#minjae

you belonged to seongje. that was a known fact. even long before you decided to give him a chance, he’d claimed you. made sure no one looked at you, that nobody besides him dared to talk to you. and if someone disobeyed… well, seongje knew how to take care of that.

but that was years ago. now, the two of you were technically happily dating. of course, your relationship was far from perfect. seongje wasn’t the kind of boyfriend who showed up at your door with flowers or planned cute picnic dates. no. his affection came rough around the edges. his kisses were messy and hard, and whenever he held your hand, his grip lingered — a little too tight, a little too possessive.

and yet, you didn’t mind. because you loved seongje. you loved him even if he was violent and reckless, because that was your seongje. you never doubted that he loved you back, either. he showed it in his own ways — switching his food with yours when he noticed you didn’t like what you ordered, letting you win in video games, throwing his jacket over your shoulders without a word when you shivered.

he didn’t say “i love you” but you didn’t need him to. you understood him. the language of his silence, the warmth hidden under the bruised knuckles.

still, lately… things had started to spiral. you weren’t blind, and you weren’t stupid. you knew how he was — rude, unpredictable, quick to anger. fights followed him like a shadow. but after he joined the union, it got worse. darker. the way baekjin treated the eunjang kids was cruel, and seongje, as his right hand, was always the one who got his hands dirty.

you’d tried to ignore it. to look away. to pretend you didn’t see the way seongje dragged some poor kid into an alleyway on your way home.

but one night, you’d had enough.

he’d promised you that tonight was yours. no fights, no phone calls, no union business. you’d dressed up casual, but cute, something that said you’d tried. his hand was warm in yours, and for once, it felt like maybe things would be normal.

and then his phone rang.

whatever he heard made his lips twitch into that cruel little smile that you hated.

“okay, sounds fun.” he said into the phone before hanging up.

“hey, babe, mind doing a little detour?” he asked, letting go of your hand to light a cigarette. smoke curled around his face as he exhaled, not even looking at you before turning down a different street.

“but you promised we’d get parfaits tonight!” you protested, half-pouting as you hurried after him.

he chuckled under his breath, the sound lazy, distracted. “don’t worry, we will. just hurry up, yeah? the sooner we get there, the sooner you’ll get your parfait.” his eyes never left his phone.

your stomach sank. something about the air felt heavier now, like the night itself was warning you.

after a few minutes, you reached the basketball court of eunjang high.

“seongje, for the love of god, what are we doing here…” you muttered, crossing your arms, anxiety curling tight in your chest.

he glanced over his shoulder, grinning “babe, quiet, okay? just sit there and wait for me.”

he pointed towards the seating area near the court, then turned towards a figure you hadn’t noticed at first — a guy in a gray hoodie, a basketball resting at his feet, phone in hand, back turned to you.

before heading off, he pulled the glasses off his face and handed them to you. “hold onto these for me.” he said casually, his voice low and steady, like he’d done a hundred times before.

you did what seongje said. you always did. you sat down quietly, the night air sharp against your skin, holding his glasses gently and watched him walk away.

you told yourself you knew what was coming. just another one of seongje’s little “lessons.” you expected him to rough the guy up a little, maybe take his money or his phone. nothing too brutal. nothing you hadn’t seen before.

seongje walked up to the unknowing guy, his steps steady, shoulders loose, that kind of calm that only made you more nervous. he called out “hey,” tapping the stranger’s shoulder, and before the poor guy could even blink, seongje’s fist connected with the boy’s cheek.

the guy stumbled back, startled, clutching his side as he turned around and at that moment your stomach dropped. it was go hyuntak. you’d heard that name before, whispered between union members and seongje himself. baku’s closest friend — the one at the root of baekjin’s obsession with tormenting the eunjang kids.

hyuntak recovered fast, pushing seongje back and swinging a punch of his own — sharp, clean, practiced. you remembered hearing that he does taekwondo. but it didn’t matter. seongje was faster. angrier. the kind of furious that didn’t stop once it started.

the sound of fists hitting skin echoed across the empty court. you looked away, pressing a hand to your mouth. fights weren’t new to you — but this seemed more violent than any that you’ve seen before.

then you heard it. a bloody scream.

you turned back, and your heart dropped. hyuntak was on the ground, gasping, one eye swollen shut, a bloody scratch in the middle of his face. seongje was on top of him, that manic grin on his face, eyes shining with something dark and unrecognizable. his leg pressed hard against hyuntak’s knee — the kind of pressure that made your stomach twist just watching.

“seongje!” you shouted, rushing forward, grabbing his arm “that’s enough! you’re going to kill him at this rate, please!”

he didn’t even look at you at first. you tried to pull him off, but he was too far gone “seongje, stop— ! please!” your voice cracked, tears spilling over.

finally, he snapped his head toward you, breathing hard, his expression cold. “baekjin told me to handle it,” he muttered “it’s not enough yet.”

“if you don’t stop right now,” you said, your voice trembling “i’m leaving you.”

for a second, everything froze.

he stared at you, eyes empty in a way that made your whole body tense. then, slowly, he let out a breathy laugh.

“okay. okay.” he stood, brushing off his hands like nothing happened “but if i get in trouble with baekjin for this, you’re the one explaining it to him, yeah?”

you didn’t answer. couldn’t.

he glanced down at hyuntak, who was barely sitting up, pain written all over his face. seongje grabbed a fistful of his hair and leaned in close, voice low “you’re lucky my girl’s here. she saved your pathetic ass this time.”

then he let go, shoving his hands into his pockets, and turned to you with that same easy tone that made your stomach twist, taking his glasses back “come on, let’s get those parfaits, pretty girl.”

you stood frozen for a second longer before following him, your legs shaking. you glanced back at hyuntak, whispering, “i’m so sorry…” before turning away.

the walk to the café was quiet at first. light rain had started to fall again, faint and cold, the streets slick under the streetlights. seongje hummed as he was walking, the faint smell of smoke and blood still clinging to him.

“damn,” he muttered, flexing his bruised knuckles, the corner of his mouth twitching into a grin “that prick was pretty resistant, huh?” he chuckled, glancing sideways at you “but you’re gonna patch me up when we get home, right?”

he said it lightly, teasing — the way he always did after a fight. like it was some inside joke between you two.

but you didn’t laugh. you didn’t even look at him. your eyes were fixed on the pavement, each step heavier than the last.

the silence stretched.

seongje frowned, running a hand through his hair before pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose “what’s with you?” he asked, voice carrying that edge again.

you swallowed hard, but the words wouldn’t come out. you didn’t know what to say — how to say it. how to tell him that the image of hyuntak’s twisted knee and broken stare wouldn’t leave your mind.

when you didn’t respond, he scoffed, shaking his head with a bitter laugh.

“do you care about that eunjang guy or what?” he said sharply, his tone caught somewhere between disbelief and irritation. “you’ve seen me fight before. what’s up with you?”

his voice hung in the air — rough, impatient. you could feel his eyes on you, searching for something, maybe guilt, maybe betrayal.

you kept walking, trying to shake it off, but seongje’s hand shot out, gripping your wrist firmly, stopping you mid step.

“we’re not going anywhere until you answer me,” he said, voice low and sharp, knuckles pressing just enough to make you wince. “you never cared when i beat someone up, and now you’re suddenly tearing up over some random punk?”

you avoided his gaze, your voice trembling but steady “why are you being jealous even now, seongje? no, i don’t care about him. it’s just… isn’t that guy an athlete? i heard at the bowling alley that he does taekwondo. why mess him up this badly just because of baekjin’s petty fight with his friend? it’s not even your problem, yet you got your hands dirty anyway… you didn’t just land a punch or two tonight, seongje. i felt like throwing up when i saw it. he’s in serious need of medical help, and you expect me to just sit and eat parfaits like nothing happened?”

for a moment, everything went quiet — the hum of the city, the faint smell of smoke lingering from his clothes, the weight of his hand on your wrist — all pressing against you.

seongje blinked at you, his expression dark but amused. after a long pause, he finally shook his head and let out a low, dry chuckle “okay, okay… if we call an ambulance now, will your highness forgive me?”

you just gave him a small nod.

you fished your phone out of your pocket and called, keeping your voice steady despite the adrenaline still coursing through you. “uh, hi… i saw some kids fighting at the basketball court at eunjang high. it looked pretty bad… someone might be hurt. yeah, please send help.” of course, you didn’t mention seongje’s involvement.

you stayed few meters away from eunjang high till the ambulance arrived. you let out a long sigh of relief. finally, some weight lifted off your chest.

but before you could even relax, seongje’s hand shot out, gripping yours. he pulled you close, his dark eyes flickering with a dangerous glint that made your heart skip.

“now,” he murmured, voice low and firm “you have to promise me something. never reach out to him. never look for go hyuntak again.”

you hesitated, your stomach twisting, but reluctantly, you nodded “okay… i promise.”

a slow, satisfied smirk spread across his face. he pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles. “good girl” he whispered. and then, finally, letting go, he tugged your hand as he guided you away from the chaos.

“i’m too tired for parfaits now. let’s just head home.” you said quietly, leaning a little into seongje’s touch. you weren’t sure if it was because you wanted his warmth or because some part of you wanted to reassure him, to ease the jealousy still flickering behind his eyes.

“yeah, sure. whatever you say, princess.” he murmured with a lazy yawn.

later, at home, seongje sprawled across your bed, one arm draped over your waist as he dozed off, his steady breathing filling the quiet room. you stayed still for a while, just watching him, tracing the faint lines of his jaw in the dim light.

eventually, curiosity got the better of you. you picked up your phone from your night stand and searched for hyuntak on instagram, your fingers trembling slightly as you scrolled through his profile. there weren’t many posts — a few from his taekwondo competitions, photos with baku, laughing and looking carefree. they were literally just… boys. it was jarring to see him so normal, so happy, knowing what had just happened.

as you scrolled through the images, your heart got tight in your chest, hoping he wasn’t hurt too badly, and wondering what exactly drove baekjin to treat him the way he did.

seongje stirred slightly in his sleep, tightening his hold over your waist. you lowered your phone for a moment, glancing down at him, and felt a strange mix of relief, fear, and love all at once.

a few days later, you noticed something that made your stomach twist. hyuntak had deleted all of his taekwondo photos from instagram. the competitions, the medals, the candid smiles with his team — gone. it felt like a piece of his identity had vanished overnight, and you couldn’t stop thinking about it.

you told yourself not to get involved. but guilt gnawed at you until you couldn’t take it anymore. you needed to know he was okay.

you’d seen which way the ambulance drove that night, and after some searching, you figured out which hospital he’d probably ended up in. you didn’t tell seongje. he’d made it painfully clear that you were never to reach out or even mention hyuntak again.

you slipped into the hospital quietly, your hood up, heart hammering in your chest.

“um… i’m here to visit the patient brought in from eunjang high a few nights ago,” you told the nurse, voice barely above a whisper “he was injured during a fight. go hyuntak.”

after a brief exchange, the nurse finally nodded. “room 214. but please, keep it short, he needs to rest.”

you nodded quickly and made your way down the hall. the antiseptic smell made your stomach twist even more.

when you stepped into the room, you froze. hyuntak was sitting up in bed, a gray blanket draped over his legs. one of his eyes was still swollen shut, a cut ran across the bridge of his nose, and his knee was wrapped tightly in thick bandages. he looked rough.

“you…” he said slowly, confused “you’re… that girl.”

you hesitated, guilt crawling up your throat. “yeah. i… i just wanted to check if you’re okay.”

he stared for a moment before letting out a small breathy laugh “you didn’t have to come.”

“i did.” you said quietly, guilt pressing down on your chest. “i feel horrible, knowing that it was my boyfriend who—”

“hey,” he cut in gently, shaking his head “it’s not your fault. you didn’t hit me.”

“but i didn’t stop him either.”

he smiled faintly, though the movement clearly hurt. “you tried. i remember your face. you were crying.”

you looked down at the floor, unable to meet his eyes.

a pause. then he exhaled shakily. “the doctor said i’ll have to quit taekwondo.”

your head snapped up. “what?”

“my knee’s messed up. bad,” he said, his voice flat but not cold — more like he’d already accepted it. “they said even if it heals, i won’t be able to compete again. no tournaments. no practice. nothing.”

the silence that followed was suffocating.

you felt tears sting your eyes. “i’m… i’m so sorry.” you whispered, voice trembling.

he forced a small smile. “you don’t have to apologize for him.”

“still,” you said quietly “you didn’t deserve that.”

for a moment, neither of you said anything. the only sound was the faint hum of the machines.

then, after a beat, he asked softly, “what’s your name?”

“…y/n.” you murmured.

“y/n..” he repeated like it was a secret “pretty name.”

you forced a small smile and stood up “i should go. i wouldn’t like to cause any more trouble. i just wanted to see how you’re doing.”

“wait,” he said quickly, his voice strained “will i… see you again?”

you hesitated, hand on the door “…i don’t know.”

“take care, y/n.” he said quietly.

you nodded once and slipped out before you could cry.

a nurse entered just as you left, holding a clipboard. she glanced towards the door, then at hyuntak.

“your girlfriend seems really worried about you.” she said, scribbling something on his chart.

hyuntak blinked, caught off guard. “my—? no, she’s not—”

the nurse just chuckled “sure she isn’t. i can tell when someone cares.”

and as she walked out, hyuntak sank back against his pillow, staring up at the ceiling — your voice, your apology, your eyes now haunting him more than the pain in his knee.

when you came home that evening, the apartment was dim, lit only by the soft glow of the tv. seongje was sprawled across the couch, phone in hand, his jacket tossed carelessly over the armrest. he glanced up when you walked in.

“you’re late.” he said, not accusing. just observing.

you forced a smile “yeah. stopped by the store. we were out of milk.”

it wasn’t a total lie. you had stopped by the store. just after spending an hour at the hospital.

he hummed, eyes narrowing slightly “is that so?”

you nodded, slipping off your shoes, keeping your gaze low. the silence that followed wasn’t unusual. seongje was never much of a talker, but tonight it felt heavier. it pressed down on you, the memory of hyuntak’s words still echoing in your head. i have to quit taekwondo.

“you good?” he asked finally, his tone almost casual.

“yeah. just tired.”

he stood, walking over to you. his hand found your chin, tilting your face up so your eyes met his “you’ve been ‘just tired’ for days now.”

your breath hitched “but i really am.”

he studied you for a long moment, then let go, muttering, “yeah. sure. alright.” he turned away, running a hand through his hair.

the space between you felt like a quiet accusation neither of you wanted to voice.

the flowers arrived a week later. a simple white bouquet, lilies mixed with small sprigs of lavender, wrapped neatly in paper. there was no sender’s name, just a small card that said:

thank you for checking up on me. i’m doing better now — don’t worry.

p.s. i got your address from the nurse since you signed it at the reception. i didn’t stalk you, haha.

your stomach dropped when you read it. the handwriting was neat, careful. it didn’t take a genius to guess who it was from.

you placed the flowers on the kitchen counter, unsure what to do with them. maybe you’d throw them away later. maybe.

but you didn’t get the chance.

the door swung open sooner than you had expected, and seongje stepped inside, tossing his keys down with a familiar clang “you home, princess?” he called, his voice rough with exhaustion. then he spotted the bouquet.

he froze.

“what’s that?”

you hesitated. “flowers.”

“yeah, i can see that.” he walked closer, his tone turning sharp “from who?”

you swallowed. “i don’t know.”

his jaw clenched. “don’t lie to me.”

“i’m not lying, seongje.” you tried to keep your voice steady, but the tension in the air felt suffocating.

“you think i’m stupid?” he snapped, stepping closer. “you think i wouldn’t recognize the look on your face? that damn guilt you’ve been carrying for weeks?”

“i told you, it’s nothing—”

“is it that eunjang guy?” he cut you off, voice low, dangerous. “the one whose ass i should’ve broken worse?”

“he didn’t do anything wrong!” you blurted before you could stop yourself.

his silence after that was worse than his shouting.

he stared at you, disbelief clouding into something darker. “unbelievable.” he let out a humorless laugh. “you’re defending him?”

“you nearly ruined his life, seongje!” you shot back, voice cracking. “you don’t even see it, do you? what you’ve become—”

“what i’ve become?” he took a step forward, and your body reacted before your mind did — you flinched.

just a tiny movement, instinctive. but enough.

he froze.

the anger drained from his face, replaced by something raw and broken. his hand fell to his side.

“…you just flinched.” he said quietly, as if saying it aloud would make it less real.

you couldn’t look at him.

he took a slow step back, eyes unfocused “you’re scared of me.”

“i—”

“don’t.” his voice cracked, low and unsteady. “don’t say anything. i can’t—” he turned away, running a trembling hand through his hair “shit.”

the air between you was heavy. he didn’t yell again. he just stood there, breathing unevenly, the weight of what he’d done pressing down harder than any punch he’d ever thrown.

you wanted to say something, hoped to sit down and find some quiet, peaceful resolution together, but seongje just grabbed his keys and left without another word.

seongje wasn’t supposed to be there.

yet there he was, standing outside the convenience store near eunjang high, smoke curling lazily from the cigarette between his fingers.

hyuntak showed up eventually — walking stiffly, knee still bandaged under his jeans, earbuds in. seongje almost turned away, almost let it go. but then he saw the crutch tucked under hyuntak’s arm, saw him limp slightly, and something ugly in his chest snapped.

“hey.” seongje called out, voice sharp.

hyuntak stopped, frowning. his expression shifted when he saw who it was “you’ve got to be kidding me.”

seongje dropped the cigarette and stepped closer, grinding it under his heel. “relax. i’m not here to finish the job.”

“yeah? could’ve fooled me.” hyuntak muttered, eyes narrowing.

for a moment, neither of them spoke. the air was thick, heavy with things unsaid.

then seongje said “you sent her flowers.”

hyuntak blinked. “what?”

“don’t play dumb.” seongje hissed. “white lilies. a cute little note. that was you, wasn’t it?”

hyuntak’s expression hardened. “i just wanted to thank her. she came to the hospital when no one else did.”

“oh, so that’s what we’re calling it now?” seongje scoffed. “thanking her?” he took a step closer, eyes narrowing. “you’ve got a crush on her, don’t you?”

hyuntak didn’t answer right away. he just looked at him — calm, steady, too steady for seongje’s liking.

“you really think everything’s about you, huh?” hyuntak finally said. “i don’t have a crush on her. i just felt sorry for her.”

that hit harder than it should’ve.

“sorry?” seongje’s voice turned cold.

“yeah,” hyuntak continued, his voice quiet but sharp “because it’s clear she’s walking on eggshells around you. she looked terrified when i just mentioned your name at the hospital. and now that i’ve seen your face again, i get why.”

“watch your mouth.” seongje warned.

“or what? you’ll break my other leg?” hyuntak shot back, taking a shaky step forward. “go ahead. maybe that’s all you know how to do — hit things until they stop talking.”

seongje’s jaw clenched, hand twitching like he was fighting the urge to swing. but he didn’t. not this time.

instead, he just laughed. a hollow, humorless sound. “you think you know her, huh? you think you understand what we’ve got?”

“i don’t have to.” hyuntak said simply. “i just know she deserves better than someone she’s afraid of.”

the words cut straight through him.

for a moment, all seongje could do was stare.

“you should’ve stayed out of it.” he said finally, voice low, almost shaking.

“yeah,” hyuntak replied. “maybe you should’ve too.”

then he walked past him — limping, slow, but unflinching.

seongje didn’t follow. he just stood there, watching him disappear down the street, his chest tight, his reflection burning in the store window behind him — a stranger with bruised knuckles, hollow eyes, and guilt written all over his face.

you’d tried to stay awake all night, waiting for seongje to come back after he’d stormed out during your fight before, but he never did. you’d texted him, called him, each message and ring unanswered. eventually, exhaustion won, and you passed out on the couch, phone still clutched in your hand.

and yet… despite everything, you loved him. maybe that was what hurt the most. you’d seen him violent, ruthless, and anyone else would’ve been terrified enough to leave. but not you. you wanted to stay. but now, uncertainty gnawed at you. what if he decided it was better for both of you to step back so he could sink fully into the union, instead of trying to be better for you?

when you woke, it was just past six. the faint sting of cigarette smoke hit your nose immediately. your eyes fluttered open, and there he was — leaned against the counter, staring at the bouquet that still stood in its vase, a war waging in his expression. you softened at the sight, relief washing over you, but that was cut short when the smoke made you cough.

“seongje… it’s too early for smoking,” you murmured, voice thick with sleep. “open the window at least.” you moved past him towards the window, but his hand shot out, gentle yet firm, gripping your wrist.

he dipped the cigarette into the ashtray, then reached for your other hand, holding it too, softer than ever before. and in that moment, all the walls he’d built, all the cruelty, all the darkness… it seemed like it might finally crack.

“i fucked up.” he said, voice breaking, raw “yesterday… when you flinched… that was it. that was the moment i realized just how far i’d gone. i made you scared of me. the only person i love… thought i might hurt her.”

he dropped to his knees, which made you gasp, but you couldn’t bring yourself to utter a word at this moment. his eyes darkened with something you hadn’t seen before — guilt, regret, desperation.

“i got blinded by the union, by baekjin… i thought being strong, being feared, made me important. but it only made you slip further out of my reach. while other boys took their girlfriends on trips to jeju, wore matching outfits, took photos with stupid filters in photobooths… i made you sit with me in the dark bowling alley, surrounded by all the other union guys… i looked at you and hated myself in that moment, resizing just how much more you deserve. when we go out, i see how your gaze lingers at those couples, and i… i tried to be strong instead. strong enough to protect you at least. but all i did… was scare you.”

he pressed his forehead lightly to your tights, his hands wrapped around your knees, breathing unevenly, his voice barely a whisper now, hoarse from holding it in. “i know what i did to hyuntak… and i can’t take it back. i can’t undo it… but i swear, i’ll listen to you. i’ll try. i’ll be better. i’ll be the man you deserve. not perfect… not gentle like him… but someone who won’t make you flinch.”

you let your hands fall into his hair, carefully threading your fingers through it as your tears spilled freely. “seongje… what you did to him… you changed his life. but… i love you. i still love you. and i’ll stay… if you’ll actually listen, if you’ll let me guide you when you… when you go too far.”

he lifted his head slightly, eyes shining wetly, desperate. “i’ll do it. i swear. i’ll listen. i don’t deserve you… but i’ll do anything to keep you. please… please don’t leave me.”

you brushed his bangs away from his face gently, your chest aching. “okay.” you whispered.

and there he stayed on his knees, the rough, possessive edge of him still intact, but broken and raw in front of you. the man you loved, finally realizing the weight of what he’d done, and the only way forward was to fight not with his fists, but by being better for you.

fin.

민재 ── MINJAE

It was well into the night, and Minjae was still stuck in the studio working on some of his projects. You, being the oh-so-sweet girlfriend you were, decided to go keep him company. However, you weren't aware of just how much your boyfriend was frustrated with his work. When you walked in, you tried to get him to take a break so he could eat, but he brushed you off; however, you insisted. Minjae groaned, taking his headphones off to look at you, his annoyance through the roof. He didn't want to be mean, especially to you, but your antics—good albit—were irking his nerves.

This ultimately resulted in you being bent over his desk, your cute little skirt bunched over your hips, your underwear thrown off to the side, and Minjae's cock buried deep in your walls. Now, you were never one to be quiet when you two had sex, and Minjae knew this, which is why he had his hand covering your mouth, muffling your moans and cries of his name. When your climax washed over you, his hand slipped down a bit as he groaned, still fucking into your fluttering walls. The sensitivity of it all was too much, and you needed something to ground yourself; however, that something just so happened to be your boyfriend's hand. One hand grabbed his wrist as you bit down on the space between his thumb and index finger, while the other clutched the desk for support.

Minjae let out a low curse at the sudden sensation of your teeth sinking into his skin, his hips faltering as he neared his own high. Gritting his teeth, he tightened his grip on your jaw as you released your teeth, pulling your body up so your back was flush with his chest.

"Oh, so we're biting now, babygirl?" He growled in your ear, eliciting a loud whine from your kiss-swollen lips. His pace grew nearly feral, easily leaving you a panting and breathless mess in his arms, "since you wanna be so naughty, then why don't we let everyone know, hmm?"

준민 — JUNMIN

When Junmin got back to the dorms, all he wanted to do was get in the shower, then go to bed, work having drained him. However, he hadn't expected to see you sitting on the living room couch, snacking on some chips with Sumin. Having seen you, it was like he gained a whole new burst of energy, and seeing you with Sumin seemed to flip a switch. Now, he wasn't one who openly got jealous, but seeing you with his bandmate and not even telling him you were there… oh yeah, he was peeved.

You barely had time to tell Sumin goodbye before Junmin was walking over and grabbing your wrist to drag you away. He barely said a word, jaw clenched tightly as he pulled you to his room and kicked the door shut. You tried to talk to him, but he just said he wanted to take a shower, hoping to cool himself, but then you climbed in with him. Then his last string of self-restraint snapped, and he had you pinned to the shower wall, cock driving into your squelching pussy. The sounds of your moans bounced off the walls, tears blurring your vision due to your boyfriend's rough pace, then you heard his bedroom door open, and you became acutely aware of the others in the dorms.

Your nails dug into his shoulder as you tugged him forward, lips latching onto his shoulder before unexpectedly biting down. Junmin groaned, eyes fluttering as his head fell back at the sudden infliction of pain. Then he also heard the others in the bedroom, and his earlier jealousy came back.

He moved his hand that wasn't supporting your body up to your head, tangling his fingers in your hair before tugging you off his shoulder. You let out a pathetic cry of his name as you looked up at him with teary eyes. Annoyance was evident on his features as he leaned down until his lips brushed yours, "Don't stay quiet, princess. Let them hear you. Let them hear how good I fuck you. Let them hear that you're mine."

수민 — SUMIN

You were over at your boyfriend's dorm, hoping to keep him company while all the other boys were out doing their own thing. It was a quiet weekend, and you sat on the edge of Sumin's bed watching him draw at his desk, his glasses falling down his nose every so often. You couldn't help but stare; he always looked like a sin straight out of the bible when he wore those damned glasses. It drove you up the wall and made you ache for him. So when he noticed your stare from the corner of his eye, he smirked, knowing what was going through your head.

"Whatcha starin' at there, princess?" He teased, causing you to roll your eyes, your cheeks flushing red, seeing as you'd been caught. Sumin smirked, turning in his chair to watch as you squirmed on his bed. His gaze alone was enough to get you worked up, but the glasses made it ten times more effective. With a simple 'come', you found yourself perched in his lap, thighs on either side of his hips, and your underwear pushed to the side, and his dick stretching you open. He didn't move and told you not to either while he finished his drawing. You wanted to whine in protest, but the moment a sound slipped from your lips, he gave you a pointed look, and you swallowed those words.

The next thirty minutes were pure torture. You desperately tried to keep still and be good, but Sumin made it hard when he moved his hips or legs. At some point, you figured he was just doing it on purpose, and your brain was starting to fuzz over with need, desperate for release. That's when your teeth latched onto his neck, biting down so hard you nearly broke skin, and his body jerked under yours.

Once the shock wore off, Sumin slowly pushed away from the desk, eyes flickering from the new uneven line to you, your face still buried in his neck. Heat flushed your neck as you realized what you just did as he grabbed the back of your neck to pull your face away from his body, "Don't give me those puppy eyes, princess, you know what you did. And you know you have to be punished for misbehaving, right?"

진식 — JINSIK

It was a relatively chill night, and Jinsik was finally able to have a day off and wanted to spend the night before with you. So both of you were at your apartment, watching some cheesy romance movie. You were curled up into his side while his arms were wrapped around your body, holding you close. It wasn't until the sex scene came on that Jinsik started getting antsy, shifting in his spot every so often.

Now, you weren't oblivious to what was going on, but you loved to tease your poor boyfriend. His cheeks burned red, and you smirked as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, whining about you being mean. However, his hands started to trail the length of your body, and he started begging you to help him, his cock aching. It wasn't long after that all of your clothes were strewn about the floor, your hands pinning Jinsik's next to his head as you rolled your hips against his, relishing in his whimpers as your cunt squeezed around him.

Normally, Jinsik was pretty well behaved when you had sex, but something about tonight had him extra needy. Which in turn means he's trying to get you to do things. His hips bucked up into yours, followed by a choked whine when you put your full weight on him, pinning him down again. You gave him a firm warning as your lips trailed down his neck before finding purchase on his chest. Licking the skin around his nipple, you relished in the sweet sounds of his moans before biting down—hard.

Jinsik cried out, tears spilling from the corner of his eyes and staining the sheets underneath him. The pain mixed with pleasure had his body trembling, your name falling from his lips as he looked at you. You sat back up, rolling your hips against his and watching as his hands gripped at your thighs, begging for release, causing you to giggle, "Ah-ah baby, you're in no position to be making commands."

현우 — HYUNWOO

The only time it seemed like you and Hyunwoo ever got a chance to be alone was in the practice room after all the other employees left for the night. Neither of you could go to the other's dorm without fear of someone questioning you and your relationship. It wasn't like either of you made things exclusive, but it wasn't really a no-strings-attached situation either. You didn't really like it, but every time you'd bring it up to Hyunwoo, he'd just brush you off, and it was starting to get under your skin. Anger was slowly building, threatening to pop, making you snippy towards just about everyone—Hyunwoo included.

Hyunwoo, of course, was quick to catch it while he was trying to help you practice your moves for your next comeback, but you kept giving him attitude when he corrected you. He wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt, thinking that you were just tired, but as the night went on and you continued to push his buttons, he was about to snap. It wasn't until you made a comment about getting Junghoon's help instead that he snapped, grabbing your arm roughly and pinning your back against the mirror. Then, even with his cock buried deep in your throbbing cunt you still gave him lip, and he glared at you, placing his hand over your mouth and nose, muffling your snarky remarks and moans.

Your nails dug into his forearm, and you started to feel slightly lightheaded from the lack of oxygen. Balling your other hand into a fist, you hit his chest as he brought you close to your climax, body trembling. Yanking down on his wrist, you managed to pull his hand from your face, allowing you to inhale deeply, then you latched onto the skin of his hand right under his pinky. Your teeth threatened to break skin as Hyunwoo groaned in pain, hips stuttering and grip on the underside of your knee growing tighter.

"I see how it is, angel," He growled, pulling his hand from your mouth, not even bothering to watch as blood pooled from the wound, and wrapping his fingers around your throat. You gasped as he pulled your face closer to his, "Since you're so desperate to tell everyone about us, why not let them hear it?"

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