath exchanged. Hands tugging at fabric like theyâre trying to learn it blindfolded.
Seungminâs hoodie slides halfway up, revealing the smooth skin of his stomach, the line of muscle beneath his ribs. Jeonginâs mouth dips to press there, just one kiss, reverent and shaky, and Seungmin arches, his breath catching audibly.
You bite your lip and turn over slowly, back facing them now. Just enough to give them privacy. Not enough to miss a thing.
âYouâre shaking,â Jeongin murmurs.
âExcited,â Seungmin admits. âNervous. Itâs both.â
âYouâre doing great,â Jeongin says. And he means it. His voice is honeyed with awe. Like heâs witnessing something sacred.
His hand trails lower, fingers brushing along Seungminâs waistband, a featherlight touch that makes Seungmin gasp through his teeth.
Then Seungmin nods. One word, small and sure: âYes.â
Jeongin answers with a kiss to his collarbone, fingers inching under fabric now. And you canât help it. You shift again, slowly, sinking deeper into your blanket. Not to watch, not really. Just to feel the moment unfold through the air, thick with heat and care and something achingly new.
Their breathing deepens. A hand slips beneath cotton, a low hum escapes. Your cheeks burn even as you stare at the darkness inside your hood.
And still, no one speaks too loud. The moment doesnât need volume.
It just needs breath. Touch. Trust.
And they're giving each other all of it.
The air in the room hums with something electric.
Jeonginâs hoodie is half-off, tangled around his elbows, his chest rising and falling like heâs sprinted up a hill with no end in sight. Seungmin is straddling him now, knees pressed firmly on either side of Jeonginâs thighs, hoodie abandoned somewhere near the edge of the bed, jaw taut, eyes burning.
You canât see everything, but you can feel it.
Every rustle of the sheets, every low gasp, every subtle hitch of the mattress beneath their shifting weight.
âOkay?â Seungmin asks quietly, leaning in close enough that his breath lands right against Jeonginâs lips.
Jeongin nods quickly, voice caught somewhere in his throat. âYeah. Yeah, donât stop.â
Seungminâs mouth curves in the barest hint of a smirk. That min-smirk. Calculated. Confident. Teasing. His hands slide up Jeonginâs chest, fingers spreading wide, dragging lightly across skin like heâs memorizing it with every pass.
You hear Jeonginâs breath shudder. âFuck, youâreâŚSeungmin-â
âSay it,â Seungmin whispers, leaning down now, mouth at Jeonginâs neck. âYou canât stutter your way through this, Innie. Not with me on top.â
And then he bites, not hard, just enough to make Jeonginâs hips jerk upward, desperate and uncontrollable.
A sharp gasp breaks the room.
Your heart lurches, pounding with secondhand tension. You canât help the heat crawling up your spine. You told them you wouldnât watch. And you arenât. Not really. But you can hear every shift, every breath, every moan, and the sounds alone are enough to burn your thoughts down to ash.
Not fast. Slow grinds, hips rolling downward, pressing into Jeongin with calculated pressure. Like he knows exactly what heâs doing. Like he planned it. Like heâs studied Jeonginâs body without ever needing to touch it before.
And Jeongin is unraveling.
His fingers dig into Seungminâs back, blunt nails dragging down muscle, and his voice spills out in fragments.
âPlease, fasterâŚI need-â
But Seungmin just laughs, low and hot against his jaw. âYouâll get what I give you.â
He rocks again. Down. Deep. Purposeful. The air fills with friction and sweat and soft gasps swallowed into skin. Your mouth is dry. Your palms clammy where they rest under your cheek, your body curled into itself, torn between staying silent and begging to be somewhere else, or maybe nowhere at all, because what are they doing to each other?
Jeongin chokes out a sound. Desperate. Filthy. Needy.
Seungmin cuts him off with a kiss. Bruising. Open-mouthed. Dominant. He devours Jeonginâs breath like itâs the only air in the room, fingers sliding lower, pushing fabric down, down, until you hear skin meet skin.
Thatâs when Jeongin really breaks.
A moan spills out, muffled, maybe bitten back by Seungminâs mouth, but it still finds you. Hits deep. Your stomach knots. Your fingers curl tighter under the blanket.
Seungmin doesnât let up.
He keeps moving. Keeps grinding, hips flush against Jeonginâs, chasing friction, riding a rhythm only they know. You hear the bed creak beneath them; soft, rhythmic, matched by the occasional gasp, the whimper that escapes when a kiss lands too low or a thrust grinds just right.
The kind thatâs ragged, heavy, breathless.
The kind that only comes when two people are shaking, sweating, and dizzy from something they canât name yet.
Then a quiet sound, the soft thump of Seungmin collapsing beside him, and a low, shaky laugh from Jeongin.
âHoly shit,â he breathes.
Seungmin just groans and mutters, âYouâre loud.â
âYouâre evil,â Jeongin says, voice still wrecked. âIncredible, but evil.â
You stay quiet. Barely breathing. Trying to be invisible.
Trying not to let the flush on your cheeks give away the fact that youâre trembling too.
The room is thick with heat and silence.
Their bodies lie tangled in the aftermath of the first rush. Limbs draped, breath coming in shallow pulses, hearts still racing. The sound of someoneâs shirt hitting the floor echoes like thunder in the quiet. You donât move.
Youâre curled toward the wall now, blanket drawn up to your ears, but you feel every rustle behind you. Every shift of weight. Every sigh thatâs just a little too breathy to be casual.
âStill okay?â Seungminâs voice is lower nowâŚhusky, tender. It slides along your spine like smoke.
Jeongin nods against the mattress. âYeah. I⌠I wanna keep going.â
The unmistakable sound of lips reconnecting. Slower now. Hungrier. Not the fevered rush of before, but something deeper, more dangerous. The kind of kiss that unravels, not explodes.
Then you hear it: the shift of the blanket. The tug of elastic. The soft gasp Jeongin makes when Seungminâs hand slides lower, under.
He freezes. âYou okay?â Seungmin murmurs.
Jeongin nods quickly. âCold hands.â
âDeal with it,â Seungmin mutters, teasing, but warm.
And thenâŚsilence again.
Heavy. Focused. The kind that says something sacred is happening behind you and you should not be hearing it.
But you do.
The sound is subtle, the slick, muted slide of Seungminâs fingers finally pressing in, slow and careful. Not too far. Just enough to make Jeonginâs breath catch. You imagine it: Seungmin lying on his side, his hand slipping down between Jeonginâs thighs, body curled over his, mouth near his neck.
âRelax,â Seungmin whispers. âDonât fight it.â
Jeongin lets out a choked sound. Not pain. Just overwhelm.
The mattress shifts with the rhythm, slow, methodical. You hear the soft sound of breath trembling out of Jeongin chest, then a whisper: âShit, Minnie, feelsâŚâ
âI know,â Seungmin murmurs. âIâve got you.â
Another slick sound. The press of another finger. A long, slow exhale. The rhythm builds, not fast, but deeper, his fingers stretching Jeongin with gentle patience, curling just enough to draw a broken moan from his lips.
"Not yet," Seungmin answers, voice pure control. âYouâre not ready. You think you are, but youâll hurt.â
Jeongin whimpers, hips twitching. âThen make me ready.â
And you swear, in that exact moment, your heart stops.
Youâre not watching.
But you can see it in your head.
Seungminâs fingers inside him, stroking slow and deliberate, watching every reaction with clinical focus and loverâs awe. Jeongin trembling, lips bitten raw, trying to stay still and failing. The air saturated with something heavy and slick and sacred.
Then comes the whisper⌠soft, and almost broken:
Then Seungminâs voice, barely audible. âI know.â
A kiss. A wet, open-mouthed kiss. The sound is unmistakable. Then the slide of fingers easing out, slow, careful, followed by the telltale rustle of Seungmin reaching for something in his bag. You hear the soft click of a cap.
Your cheeks burn.
Your bodyâs tense.
And youâre still silent.
Just a few feet away from where Seungmin is getting ready to really take him.
The air in the room felt different now.
Warm. Heavy. Saturated with breath and skin and something raw between them.
Jeongin lay back against the pillow, chest rising fast, legs bent at the knees, thighs spread in quiet invitation. His cheeks were flushed, his lips kissed pink, and his eyes⌠God, his eyes were blown wide with need, trust, and the kind of nervous hunger only a first time could bring.
Seungmin hovered over him, one hand steady at Jeonginâs thigh, the other slick and trembling slightly as he stroked himself. His expression was focused, tense, not with hesitation, but with reverence. Like he couldnât believe this was real.
âYou good?â he asked softly, leaning in, forehead almost touching Jeonginâs.
Jeongin nodded. âYeah. I want this. I want you.â
That was all Seungmin needed.
He lined himself up carefully, breathing in through his nose, out through his mouth, grounding himself. Jeonginâs legs tightened briefly around his hips at the first press, and they both froze.
The stretch was sharp. New. But not unbearable.
Seungmin paused just at the edge, lips brushing Jeonginâs temple.
âBreathe. Donât push back. Let me in slow.â
The first inch made Jeongin whimper. A sound full of resistance and relief, aching with the paradox of pain that felt right. Seungmin kissed him through it, pressing another inch, and another, rocking barely forward until he bottomed out in one long, breathless slide.
Jeonginâs hands gripped Seungminâs biceps, trembling. âFucking hellâŚâ
âI know,â Seungmin whispered, voice tight, one hand smoothing down Jeonginâs thigh in steady strokes. âI know. Youâre doing so good.â
They stayed like that for a long moment. Foreheads touching, breath shared, bodies locked together in perfect stillness.
He rolled his hips slowly, dragging out and pushing back in with measured control. The stretch remained, but the ache dulled into something else. Something sharper. Something good.
Jeongin moaned, head tilting back against the pillow. âOh my God, Min!â
âThatâs it,â Seungmin muttered, adjusting the angle, shifting Jeonginâs hips slightly higher. âLet me find itâŚâ
He thrust again, slow and deep, and Jeongin cried out, the sound punched from his chest, raw and wrecked and helpless.
âThere,â Jeongin gasped. âRight there, donât stop-â
He kept thrusting into that spot, over and over, hips rolling in a steady rhythm that was less about power and more about precision. He wanted Jeongin to feel it. Every inch. Every drag. Every intent behind the movement.
Sweat beaded at Seungminâs temples. Jeonginâs hands clawed at the sheets, at Seungminâs arms, at anything he could hold to keep himself from shattering.
Rhythmic creaks of the bed. Quiet moans swallowed into each otherâs mouths. The wet sound of skin meeting skin, slick and smooth, filling the room in waves. Each thrust grew more desperate. Not messy, but urgent. Like they were chasing something neither could name but both needed.
Jeongin arched. Legs trembling. His voice broke.
âSeungmin, Iâm close alreadyâŚâ
Seungmin kissed him, hard. âI know.â
His thrusts lost some rhythm then, pace stuttering, deeper, rougher now as he buried himself to the hilt and held there, grinding slow. Jeongin bucked beneath him, breath hitching once, twiceâŚand then his whole body tensed.
He came with a cry, spilling between them, thighs shaking, mouth open in a soundless gasp as the pleasure ripped through him like a wave.
Seungmin kept moving. Just a little. Just enough.
It was the final clutch of Jeonginâs arms around him that sent him over the edge. One last thrust, one long groan pressed into Jeonginâs neck, and Seungmin came, hips locked tight, body collapsing over him like surrender.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Only breathing. Fast. Shaky. Wet with sweat and aftershock.
Their hands didnât let go.
After a long pause, Seungmin shifted gently, pulling back just enough to ease the pressure, but staying close. He slid down the bed to rest beside Jeongin, letting their legs tangle together. Jeonginâs fingers found Seungminâs face, tracing every line like a map.
But the moment wasnât over.
Seungmin tugged Jeongin up onto his side, curling him close. Their bodies molded perfectly, the curve of Seungminâs back fitting into Jeonginâs chest, hips still brushing, skin still slick and warm.
Then, with a slow, teasing smile, Seungmin rolled so he was pressed behind Jeongin, one arm sliding under to hold him close, the other hand tracing lazy patterns down Jeonginâs side. This spooning position was intimate in its own right, a quiet contrast to the raw intensity that came just moments before.
Jeongin sighed, breath warm against Seungminâs neck.
âStill good?â Seungmin whispered.
âBetter than I imagined,â Jeongin murmured, voice soft.
They stayed like that, bodies entwined, breaths slowing, the world shrinking to just the two of them and the fragile, beautiful space theyâd just crossed together.
The heat between them was still thick, lingering like a flame refusing to die. Seungminâs breath was ragged against Jeonginâs neck as he shifted beneath him, the cool air brushing over their slick skin.
Seungminâs hands rested lightly on Jeonginâs hips, steadying him, offering silent encouragement.
âYour turn,â Seungmin breathed, voice low and rough, heavy with trust.
Jeongin blinked, startled. âWhat?â
Seungmin smiled, a slow, mischievous curve of lips that made Jeonginâs heart stutter. âI want you on top.â
Jeongin swallowed, cheeks flushing crimson. The idea felt bold, terrifying, thrilling all at once.
Seungmin reached out, steadying him by the waist. âWeâll guide each other. Take your time. I want this to be as good for you as it was for me.â
With a nervous laugh, Jeongin shifted, sliding up carefully, his fingers finding purchase on Seungminâs chest. He eased down, settling over him, their eyes locking.
The bed creaked beneath them as Jeongin leaned forward, placing gentle kisses along Seungminâs shoulder blade, his breath warm and soft against sweating skin.
Seungmin shifted, arching slightly, welcoming Jeonginâs presence behind him, the subtle invitation clear.
His hands slid down, trying to push the first finger past the rim, which met no resistance. Arching a brow at Seungmin, all Seungmin did was blush and whisper a small âI did that in the bathroom hoping you'll top me.â
Jeongin let out a tiny curse as his fingers brushed the small of Seungminâs back before tracing slow, featherlight circles that sent shivers down both their spines.
He reached forward, hands slipping beneath Seungminâs waist, gripping firmly but tenderly as he aligned himself.Â
âWait, when did he lube himself up?â You thought to yourself.
A sharp intake of breath from Seungmin marked the first press, the delicious tension of new angles and new depths.
Jeongin moved with deliberate slowness, letting the weight of their trust guide every inch.
Seungminâs hands curled into the sheets, nails digging in as Jeonginâs hips pressed forward, then pulled back in a measured rhythm.Â
Each motion was heavy with sensation. Muscle against muscle, skin sliding slickly, every nerve ignited. And with each movement, you felt yourself letting loose, not being able to focus on what was happening.
Jeongin leaned closer, lips brushing Seungminâs neck in a soft, teasing kiss that sent a thrill racing down their spines.
Seungminâs breath hitched, voice a low murmur: âGod, JeonginâŚâ
Encouraged, Jeongin increased the pace, slow and steady, feeling every response, every shudder, every gasp.
Seungminâs hips lifted slightly to meet Jeonginâs, deepening the connection with each measured thrust.
The room filled with soft sounds, whispers, moans, the rhythm of bodies in perfect sync.
Jeonginâs hands moved up to grip Seungminâs shoulders, anchoring himself as he leaned into the movement, eyes locked on the curve of Seungminâs neck and the way his muscles tensed beneath his touch.
âFuck,â Seungmin gasped, fingers tangling in the sheets.
Jeongin smiled softly, a mix of awe and desire coloring his expression.
He slowed, savoring the moment, then rolled his hips with a deliberate flick, sending a fresh wave of pleasure through them both.
Seungminâs back arched, a deep groan vibrating from his chest as he gripped the sheets tighter.
Jeongin whispered against his skin, voice thick with affection and need, âIâve got you. Just relax.â
Seungmin nodded, breath uneven, completely surrendering.
Jeonginâs movements became more confident, fluid, each thrust slow and purposeful, a dance of control and care.
Their bodies moved as one, every touch and motion laced with the unspoken promise of safety and acceptance.
Minutes stretched, each second heavy with the weight of firsts and forever.
Seungminâs hands found Jeonginâs sides, fingers tracing fire-hot trails as he urged him on.
Jeonginâs breath caught when Seungminâs voice came, rough and pleading, âJeongin⌠Iâm close.â
A tender smile curled Jeonginâs lips. âMe too.â
With one last deep thrust, slow and sure, they tumbled together into release, gasps and cries mingling in the dim light as their bodies shook.
Jeongin collapsed forward, forehead resting on Seungminâs back, chest rising and falling against warm skin.
Seungmin wrapped his arms around Jeonginâs waist, holding him tight, grounding them both.
For a long moment, there was only their breath and the quiet beating of their hearts, perfect, chaotic, beautiful.
The room had finally softened, the heat and tension of what had just passed lingering like a faint, warm glow rather than a burning fire. The air was heavy with quiet breaths and the faint scent of skin mingled with the soft cotton of blankets.
Seungmin lay back against the pillows, chest rising and falling in slow, steady waves. Jeongin curled tightly against his side, one arm draped protectively over Seungminâs waist, his fingers tracing idle circles on the smooth skin beneath, as if memorizing every inch. Their bodies fit together perfectly, a seamless, natural puzzle.
Y/N lied quietly at the edge of the same bed, knees pulled to her chest beneath an oversized hoodie she had slipped on, pretending to be asleep though her eyes fluttered open, drinking in the intimate scene unfolding before her.
The subtle details captivated her: the delicate brush of Seungminâs thumb along Jeonginâs hip bone, the soft, almost involuntary sighs that slipped from Jeonginâs lips when he relaxed completely into Seungminâs warmth, the faint, sleepy smiles they shared in silent conversation. It was a quiet song of trust and affection that only she seemed to hear.
Jeongin shifted just slightly, pressing a feather-light kiss to Seungminâs collarbone, and Seungmin responded with a deep, low hum, his fingers tightening momentarily in a tender grip before resuming their gentle caresses.
Y/Nâs chest swelled with a quiet affection she hadnât expected, an emotion deeper than anything sheâd felt before. It wasnât just the physical connection; it was the trust, the vulnerability, the raw tenderness they offered each other in every shared breath.
Her gaze flickered between them, noticing the silent language they spoke. Jeonginâs fingers intertwining with Seungminâs, their bodies easing even closer, the way Seungminâs entire frame softened at Jeonginâs touch.
Careful not to disturb their sacred bubble, Y/N stayed still, wrapped tight in her own warmth and the comfort of the moment.
Then, as if sensing her presence beside them, Seungmin shifted ever so slightly, turning his head to glance at her with eyes full of quiet affection. Without breaking their embrace, he reached out, his hand threading through Y/Nâs hair, stroking it with the gentlest touch.
Leaning in slowly, Seungmin pressed a soft, lingering kiss to Y/Nâs lips, tender and reassuring, a quiet promise whispered without words. The warmth of his mouth, the subtle brush of his breath, sent a ripple of warmth through her chest.
Y/Nâs breath hitched softly, her hand instinctively curling around Seungminâs waist as her fingers pressed lightly into the skin beneath his shirt.
Jeongin, shifting to make space, draped an arm over Y/Nâs hip, pulling her even closer into the tangled warmth of their bodies.
The three of them sank deeper into the mattress, limbs entwining naturally, Seungminâs leg brushing along Y/Nâs thigh, Jeonginâs fingers tracing lazy, soothing patterns down her back, every movement slow and filled with gentle intent.
Y/N felt the rise and fall of their breathing in sync, the soft murmur of their voices slipping into a hush, the quiet creak of the bed beneath them.
Every touch, every shared breath, wove them tighter together, a fragile cocoon of safety and belonging.
In this moment, there was only this.
This fragile, perfect stillness.
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