#p1harmony

“Wait, he’s never made you cum before?”

Your chopsticks freeze halfway up to your mouth that’s hung open awkwardly as you process the words that have just come out of Intak’s mouth. You look up from your bowl of noodles to see six pairs of eyes staring at you in varying levels of shock.

There’s a pause, and when no one moves to take this conversation in any other direction, you put down your chopsticks and close your mouth, clearing your throat as an embarrassed heat flushes high on your cheeks.

“Well, no,” you admit awkwardly. “I mean— yes. I have. By myself, I mean, just not by my ex or anyone else.”

You’re not sure how the conversation had diverged to you. One minute you were all talking over one of those reality dating shows Keeho had put on for everyone to watch over dinner (a strange choice, but whatever), then somehow the topic had shifted to first times and whether they were successful at bringing their partners to completion (this discussion was mainly between Theo, Keeho, and Intak), then someone was mentioning your name and asking you something you don’t remember, and you’d just made a throwaway comment about how, “He never did it for me anyway so this discussion is pointless to me,” to get them off your back (you were more focused on scarfing down your noodles), and now here you are.

“Wait,” Intak speaks again, blinking like his brain just couldn’t compute this piece of information. “So the guy that you were in a relationship with for two years,” he starts, then pauses to look at you, as if trying to make sure you were understanding the gravity of the situation, then continues, “has never made you come? Not once?”

You shake your head, pulling your lower lip between your teeth. It’s a little embarrassing, sure, but isn’t it normal for most women to not finish during sex?

“Not ever?” Keeho asks this time, his brows pulled up behind his fringe. “What about anyone you’ve ever been with. Ever.”

You drop your chopsticks into your bowl with a clatter. “No,” you say firmly. “Why is that so surprising?”

“Because it’s ridiculous,” Theo states easily, leaning back on the couch with his arms crossed.

You shrug. “I don’t see what the big deal is. Isn’t it normal to just fake it and move on?”

Intak makes a noise like he’s been severely offended. “No!” He cries. “I always make sure she comes. Always.”

You scoff in disbelief, shaking your head. The quiet ones, Jiung, Soul, and Jongseob, are still watching you like hawks, and you can tell from their eyes that they’re in accordance with the other three.

“There’s no way,” you say. You’ve been through the motions of sex before. It’s wildly uncomfortable, too slippery, and too rushed. “You’re telling me you can all make your girls’ finish?”

There’s a chorus of agreements from all of them, some more enthusiastic than others.

You blink, taken aback at the unity. “…Every time?”

Another round of assent and you’re left with the thought that maybe something’s just wrong with you.

“Maybe I just don’t like sex then,” you conclude, your brows pinching as you think back to the handful of times you’ve given yourself up to your ex partner and only come out of it regretful.

“That could be true.”

All eyes turn to Jiung, who’s sitting on the single chair leaned back casually, looking straight at you with a clinical eye that leaves you feeling a little too exposed. You squirm in your seat on the carpeted floor, grateful for the refuge in the slight coverage the coffee table provides you.

“But,” Jiung continues. “We’ve met the guy you were with. He didn’t exactly ooze generosity.”

“That’s true.” Jongseob’s voice pulls your eyes to where he’s sitting right across the table from you, hands braced on the floor behind him as he leans back. His eyes are calculating in their own way as they weigh on you. “If your experience was with him then I wouldn’t be too surprised.”

You fidget with your hands in your lap as your eyes flit over your members. “Well,” you start, then stop, mulling over your words for a moment. “Maybe there’s something wrong with me then.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you.” You almost flinch at Soul’s voice, sharper than you’re used to from him. He’s on the floor to your right, peering at you with wide, wondering eyes. “You said you’ve just never orgasmed with him, right? You can finish when it’s just yourself?”

You fluster at his blunt words but nod. “Yeah.”

“So it’s not like you can’t come or anything like that,” Keeho chimes in from the couch behind Jongseob. “Your ex just didn’t know how to treat you right.”

You pout, feeling a little affronted. “Hey, he wasn’t a bad person.”

“Bad in bed though,” Theo adds with a snicker.

You roll your eyes at him, picking up your chopsticks to have something to do with your hands. “I just can’t imagine coming from sex. It’s so… uncomfortable. Invasive.”

“Oh honey,” Keeho says, tone sympathetic. “He really didn’t know how to treat you right then. It doesn’t have to be invasive either. There’s so many more ways to come than just penetration.”

You stare at him, your brows climbing up your forehead. “There… is?” You knew of a couple methods but the way he says it makes you feel like you were missing out on a lot more than you thought.

Intak makes a noise like he’s just been punched by the words. “You don’t know?” He asks, like he’s truly horrified by your lack of knowledge. Then he looks at Theo beside him and rattles him by the arm. “Hyung, she doesn’t know!”

Theo shoves him off with a hand on his forehead. “Relax.” Then he turns back to you and his next words throw your brain into the void. “We could show you.”

There’s a palpable silence as those words hang in the air, leaving behind something heavy lingering in its wake.

“Taeyang,” Jiung scolds, turning to Theo with sharp eyes. “You can’t just spring something like that on her.”

“No, wait,” you find yourself saying. As daunting as whatever Theo has in mind seems, you can’t help but be curious. “I’m interested. Hypothetically.”

You can see everyone exchange looks, a weave of silent conversations that you ignore in favour of just looking at Theo, who holds your gaze back with a knowing smirk on his lips. He doesn’t say more though; he waits for you to steer the conversation.

“What—“ You start then stop again, clearing your throat when everyone’s eyes fall back to you. “Hypothetically, what would something like that entail?”

Theo leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, his smirk pulling wider. “Hypothetically,” he starts, a little teasing, and you falter under his stare. “We would each show you a different way to make you come. Prove to you all the ways that you can finish during sex and that you were missing out on with your ex.”

You blink at him as the words process. The thought of them showing you makes something crawl under your skin, something you’re not able to name. Your eyes flit over all them, all of them who are watching you carefully. “There’s six of you though.”

Theo raises a brow. “Yes?”

“You’re saying there’s six different ways?” You ask, trying to wrack your brain for all the other ways your ex has tried besides penetration and outer stimulation (which was more just poking around than anything). You’re not very adventurous on yourself either, so you come up empty. “Hypothetically,” you tack on as an afterthought.

“Well, hypothetically, we could keep that a secret until we get to show you.” Theo’s smirk is inching towards something more dangerous, something that makes your heart stutter. “Hypothetically,” he continues, tilting his head at you, “would you like us to show you?”

And suddenly, this doesn’t feel very hypothetical anymore. You can see it in the way they’re all just waiting for you to either take them up on this ‘hypothetical’ or put them out of their misery and brush off the conversation.

You think about it. Really think about it. You can’t deny the way all this talk has your body prickling with curiosity and heated anticipation at the thought of them showing you, whatever that might be.

You glance between them, your close friends of the past six years, the people you’ve practically grown up with, the ones you not only work with but call your own. Intak is leaned forward in morbid curiosity and hanging onto your every word, Jongseob is feigning nonchalance but you can see the faint blush on his cheeks, Keeho watches you with a heat that he doesn’t even bother to hide, Soul is more curious and earnest than anything, Jiung— though calm on the outside— looks like he’s ready to devour you with just his eyes, and Theo is an enigma you’re too scared to even try to decode. You can tell they’re all waiting for the word, whichever it may be. But you don’t feel scared by their anticipation despite the daunting way their gazes settle on you. You’re surprised to feel something pulling at your gut, something wanting and present.

But above all, you trust them with everything. You can trust them with something like this.

So with a shaky breath, you nod. “Yes.”

It’s like the scene in front of you pauses on a reel. No one breathes.

“Just hypothetically?” Theo asks you slowly.

“No,” you answer without hesitation. “Not just hypothetically.”

There’s a few sharp exhales like breaths that have been held in for too long, someone mutters a low curse from somewhere on your right, and the air shifts again into something heated with anticipation.

“Only if everyone is okay with it,” you add, because you don’t want to pull anyone into anything they don’t want just for your sake.

“Are you kidding me?” Intak scoffs, a boyish grin pulling on his face. “I may or may not have thought about this already before.”

Jiung reaches over Theo to smack Intak over his lack of decorum.

“It’s fine,” you say, a small, awkward smile pulling on your lips. You’re taken aback by Intak’s sudden confession, but it doesn’t deter you. It makes you even more curious to see just what he’s wanted with you. “I’m, uh, looking forward to what you guys have to show me. But I’m still not sure I believe that you guys can make me… you know.”

Jongseob smiles at you, leaning forward to lean his elbows on the coffee table. “Let us worry about that, okay?” His voice is lower, a little huskier, and it already has you a little flustered.

“Cute,” you hear Soul mumble under his breath from your right and you glance at him to see he’s staring at the flush on your cheeks.

You clear your throat, sitting up straight to regain some semblance of control over your body. “How do we do this?”

“We’ll make a list of what we’re going to do to you,” Keeho starts, making sure to let the words linger for a little just to see you squirm. “And then we’ll pick what we’re each best at so you can get the best of the best.” He glances around the room to gauge opinions. “Sounds good?”

Everyone agrees with more enthusiasm than you’re prepared for and you feel your heart start to thunder in your chest. Not from fear, but from excitement. If what they say is true, and they can get you to come without fail, you’re in for a night that could make up for all the mediocre sex in your life and open your eyes to things you might not even be aware of.

“That’s that then,” Jiung says as he pulls himself up to his feet and walks over to your direction. Your heart jolts as he leans down to pick up your bowl of abandoned noodles, and you feel a little ridiculous that you’re already so affected. Jiung’s eyes flicker over your face that’s a few inches from his, and the corner of his lips tick up for a split second. “Why don’t you wait for us in your room? We’ll figure everything else out.” His deep voice is hushed in a cadence that you can almost feel brush over your skin and leave goose flesh in its wake.

“Sure,” you say, cheeks heating when your voice cracks halfway.

You scamper up to your feet to evade his amused chuckle and rush towards the stairs leading up to your bedroom. 

Theo’s hand comes out to catch your arm before you can move past them, pulling you back. He’s standing now, looking down at you with a serious pinch of his brows. “Hey.” His voice is quieter, only for you to hear. “You’re really okay with this? It might be a lot for you to handle.”

You feel whatever nerves thrumming under your skin ease away at his concern. “I’m sure,” you say with a smile, squeezing his hand over your arm. “I trust you. I trust all of you.”

That eases the tension out of his shoulders and his frown melts into a smile. “Good,” he says, then his eyes flash into something darker and his smile appears sharper than it was a second. “Now go get yourself ready.” He leans in and breathes the next words practically on your lips. “And I promise you, you’re not leaving that room until you’ve come six times. And if the others fail, I’ll step in and make it up for them.”

You swallow, feeling the words sink to the base of your gut and fill it with fire. If just a few words can already push you towards ruin so quickly, you’re not sure what’ll happen when they actually get their hands on you.

𓆩⟡𓆪

You’re not sure how long you’ve been waiting with your heart in your throat and your limbs feeling like livewire. You sit at the head of your bed, back pressed to the headboard and knees pulled up to your chest.

You’re starting to wonder with each passing second just what you’ve signed up for. The nervous excitement is still there, of course, at the prospect of possibly being properly pleasured by someone else’s hand other than yours for a change but you have no idea what to expect. Your experience with sex didn’t measure up even a fraction to what you’d built up in your head and you just can’t imagine how your boys are possibly going to mend that disappointment.

But they seemed eager to show you otherwise, all of them. And you trust they’ll do well on their word even despite your lingering doubts.

So you take grounding breaths as you wait, sat comfy in a pair of sweats and a simple tee, until the handle to your door twists.

The door opens a fraction and Intak’s wide eyes peer in. “Can I come in?”

Your shoulders ease when you see that it’s just him and you wave him in with your hand. “Just you?” You ask, hoping only you can hear the waver in your voice.

“Just me,” he confirms, shutting the door behind him and making his way over to stand by the foot of the bed. “We decided on it just being a one on one thing. We didn’t want to overwhelm you with too much.”

You don’t even realize that was something you were worried about until you feel your chest loosen at the knowledge. “Oh,” you say with a grateful smile. “That’s good, actually. Thanks.”

He smiles back, soft and sweet. “Of course. This is supposed to be all about you. We wanna make sure you’re feeling good and not stressed out.” He tilts his head at you, a habit of his that you’ve always been endeared by. “How are you feeling?”

You bite down on your lip as you try to figure out how to put your feelings into words. “Fidgety? Nervous but… excited? I don’t really know what to expect, so I don’t know what to feel,” you admit sheepishly, then sit up straight with a sudden realization. “Wait, should I have changed into something prettier or…?”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “No, don’t worry about any of that. Keeping our clothes on will be just fine for this first… session, if that’s what we’re calling it.”

Your stomach flips when you realize that things are about to start and that Intak is here to be the first one to go. “Ah,” you say in realization, then frown. “Wait, clothes on?”

His sweet smile makes way to a smug smirk as he knees onto your bed and climbs on, settling to sit on his feet in front of you. “Yes,” he says, and you’re starting to realize how real everything is becoming with him sitting right in front of you. “Unless you wanted to see me with them off,” he adds with a cocky little grin.

You scoff at his flirty antics, something you’re all too familiar with. And the familiarity of it eases you down, surely something he’d meant for as he places a comforting hand on your ankle, rubbing slow circles there with his thumb.

“I didn’t make the rules,” you point out, feeling your body slowly settle under the small, soothing touch. “I don’t think I have any power here to decide.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” he purrs, then wraps the span of his hand around your ankle. “You have all the power here. We’re just here as vessels for your pleasure.”

Your brows raise as you bite down on your lip to smother your laugh. “That sounds awfully serious coming from you, Takki.”

But there’s no joke in the way Intak stares at you. Without warning, he yanks you forward by your ankle, pulling you flat on your back as he climbs over you, ignoring your yelp of surprise. He settles between your legs without delay and braces his hands on the bed on either side of your chest. He hovers over you, peering down at you with an intensity to his eyes you’ve seen him with only when it comes to figuring out complicated choreography.

“It is serious,” he tells you, low and smooth, and before you can respond his lips are on yours.

The kiss is slow and steady, more careful than you’d expect from Intak. But you find yourself melting into it with a soft sigh, your arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him down.

He settles down on his elbows as he presses deeper into the kiss, his body lowering down against yours. And that’s when you can feel it, the solid outline of his growing erection pressing against your thigh.

The weight of it against you shoots heat right to your core and makes you falter into the kiss. Curious, you push your leg up to press against the bulge and it gets a grunt out of his lips against yours.

He lifts up from the kiss, his pupils blown wide as he looks down at you with furrowed brows. “I wasn’t lying when I said I’ve thought about this before. Been wanting to do this for a long time now,” he says, his voice rough with desire.

He shifts his hips to line his erection right over you then presses firmly down, making you gasp at the pressure against your already throbbing core.

“You have?” You ask breathily when his words process. You roll your hips up to search for more of the pressure and Intak indulges you, rolling his hips down in a delicious grind that has your body bowing up the bed.

His hands move down to grab you by the hips and push them down against the bed, much to your dismay when it detaches you from the heat of him.

“Oh yeah,” he breathes, looking just as ruined by the sight of you as you’re starting to feel by him. 

He keeps one hand holding you down as the other slides under your shirt, warm as it slides up to your chest. His eyes flash when he finds you bare under the shirt and wastes no time to grasp the soft mound, making a stuttered breath fall from your lips as his finger pushes down on your sensitive nipple.

“And now I finally have my chance,” he mutters, dark eyes drinking up every twitch in your expression as his finger rolls over the stiffening peak, sending little sparks of pleasure from your chest down your spine. “I might not get to fuck you but I’ll take anything I can get.”

Before you can ask him just what it is he’s set out to do to you, he kisses you again. This time it’s fast, heated, impatient; everything you actually were expecting from him.

He wastes no time before he’s prodding into your mouth with his tongue. You accept him with a soft moan, a sound that has him pulling your nipple between his fingers and has another yelp rip from your throat that he drinks up with his persistent lips.

You didn’t realize just how quickly you could get turned on from just some kissing and a few careful touches. But you can feel the arousal pool in your gut and in your underwear.

To say you were surprised was an understatement, but that wasn’t on the forefront of your mind. All you were thinking was that you needed to feel more. 

As if he was reading your mind, Intak grinds down his clothed cock, fully hardened now, right into your needy heat.

You whine at the pleasure that rolls steadily through you, the sound drowned out by Intak’s soft breaths as he devours you whole with his tongue.

This already feels so much better than any night with your ex and you’re feeling a little high from it all. Your hips buck up in frantic little rolls that Intak meets with hard grinds of his own, sending steady shocks of pleasure through your lower body. 

His other hand slides up your shirt to join his other hand in kneading your breasts, the pressure spreading pleasure through your entire body as he continues to grind against you.

You can feel yourself getting heady already under Intak’s hands and you happily welcome it. You didn’t think it could be so easy to get you so strung up without even having to take off your clothes, but here you are.

You can feel the coil in your gut wind tighter with each press of Intak’s throbbing erection against your aching core, can feel the slick gathering in your folds. It has you whining into the frantic kiss and has your hands clawing into his biceps.

He pulls from the kiss with a wet smack, a string of saliva connecting his lips to yours as his mouth falls open to let heavy breaths pass through. He presses his forehead down to yours, his eyes fluttering as he tries to keep his focus intact while his hips keep rocking into yours.

“F-Feels good,” you whisper up to him, gasping at a particular harsh press. 

“Yeah?” He pants, using his hands to shove your shirt up above your chest. 

You hiss at the cool air that brushes over your sensitive nipples. Intak groans at the sight of you, his hips stuttering for a moment before they pick back up at a more frantic pace. He wastes no time to latch his mouth onto your nipple, his hand working the other one as he starts to swirl his tongue around the stiff bud.

You moan at the wet warmth of his tongue on the sensitive flesh, arching your chest further into his mouth. You didn’t think your chest was this sensitive, but it has your hips bucking eagerly up against his, every single sensation over your body climbing down and pinpointing down to your clit.

“Intak,” you gasp, whining sharply when he pops off your nipple and switches to the other one, flicking his tongue rapidly over it. 

You can tell by the way that his hips are starting to lose rhythm that he’s nearing his edge. And, surprisingly, you are too.

“Intak,” you try to warn him but he’s not listening, too far gone as he continues to mouth at your chest, eyes fluttering closed as he continues to chase his pleasure between your hips.

You bury your hand in his hair, pushing him further into you as you drive your hips sharply up against the hard ridge of his cock, and it takes just a few more hard presses of his erection squarely against your cunt for you to teeter on the edge.

Intak notices, and at the same time that he pinches your nipple with his hand, he bites gently down on the one in his mouth and tugs.

The sharp pleasure that bursts from your chest in tandem with a hard grind of his cock against your core has you tipping over the edge. You tense all over as your mouth falls open into a high whine, before your body jolts and trembles through your first orgasm.

Intak follows you right down, whimpering into your chest as his hips stutter through his own orgasm, giving a few more sharp grinds before his body goes slack, weight dropping fully onto you.

His head rolls on its side on your chest, your nipple popping out of his mouth as he heaves for breath. You lay there, twitching and reeling from your high.

A few moments of silence pass as you stare up at the ceiling, trying to even out your breaths and process the fact that Intak has just made you cum for the first time that wasn’t by your own hand.

Reluctantly, Intak lifts himself up and looks down at you with a crooked smile. “Well? Didn’t I say I never leave my girls unsatisfied?”

You let out a breathy laugh as you meet his twinkling eyes. “Uh huh.” Just with a little bit of grinding, he managed to hold true to his words. You’re both impressed with him, disappointed with your ex for not even holding a candle, and disappointed with yourself for doubting him. “That was… better than I thought.”

He hums, leaning down to peck your lips before he pulls himself up and off of you despite the whine you let out when his warmth is ripped away from you.

“Sorry,” he says sheepishly as he adjusts himself in his sweats. He’s wearing a dark pair so it’s difficult but you can still see the darker shade of the wet patch over his crotch. It has a pathetic shock of heat pulse through your core at the thought that that was there because of you. “I can’t stay for long. The others are waiting.”

“Right,” you say as you fix your shirt, pulling it down over your chest. You’d nearly forgotten there was a line of boys out there in the living room waiting for their turn to make you eat your words. “…I don’t stand a chance, do I?”

He chuckles at that, turning to walk through the door. “Not at all,” he says, turning his head and throwing you a wink over his shoulder. “Good luck.”

Then he’s gone, and you’re left laying there wondering who’s next— what’s next. It almost frightens you how quickly you find that tightness in your gut livening up again as you go through all the possibilities in your head.

You’re not left wondering for long before Jongseob steps through the door, looking pretty normal for the most part. But you see the light shake in his hand as he holds up the large bottle of water he brought in with him.

“Jiung’s orders,” he says as he walks over to your side and uncaps the bottle. He doesn’t hold your gaze for long before his eyes flit to the bottle he’s holding out for you.

You feel a warm wave of familiar fondness for your maknae as you take the bottle of him, feeling a little relieved that it’s him instead of someone like Jiung or Theo. You’re not quite ready for whatever that might be just yet. Or Keeho for that matter.

You pull yourself up to sit, wincing from the sensitivity between your hips that still lingers. “Thanks.” You take the bottle from him and drink, grateful for the wash of cold as it soothes your heated insides.

He’s a little awkward on his feet as he shifts on them, waiting for you to put the bottle aside on the nightstand before he speaks up. “You doing okay?”

You huff a little laugh as you lean against the headboard, looking up at him. “Uh huh. Just didn’t think I’d be proven so wrong, so quickly.”

He raises a brow at you as a teasing smile pulls at his lips. “Oh, so is our little experiment done then? We’ve proven you wrong already?”

“Nope,” you say, finding a surprising sense of confidence in his presence. “You guys promised me six ways. I better get six ways.”

His smile widens into a grin and you get a glimpse of his cute little snaggle tooth. His nerves seem to ease away as he falls into the rhythm of your familiar back and forth. “One orgasm in and you’re already calling the shots?” He taunts, climbing onto the bed and bracing himself with his knees on either side of your thighs. He hovers over you, taking your chin to lift your gaze up to him. “Bold. I like that on you.”

You blush at his sudden change in demeanour but you can’t lie; it’s spurring your spent body back to life quicker than you’d expected.

“What about you, Seobie?” You ask, placing your hands on his thighs before sliding them up to his hips over the smooth fabric of his track pants. “Where’s all this confidence coming from?”

His thumb brushes against your lower lip as a small smirk plays on his lips. He’s the picture perfect image of cool and collected, just like he is on stage. It’s a hell of a sight up close to you under the dim of your lamp instead of flashy lights. It feels more personal, like he crafted this confidence just for you.

“I guess you bring it out in me,” he admits, pressing his thumb against the plush of your lip.

You let your tongue flick out and kitten-lick against the tip of his finger, letting it linger there for a bit. His eyes darken and he takes a careful breath in before letting it out in a sigh that sounds a bit strained.

“If only I got to take my time with you,” he mutters under his breath, and the words leave you wondering. 

“Is there a time limit?” You ask him when his hand falls to the side of your neck. 

“Yeah,” he says, brushing his thumb up the hollow at the side of your neck. “15 minutes.”

You stare at him for a moment. “…That’s it? That doesn’t feel like enough.”

He grins in response. “Well Intak did it in time. You don’t think the rest of us can?”

“Well, no— I don’t know,” you huff, a little flustered. “What happens if we don’t finish in time?”

“Then you don’t get to come and I get a bruised ego,” he says then drops both his hands to your waist. He slips his hands under your shirt then slides them up your already tingling skin, pulling the shirt up as they go. “We can’t have that, can we?”

Electricity and heat zip down your spine in tandem when his hands don’t stop and your shirt lifts up over your chest, exposing your skin to the cool air. You lift your arms up to make it easier for him to pull the shirt completely off of you.

You sit there, half-bare under Jongseob’s prying eyes as he tosses the shirt aside somewhere on the floor. You can see him tenting against his pants as he shuffles off of you, his hands reaching for the waist of your sweats.

“May I?” He asks politely but it’s undercut by the way his eyes remain locked on your exposed breasts. 

You don’t feel shy under his gaze though. You almost feel revered by his appreciative stare. You lift your hips in silent assent and he takes the cue to slip the sweats off of your legs and tosses them to join your shirt.

He’s quick to pry apart your legs and settle on his knees between them, his eyes finding a new target to lock onto; the wet patch on your thin cotton panties. 

“Shit,” he mutters under his breath, reaching to grab himself over his pants and squeeze as an attempt to quell his arousal. 

You flush under his attention now, feeling a little too exposed. Your legs twitch to close but he keeps them apart with a hand on your knee.

He brings the hand down, and with a feather light touch, he runs his thumb against the thin fabric, sliding a line of pressure up your centre that has your walls fluttering. You hiss when his thumb finds your clit and presses down, still a little sensitive from your first climax.

“You’re so wet,” he muses before moving his thumb down and pressing against where your entrance would be. He groans at the wet sound from the pooled mix of your release that Intak left behind and the arousal that’s starting to leak under Jongseob’s ministrations.

“Jongseob,” you whine, pressing your hips up in search of more than just light touches. 

He clicks his tongue, looking up at you with a lazy smirk. “Impatient. You’re already eager for more? What, Intak wasn’t enough for you?”

You shudder at the way his words chastise you just the right amount to have you needy for his approval. But you don’t want to give in that easily. “Maybe,” you say, rolling your hips up again to press against his hand. He doesn’t pull away. “But isn’t it your whole job to give me what I want?”

He retaliates with a harsh press of his thumb against your clit with a scary precision given that he can’t even see it. It has you yelping and jerking away from his hand. “You’re lucky I’m not Taeyang,” he says, and the warning hits you in the gut. “Or that mouth on you wouldn’t get off so easily.”

You don’t get a chance to interrogate him before he’s hastily shoving aside the fabric of your panties and exposing your heated folds to the cool air. Jongseob squeezes himself again with a low grunt when he sees the slick mess there. 

“You’re drenched,” he huffs, under trance by the sight of you for a moment before he snaps out of it and swiftly pulls off his shirt, leaving your mind blanking momentarily. 

You rarely see him shirtless, but when you do, it’s a treat to see. Especially now.

Then he’s shoving down his pants and boxers down to his thighs and grasping himself, stroking tightly as he watches your gushing folds, and your mind goes blank again.

He’s pretty; thin but long and curved and flushed at the tip, milky pearls of arousal leaking at the head with each drag of his fist. 

You’re snapped back to focus when he grabs your thighs and pulls you down on your back, lowering himself between your hips.

“Wait,” you say quickly, and Jongseob pauses immediately to look up at you, just letting himself hover while he waits.

“Yeah?” He asks, brows furrowing in concern.

You swallow, a little embarrassed and underprepared. “Are you… going to put it in?”

The concern washes away and he chuckles fondly. “No. That’s not for nowt,” he says before he lowers his body down to brace on his elbows on either side of you. Then you feel the heft of his cock press down on your folds, a pressure that has you both sighing. “Just this,” he says, lowering his eyes on yours.

You feel him throbbing against your clit, hot and solid against your sensitive folds. It feels nice, but you’re still left confused. “Just this?” You ask, the doubt clear on your face. You don’t see how you could possibly come from that. 

But the smirk that grows on Jongseob’s lips tells you otherwise. “Just this.”

Then he shifts his hips so he slides down your folds, and when the head of his cock catches against your clit and sends a wave of pleasure through your core, you think, oh, that’s how.

His smirk stretches to a lazy grin when he sees the realization in your eyes and he drags himself back up, the friction giving you another shock of pleasure. “You like that?” He asks, then takes a sharp breath in through his teeth when he drags back down. 

You nod, your hands clutching onto the wiry muscles of his bicep. 

His movements are slow and methodical; each drag meant to place pressure against you just right and string you up slow and steady, a stark contrast to the frantic chase with Intak.

“Did that asshole ever take his time with you?” He asks you through grit teeth and it takes a second for you to process that he’s talking about your ex.

“N-No,” you answer through a gasp when his tip prods sharply into your clit on a thrust up. “H-He wasn’t really… ah, patient.”

He clicks his tongue. “No wonder he couldn’t make you come,” he mutters bitterly before he shoves himself off of you. 

You’re about to protest but then he’s sliding your panties down your hips, cursing at the way strings of slick connect to it as he pulls them off your legs. He doesn’t let himself linger on the sight of you fully exposed as he gathers both of your legs and throws them over one of his shoulders. Before you can question him, he’s sliding himself in between your thighs, right on top of your folds, and using the slick mess there to start fucking your thighs in a steady rhythm, his tip pushing deliciously against your clit with each thrust.

You moan, deep breaths falling through your lips at the stimulation. The sight of him poking through your thighs and the hood of your cunt with each thrust leaves you feeling heady. “Fuck, Seobie,” you whimper. You watch the way he leaks from his slit, dripping down onto your pelvis and pooling there. 

His hips falter when he hears the name fall from your lips, then braces himself with his arms around your legs, then starts to fuck against your cunt with a fast pace that has you both panting.

You can feel the coil in your gut wind tight again with each drag of his hard length over your throbbing clit. The sight of his face, flushed and blissed out with hooded eyes fixed on your face, has your head swimming. You’ve never seen him look that intense before, even when it comes to work, and it makes you falter realizing just how different this side of him is from what you’re used to. 

It’s a thrilling revelation that has you quickly approaching your second climax.

“Seob,” you say through a hitched breath. 

“Yeah?” He asks, getting a dark little grin on his face as he tilts his head back, eyes fluttering shut at the heaven between your thighs. “Gonna come for me already?”

“Yes,” you gasp, your hands fisting into the sheets as your body bucks up with each impact of his rough thrusts.

“Gonna make you cum,” he says through grunts, though you’re not sure if he’s talking to you anymore. “Gonna make you cum— unlike that bastard. Couldn’t even— fuck— couldn’t even touch you right. Probably couldn’t even find your clit— the fucker.”

He’s muttering the words to himself as his thrusts grow faster and more disjointed. But it’s doing nothing less to bring you over the edge.

His dark eyes fix on you again with something akin to bitterness among the desire. “Come for me then,” he says, then adjusts so the head of his cock angles to drive right into your clit with each sharp, pointed thrust, sending burning pulses of pleasure with each push. “Come for me like you never came for him.”

Your second orgasm hits you before you know it and you come with a yell of his name and your body arching off the bed. Jongseob follows after with a few more frantic thrusts, spilling ropes of hot release over your stomach.

He doesn’t stop— he keeps going, drawing you both down from your highs before rocking to a slow stop just before he can drive you into overstimulation. He keeps your legs hugged to his chest as he recovers, breathing heavily as his eyes take in the sight of you painted with his release.

You’re not sure if it’s your post orgasmic haze dreaming it up but you think you see a hint of possession with the way he eyes you. You don’t get to dwell on it before he presses a kiss to the side of your calf and slowly releases you.

It’s when he’s cleaning off your stomach with his shirt after having fixed himself up that you realize you haven’t gotten to kiss him.

“Jongseob,” you say, still splayed out on your back and stealing back your breaths. 

He pauses and looks at you with his brows raised. “Hm?”

“Kiss me.”

The sudden request has him blinking to process and then blushing abashed, like he hadn’t just come on your stomach. “Oh. You want to?”

“No,” you say flatly. “That’s why I asked.”

He smiles sheepishly before he leans down and presses his lips to yours in a sweet, short kiss. You hum in content when he pulls back, smiling up at him. “Thank you,” you say, then tap his chin playfully. “Better than anything he’s ever done for me, combined.”

That has him blushing even brighter and he looks away with a shy little laugh. He finishes wiping you down then pulls the blanket that’s been shoved to the edge over you, giving you some cover before he goes.

“Do I really have to worry about Taeyang?” You ask him before he closes the door behind him.

Jongseob looks back at you and gives you a grin that does nothing to ease your worries. “You’ll just have to wait and see,” he says, then shuts the door behind him.

You groan to yourself, dropping your head back on the pillow. You should’ve gone into this by making them tell you all of their plans in detail so you wouldn’t have to be kept on your toes. But you can’t deny that it does make this more exciting.

Because even though you’ve already come twice, you have to squeeze your legs shut to soothe the way your core starts to spur back to life at just the possibility of the kind of danger that Theo might bring with him.

It’s Soul’s soft voice that pulls your eyes from the ceiling and towards him as he steps into the room a few minutes later.

“Hi,” he says as he makes his way over. He looks— normal. Nothing off the ordinary; no nerves, no eagerness, just plain intrigue as he peers at you laid out under the blanket. He wastes no time to jump onto the bed and sit on his knees by your legs.

“Hi,” you reply fondly, watching his hand as it lands on your covered knee and just holding there as a simple form of physical connection. A common occurrence with him, and it's no different even in this situation. Everything about Soul, everything that he does, always has you feeling endeared towards him.

“Are you tired yet?” He asks, round eyes flickering over the shape of you under the covers. 

“Yes,” you answer, but then think otherwise as you take stock of yourself. “No. Eh, I don’t know.”

That gets a little giggle out of him, his thumb digging gently into the notch in your knee. “I hope not. There’s still a lot more planned for you.”

You let out a slow breath at the reminder. “Yeah,” you pause, then look over at him. Soul has always been an honest one, so you take your shot. “Are you going to tell me what you’re going to do?”

He gives you a simple nod, then says, “I’m going to eat you out.”

Your face burns at the bluntness but you can’t say you didn’t expect it. Though it seems like there was no rule to keep things hidden from you; Intak and Jongseob probably just wanted to see you squirm. 

Your eyes fall to his pretty pink lips and you’re already envisioning them on you. Even knowing what’s about to happen, you’re still just as on edge as you were with the others.

His hand shifts to grab the edge of the blanket that lay by your side, not yet pulling. “Is that okay?” He asks you, polite as ever.

You’d never imagined Soul, the innocent looking boy you've smothered with your affections for years now, to be here before you, asking you if you’re okay with him making you come on his tongue. It’s disorienting enough to leave you craving it.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” you say, hoping you don’t sound as eager as you feel.

But Soul has an eerie way of reading people. He catches on, you can see it in the twinkle of his eye, and with an excited grin, he pulls the blanket off you.

You have to resist the urge to cover yourself by digging your hands into the sheets. Soul’s eyes practically sparkle as he looks over you, a little like he’s caught in a trance. 

“Pretty,” he mumbles quietly, like it wasn’t meant to be said aloud.

You squirm when all he does is stare for a few more moments. You nudge your knee against his leg to pull him out of his daze and he spurs back to life, shuffling to kneel between your legs, his hands crooking under your knees to push them up and hold them apart.

You squirm some more when his eyes lock onto the wet mess between your legs and his tongue darts out to lick his lips.

“Shota,” you whine, nudging your foot against his arm. “Don’t just stare.”

He giggles but doesn’t move his eyes. “Sorry,” he says as he climbs down onto his chest, pulling your knees over his shoulders. His lips hover just over your core, breaths brushing over you and sending prickling sensations through you as he speaks. “You’re just so pretty. I can’t help it.”

You swallow back the moan that bubbles in your throat at his words. “Wait,” you say before he can do anything else.

He looks up at you now, brows raised. “Hm?”

“Can you take your shirt off?” You’re feeling a little too exposed with him fully clothed and you very much not. But also, the sight of Soul shirtless is a treat. It would be a shame to let those muscles he takes such good care of go to waste in a moment like this.

He’s smiling despite the blush that climbs high on his pale cheeks. He pulls himself up, yanks his shirt off in one go, before quickly settling back into position.

You mourn the sight of his abs being so quickly hidden away but then his arms are coming around your legs to hold you down, one hand settling palm-down on your lower stomach, and you can’t complain anymore when you’ve got his muscled arms in your view in all their veiny glory.

He laughs softly at your appreciative eyes. “Better?” He asks with a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh.

You sigh at the warmth it spreads up your leg. “Very.”

The smile remains on his lips as he trails his way down your thigh with warm kisses. You feel teeth graze lightly against your skin with each press that his tongue flicks out to soothe over, effective in the way it has you squirming where you lay as he inches closer to your waiting heat.

But just before he can reach it, he switches over to the other leg and you’re left sighing in frustration, your hips bucking up without your permission.

You feel his amused giggles against your thigh as he gives it the same attention as the other. 

But as you watch him, so intent in the way he winds you up slowly just like Intak and Jongseob have done, you’re left to wonder just how much you’ve been missing out on. Being tended to so carefully, it makes you feel a little floaty. 

Before you realize it your hand lifts from where you’d dug them in the sheets by your side and reaches to slide into his soft blond hair.

His eyes flutter at the touch and he abandons your skin in favour of leaning into the touch for a moment but you can’t complain, not when he turns his head to press a kiss to your palm. It has a warmth bloom inside your chest, snug and soothing.

But then the warmth shoots right down to your gut when he turns and attaches his lips to your clit without warning.

You hiss at the sudden pressure, your fingers digging into his scalp. You glare weakly into the mischievous glint in his eyes as he looks up at you.

“Still sensitive,” he says against your clit, making you twitch.

“No shit,” you huff, breaking into a moan when his tongue flits out and starts to press firm circles around the bud. Your body tenses as your mouth falls open with harsh breaths, your hand tightening in his hair.  

Soul takes in every shift in your expression with his eyes as he drags his tongue down before letting it circle around your entrance.

He groans at the taste of you on his tongue, the vibrations sending you whimpering. He abandons his careful ministrations in favour of flattening his tongue against you and drinking up every bit of the mess that’s been left behind from your previous encounters.

Your hips push up to grind against his face but his hand on your stomach keeps you easily pinned down as he has his way with you.

Breathy moans from your lips spill out from the rapid flicks of his tongue against you and the way his little grunts spread little embers of sensation right through your core.

You only just notice the way his own hips are grinding into the mattress and the knowledge that he’s that turned on from just pleasuring you has your head reeling.

The blunt tip of his tongue pushes against your entrance, but it doesn’t stop this time; it pushes in with ease and leaves you gasping. 

“Sh-Shota!” Your hand pushes down on his head of its own volition, trying to push him as deep in as he can go.

You feel it deeper than you expect it, the wet muscle prodding and sliding against your pulsing walls. When he groans, you feel it inside you.

His arms can’t restrain the way you’re squirming anymore with how hard your body’s starting to tremble. Every sensation feels like it’s dialed above ten with sensitivity. You don’t feel uncomfortable to have something breaching inside of you like all those times before with your ex; it actually makes you feel relieved and not like you’re being invaded. And you feel like you’ll lose your mind if it doesn’t stay in, doesn’t move.

So when you start to roll your hips up to fuck up against his tongue, Soul lets you, and pushes his tongue in tandem with your movements.

And when the tip of his nose rubs right against your clit with every movement, your control is gone.

You’re not sure what sounds are leaving your mouth but you don’t care, you just keep chasing the pleasure, keep fucking yourself up on his tongue, practically riding his face.

You start to fear you’re suffocating him and when you try to pull back, Soul buries himself right back into you. He’s whining against you, his eyes lidded and glossed over as he drowns himself in your cunt, and the rocking bed reminds you that he’s just as into this as you are.

It’s the combination of that, the pussy-drunk look on his face, and the way his tongue caresses your walls with each thrust that has your thighs clamping down on his head as you ride out your third orgasm right on his face.

Soul’s body shudders with a loud moan into you as you come around his tongue and he drinks you right up, not letting a single drop go to waste. He licks you through the high before he detaches from you with a soft kiss to your clit that does nothing to ease the tremors still rocking through you.

He lifts his head and you nearly moan at the sight of him; cheeks flushed, lower face drenched with you and eyes glazed over, looking practically drunk off of you and ready to devour you whole again.

“Jesus, Shota,” you mutter, having to raise your eyes to the ceiling to keep yourself from losing your mind again at just the sight of him like that between your thighs.

He responds by climbing up your body and kissing you eagerly.

You tense, taken aback by the sudden taste of yourself but you’re quickly coaxed into the kiss by his eager lips and tongue. You melt into the kiss, snaking your arms around his shoulders and pulling him down on you. He follows, pressing every inch of himself against you. 

You’re stopped short when you feel the half hard length of him pressing on your thigh along with a noticeable dampness on his shorts against your bare skin.

You pull back from the kiss, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Did you… come from that?”

He doesn’t even look the least bit embarrassed as he nods and dives right back for your lips.

You’re powerless to stop him; too boneless to do anything but you can’t say you want him to stop. He dives eagerly into your mouth again and you meet him with a languid pace of your own, not that he minds.

You can feel your mind start to float away again as his hands eagerly wander over your body, grabbing and kneading every curve of your flesh as they pass, paying special attention to your chest.

He’s hardening quickly against your thigh as he eagerly bucks his hips against you, seemingly lost in his mind just seeking out any bits of pleasure.

You reach down for his erection, to help him out like he’s helped you, until he’s yanked up off you. 

You mourn the loss with a panicked noise, trying to reach to drag him back to you. But your hands drop right back down when your eyes clear and you see Keeho holding Soul back with an arm around his throat.

Soul’s hands fly up to Keeho’s forearm as he blinks out of his own haze and comes into realization of what’s happening. His face flushes when he sees Keeho, who looks annoyed but no less amused. “Hyung,” he croaks, a little nervous.

Keeho raises a brow at him, a scolding look. “You’re way past your time, Shota,” he states before snapping those piercing, heated eyes to you.

Your heart jolts when you see the way his pupils are blown open in a heavy desire that pushes your breaths back down your throat.

“And you’re stealing mine,” Keeho adds, all amusement gone as his voice deepens into a threat.

Keeho releases Soul and Soul quickly scampers off the bed, grabs his shirt, and practically runs out of the room without another word.

But your eyes are stuck under the heavy weight of Keeho’s and you feel your body thrumming with a fresh wave of nerves.

His lips quirk up into a small smirk but there’s no mirth there. “Having fun?” He asks as he climbs onto the bed, on his knees so he hovers over your trembling body. When you don’t respond, he clicks his tongue. “I asked you a question, pretty girl.” The implication of what might happen if you don’t answer settles dauntingly in your head.

“Yes,” you quickly answer, and he smiles as he moves to lift your legs before settling to sit between them. You tense at the thought of picking right back up without a chance to recover from Soul. “W-Wait, I need some time.”

“Too bad,” he says easily as he reaches over to grab one of your pillows. “That’s something I don’t have right now.”

Without your control, your body shuffles away from him, like it’s trying to protect itself from the danger behind Keeho’s words. But his hand clamps down on your thigh and he pulls you easily back towards him.

“Where you going, pretty?” He asks you with a sly grin that has you squirming. “Don’t worry. You won’t be complaining in a few minutes.” He pats the underside of your ass. “Up.”

Your brows furrow. “What?”

He sighs before he hooks his arm under your waist and lifts you easily, shoving the pillow he grabbed under your hips before dropping you back down.

The way he’s able to handle you so easily has your stomach flipping and your eyes locking onto the way the material of his shirt stretches around his bicep as it flexes when he moves.

He notices your leering and grins, using his hands to push your legs apart. This new angle, hips propped up on the pillow for better access, has you feeling even more exposed. Your legs try to close on their own but Keeho quickly pushes them apart, clicking his tongue. “Keep ‘em apart for me,” he says, leaving you no room to disobey, so you don’t.

His eyes lock onto your cunt, and if possible, his gaze darkens. “Cute,” he says, glancing up at you. “Just like the rest of you.”

You avert his gaze, flustered, and he chuckles fondly. You’re not sure where all your confidence has gone. You suppose it’s different with Keeho, your leader, as opposed to your younger members.

“Cute,” he repeats before pressing his palms to the inside of your thighs, heavy and warm. “Have you taken anything inside yet?”

You swallow, feeling a little embarrassed to have to say the words aloud but you’ve been laid bare and exposed to your friends in so many ways already so it really shouldn’t feel so awkward anymore. Yet still. 

“Shota’s tongue,” you answer in a thin voice, and he hums in acknowledgement. 

“Did it feel good?”

You take in a shaky breath, your walls clamping around nothing like they’re remembering the feel of Soul’s tongue stretching them.

Keeho notices the way you flutter and chuckles. “That’s a yes then.” His palms start to slide down a path on the insides of your thighs slowly. “Has it ever felt good like that before? Having anything inside?”

You can’t bring yourself to say it, so you shake your head no.

The look in his eyes softens as his palms rest just outside of your heat. “Everyone treating you well so far?” He asks you, rough voice dulled into something gentler.

Your lips are helpless to the small smile that tugs on them; even now, Keeho upholds his leader role. He’s always been the one to look out for you and it puts you at ease to know that it’s no different now.

“Very,” you answer honestly. “Better than I could’ve imagined.”

“Good,” he says, mirroring your smile and leaning down to press a soft kiss to your knee. “This whole thing’s been about showing you how you should be treated. Sounds like we’re on the right track.”

You hum when his hands gently knead the flesh of your inner thighs. “Yeah. Guess I was wrong to think— fuck!”

Your thoughts as yanked right out of your head when Keeho pushes a thick finger inside of you all the way to the hilt in one smooth slide.

You look up at him with wide eyes. “Keeho!”

The grin on his lips is careless and predatory as he watches the way his finger sinks into you so easily. “Sorry baby, but I don’t have that much time left thanks to Shota.” He keeps his finger still as his other hand comes down and presses the thumb lightly against your clit, making you jolt. “Good thing you’re so sensitive.”

That’s all he says before he starts to pump his finger into you while his thumb circles your clit in quick, tight circles.

The touch to your clit feels more painful than pleasurable from the sensitivity, and it has you trying to buck away as high, frantic whines leave your lips, but Keeho is quick to hold you down with his forearm.

“Shh baby,” he whispers, pressing another kiss to the inside of your trembling knee as he continues to abuse your cunt with his quick pace. “It’ll feel better soon.”

And he’s right, because even though it burns, the pain slowly embers away into a pleasure that has you bucking up to his finger rather than away.

Keeho, who’s watching your expressions with a laser focus, grins when your features smooth down with pleasure. “That’s it, good girl,” he whispers and the words go right to your head and fill it with a hazy fog. “So good for holding out. Think you can take another one for me?”

Your breaths come out with little whines as you nod, eyes starting to go bleary.

“Say it for me,” he urges gently. “Need to hear you, pretty.”

You blink rapidly as you try to push the word through the fog in your head and out of your mouth. “Y-Yes,” you breathe, voice weak. “Can— ngh— take another.”

You feel his finger inside of you slow then feel the blunt tip of another start to press in with the next thrust. Just the two fingers feel almost overwhelming, a rougher feel than Soul’s tongue, but your walls, relaxed from three orgasms, take him in without protest.

Keeho’s thumb on your clit falters when he sees how easily you take him in. “That’s a good girl,” he coos, then pushes both fingers as far as they’ll go.

You whimper, feeling them so deep inside you, deeper than anything you’ve felt. And you’re left wanting more.

“More,” you plead, your hips rolling up to feel them press deeper despite already pushed all the way in. 

You think you see Keeho’s eyes flash with hunger but your mind is far too gone right now to pay close attention. 

“Fuck,” he grunts under his breath. “I’m gonna need you to myself sometime.”

Then he’s fucking his fingers into you relentlessly, his thumb spurring back to life over your clit to match the reckless pace.

You’re thrashing and moaning unabashedly, though you don’t have much control over any of your reactions anymore. Your hips buck up pathetically to meet his pace but he’s far too fast for you to keep up with. He has you feeling like liquid fire as he takes you apart with just his fingers and you can tell there’s no way you’ll last even the next three minutes, far too sensitive to every stimulation.

Then he does something you don’t quite understand. He stops, curls his fingers inside you, then resumes in a way that has the tips of his fingers abusing a spot inside of you that has you feeling the fire all over your body, has you arching off the bed as you scream out his name.

“That’s it,” he whispers, doubling down and pumping his fingers even faster.

But now there’s a new feeling in your gut, something you’re not familiar with at all and something strangely like you might be releasing things you very much don’t want to.

Your hands claw at Keeho’s arm that holds you down, trying to push him off but he’s like iron. “K-Keeho!” You cry through a trembling voice, trying to warn him with wide eyes.

But he doesn’t stop, keeps his heated gaze on your panicked face. “Don’t fight it,” he tells you. His fingers are relentless against that spot inside of you and has you barreling to something much faster than you’re prepared for. “Just give into it. I got you, baby. Come for me.”

That’s when it happens. Liquid, a lot of it, spraying out of you as your body jerks violently through your orgasm.

This one pierces through you harder than the others, electric fire that has your vision white and mind blank for how long, you can’t tell, but you just know that you’re gone. 

It takes you a while to piece yourself whole, barely though. When your vision slowly strings itself back together, it’s to the sight of Keeho staring down at you, wide-eyed and slack-jawed and soaked from his chin to his shirt to his forearm with his fingers still buried in you.

You’re struck with the terrifying thought of what you might have just done and you feel yourself grow cold with mortification.

“Oh my god,” you whisper, feeling tears prickle at your eyes as you try to scramble away from him. “I’m sorry, shit, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what just—“

But before you can get far, Keeho grabs your hips and pulls you right back to him, leaning over to crush his lips to yours in a hard, searing kiss.

You yelp in pain at the hard clash of teeth and you barely get to process the kiss at all before he pulls back enough to mumble into your lips. “You just squirted,” he says, like he can’t quite believe it himself.

You blink up at him as he stares you down like he wants to ruin you all over again. You had no idea that you could even do that, or that it could be brought out of you so quickly.

Keeho grins at your shock before sealing his lips back over yours, swallowing your little whine of surprise. “I’m keeping you,” he mutters into the kiss as he digs his teeth into your lip. “Jiung can go fuck off, I’m gonna make you squirt for me again.”

You don’t get to protest that you can’t until another voice behind Keeho intercepts.

“Can I now?”

It’s Jiung’s voice, deep and irritated, as you hear it close in.

Your eyes fly open to see Jiung stood over you two by the bed, his hands shoved into his pockets. He doesn’t look happy. He looks impatient, brows furrowed and jaw clenched. 

Keeho still doesn’t pull away from you; his fingers dig deeper into your hips and he kisses you more insistently like he’s trying to take as much as he can before you’re taken away from him.

“Keeho,” Jiung says in a tone that promises threat. It’s a tone that does dangerous things to your brain.

Keeho pulls back from your lips reluctantly, gaze locked onto you as he tells Jiung, “She squirted,” like it’s pertinent information.

It must be, because you see Jiung’s hard expression falter with shock before settling down into something more intense.

“Okay,” he responds slowly. “Now move.”

Keeho rolls his eyes but slowly pulls himself up to his knees, reluctant to let you go. You can see him straining against his sweats and realize with a start that he hasn’t come.

“You haven’t…” You start but break off when both of their eyes fall on you. 

Keeho shakes his head with a lazy grin. “Don’t worry about me.” He pauses then turns to Jiung. “Actually, can I stay and watch?”

Jiung doesn’t hear him, he’s too busy taking in the mess that is you. You can practically feel the weight of his gaze drag down your skin like a tangible force.

“Hm?” He asks, distracted. When he processes the words, he pulls his eyes off of you but it looks like it takes him great effort to. 

Keeho rolls his eyes and adjusts himself with his hand, wincing a little. “Mind if I stay?”

Jiung watches him quietly, considering, before he looks back at you. “That’s up to her.”

You freeze under both of their gazes. As much as the thought intimidates you, you can’t help but feel thrilled by it. Besides, you would feel a little guilty sending Keeho off without any relief even if he can handle it on his own. Everyone else has finished with you, so it would only be fair.

“Fine by me,” you concede, and Keeho lights up.

Jiung interjects before Keeho can celebrate too early. “You can’t interfere,” he says sternly, then points to the reading chair in the corner of the room. “Go sit there.”

“So bossy,” Keeho muses but he’s still grinning as he clambers off the bed and makes his way to his assigned spot. “Just pretend I’m not even here.”

A hard task, considering the fact that you can still see him at the edge of your vision and he has a perfect view of the scene. But the concept of a third party still has your head spinning in a new direction.

Your attention is dragged back to Jiung who climbs onto the bed and sits himself at the end with crossed legs. You pull yourself to sit up on shaky limbs, still recovering from your intense climax, folding your legs over your chest for some semblance of cover.

You’re grateful that Jiung doesn’t look like he’s ready to pounce anytime soon, eager for the chance to recover for whatever he might have in store for you.

That makes you wonder what it is that Jiung chose for his turn. You’re well aware of his dislike for physical contact so you’re not sure how to picture him in this setting.

Though the way his dark eyes settle on you, ready to tear you apart with just his gaze alone, has you questioning everything you know about him.

“You haven’t been drinking your water,” he says plainly, and even just that simple observation, the thought of him being upset with you in any capacity, keeps you on your toes.

It’s his voice, you think, that drives you crazy; a deep timbre that invades every corner of your head and settles at the base of your chest. Like it crawls everywhere around you and holds you down under its submission without your say.

You snap out of your trance when he narrows his eyes impatiently at you, flushing. “Oh.” You look over at the bottle that remains nearly full.

Looking at it makes you realize just how parched you are so you snatch it and swig down nearly half the litre. You think you might hear Jiung mutter something along the lines of, “Told you idiots to make sure she stays hydrated,” to the side of the room.

You place the water back down, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. You feel better despite the physical weight of your body trying to lull you down but your mind is still wide awake and on high alert.

You turn your attention back and see that Jiung is still watching you intently, now leaning back casually on his palms. The silence has you itching to break it and ask him about the question that’s lingering in your head but you’re a little intimidated by his gaze.

“Spit it out.”

You nearly jump from his sudden voice cutting through the silence. “Huh?”

“I can see you’re thinking something,” he says, tilting his head slightly. His face is impassive; you’ve never really been able to tell what he’s thinking during quiet moments. But he has no problems reading you. “What is it?”

You bite down on your lip as you wrap your arms defensively around yourself. “You don’t like touch,” you start.

He raises a brow before nodding slowly. “That’s true.”

“So…” You continue, struggling to hold eye contact. “How does this work then?”

You’re not sure what to make of the slow smile that climbs up his lips. It’s not one of his bright, sunny ones. It’s a quieter, more calculating slant of his lips that has you wishing you’d just kept shut.

“Simple,” he answers. “I’m not going to touch you.”

Now you’re confused, but more than that, you’re disappointed. “What?”

“You heard me,” he says, and you’re not sure if you’re imagining his voice deepening by the second. “I’m going to talk you through touching yourself.”

When he sees the blank look in your eyes, his smile widens, almost fond but more so like he enjoys watching you flounder about.

“I’m going to tell you what to do,” he continues, “and you’re going to do as I say. Okay?”

You’re starting to realize where this is heading and the thought floods you with embarrassment. “You’re just going to… watch?” You ask, then glance over at Keeho who’s watching the scene unfold with rampant attention as he traces his thumb lazily over his clothed erection.

“Sure,” Jiung answers, pulling your eyes back to him. “If that’s what you want.”

You’re reminded of what Intak had told you; that you’re the one who holds the power here. You haven’t exactly tested how much of that is true but now you’re starting to think it’s a viable option for you whenever you’d like it. 

It’s that knowledge that has you straightening with a newfound courage. “Okay.”

His brows raise at you, that tiny smile still on his lips. “Yeah?” He asks, and it’s a little bit infuriating that he’s still looking at you like you’re a cute, clueless little thing.

“Yes,” you say firmly, meeting his eyes. “Now are you going to get on with it? Isn’t your little time limit ticking away?”

His jaw ticks at your sudden pushing. “I have some leeway, considering some people—“ He throws a sharp eye over to Keeho, “—don’t have manners.”

“Hey,” Keeho cuts in, indignantly. “Shota was eating my time.”

But he goes ignored as Jiung focuses back on you. “Fix your pillows and lean back. Get comfortable.”

A part of you wants to defy just to see what he does but you find yourself falling prey to the cadence of his voice yet again. You’ve always been a sucker for it. More often than not, you’ve completely zoned out to just listen to the sound of voice rather than what he’s trying to explain to you in the studio, leaving you in an awkward situation when he catches on. You think maybe this is his way of getting back at you with it somehow.

Once you’ve stacked all your pillows behind you, you lean back and settle down, your knees still pulled up to your chest. You don’t find yourself withering under his gaze anymore, not when you know just the sight of you is having an effect on him too by the way he’s starting to tent in his grey sweats.

“Good,” he comments offhandedly, his eyes moving down to your legs, or rather, trying to see past them. “Open your legs.”

When you hesitate, he shoots a sharp look up at your face that has your legs immediately pushing apart to reveal all of yourself to him, your knees bent at your sides. 

You see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows and hear the faint shake of his breath when his eyes catch onto your core, still glistening. It’s starting to pool with a new wave of arousal that’s brought on by just the sound of Jiung’s voice.

His eyes move away with effort and rake up your body, stopping at your chest. “Anyone touched them yet?”

You’re still a little blindsided by how casually he— all of them, really— talk about all of this but you figure it’s about time to just get used to it. “Intak and Soul.”

He hums. “Expected. Play with them.”

It takes a second for you to process the command but when you do, it’s like your hands glide up your body on their own. You’ve never thought to stimulate your chest before on your solitary nights, but now that you know it’s a valid option thanks to Intak, that you’re sensitive there, you’re not opposed to it. You’re just not prepared for your first time touching yourself there to be in front of Jiung.

You take the soft mounds in your hands and squeeze gently. You’re surprised to find it a pleasant sensation under your own touch but it might also just be from the two sets of eyes watching your every move.

“Play with your nipples,” Jiung tells you, shifting slightly in his seat. His eyes are locked onto your hands. “Use your thumbs— yeah, just like that.”

You sigh softly as your thumbs circle around the already stiff peaks, feeling the soft burn of the stimulation spread throughout your chest. You take one between your fingers and tug gently, drawing a soft whine out of yourself. You nearly miss the way Jiung’s cock jumps against the confines of his revealing sweats.

You try and fail not to let that go to your head as you drag your eyes up to his face, the one so threaded with focus on you it’s nearly maddening.

“Jiung,” you say, voice breathy already. 

He doesn’t move his eyes. “Hm?”

“Take off your hoodie,” you tell him, and that gets his attention. “Wanna see your tattoos.”

You preen internally at the light blush that rises on his cheeks. Like you expected he would have to, he obeys. He tugs the collar of his purple hoodie up and pulls it off himself in one smooth go, tossing it to the corner of the bed.

Your hands falter on yourself as your eyes rake over the ink on his pale skin; vines and leaves adorning the sides of his ribs, butterflies tracing over his abs and trailing tantalizingly down beneath the boxers peaking out of his sweats, and the crescent moon placed centre in his chest.

“Pretty,” you find yourself saying and learn then that Jiung blushes down his chest.

“Take one hand off,” he says hurriedly, like he’s trying to take the situation back under his hand. But you can see the way that his chest has started rising a little more with each breath.

You obey regardless, dropping your right hand in your lap. 

His eyes move back down to your core. “Spread it open,” he says. “Wanna see everything. But don’t touch your clit.”

You lick your lips nervously, feeling your cheeks burn, but you move your right hand down and slide two fingers between your folds making sure to avoid your aching clit. The heat of your own skin is a nice reprieve until you scissor the fingers open, spreading yourself apart and exposing to the cool air.

You can hear his breath hitch as his jaw clenches at the sight. “You’re gushing,” he mutters to himself, an observation you’re well aware of but has you squirming when you hear it aloud. “Take some of it. Circle your clit. Lightly.”

You expected him to make you tease yourself more but with the choppy breaths he’s taking and the short sentences, you sense he’s starting to lose patience. Or lose time. Either way, you don’t deny yourself the pleasure. 

You collect some of the arousal with both of your fingers then drag them up to your clit. You keep your touch light as you circle slowly, sighing deeply at the touch.

You hear a soft grunt to your left and glance over to Keeho. You’d nearly forgotten about him, but the sight of him has your fingers faltering. He has his hand down his sweats, stroking himself slowly. His head is thrown back against the back of the chair, hair messy over his forehead, cheeks flushed, plush lips bitten red and parted as he pants sharply. His eyes are hooded slits as they watch your hand work yourself, fisting his own cock to match the slow pace of your fingers.

Your gaze is pulled back to Jiung when he snaps, “Eyes on me.” His own eyes are impossibly dark and his jaw is set tightly. “Don’t look at him.”

You give him a small nod, whining softly as you focus back on moving your fingers steadily over your aching clit. It’s hard to not notice the way Jiung is straining against his pants.

“Jiung,” you say through a breath, lifting your eyes back to his face. “Touch yourself.”

Your command takes him aback. You can see the conflict in his eyes to put himself in a vulnerable position to not only you, but with Keeho in the room too. 

Sensing his hesitation, Keeho pipes up. “C’mon, Jiung,” he says, voice light despite the strain. His breaths are audible through his words. “You gotta do what she says.”

So you really do have the power here.

You raise your brow challengingly at Jiung and he finally relents, letting his arousal win, though not without sending you a hard look first.

He leans back on one hand before letting the other slip down into his sweats. He grasps himself in a hard squeeze that has him tilting his head back and letting out a low groan. You want to trace the way that his throat shifts around another groan with your tongue.

He rolls his head to the side to focus his gaze back on you. He doesn’t do much with his hand, just lets it rest there and squeeze himself every few seconds.

“How many fingers did Keeho use on you?” He asks. His voice sounds heavier with arousal.

“Two.”

“Put one in. All the way, and don’t stall.”

You can see the impatience worn clearly on his face in furrowed brows and hardened edges. Without delay, you divert your hand and push your middle finger into yourself in one smooth slide. Even as it presses all the way in you find yourself mourning Keeho’s longer, thicker ones.

“Good girl,” Jiung praises and it goes straight to your cunt, making it pulse around your finger. “In and out, slowly— yeah, just like that.” He looks in a near trance at the way your walls suck your finger in with each languid thrust, leaking steadily around it.

You see his hand start to move now as he starts to stroke himself slowly to match the pace of your finger.

You find yourself cursing those grey sweats for blocking your vision. 

“Stop,” you tell him, and he pauses his hand with a confused albeit annoyed look on his face. “I wanna see you.”

His jaw ticks but he doesn’t hesitate this time. He lifts himself a little, pushing his sweats and boxers down just enough to reveal himself before taking his cock back in his hand and squeezing. “Better?” He asks you sardonically.

Yes, you want to say but your voice is stuck in your throat. Because the sight of him, long and hard and a pretty shade of pink as it strains with arousal, has you nearly moaning.

You push your finger into you a little quicker without thinking and Jiung takes that as his answer. “Slow down,” he snaps, and when you do, adds, “Put another one in.”

You push your ring finger in to join, moaning softly at the stretch but it still feels nothing like Keeho’s. When Jiung gives you the go, you pick up the pace again, a little faster by his order.

You try to prod around to reach for that spot that Keeho had practically torn you apart with but you can’t. Jiung notices the frustration on your face and laughs softly. “We’ll get there. Use your other hand on your clit. We need to get another finger in first.”

You bite down on your lip to hold in your whimper. Your other hand, which was just sitting limply against your chest at this point, falls quickly to press tight circles against your clit.

Everything you’re doing to yourself feels better than you’ve ever managed to make yourself feel in the past. Maybe it’s because of the soft grunts and moans and the slick sounds of skin against skin coming from the corner of your room where you’re forbidden to look at; maybe it’s because of the way that Jiung sits pretty in front of you, fisting his own cock to the sight of you getting yourself off; maybe it’s because of the way that he mutters soft praises to you every few moments and urges you to go faster, slower, deeper, shallower; maybe it’s not the commands at all but just his voice— but all of it brings you closer and closer to another daunting climax.

“Put another one in,” Jiung tells you, his breaths coming harder around his words. There’s a thin sheen of sweat on his skin as he works himself in tandem to your pace. “Need to get you properly stretched out.”

The implication of those words falls past you as you start to press your index finger in with the others, the stretch making your body tense and your other hand falter.

It burns a little but it burns good. The amount of slick still spilling out of you makes the way in easier, and soon you’re steadily pumping three fingers in while your other hand works your clit again, short moans tumbling out of your lips.

Jiung’s breaths are even more laboured as his fist speeds up over himself, his eyes starting to glass over. He’s fighting against them as they keep trying to flutter shut. He’s starting to sound a little ruined too as he speaks. “Hook your fingers up,” he says, then continues at your confused look. “The spot that you were looking for. Hook your fingers. Up.”

You follow his instructions and crook your fingers, but you still can’t seem to reach it. How Keeho had managed to find it with such scary precision, you desperately want to know.

“I-I can’t,” you whine, hating the desperate sound of your voice but you can feel yourself close, so close, but you need that final edge to push you over. The stimulation to your clit isn’t enough anymore, not after everything you’ve felt tonight.

Jiung starts to look a little panicked as his eyes flick over to your nightstand, and you realize he’s probably running out of time.

“Okay,” he says, his hand pausing over himself when he sees your eyes well with frustration. You see the way his cock twitches as it’s neglected but he ignores it in favour of focusing on you. “I can’t touch you, but just listen to my voice—“

“That won’t be necessary.”

Your head snaps to the left. The sight of Theo standing against the doorway with his arms crossed has a sinking feeling intruding the arousal in your gut. Everything stops, like the moment is waiting with baited breath for Theo to take it under his command.

You’d nearly forgotten that Theo was still to come. And when you realize the only thing that could possibly be left for his turn, your body freezes over.

“Taeyang,” Jiung says after recovering from his surprise. “I still have a few minutes left.”

Theo pushes himself up straight, shutting the door behind him with his foot as he makes his way in. He doesn’t acknowledge Keeho, who’s also stopped still and staring with wide eyes, as he makes his way over to the bed. There’s a small smile on his lips, lazy, like he’s only mildly interested in everything that’s happening.

“I gave you plenty of extra time,” he tells Jiung while keeping his disinterested eyes on you. “And you still failed.”

You bristle under his stare but he’s quickly moving on to focus on Jiung, who’s looking more nervous now than irritated.

“I told you I should’ve gone earlier,” Jiung mutters through grit teeth as Theo circles around the bed to hover over Jiung’s back.

“Doesn’t matter anymore, does it?” Theo asks coolly. He leans over Jiung’s shoulder and looks down where Jiung is still holding himself in a tight grip. “Did she tell you to touch yourself?”

Jiung doesn’t answer verbally, only nods. 

“Hm…” Theo lowers his head to rest his chin on Jiung’s shoulder, making him flinch at the sudden contact. “Maybe that was the problem. Maybe you should’ve focused more on her and less on yourself.”

Jiung works his jaw in frustration but stays still. “You said we should listen to her.”

“Should,” Theo repeats with a grin. “The ‘when necessary’ was implied.”

“Taeyang, I swear—“

Theo doesn’t let him finish. “You’re done with her,” he says, easy and stern, as he lifts himself off of Jiung, leaving the other boy wide eyed and incredulous.

“Are you serious?” He snaps, looking up at him with a glare.

“Very. You know the rules,” Theo answers as he makes his way back around to stand at the side of the bed, between you and Jiung. “Get behind her.”

Jiung’s brows furrow, matching your own confusion. “What?”

Theo simply smiles at Jiung as he reads him his fate. “You’re gonna get behind her so I can fuck her on you. And don't even think about coming.”

You feel your insides churn as the words settle, your hands, after unsheathing from yourself while their attention was off of you, curling into the sheets. Everything Theo is saying is so… casual. But he’s talking about fucking you on top of Jiung. That’s far from casual and far from anything you’re prepared for.

But the look on Jiung’s face tells you he’s having it worse. He pales, throat tight as he asks, “Why?”

“Punishment,” Theo says, like it’s obvious. “We set out on a mission here to show her everything she was missing out on. And you failed. So, punishment.” He leans down, invading Jiung’s space and leveling his condescending gaze inches away from his. “Are we clear?”

You can see Jiung’s face twitch as he restrains himself from lashing out. But then he nods, an act of quick submission that takes you by surprise. You start to wonder just what kind of hold your oldest member has over not just you, but the rest of the group.

Then Theo’s eyes are on you where you’re curled up, trying to shield yourself away from whatever was unravelling in front of you.

“Is that okay with you?” He asks you, voice momentarily shedding that commanding edge.

Honestly, you don’t care what happens anymore as long as you get to come again. Even if the thought of Theo being the one to fuck you to it is daunting, with his domineering aura and seemingly sadistic tendencies. But the part of you that’s still loose in the head from everything that’s happened tonight finds you wanting to give yourself over and let him take care of you, let him show you what you’re missing out on, by his words. Even if it was at the expense of Jiung’s sanity. You’ll pay him back later.

“Fine by me.”

A heavy silence fills the room as the confirmation of what’s about to happen settles in the thick air. 

Until Keeho breaks it with a pouty whine of, “Wait what about me?”

He’s still sitting on the chair, splayed out with his legs spread, elbows on the armrests while one hand squeezed around the base of himself. He’d shoved his pants down so you can actually see just how painfully hard he still is, almost purpling at the tip. Your mouth nearly waters at the thought of running your tongue along the thick vein that you can see protruding along his underside from where you’re sitting.

Theo catches your eye with a questioning brow raise. It’s up to you, he says silently with them.

“He can use my mouth,” you blurt without thinking, taking yourself by surprise.

Theo’s eyes flash in shock but his lips quirk up in a proud little smile. “Only when I say you can,” he tells Keeho, before gesturing him over.

Keeho nearly stumbles as he makes his way over to settle at the edge of the bed before shedding himself out of his clothes. You don’t get long to appreciate the valleys of his tan skin, taut over smooth planes of muscles before you’re distracted by Theo. 

Theo, who’s taking off his shirt and has everything else fade away from your focus when you catch a glimpse of the inked crown on the side of his rib cage.

When Theo notices the room in still motion, he rolls his eyes. “What?” He asks, raising a taunting brow at Jiung. “Do I have to order you to do everything now?”

Jiung’s lips twitch down in a scowl. “No,” he says smoothly despite the sharpness in his eyes. He goes to pull his sweats back up but Theo grabs his ankle and yanks him forward, sending Jiung sprawling on his back with a panicked grunt.

“Off,” Theo says sharply down at him, leaving no room for protest as his hand squeezes tightly around his ankle.

Jiung stares up at Theo with wide eyes, red heat climbing up his neck. You don’t miss the way his cock jumps, and neither does Theo.

But Theo shows him mercy and lets go of him, letting him scramble out of his layers and shuffle to the head of the bed where you are.

Your limbs lock up when Theo turns his full attention to you. He reaches forward and wraps his muscled arms around you to pull you forward as Jiung settles behind you. You relish in the warmth of Theo’s skin before he’s placing you so that your back is laying against Jiung’s front while he’s laid back the pile of pillows you made earlier.

You gasp softly when you fully settle against him, feeling Jiung’s erection prodding at your lower back, stiff and hot against you. You hear Jiung hiss softly softly at the contact behind your head.

His skin is warm and a little damp against your back but the feeling of him behind you, his presence just there, is almost grounding. His hands come up to hold your waist but Theo is quick to interject.

“Don’t touch her,” he says sharply and Jiung immediately fists his hands into the sheets.

You hear a chuckle to your right followed by Keeho’s teasing, albeit a little strained, voice. “I’ve never seen him so obedient.”

Theo glances over to share a playful grin. “You just don’t know how to handle him yet.”

“Even after all these years," Keeho muses dramatically. “Might have to take a lesson or two from you, Taeyang.”

“Can you two shut the fuck up?” Jiung snaps in an uncharacteristic show of short temper.

You haven’t heard him like that in a couple years, but hearing his deep voice right by your ear now, rough and sharp as he speaks, is doing things to your body you don’t want to address.

And of course, Theo catches the way your eyes flutter and you inhale sharply, and you nearly wither away under the devilish grin that curls on his lips. “I knew it,” he says. 

You turn your face away from him. “Know what?”

He grabs your chin to turn your gaze back at him. “Don’t try to hide,” he warns. “It’s a good thing I’m feeling selfish right now or I’d let him help me ruin you.”

The thought of both Theo and Jiung working you over the edge together has your walls fluttering. And of course, Theo notices that too.

“Dirty girl,” he taunts as he climbs onto the bed, sitting on his knees in front of you. 

From this close you can see the outline of him, large and heavy, through his loose pants and he’s not even fully hard yet. Your body thrums with nerves at the thought of having to take that size inside of you.

“What’s wrong?” He asks you, smug when he sees the way you eye him. “Don’t think you can take it?”

You grit your teeth, meeting his taunting gaze with a sharp one of your own. “Isn’t time ticking, Yangie?”

He takes your chin in his hand, shoving his thumb into your mouth and holding your tongue down. You whine at the sudden intrusion, trying to clamp your mouth down but he’s firm in the way he tugs down and holds you open. “I think that should be the least of your concerns right now.”

Jiung pipes up in your defence behind you. “Are you saying you’re not biding the time limit?” He’s tense behind you, his voice still tight the way he speaks to Theo.

Theo’s eyes lift to Jiung’s over your head. “If it weren’t for me, none of this would be happening,” he says, and there’s no response from Jiung. Theo looks back down to you, pushing his thumb deeper into your mouth, threatening to nearly gag you. “I think I should get a little leeway for that, shouldn’t I?”

You just glare back at him in response. You’re not sure what it is about him, but he brings out the defiant nature in you. Maybe you just want to see how far you can push.

Theo smiles down at you before pulling his thumb out. “Cute.” Then he’s shoving two of his fingers back in your mouth, deep enough to actually have you gag this time before pulling out halfway and just letting them sit over your tongue.

You blink through the tears that have risen and see that all amusement is gone from Theo’s eyes, leaving cold indifference.

“Do you plan on mouthing off again?” He asks you, in an eerily gentle voice.

You think you might die if things get strung out too long; you’re still aching from not getting to finish from your time with Jiung.

So you shake your head no and Theo pulls his fingers from your mouth. “Good girl,” he says, then moves his hand down to push those fingers into your cunt. 

You gasp sharply, pushing yourself back on Jiung at the sudden invasion, your legs trying to lock shut but Theo keeps them apart. You can feel Jiung’s cock kick against your back but you’re more focused on Theo’s fingers stretching you, shorter than Keeho’s but thicker.

Theo hums, watching your walls squeeze around him as he scissors his fingers open like it’s something clinical, completely ignoring the way you’re whining and writhing at the burn.

“It’ll fit,” he decides before pulling his fingers out.

You let out a shaky breath of relief, your head dropping back on Jiung’s shoulder.

Jiung’s body is taut with restraint behind you, his breaths coming out harshly against your left ear. He’s like stone against your lower back, hot and pulsing. You shift back a little, pushing yourself against his erection and you hear his breath hitch with a quiet whine only you can hear.

“Don’t,” you hear him whisper under his heavy breath. 

It all goes unnoticed by Theo who’s busy working himself out of the rest of his clothes. And you forget all about Jiung when you’re met with the sight of Theo who’s thick enough at only half mast to have your legs clamping shut in fear.

“You’re not going to fit,” you say quickly, panicked as you try to shove yourself further into Jiung. 

“Fuck, stop,” Jiung grunts behind you as he grabs your waist and holds you down to keep you from brushing against him.

Theo doesn’t chastise him but he does point you with a sharp look as he takes a hold of himself, stroking slowly. “You can take it,” he says, using his free hand to pry your knees apart again. “You’ve been preparing the whole night for it. It’ll fit.”

“Still,” you whine, feeling your head rush as you watch him thicken in his grasp. 

You’re still squirming yourself out of Theo’s grip despite him getting increasingly annoyed. 

“Jiung, hold her legs open.”

You hear Jiung scoff over your ear. “I thought you didn’t want me to touch her.”

One sharp look from Theo has Jiung reaching around you to grab you under your knees and pull your legs apart, leaving you exposed and vulnerable to Theo.

You turn your face into Jiung’s neck to hide, still trembling in his hold. You can’t help but feel a little humiliated being pried open like this in front of them, tears starting to prickle at your eyes.

The press of soft, plush lips against your jaw has you peeking out to see Theo an inch from your face and looking down at you with a softer edge to his still heated gaze. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he assures you. “You trust me, don’t you?”

Your eyes flutter closed as you try to take ahold of your uneven breaths. This is your Theo, the one who gives you the sweater off his back when you’re cold, the one who gives you his seat when everything else is taken, the one who’s always the first to make you laugh when you’re down. You take a deep breath and open your eyes, blinking away the tears.

“Yeah,” you breathe, peering up into his eyes, easing down at the soft smile that grows on his lips. “I trust you.”

He lets his eyes linger in yours, searching for any more signs of distress. When he doesn’t find any, he leans forward to press his lips to yours.

The kiss is gentle, grounding, caring— everything your Theo is.

But the soft spell is broken when you feel the blunt head of his cock against your clit. 

He swallows the moan right from your lips before he lifts from the kiss, meeting your wide eyes with his that have lost the softness in them.

“You’re gonna take it for me, ‘kay?” That stony edge to his voice is back and you find yourself falling under its weight.

You nod quickly and Theo kisses you again, hard and searching as he drags the head of his cock down to your entrances and pushes.

You pull back from the kiss, tossing your head back over Jiung’s shoulder as you let out a broken cry. The stretch of him is nearly unbearable and all encompassing. And it’s only just the tip that breaches into you.

Theo’s forehead drops to your shoulder with a strained grunt, his own body going taut. “Fuck,” he hisses, overwhelmed by how tight your walls are around him.

Your eyes blur with tears as you blink up at the ceiling, breaths stuttering past your lips.

“Just breathe,” you hear Jiung’s soothing voice whisper in your ear, his lips brushing against it as he speaks. “Breathe. You got it.”

You follow his voice, follow his instructions as he guides you through taking Theo to the hilt. You open up slowly, swallowing deep breaths to let your body relax and open up for him. The sweet words from Jiung’s lips— that's it, you’re doing so good for us, so good, just keep breathing, such a good girl— guide you through the paces until Theo buries himself fully inside of you with a deep, shuddering sigh.

“Atta girl,” Theo whispers in your other ear, pressing a quick kiss to it. His voice is rough, strained, and somehow still condescending. “Told you you could take it.”

You whine softly in response because your ability to speak, or think even, is muddled out by the full feeling of him practically tearing you open from the inside. But despite it all, it’s a stretch that has you pulsing around him, like your walls are trying to keep him buried inside of you and keep you full.

Theo grunts at the way your body just sucks him in. His hands brace tightly against your hips before, without a warning, he starts to pull out.

The feeling is just as intense, has you crying out and has tears slipping down your face. But he’s not so patient this time. He pulls out in an agonizing drag until just the tip remains before he slowly pushes back in in that same, torturous drag.

It continues like that, until your cries of pain fade into short, rapid moans as the stretch burns away into pleasure.

Your eyes are blurry and your mind is half there, but you can still make out Theo’s strained words clearly. “Taking me so well,” he says through a grunt as he snaps his hips into you at a pace that’s steadily increasing. “Fit so nice and— ah, fuck— like you were made to take me.” He drops his forehead to yours, a thin sheen of sweat gleaming over his skin as his blown eyes bear down on yours. “Weren’t you?”

Your tongue feels too heavy in your mouth so you whine in response, eyes fluttering.

“Yeah you were,” he breathes then pushes into you with a sharp thrust that has you moaning sharply, your hands scrambling to grab onto his arms. “Just made for my cock.”

His hips start to speed up, making sure to drive all the way into you with each thrust. Your body bucks up with each snap, sending you rocking steadily on top of Jiung’s cock.

Jiung is barely holding on behind you; his hands shake as they try desperately to keep you open for Theo, his breaths laboured as they fall rapidly from his lips, his cock throbbing under each rock of your body. It takes great effort to hold back from coming, but he’s already far too close to the edge to where he knows it won’t be possible to hold back for long.

He peers over your trembling body to look up at Theo, his eyes prickling with tears from how painful it’s becoming to hold back.

“Taeyang,” he whispers, and the way Theo’s eyes snap from yours to his, fiery charcoal burning into his own, has him nearly toppling over the edge. He hopes the pleading look on his face is enough to get his question across. But the devil doesn’t make fair deals and Jiung’s got one holding his fate.

“No,” Theo tells him before he turns back to you and starts driving his hips even faster, tossing Jiung right into his own personal little hell as he lays there, neglected and forced to just take.

Theo feels nearly manic at the sigh of both you and Jiung under him, crying for him. But the sight is just too pretty and your walls are so warm as they swallow him in with each rough thrust, that he feels too high off of the power to let it go just yet.

Your eyes are unfocused on him, mind truly well and fucked out after the hours of constant stimulation. There’s a steady stream of moans and whines and babbles of please, please, please’s from your lips that he’s sure you’re not even aware of that spills into the thick air between you.

It goes straight to his cock, pulsing inside of you. But he holds back; he’s not close to done with you yet.

“You’re so noisy,” you hear Theo scold you lightly. 

You can’t process much except for the heavy pressure pounding between your hips at a steady pace and the strokes of fire that spreads from it.

But you hear the command clearly as he glances over at Keeho to your right. “Do something about it, won’t you?”

Before you know it, there's a blunt pressure prodding between your lips. As if on instinct you turn your head and let your jaw fall open to accept Keeho into your mouth, throbbing and salty on your tongue as he starts to shallowly fuck into your mouth.

His face is strained as he looks down at you, eyes wide and glazed over in pure lust. He fists a hand into your hair and holds you in place as he starts to pick up the pace, though it’s already stuttering. 

“M’not gonna last long, pretty,” he pants, hissing with each thrust in. “Fuck, you’re so warm.”

You moan around him at a harsh thrust from Theo, a sound that has Keeho’s cock twitching in your mouth.

“Fuck,” he snaps, his hand gripping tightly into your hair and sending sharp prickles of pain through your scalp. “Fuck it.” 

Then he’s driving his cock deeper into your mouth at a rapid pace, nearly hitting the back of your throat with each thrust and leaving you gagging each time. But he doesn’t stop, just drives into you, pushing your head into him as he fucks into your warm, pliant mouth. “Take it, take it, take it.”

He comes with a loud, strained moan, pushing your head into his pelvis as he pushes all the way in and spills down your throat, cock twitching as it pulses around him.

It’s the way that your head goes floaty when his cock cuts off your air and you’re forced to swallow his cum, and the way that Theo circles his thumb around your throbbing clit, that does you in.

Your body thrashes in Jiung’s hold as your orgasm rips through you. You moan loudly around Keeho’s cock still buried in you as you come over Theo’s cock, tears streaming down your face and your nails digging roughly into Theo’s arms.

You feel Theo’s pace falter as you tremble through your climax, coughing when Keeho finally pulls out of your mouth. 

You’re pretty sure you’re dead where you lay atop Jiung, still rattling from the orgasm as you come down from it.

But Theo doesn’t even give you the chance to recover from it before he resumes fucking you into the mattress, Jiung too by proxy, at the same rough pace.

Oversensitive and overwhelmed, you start clawing at Theo’s arms again, your body thrashing without your control. “T-Tae—!” Your voice breaks off before you can finish. You’re not sure when you’d started sobbing. 

“Five,” Theo grits through his teeth, eyes still swollen black with desire and lust-drunk mania. He’s panting from the effort of fucking into you at the same, maddening pace. “Promised you six. You’re gonna come for me again.” His breaths are short, and his hips are starting to stutter, but he doesn’t slow down. 

You try to protest and tell him that you can’t, but then he’s wrapping his hand around your throat and squeezing down on the sides with his fingers and you get that floaty feeling in your head again, like you’re lifting out of your body. Your body’s starting to feel numb but you also feel everything all at once and you’re not even sure where you’re last orgasm ends, if it even did, and the next one starts, but you’re coming again, body quivering, eyes rolling back, jaw falling open in a silent cry.

The sight tips Theo right over the edge with you as he fucks into you hard, one, twice, three times before he shoved himself all the way in and paints you deep within your walls with hot ropes of his release. He plasters himself down on you as his body gives out but his hips are still grinding into you, rocking his cum deep into you.

You’re not sure when you had passed out— or, did you pass out?— but when you blink your eyes slowly open you’re met with Keeho and Theo’s concerned faces peering down at you.

As soon as your eyes open, their faces wash over in instant relief.

“Thank god, she’s fine,” Keeho says, dropping his head low and sighing in relief. 

Theo turns to Keeho and whacks him on the back of his head. “I told you I didn’t fuck her dead, you idiot.”

Keeho yelps and lifts his head with a glare. “Well, what else was I supposed to think, she went out!”

Theo just glares back at him in silence.

Okay, so you did pass out. But you don’t feel quite awake just yet either, at least not physically. Your bones feel like ten tonne bricks, there’s a sticky soreness thrumming between your hips, and every movement takes a Herculean effort as you try to shift.

The pair of arms wrapped around you, trapping your arms under them, prevents you from moving. You try to shift again but the arms clamp down even tighter and a tiny panicked gasp hits you behind your ear. Jiung.

That’s when you feel it— the thick dampness splattered along your back and Jiung’s softened cock pushed against the small of your back. 

“Hey.” Your focus snaps back onto Keeho as he brushes your hair out of your face. “Are you okay?”

You blink up at him. Besides the heavy limbs, the sore throat, the somewhat bearable ache between your legs, and your syrupy mind, you feel fine— good, even.

“Yeah,” you say, taking all of you by surprise at how croaky your throat is.

Theo turns back to glare at Keeho. “You went too hard on her.”

Keeho whips his head to him, flabbergasted. “You’re one to talk!”

“Guys,” you groan, trying your best to blink yourself out of the fog that’s making your brain feel like soup. “Quiet, please.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Keeho amends quickly. “C’mere, let’s get you in a bath.” 

He reaches forward to pick you up but Jiung’s arms clamp down on you again and yanks you right back down, refusing to let you out of his arms.

Theo and Keeho both turn to Jiung, identical expressions of shock worn on their faces at the uncharacteristic show of clinginess.

“Ji?” Theo asks, reaching past you to touch Jiung but you feel Jiung’s face bury into your shoulders.

Your mind snaps almost fully awake when you feel his lashes flutter against the skin on your neck, damp with tears.

“I didn’t mean to,” you hear him mumble into your shoulder in a tiny voice.

You know what it means, but you let Theo and Keeho figure it out on their own. Theo gets to the answer quicker, a fond but teasing smile pulling on lips.

“You just couldn’t hold yourself back, could you?” He teases, reaching over to affectionately scratch at Jiung’s head but Jiung buries his head further into you and away from the touch.

“I tried,” you hear him whisper. “‘M sorry.”

You feel a wave of fondness wash over you at how small he sounds. He’s never this clingy, never this whiney, and it makes you want to bury him in your arms despite the fact that you can still feel his cum drying against your back.

Keeho seems to feel the same sentiment as he surges forward and somehow wraps his arms around both you and Jiung. 

“He’s so cute,” Keeho coos and that seems to snap Jiung out of it a little, his usual grumpy tone back into his voice as he tells Keeho to fuck off.

You can’t help but giggle at their antics, a sound that has everyone stop short and stare down at you.

Your laugh fades out at the attention. “What?”

Theo’s smile is soft as he pulls the blanket off of the floor and throws it on top of you. “Nothing,” he says, tucking the blanket around the three of you.

“I didn’t think cuddling was offered,” you mumble, but being sandwiched between Keeho and Jiung is something you really can’t complain about.

“You get the full package,” Keeho says, running his hand through your hair, fingers gently scratching down your scalp.

You hum under the touch, eyes fluttering closed. It makes you almost want to purr. “I don’t remember paying for a full package.”

“You’re not paying us at all,” Keeho states.

“Should I?”

He whacks you atop the head with the hand that was carding through your hair and you nearly whine at the loss of his fingers digging into your scalp. “We’re not cheap whores,” he scolds you lightly.

“No, but you sure act like ‘em,” you say then snicker at the affronted look on his face.

“You seemed into it though,” Theo points out as he climbs back into bed, damp towel in his hand and sweatpants back on. You didn’t know when he’d left.

Your cheeks heat at the accusation. “Kinda hard not to be,” you mutter, turning your face into the pillow. 

You inhale sharply when you feel the hot towel press against your back.

“Sorry,” you hear Jiung mumble before he makes quick work of wiping down your back then between your legs, making sure to be careful but even the slightest touch has you twitching and whining.

You feel better wiped clean, comfortable enough to where you start to doze off. But a sharp poke to the forehead has you blinking your eyes open and glaring at Theo, who’s hovering over you with an arm braced between you and Keeho. 

“What?” You snap.

He raises a brow at you. “Well?” 

“Well what?”

“Did we prove you wrong or what?”

You groan as you try to roll away but he drops himself on your chest, effectively trapping you. “Do I really have to say it?”

You feel Keeho’s lips brush against the apple of your cheek, can practically hear the smile in his voice. “It would be nice.”

You sigh deeply. You figure it’s the least you can do, considering the fact that they’d just turned your world upside down. And probably ruined sex with anyone else for the rest of your life.

“Fine,” you huff, trying to come off as gravely inconvenienced but the grin on Theo’s lips has your own smile growing. “Yes, you proved me wrong. Six times over.”

Theo chuckles, breath brushing over your lips as he rests his chin on your chest. “You’re welcome,” he says cheekily and has your eyes rolling fondly.

“So…” Keeho trails off, pulling your eyes to him. He’s trying to smother down his up-to-no-good smile, but failing miserably. “Who was your favourite?” He asks, because of course he would. 

You scrunch your nose, pretending to think. “Definitely not Theo,” you settle on, glaring lightly down at Theo’s still smug face. “He’s an asshole.”

Theo pouts dramatically, not even bothering to be actually offended. “Is that any way to treat the guy who just gave you six orgasms?” 

“What is wrong with you?”

Jiung, who’s still tucked into your side, bristles at that. “Why are you taking credit for all of it?” Jiung grumbles into your shoulder, refusing to detach from you.

“Again, none of this would have happened without me,” Theo answers like it’s just the simple truth. 

You roll your eyes, exasperated. “Okay, then next time we’ll just leave you out of it completely.”

You don’t even get the chance to process your own words before the door to your bedroom is slamming open and Intak, Soul, and Jongseob come crashing down to the floor in a pile of messy limbs, cursing and clawing at each other as they try to untangle themselves.

Intak elbows the other two away and lifts himself up above them, looking up at you with the eyes and eager grin of someone who’s just been told they were nominated for a Grammy. “Next time?”

Jongseob and Soul stop clawing at Intak to look up at you, waiting for your answer with bated breath.

You blink at them, then turn to Theo, who’s looking at you with the same curiosity. Jiung and Keeho’s eyes burn into the sides of your face.

You don’t even have to think twice as you’re dropping your head back on the pillow and smiling up at the ceiling, a deep satisfaction settling in your chest much like the dull, aching one between your legs.

“Next time.”

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⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹

You’d been kissing for what felt like hours, slow, deep, exploring kisses that tasted of the sugary candy you had been eating together earlier.

Your shirt clad chest pressed against his bare one, his lips soft but insistent, tongue a gentle promise against yours. This was your routine. The making out that would leave you both breathless and flushed, that would stir an ache low in your belly, but would always, always stop before it became too much.

Jiung never pushed. He’d kiss you until your lips were swollen, hold you until your limbs were liquid in his hands, and then, with a soft, pained groan into your neck, he’d untangle himself, adjust himself discreetly, and leave you with a chaste kiss on the forehead, his own need a secondary concern to your comfort.

You had a fear of sex. Not of him, never of him, but of the act itself. The vulnerability, the potential for pain, the loss of control. He knew. He’d held you through quiet tears when you first confessed to him, scared that he'd leave you as so many others had. He listened without judgment as you fumbled through explanations of your nerves. His patience was a fortress around your fragile feelings.

But tonight… tonight was different. A restless, needy want surged through you. The usual slow burn of your make-out sessions felt like it was igniting something more in your body. You broke the kiss, panting softly, and instead of settling against his chest, you began to move. A timid, tentative roll of your hips, grinding the soft cotton of your pajama shorts against his stomach and lower.

Jiung’s breath hitched. His hands tightened on your waist. “Baby?” he murmured, his voice breathy against your lips.

You didn’t answer with words. You just kissed him again, more desperately this time, your tongue sliding over his as you ground down harder. A tiny, helpless noise escaped your throat, a high-pitched whimper you barely recognized as your own.

It was like flipping a switch in him. A low groan escaped his throat which only encouraged you more. “Fuck,” he whispered against your mouth. “Those little sounds… you’re going to kill me.”

Emboldened, you held onto his broad shoulders, your fingers digging into the muscle there. You rocked against him, seeking friction, seeking more.

The thin layers of fabric between you were a maddening barrier. You could feel the hard length of him, trapped in his sweatpants, pressing insistently against you with every movement. You rubbed yourself against him, your movements growing less hesitant and more purposeful. The tension in your lower belly was tightening, a sweet, urgent pull.

“Jiung,” you gasped, breaking the kiss to bury your face in the crook of his neck. God he smelled so good. “I… I need…”

“What do you need, sweetheart?” His voice was strained, thick with desire, but his hands were still gentle, one coming up to cradle the back of your head. “Tell me. Anything you want.”

You lifted your head, meeting his dark, caring eyes. They were full of so much heat, but also an unwavering patience. “Can I have... a little more. Please?”

He searched your face for a long moment in awe, his gaze tracing your flushed cheeks, your kiss-swollen lips, the desperate plea in your eyes. He nodded slowly, a solemn agreement. “You can have whatever you want my love. Can I take these off?” he asked, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your pajama shorts.

You nodded, a shiver of anticipation and nervousness racing down your spine. “Yes.”

His movements were careful. He guided you off his lap as he helped you lift your hips, sliding the soft shorts down your legs and tossing them aside. The cool air of the room kissed your heat, making you aware of how exposed you were in just your shirt and panties. He then hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his own sweatpants, pushing them down before kicking them off the bed.

The sight of him, lying back against the pillows in just his black boxers, stole your breath. He was all lean muscle and smooth skin, his pretty tattoos on full display. The soft lines of his abdomen led down to where an unmistakable erection strained against the cotton, the tip already dark with moisture and visibly outlined. You swallowed hard.

“Come here,” he whispered with a pat to his lap. He was lying back fully, guiding you to settle back on top of him, your soaked pussy now aligned directly with the ridge of his cock through the fabric. The new position was more intimate, more intense. You could almost feel every inch of him.

Hesitantly, you began to move again, grinding against him slowly. The sensation was immediately different. The thin material of your panties and his boxers were a pathetic curtain between your heated flesh. A jolt of pure pleasure shot through you, and a soft “oh” fell from your lips.

“That’s it,” Jiung encouraged, his hands settling on your hips. “Just like that. Feel good?”

“Mmm-hmm,” you managed, already losing yourself to the rhythm. You started moving harder, chasing that addicting feeling, your thighs gripping his sides. The wetness gathering between your legs was making the glide so much smoother. You could hear the soft, wet sound of fabric moving against fabric.

“God, look at you,” he groaned, his eyes raking over your body. Your shirt had ridden up, exposing the soft skin of your stomach. “Can I touch you? Here?” His hands hovered over your torso.

“Yes,” you breathed. “Please.”

His touch was fire. One large hand slid up under your shirt, his palm scorching as it cupped your breast and he was delighted to find no bra there, just your bare skin. Your heart hammered in your chest at the contact, this being the first time he'd ever touched you there.

He squeezed gently, his thumb brushing over your nipple until it pebbled into a hard peak between his fingers. The other hand splayed across your stomach, possessive and warm, before sliding around to grip your waist, holding you steady as you moved against him.

Lost in the sensation, your own hands reached behind you, bracing on his strong thighs for support as you rocked your hips in a desperate circle. The friction was exquisite, building a pressure that you had never experienced before.

Jiung’s gaze was locked between your bodies. His breathing was harsh. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he choked out. “Look at that. You’re soaking through your panties. I can see it.” A dark, wet patch had indeed bloomed on the light-colored fabric, clear evidence of your arousal.

He bit his lower lip, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “Can we… can we take these off? Just these. I promise, I won’t do anything else. I just… I need to feel all of you against me. No barriers. Please.”

His plea was raw and honest. You were scared, a flutter of panic in your chest at the thought of being so bare before him. But this was Jiung. Your Jiung. Who had never broken a promise to you and who you've never ever felt uncomfortable with.

You gave a shy, almost imperceptible nod.

The devotion in his movements made your throat tighten.

Once again, he gently moved you off his lap and hooked his fingers into the sides of your panties and drew them down your legs with agonizing slowness, his eyes drinking in the newly revealed flesh. When they were completely off, he didn’t immediately move. He was transfixed. His breath left him in a shaky, awed rush.

“Wow,” he whispered, his voice full of wonder. “You’re so fucking beautiful. Every part of you. Absolutely stunning.” His gaze was hot, worshipful, drinking in the glistening folds, thankful that you trusted him enough to reveal yourself to him. The intimacy of it was overwhelming, but the pure admiration in his eyes chased some of the fear away.

He quickly discarded his own underwear, freeing his painful erection. It sprang up, long and veined, the head flushed a deep pretty red and beading with pre-cum. It was intimidating, the sheer reality of it, its size, its obvious need. You whimpered, your body tensing ever so slightly.

“Shhh,” he soothed instantly, catching your reaction. He leaned forward to kiss you softly. “It’s just me. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want. We can stop right now.” His sincerity was endearing.

“No,” you whispered back, kissing him. “I want… I want to feel you.”

Blushing furiously, he helped guide you back onto his lap. The moment your bare skin met his, the hot, silken head of his cock pressing against your dripping folds, you both gasped. It was a shock of sensation, so much more intense than through fabric. His hands returned to your hips, gripping firmly as he helped you grind down on him.

“That’s my girl,” he praised, his voice rough.“Ride me just like that. Use me to make yourself feel good. God, your pussy is so soft, so wet for me. You feel that? How perfect we fit together even like this?”

You could only choke out a whimper in response, your head falling back as you moved. The hard head of his cock dragged through your slickness, rubbing against your sensitive clit with every pass, setting your nerves alight. The sounds were so obscene, wet, slick, squelches that filled the room. You leaned in to kiss him, needing the balance of the sweet innocent touch in contrast to the not so innocent touch below you.

And you were dizzy with it, with the feel of him, the smell of sex and sweat, the sight of his blissful face watching you come apart.

“Jiung,” you panted, tearing your mouth from his to press your forehead against his shoulder. Your movements became less coordinated, more sporadic. “I need mngh- I....ah!” You didn't even know what you were saying, babbling uselessly on his cock.

“I know, sweet girl, I know,” he soothed, one hand cradling the back of your head while the other spread on the small of your back. “You’re doing so good. Just feel it. Listen to your body.” His own body was flexing hard against you, every muscle tensed with the effort to control himself. He kissed along your jaw, down your throat, his tongue tasting the salty sweat on your skin.

“You’re making such a pretty mess for me, all over my stomach. My good girl.”

Overwhelmed, you captured his lips again, wet and sloppy, matching the pace perfectly. As the intensity built in your belly, you began to clench around nothing, your clit pulsating against him and the aching emptiness inside you was becoming unbearable. You pulled back, your eyes swimming with desperate tears of frustration and longing.

Before you even realized what he was doing, he gripped your waist and rolled you both over, laying you down on your back amidst the crumpled sheets. You whined in protest, a sound so sweetly frustrated, your hips arching off the bed, seeking the lost friction. “Why’d you do that? I want… I want to make you feel good.”

God how could someone be so unbelievably sexy and cute at the same time Jiung thought. You had really thought you were in control. You thought just because you were on top, because he let you set that sweet little pace, that he wasn't holding every ounce of control. The way he guided your hips when they faltered, the way he kept your thrusts shallow so he wouldn't scare you away, the way he had to hold himself back to keep from flipping you over an hour ago and driving into you until you both forgot your names.

He looked down at you, your brows still furrowed in adorable frustration.

He could only imagine the future. The future where he would finally show you what control really feels like. When he would pin those pretty wrists above your head and watch your eyes go wide when you realize how much stronger he is, how easily he could tear you apart. How he would turn that sweet, needy grinding into deep, possessive thrusts that leave you sobbing his name.

A tremor of raw anticipation ran through him at the thought. Oh my love, you have no idea.

He leaned down, kissing away the crease between your brows, then lower to capture your lips in a slow deep kiss meant to silence your protests and swallow your little whimpers.

"Shhh my sweet girl," he murmured, one hand coming up to cradle your jaw, his thumb stroking your cheekbone.

"I don't want you getting tired from grinding on me." The truth, but not all of it.

He kissed you again softly before continuing, his eyes holding yours with an intensity that made your breath catch.

"Let me take care of you princess," he whispered. "That's how you make me feel good."

He settled between your thighs, spreading you open wider. The position was more exposing, more vulnerable. You watched the intense focus on his face as he looked down at your dripping cunt with stars in his eyes, still clenching uselessly around nothing. "God look at you."

Then he reached down and took himself in hand. You watched, mesmerized, as he stroked himself a few times, pleasuring himself with just the sight of your pussy, then finally guiding the broad head of his cock through your soaked folds. He rubbed it against you, coating himself in your arousal, the swollen tip catching on your entrance slightly, sending your heart racing, before sliding up to circle your clit.

“Oh god!” you cried out, your back arching off the bed. The direct stimulation was unbelievable. Each pass sent jolts of white-hot pleasure straight to your core. He set a slow, torturous pace, watching your face intently.

“You like that?” he murmured, his own control slipping. “You like my cock rubbing against your pretty little pussy? Look at how wet you are for me. You’re dripping all over me. Such a good girl, taking it so well.”

You cried out, between his voice and cock, the sensations were so intense you could barely breathe, each stroke pushing you closer to the edge without letting you fall.

“That’s it, let me hear you. Your moans are the best sound I’ve ever heard. You have no idea what you do to me. I could spend hours just like this, feeling you get wetter and wetter."

He was true to his word as he glided through your sensitive flesh with increasing pressure and speed. The pressure inside you was wound impossibly tight, a screaming tension that demanded release. You were thrashing beneath him, clutching at the sheets, a continuous stream of pleas and cries falling from your lips.

“Can’t… I can’t…” you sobbed.

“Can’t what, sweetheart?” he teased, wanting nothing more than to drive you mad. “Can’t take it? You can. You’re taking it so beautifully.” He leaned down to kiss you on the nose. “Tell me what you want. Use those pretty words.”

Gathering every ounce of courage, you reached between your bodies, your fingers brushing against his where he held himself. You looked up into his burning eyes and whispered, so quietly he had to strain to hear, “Can you… put the tip in? Just… just the tip?”

He stilled for a fraction of a second, surprise flashing across his features. “Just the tip?” he repeated, his voice hushed.

You nodded frantically, your face burning with a mix of shame and desperate need. “Yeah. Please. Just the tip.”

A groan ripped from his chest, a sound of pure agony and ecstasy, he could have cum right then and there. “Fuck. Okay. Okay, baby. Just the tip. I promise. For my brave girl."

He shifted his position slightly, aligning himself perfectly with you. Holding your eyes, he applied a gentle pressure. The blunt head of his cock began to press against your tight entrance. "Relax for me my love, let me in."

There was a moment of resistance, a stretching burn that made you gasp, and then suddenly he was inside. Just an inch, maybe even less.

The feeling was immense. A fullness, a stretching heat you’d never known. You cried out, a sharp sound that melted into a long, low mewl.

A wave of emotion crashed over you. The vulnerability, the trust, the sheer physical intensity of it was too much, and a choked sob escaped your throat. Hot tears welled in your eyes and spilled over, tracking down your cheeks rapidly.

Jiung froze instantly. “Hey, hey,” he whispered, his voice heavy with concern. He brushed your tears away with his thumbs, his own body trembling to keep still inside you. “Does it hurt? We can stop right now.”

You shook your head frantically, your inner muscles fluttering around that incredible, invasive inch of him. “N-no… it’s… it’s just… a lot.” You managed a watery smile. “Good. It’s so good.”

He searched your eyes, finding only truth, and his expression transformed into one of awe. He dropped a kiss on your tear streaked cheek, then your lips. “I know, baby, I know,” he murmured. “It’s overwhelming. You’re so perfect. So fucking tight. So hot inside. Taking me so well, my perfect girl. Just breathe for me.”

You did, drawing in a ragged breath. The initial sting was already fading, replaced by a deep, throbbing ache of pleasure. He was inside you. A part of him was connected to a part of you.

“Okay?” he whispered.

“Okay,” you breathed. “Move… please move.”

He withdrew slowly until he was completely out of you, cock pressed to your fluttering entrance, then pushed back in that same shallow, careful inch.

The drag was exquisite. Each time he slid back in, a fresh sob hitched in your chest, tears of overwhelming pleasure now mixing with the earlier emotional release. He vehemently kept his promise, never sinking deeper, but with each thrust, he picked up speed.

“That’s it,” he encouraged, his own breath coming in painful ragged pants. “Cry for me, princess. Let me see how good it feels. You’re such a pretty mess for me. My messy, perfect dirty girl.” His words were a lifeline as you clung to every single one. “Fuck, you’re tight. Just squeezing the tip so sweetly. You wanna milk me dry just like this? Hmm? Gonna make me come from just this little bit of your tight pussy?”

His words sent a series of spasms through you. You were unraveling completely, sobbing openly now with each thrust. You've never been this close to release before, your fingers never being enough.

With a groan that was pure lust, he pulled all the way out, his slick cock leaving your fluttering entrance just to drag the swollen head back through your soaked folds, painting your clit with a thick stripe of your combined wetness.

“Yes! God, yes!” You cried out at the new rhythm.

He slid his cock head back to your entrance and pushed, filling that aching space once more. You cried out, the relief instantaneous and profound. He gave you three, four, five of those perfect, small thrusts, until he pulled out again to rub against you.

He used his cock like that, sliding the length of it through your drenched slit, from your clit all the way back to your entrance, coating himself and spreading your arousal everywhere.

He watched with fascination. "So messy. Making such a mess on my cock huh?"

In. Out and up. In. Out and up. It was a cycle of tension and relief that built upon itself with every pass.

You couldn't take it any more. The pressure was too much to take.

"I can't!" You choked out. "It's too much!"

“You can, my love, you can do it. Come on, cum all over my cock. This sweet, perfect cunt. I love you so much. You can do it.”

The pressure broke without warning. Your orgasm crashed over you, violent and all-consuming. Your inner muscles clamped down viscously around the invading tip of him as a silent scream tore through you, your body convulsing under his.

The feeling of your clamping heat was his undoing. With a raw moan of pure pleasure, he followed you over. You felt the hot, intimate pulse of his cum inside you mixing with your own.

He collapsed onto his forearms above you, too weak to hold out any longer, burying his face in your neck as you both shuddered through the aftershocks. His body was heavy and warm as it relaxed against yours.

After a moment, he lifted his head. He was still inside you, that tender connection maintained. He looked down at your pretty face, at your tear-streaks, your swollen lips, your fucked-out expression, and his eyes shone with a love so fierce it stole the last of your breath.

He leaned down and kissed you so deep you felt it in your soul. When he pulled back, he whispered against your lips, a vow for the future, thick with promise and commitment.

"Can't wait to make love to you."

—

Taglist: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx, @missingjulia , @hxraiiii @mingijelly, @bluedenebii, @kukkurookkoo, @tilly-death @mysweetjongseob, @lycxee @willowedjelly, @arw217 , @l5byrinth @tinastar13 @evemds @jellyybelly @elmolovesw33d @missmaiamay @stxrxyyz @seonghwaswifeuuuu @happilyeverafterforme @ozzysoatsolivesandpasta @vvalever @oyasumiaikko @chandlxa @choxochip @ji-eun-bun @cryptothecat @izzyreadsstuff @ava-lazaza @princessthelsa @leleluvrs

keeho - 기호 

the dorm was loud the way it always was when all six boys were crammed into one room. jiung and jongseob were locked into a video game battle on the tv, their voices overlapping in sharp bursts of trash talk. intak sat cross-legged on the floor with a bag of chips, narrating the chaos like he was some kind of sports commentator. theo hummed under his breath while scrolling tiktok, and soul sat nearby flipping through a notebook.

you were curled against keeho on the couch, half leaning into his side, chin tucked against his shoulder as you watched the game unfold. it wasn’t unusual—in fact, it was your favorite spot, pressed against him while the others did their thing.

but tonight, keeho wasn’t really leaning back into you.

you didn’t notice at first. you laughed when jongseob shouted in victory, you clapped when jiung fumbled his controller, & you shifted closer when the blanket slipped from keeho’s lap. your hand found his sleeve, tugging gently as you whispered, “look, seob’s actually winning this round.”

keeho stiffened. he gave a small, almost invisible shrug like he was trying to shake your hand off. your brows pinched, but you didn’t move. instead, you tucked yourself closer, smiling. “you’re too quiet. what’s going on in that head of yours?”

that was when it happened.

keeho’s sigh was audible, sharp enough that the others glanced over. he pulled back slightly and said, without lowering his voice:

“god, you’re so clingy sometimes.”

the words landed like a slap.

the room went silent. even jongseob’s character died without him noticing, the announcer blaring on screen. you froze, heat rushing to your face so fast it made your ears ring. your hand fell away from keeho’s sleeve as if you’d been burned.

theo was the first to clear his throat. “…yikes.” intak blinked wide-eyed. “uh, hyung…” jongseob shot a glare keeho’s way, muttering, “not cool.”

soul didn’t say anything, but his pencil stopped mid-line. he was staring. jiung frowned, controller dropping into his lap. “dude, seriously? you didn’t have to say it like that.”

you swallowed, forcing a weak laugh that cracked on the edges. “wow. okay. that’s… noted.” you pushed yourself up from the couch, arms wrapping around yourself. you didn’t wait for a response. you slipped past the boys, trying to hold yourself together until you were safely behind a closed door. the sting hit then—humiliation, sharp and hot. not just because keeho had said it, but because he’d said it in front of everyone.

back in the living room, tension hung heavy.

keeho stared at the empty space you’d left, guilt slowly dawning across his face. “…i didn’t-” “bro,” intak cut in, still munching chips but his tone unusually serious, “you can’t say that to y/n. especially not in front of all of us.”

jiung shook his head, brows furrowed. “yeah, that was rough. you embarrassed her man.” theo leaned back, folding his arms. “more than rough. she looked humiliated.” keeho opened his mouth, closed it. he dragged a hand down his face, groaning. “i didn’t mean it like that.”

“doesn’t matter how you meant it,” jongseob muttered. “it’s how it sounded.” even soul piped up, voice quiet but cutting; “she looked like she wanted to disappear.”

keeho’s chest twisted. he knew. he’d seen it in your eyes the second the word left his mouth—that sting, that crumple he’d caused. and now all five of his members were staring at him like he was the villain.

because he was.

“shit,” he muttered, standing abruptly. “i need to fix this.”

you were sitting on the edge of the bathtub, when a soft knock sounded.

“baby?” keeho’s voice, muffled but gentle. you swiped at your eyes quickly, though the redness would give you away. “…busy.”

another pause.

“can i come in?”

“no.”

a beat of silence. then, “please. i messed up. i need to talk to you.”

your chest ached, torn between wanting to slam the door shut forever and the part of you that still craved him, even when he’d hurt you. finally, you exhaled, shaky. “fine.” the door opened slowly, revealing keeho’s guilty face. he stepped in and shut it behind him, leaning back against the wood as if bracing himself.

you didn’t look at him.

keeho crouched in front of you, voice quiet. “i’m sorry.” you pressed your lips together. “in front of everyone, keeho? really?” he winced. “i know. i know. it was the worst way i could’ve handled it.”

“you think?” the bitterness slipped out before you could stop it. tears threatened again, but you forced them down. “you embarrassed me. like i was some annoying… leech or something.” keeho’s face crumpled. “no, no, baby. that’s not what i think. that’s not what i meant at all.”

“then what did you mean?” your voice cracked. “because you looked pretty serious when you said it.”

he dropped his gaze, ashamed. “i was tired. distracted. you were pulling at me and instead of just saying i needed a second, i said… that. and it came out so wrong.” you let out a shaky laugh, humorless. “clingy. that’s what you think of me?”

“i don’t,” he said firmly, lifting his eyes back to yours. “i think you’re loving. i think you make me feel safe and wanted. i think you’re the best part of my day. and i took all of that for granted when i opened my stupid mouth.” something in his tone made your chest wobble. but the sting was still raw.

“you made me feel small,” you whispered.

keeho’s breath hitched. he reached for your hand—slowly, carefully—and when you didn’t pull away, he held it tight.

“i’m so sorry i hurt you. i would never want to make you feel like that. you’re not too much. you’re never too much. if anything, i don’t deserve how much love you give me.”

your throat closed, eyes burning again, but this time from the sincerity in his voice.

keeho shuffled closer, resting his forehead against your knee. “please forgive me. i’ll apologize a thousand more times if that’s what it takes. i love the way you cling to me. i love that you even want to. for a moment, the bathroom was silent except for your uneven breaths. then, finally, you whispered, “…promise?”

he looked up at you, eyes shining. “promise.”

something loosened inside you. you sighed, shoulders slumping as the tension drained. “you’re such an idiot sometimes.” a weak laugh escaped him. “the biggest idiot.”

you slid off the tub edge, into his arms. he wrapped you up immediately, hugging you so tightly it felt like he was trying to fuse your pieces back together. “i’m sorry,” he murmured into your hair again and again, like a mantra.

this time, you let yourself believe him.

when you both finally re-emerged, the boys were still sprawled in the living room, pretending not to have been eavesdropping. theo raised a brow when he saw your swollen eyes and keeho’s sheepish expression. “everything good now?”

keeho squeezed your hand, answering, “better than good. but i owe all of you an apology too.”

they blinked.

“i embarrassed her in front of you guys,” keeho said firmly, “and that wasn’t fair. it was disrespectful to her, and it put you in a weird spot too. so… i’m sorry.”

intak nodded slowly. “that’s more like it.” jongseob smirked. “took you long enough.” jiung gave you a gentle smile. “we’ve got your back. especially when our idiot leader fucked up with you.”

you felt warmth flood your chest, gratitude swelling as the boys went back to their usual banter, tension easing away. keeho tugged you back down beside him on the couch, this time wrapping his arm snugly around your waist without hesitation. he whispered just for you, “see? not letting you go ever again.”

you smiled faintly, leaning into him despite the sting that still lingered. because you knew—this time, he meant it.

˙⋆✮

theo - 테오 

the clock on the studio wall glowed 1:37 a.m.

you shifted in your seat, blinking against the haze of exhaustion. theo sat hunched over his notebook at the desk, headphones crooked on his head, lips pressed into a tight line. he hadn’t spoken in over fifteen minutes, pencil scratching furiously across paper while he rewound the same section of a beat again and again.

your back ached from the stiff couch, but you didn’t complain. being here mattered more than sleep. theo had been practicing nonstop for weeks, buried in choreography and lyrics, and tonight was one of the rare moments you could be by his side. you just wanted to make sure he didn’t drown in it.

“you’ve been staring at that line forever,” you said softly, trying to lighten the mood. “want me to grab you a coffee? or some snacks? you’ll think better if you take a break.” “i can’t,” theo muttered without looking up. you pushed yourself off the couch, padding closer. “just ten minutes, baby. come sit with me. breathe.”

he stiffened when you touched his shoulder. “i said i can’t.” your smile faltered. “theo…” he yanked the headphones down around his neck, finally turning to face you. his expression was sharp, eyes flashing with the frustration that had been simmering all night.

“you don’t get it. i need to finish this.” “i do get it,” you said gently. “but you’ve been at it for hours. you’re burning yourself out, and i just want to help.” he let out a harsh laugh, running a hand through his hair. “help? by hovering over me? you’re being… you’re being so clingy right now. i can’t think.”

the word slammed into you.

you froze, hand still hovering uselessly near his shoulder. “clingy?” theo groaned, turning back to his notebook. “just give me space y/n, okay? please.” your throat tightened, burning with humiliation. you’d stayed up for him, waiting, worrying, just to be dismissed like that. you stepped back quickly, arms wrapping around yourself.

“…right,” you whispered, barely audible. “i’ll give you space.”

before he could respond, you slipped out of the studio, the door clicking softly shut behind you.

theo sat frozen at the desk, pencil slack in his fingers. the silence that followed was deafening, the weight of what he’d just said sinking in with every passing second.

clingy.

his stomach twisted. he hadn’t meant it like that. he hadn’t meant for your face to crumple the way it did, hadn’t meant for you to leave. “shit,” he muttered, shoving back from the desk. his music didn’t matter right now. none of it did.

you sat on the floor just outside the studio, knees pulled tight to your chest. the hall was dim, quiet except for the hum of vending machines down the corridor. you hated that your eyes were stinging, hated that one stupid word had undone you so easily. but you couldn’t stop replaying it. clingy. like you were a nuisance. like your love was suffocating.

the door creaked open, and theo’s footsteps approached.

“baby?” his voice was cautious, almost pleading. you swiped at your cheeks quickly, though your sniffle gave you away. “…don’t, theo. just go finish your song.” he crouched in front of you, eyes wide with guilt. “no. i can’t. not after that. i’m so sorry.” you stared at the floor. “you didn’t seem sorry when you said it.”

“i wasn’t thinking,” he admitted, voice rough. “i was frustrated, and i took it out on you. and that’s… that’s the last thing i should’ve done.” your chest tightened. “so you don’t think i’m clingy?”

theo’s heart cracked at the way you asked it, so small, like you needed him to prove it. he shook his head fiercely. “no. never. i love that you want to be close to me. i love that you care enough to sit in a freezing studio at one in the morning just so i’m not alone. you’re the reason i can even keep going.” his hand hovered before gently brushing against your arm. “baby, you’re not too much. i’m the one who was too much. too caught up in my own head to realize how lucky i am.”

your breath wavered, eyes finally meeting his. “you really hurt me.”

“i know,” theo whispered, throat tight. “and i hate myself for it. but let me make it right. please.”

he slid down to sit on the floor beside you, wrapping his arms around your curled-up frame. at first you resisted, stiff against him. but then his warmth seeped in, his heartbeat steady against your cheek, and you finally let yourself melt into him.

“i’m sorry,” he murmured into your hair again and again, voice trembling with sincerity. “i’ll never call you that again. i swear.” your tears soaked into his hoodie, but you didn’t care. you clung to him now, tighter than before, needing proof that he wouldn’t push you away again.

theo held you just as fiercely. “you’re not clingy. you’re the best thing in my life. don’t ever doubt that.” the hall was quiet, but in his arms, the sting slowly eased.

when he finally pulled back, his eyes were red too. “come back inside with me? i won’t work anymore tonight. i just want to hold you.”

you searched his face, wary but softening. “…promise?”

he cupped your cheek, nodding. “promise.”

back in the studio, the desk lamp still glowed over scattered papers, but theo ignored it. he pulled you onto the couch with him, tucking you against his chest under his hoodie, as if shielding you from every harsh word he’d ever said. you exhaled slowly, the ache in your chest loosening at last.

“don’t ever scare me like that again,” you whispered.

he pressed a kiss to your hair. “never again. you’re my everything. too clingy? more like not close enough.”

for the first time all night, you smiled.

˙⋆✮

jiung - 지웅

the dorm door clicked open, and jiung stepped inside, shoulders sagging under the weight of the day. his hoodie was pulled low over his eyes, backpack sliding down one arm like he didn’t even have the energy to hold it.

you were curled on the couch between intak and jongseob, waiting. the second you heard the door, you perked up, smile breaking across your face.

“ji!” you scrambled up, crossing the room to greet him. “you’re back, finally! how was practice? did you eat? do you want me to heat something up?” your arms went around him before he could answer, hugging him tight.

but instead of relaxing into you, jiung stiffened. “baby,” he said, voice low and rough, “not right now.” you pulled back slightly, blinking. “oh—sorry, i just missed you.”

he sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “i know. i just… can you not be clingy the second i walk in? i’m exhausted.”

the word landed sharp and cold.

clingy.

your smile faltered. behind you, the members shifted uncomfortably, the tension in the air immediate. intak opened his mouth to say something, but you shook your head quickly, forcing a little laugh.

“right. sorry. i’ll… give you space.”

you backed away, retreating toward the kitchen even though your chest ached. jiung didn’t look up. he just kicked off his shoes and trudged toward his room, leaving silence behind him.

the kitchen tiles blurred as you stood there, staring at nothing. your arms still tingled from the hug you’d given him, a hug he didn’t want.

clingy.

like you were too much. like your love was inconvenient. intak’s voice broke through softly. “hey… don’t listen to him. he’s tired. you know how jiung gets when he’s wiped.” jongseob nodded. “yeah. he didn’t mean it.” you forced a nod, but the sting was already lodged in your chest. “it’s fine. i get it.” but you didn’t, not really.

jiung collapsed face-first onto his bed, groaning into the pillow. his body was aching, his mind buzzing from hours of practice, but all he could think about was the look on your face when he brushed you off.

god, why had he said that?

he hadn’t meant it—not the way it came out. he just felt suffocated by the day, by the endless schedules and expectations, and when you hugged him, instead of grounding him like it usually did, it tipped him over the edge. but that wasn’t your fault. that was his.

and he’d said it in front of the others. guilt coiled in his stomach, hot and sickening. he sat up abruptly, dragging a hand down his face.

fix it. now.

you were curled on the couch again, knees tucked up, staring blankly at the tv that wasn’t even on. theo and keeho were talking quietly in the corner, casting glances your way, while jongseob scrolled through his phone. when jiung stepped out of his room, the air shifted. everyone looked up. his eyes found you immediately, and the sight twisted the knife in deeper. he crossed the room slowly, kneeling down in front of you.

“baby,” he said softly. you didn’t look at him. “shouldn’t i give you space?” theo muttered something under his breath that sounded like dumbass, but jiung ignored it, shame burning in his ears.

“no. i was wrong. i didn’t mean what i said.”

your arms tightened around your knees. “but you said it.”

“i know.” his voice cracked. “i was exhausted and frustrated, and i took it out on you. i called you clingy because i didn’t have the energy to think, but the truth is— i need your clinginess. i need you.” finally, your eyes lifted to his, glassy with unshed tears. “you really hurt me.”

“i know,” he whispered, throat tight. “and i hate that i did. you’re never too much for me. not ever. i was just… too tired to see what was right in front of me. the person who waits for me, worries about me, loves me no matter how drained i am.” his hand reached up, brushing tentatively over your arm. “i don’t deserve it, but please don’t pull away from me. not when i need you most.”

you stared at him for a long moment, the ache in your chest warring with the sincerity in his eyes. finally, you exhaled shakily. “…you’re such an idiot.” a shaky laugh slipped from him, relief flooding his face. “yeah. i am.”

you let him pull you into his arms then, clinging to him despite your words. he held you tighter, burying his face in your shoulder. “i’m sorry,” he murmured again and again. “you’re not clingy. you’re everything. i love how much you love me.”

“don’t say it if you don’t mean it,” you mumbled against his hoodie. “i mean it,” he swore, pressing a desperate kiss to your hair. “every word.”

keeho cleared his throat pointedly from across the room. “apology accepted—on behalf of all of us who had to watch that train wreck.” intak snorted, jongseob muttered facts, and theo just shook his head. but their teasing softened the tension, and you even laughed weakly into jiung’s chest.

he smiled at the sound, finally breathing again.

that night, he refused to let you out of his arms. curled together on his bed, he traced apologies across your skin with his fingertips, whispered promises into your hair until your breathing evened out.

and when you finally drifted off, he stayed awake just a little longer, holding you like he’d never let go.

“never too much,” he whispered into the dark. “never.”

˙⋆✮

intak - 인탁 

the bass rattled the mirrors of the practice room, sweat beading across the boys’ foreheads as they drilled the same eight-count for the tenth time. intak’s jaw was tight, movements sharp but not sharp enough for him. he cursed under his breath when he stumbled on the transition again, shaking his head furiously.

“focus,” theo said gently, but intak just nodded curtly and restarted the track.

you leaned against the doorway, watching quietly. you’d brought snacks and water, hoping to cheer them up after the long session. mostly, you wanted to see intak. he’d been disappearing into practices all week, and you missed him.

“break time, please,” keeho groaned, flopping onto the floor dramatically. jiung laughed and joined him, tugging jongseob down too. “fine,” intak muttered, tossing his cap aside and collapsing against the wall. his chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, sweat darkening his shirt.

you took that as your chance.

“hey, tak,” you said softly, stepping inside. his head snapped up, eyes wide before softening a little. “oh. you’re here.” you grinned and held up the bag. “brought goodies! figured you guys could use fuel.”

cheers erupted from jiung and jongseob as they scrambled over. keeho clapped like you’d just saved his life. you giggled, setting the bag down, then went to sit beside intak. “you okay?” he nodded, eyes fixed on the floor. “just tired.” you reached to wipe some sweat from his temple with your sleeve. “you worked so hard. i’m proud of you.”

his jaw clenched. “don’t.”

you froze. “…don’t what?”

he finally looked at you, eyes sharp. “don’t smother me right now. i can’t breathe.” your chest tightened. “i was just-”

“you’re being clingy,” he snapped, louder this time. “i don’t need it right now.”

the room went dead silent.

keeho’s eyes widened. theo shot him a look. jiung and jongseob exchanged awkward glances, halfway through unwrapping a granola bar. you sat back slowly, heat flooding your cheeks. “…right. sorry.”

you stood abruptly, muttering something about needing air, and slipped out before anyone could stop you.

the practice room was thick with tension after the door shut.

“what the hell was that?” theo demanded, arms crossed. intak groaned, dragging his hands down his face. “i didn’t mean-” “you called her clingy,” keeho cut in, voice sharp. “in front of us. when she literally just brought us snacks?”

jiung smacked him lightly on the arm. “not cool.” intak’s chest twisted with guilt, but frustration still buzzed in his veins. “i was stressed. i couldn’t think.”

“well, think now,” jongseob muttered. “because y/n looked she wanted to cry.”

intak’s stomach dropped. without another word, he grabbed his cap and bolted for the door.

you sat on the bench outside the practice room, picking at the hem of your sleeve. your chest still stung, the word echoing in your head. clingy. too much. the door opened, and intak rushed out, breathless.

“baby-”

you stood quickly. “don’t. it’s fine. go back to practice.” “no,” he said firmly, stepping closer. “practice can wait. you can’t.”

your eyes flicked away. “you made it pretty clear i can.” his heart squeezed. he reached for your hands, but you pulled them back.

“i’m sorry,” he blurted. “i didn’t mean it. i was frustrated, and i let it spill out the wrong way. you’re not clingy. god, you’re the opposite— you’re the only one who makes all this bearable.” you frowned, still hurt. “then why’d you say it?”

“because i’m an idiot,” he admitted instantly. “i was mad at myself, at my mistakes, and i lashed out at the one person i should never hurt. i swear, it wasn’t about you. it was about me not being good enough tonight.”

your throat tightened, tears threatening. “you made me feel like… like i was in the way.”

intak’s eyes softened, pained. he gently cupped your face, tilting it so you met his gaze. “you’re never in the way. you’re the reason i even get through days like this. when you wipe my sweat, when you cheer for me, when you just show up— it’s everything. i don’t deserve it, but i need it. i need you.”

you blinked, tears spilling despite yourself. “then don’t push me away.” his voice cracked. “i won’t. not again. i promise.”

you finally let him pull you into his arms, his hoodie damp against your cheek. he held you so tight it almost hurt, murmuring apologies into your hair. “you’re not clingy,” he whispered again and again. “you’re my safe place. i’m sorry i made you doubt that. i’ll make it up to you every day if i have to.”

you clung back, shaky but firm. “you better.”

he let out a soft, relieved laugh, kissing the top of your head. “yeah. i will.”

when you both returned to the practice room, the others tried to act casual, but keeho still shot intak a look.

intak tightened his grip on your hand, tugging you gently closer. “we’re good,” he said firmly, mostly to himself. you squeezed back, finally believing it.

˙⋆✮

soul - 白翔太

the dressing room buzzed with energy after the show. staff members hurried around, touching up makeup, collecting mics, tossing bottles of water into eager hands. keeho was joking with jiung, theo stretched his sore shoulders, and jongseob was scrolling through fan posts already.

you slipped through the crowd, eyes searching. finally, you found him.

soul sat off to the side on a folding chair, head bowed, towel draped over his neck. sweat clung to his skin, strands of hair sticking to his forehead. you crossed the room quickly, crouching down in front of him. “hey,” you said softly, offering him a water. “you killed it out there. the fans were so loud for you.”

he didn’t look at you. “thanks.”

you frowned. “are you okay? your shoulder- you looked like you were stretching it too much during the last song. want me to-” he shifted back, jaw tight. “i said i’m fine.”

you hesitated, then reached anyway, dabbing at the sweat on his cheek with a tissue. “you don’t have to pretend with me. i just-” “stop,” he snapped, swatting your hand away.

your chest jolted. “i-”

his eyes finally lifted, sharp and frustrated. “you’re being clingy. can you just give me a minute to breathe?” the room went quiet. a couple staff members froze mid-step. jiung’s head whipped around, eyes wide. theo’s smile faltered.

you felt the sting instantly, your face flushing hot.

clingy.

you pulled back your hand slowly, standing up on shaky legs. “…right. sorry.” you mumbled something about grabbing more tissues and slipped out the door before anyone could stop you.

inside, tension lingered. keeho raised an eyebrow. “seriously, soul?”

soul groaned, dragging both hands through his damp hair. “i didn’t— i didn’t mean it like that.” “sure sounded like you did,” theo muttered.

jiung shook his head, clearly unimpressed. “y/n was just trying to take care of you. you could’ve just said you needed space.” soul’s chest tightened. shame crept in, sour and heavy. he knew they were right. he’d seen the hurt in your eyes before you turned away.

and it was his fault.

you leaned against the cool wall outside, biting the inside of your cheek hard to keep tears at bay. the backstage hallway was quiet except for the faint thrum of fans still screaming outside the venue.

clingy. like you were smothering him. like your love was a burden. you hugged yourself, heart aching. the door opened behind you, and hurried footsteps followed.

“baby.”

you looked up to see soul, hair still damp, panic written all over his face. you turned away. “shouldn’t you be inside celebrating?” he winced. “not without you.”

“you seemed fine without me a minute ago.”

the words cut, and he flinched.

“i didn’t mean it,” he said quickly. “i was overwhelmed. i couldn’t even hear myself think. i lashed out, and i used the worst word i could’ve picked.” your arms tightened around yourself. “you made me feel like i was suffocating you.”

he stepped closer, desperate. “no. you’re the only reason i can breathe on days like this. i swear, you’re not too much. you’re… you’re everything.”

you shook your head, voice small. “then why’d you say it?”

“because i’m an idiot,” he whispered. “because i was mad at myself for messing up a step, for being tired, for not being perfect— and instead of owning that, i pushed you away. i hurt the one person who was only trying to help.”

his voice cracked. “i hate that i did that to you. i hate that i made you doubt how much i need you.” slowly, he reached for your hands. this time, you let him take them. his grip was trembling but steady, grounding. “you’re not clingy,” he said, looking straight into your eyes. “you’re the one person who sees me when all of this—” he gestured vaguely toward the venue “—feels too big. you keep me sane. i’m so, so sorry i made you feel like a burden.”

your throat wobbled, the ache in your chest loosening just slightly. “don’t do it again.” he nodded quickly. “i won’t. never again. if i’m overwhelmed, i’ll tell you. i’ll never push you away like that.”

you searched his face, and all you saw was raw honesty. finally, you let out a shaky breath and leaned into him. he wrapped his arms around you instantly, holding you like he’d never let go. his hoodie was still damp from sweat, but you didn’t care.

“i need you,” he murmured into your hair. “cling to me all you want. i want it. i want you.”

you clung back, relief washing over you at last.

when you both walked back into the dressing room, everyone looked up. soul kept your hand firmly in his, expression set. “we’re okay.” he said quietly. keeho smirked. “better be.” jiung gave a small approving nod.

you squeezed soul’s hand, and this time, he squeezed back without hesitation. that night, when the lights were off and the noise of the day was gone, he whispered into the dark with your head on his chest:

“never too much. never clingy. just mine.”

and you believed him.

˙⋆✮

jongseob - 종섭

the dorm was unusually calm for a friday night. the other members were sprawled in the living room—keeho watching a movie, theo half-asleep with his hoodie up, jiung scrolling through his phone.

you were curled up on the end of the couch beside jongseob, legs tucked under you, head resting on his shoulder. he’d been quiet all evening, distracted by whatever track he was mixing on his laptop.

you didn’t mind at first. being near him was enough. you liked the way his warmth felt against your side, how his fingers tapped softly to a rhythm only he could hear.

but after nearly an hour of silence, you started tracing gentle circles on his arm. “you’ve been staring at the same screen for twenty minutes,” you said softly. “you okay?”

he hummed, barely looking up. “yeah.”

you smiled. “want me to get you a snack?”

“no, thanks.”

you shifted a little closer, resting your chin on his shoulder to peek at the project. “what’re you working on?” he sighed quietly. “just… something.” your smile faltered. “you’ve been kinda distant lately.”

that made him pause. just for a second—then his jaw tightened. “i’m just tired, y/n.” “i know, but-” you tried to wrap your arm around him, seeking closeness, something to melt the space between you.

but he pulled back a little, the movement small but sharp. “can you not?” you blinked. “not what?” his tone came out clipped, too harsh. “not cling so much. it’s a lot sometimes.”

the sound of it hit you like a slap.

even keeho glanced up from the movie, brows furrowing. theo lifted his head, still half-asleep with eyes flicking between you both. you froze, the air suddenly too heavy. “i was just… trying to be close to you.”

“yeah, well,” jongseob muttered, rubbing his face. “sometimes it’s too much. it's clingy.”

the room went dead silent.

you felt your throat tighten. “okay.” you stood up quickly, forcing a small smile. “i’ll give you space then.”

keeho started to say something, but you were already heading toward the hallway. when the sound of your door shutting echoed down the hall, the silence that followed was deafening.

keeho turned down the volume on the TV. “what was that?” jongseob groaned, dragging his hands down his face. “i don’t know. i just—i snapped.”

“yeah,” theo said flatly. “and you snapped at the wrong person.” jiung leaned forward. “she literally did nothing wrong.”

soul, who had been silent up until then, looked over from his game. “you’re in trouble.” jongseob slumped back against the couch. “i know. god, i know.” keeho sighed. “you’ve been stressed, sure, but that doesn’t give you the right to take it out on her. you better fix it.”

he didn’t even respond—just stood and disappeared down the hall, guilt written all over him. you were sitting on the edge of the bed, hugging a pillow, trying not to cry.

the word clingy kept replaying in your head; like it had weight. like it meant too much. you’d only wanted to help, to be near him. but now all you felt was foolish.

a soft knock interrupted your spiral.

“y/n?” his voice came quietly from the other side of the door.

you didn’t answer.

he waited, then sighed. “can i come in?” after a long pause, you said, “yeah.” he slipped inside, eyes immediately landing on you; small, curled up, and clearly hurt.

his chest twisted. “i’m sorry.”

you didn’t look up. “you made me feel like i was annoying.”

he winced. “i didn’t mean that. i swear.”

“then why’d you say it?”

he hesitated, words fumbling out. “because i was tired, and my brain was loud, and i just… wanted quiet for a second. but i didn’t mean you were too much. i love that you’re close to me. i just-” he ran a hand through his hair, frustrated with himself. “i said it wrong. i hurt you. and i hate that.”

you glanced at him, eyes glassy. “you really did.”

he nodded, walking closer slowly, like he was afraid to scare you off. “i know. i’m so sorry. you’re not clingy. you’re caring. you’re the only person who makes this place feel calm.”

you stayed quiet, chewing your lip.

“sometimes,” he said softly, “i get so lost in my own head that i forget how lucky i am to have someone who wants to be near me at all.” that cracked something open in you. you blinked, tears slipping free.

“come here,” he whispered.

you hesitated—then let him pull you in.

his arms wrapped around you tightly, like he was afraid you’d disappear. he buried his face in your shoulder, voice breaking against your skin. “i’m sorry. i love when you touch me. i love when you care. i love you. i just got stupid.”

your fingers curled into his hoodie, clinging back. “then don’t push me away next time.” “i won’t,” he promised instantly. “you can hold me all you want. forever, if you want.”

you laughed through a sniffle. “that’s a little clingy.”

he smiled, relief flooding his expression. “guess we’re both clingy then.”

when you both rejoined the others in the living room, it was quieter softer somehow.

keeho didn’t say anything, just gave a little nod when he saw your hand in jongseob’s again. theo muttered, “good job,” without looking up. jiung smiled faintly.

you curled up next to him on the couch again, and this time, when you rested your head on his shoulder, he didn’t move away.

instead, his hand found yours under the blanket.

and just before you drifted off, you heard him whisper, barely audible, “cling to me all you want, baby. i’m not going anywhere.”

˙⋆✮

a/n : thank you for reading & thank you for 400 followers<3

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THEO ꜜ

keeho’s polar opposite. lover of all things involving your chest. he wants to grab and lick and kiss and suck you, to know what your nipples feel like, if they’re sensitive, if you like having them played with. he loves it whenever you wear tight shirts, but he also loves it when you wear a shirt with no bra underneath. pretends he’s not staring but he’s so obvious all the time that you’ve just gotten used to it. ꜜ

you jolt, nearly dropping the glass in your hands as you feel someone creep up behind you, but you relax the second theo opens his mouth to reassure you it’s just him.

“dumbass,” you grumble. “you scared the hell out of me.”

he laughs softly, resting his chin on your shoulder. “sorry. didn’t mean it.”

“yeah, whatever. move already, i’m thirsty.”

he doesn’t move. not out of your way, anyway. instead, he presses his body closer to yours, pinning you to the counter. his hands, which had been stationary on your hips, push up past the hem of your shirt and slowly creep higher. his fingertips trace against the underside of your breasts, and you feel him sigh softly against your skin.

“i love it whenever you don’t wear a bra, you know,” he says, voice so quiet like it’s some sacred secret he wasn’t even supposed to share with you. “so perfect. been wanting this for a while…”

tired of denying himself, he cups your boobs in his hands, softly pinching your nipples, soaking in the breathy sigh you let out in response—he could get used to this.

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JIUNG ꜜ

the second most pathetic tbh. he’s just down bad for you in general but his favorite thing about you by far is your voice. like it’s embarrassing how hard he gets listening to you. sometimes he can’t even pay attention to what you’re saying because he’s focusing too much on not popping a boner right in front of you. he always calls you at night because he likes the way you sound when you’re kind of tired and may or may not be jerking off the whole time… he’ll never tell. ꜜ

“so then i got all wet and rained on because i forgot my umbrella. but it’s not my fault, it wasn’t supposed to rain until tomorrow, y’know?”

at this point, whatever you’re talking about is getting filtered out by jiung’s brain, and the only part he’s registering is how you sound. all quiet and tired, not to mention annoyed because of whatever inconvenience happened to you that he is definitely aware of. maybe. “ah… mhm, yeah. that sounds… fuck—that sounds awful. and then what happened?”

you pause your rambling, pulling the phone away from your ear for a moment before bringing it back. “…are you okay?”

shit. you’re onto him.

“yeah. ‘course i am. why… mmm… why wouldn’t i be?”

“are you not hearing yourself right now, jiung?”

he huffs, his irritation at not being able to get off overpowering the embarrassment of you getting closer to catching onto him. “i’m fine! just keep talking. i told you i’m listening!” he doesn’t mean to sound so rude, but he can’t keep holding himself back anymore. if he doesn’t cum right now, he thinks he might just lose it.

“…fine, bossy. anyway, like i was saying—”

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INTAK ꜜ

he’s a panty stealer. and sniffer. and licker. like you can’t tell me he doesn’t get off on the risk and the adrenaline rush it gives him. it’s so wrong and dirty, and he knows that, but he can’t bring himself to stop. he always brings them back with the exception of the ones he knows you wear the most and therefore smell the most like you. the most pathetic puppy ever. ꜜ

this is the fourth time this week. the fourth time intak stole a pair of your panties. the fourth time he’s holed himself up in his room, touching himself while he thinks about you wearing them. and he knows it won’t be the last.

“i’m sorry…” he mumbles out to no one in particular as his hand moves up and down his aching, over-sensitive cock. it hurts, he’s sticky, and tired, but he can’t bring himself to stop just yet. he needs to make the most out of this before he returns them in exchange for another pair. “‘m sorry, ‘m sorry… i’m a bad boy…”

in his other hand, he holds the flimsy, lacy fabric tightly, too afraid to loosen his grip for even a second. he brings it up to his face, taking a deep, shuddering inhale before his tongue darts out to lick it.

he can feel his orgasm building up again, tears spilling from the corners of his eyes as he nears the edge once again. but will he stop? no, of course not. not until the guilt evaporates and he’s milked completely dry.

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SOUL ꜜ

soul has great timing. great for him, awful for you. you can’t even count the amount of times he’s walked in on you in all sorts of compromising situations. when you’re fresh out of the shower and still wrapped up in a towel, or when you’re changing clothes… basically any time you’d be wearing little to nothing. he apologizes every time, and yet it keeps happening. so weird… ꜜ

shota presses his ear to the wall, listening to the sounds of the running water. you’re still in the shower, and it’s doing nothing good for his imagination. he can only wonder what you look like in there, washing yourself, rubbing the soap all over your naked body, the water running over every nook and cranny…

the second the sound comes to a stop, he backs away from the wall, lingering in place for a moment before opening the door, just in time to see your face as your expression goes from surprised to half-hearted irritation.

“shota!” you groan, pulling your towel tighter around your body. it’s supposed to act as a shield, but it’s only giving him a better outline of your figure. “can’t you at least wait until i’m out of the bathroom to barge in?”

he giggles, and the sound alone is enough to absolve him from all your annoyance.

“sorry.” he says it simply out of courtesy, not because he actually feels sorry. how could he, when you look so good like this? still dripping wet, the only barrier keeping him from seeing what you look like completely exposed being a towel? and it’d be so easy, wouldn’t it? to just snatch it away, and see for himself.

but he won’t. not yet. not today. he thinks he’ll fantasize a bit more before goes through with the real thing.

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JONGSEOB ꜜ

he gets so worked up whenever you’re nice to him and give him compliments. like ever since he said he wanted to explore a more feminine style and grew his hair out he really likes hearing that you think he looks pretty or that his outfit is cute. feels so dirty because you’re genuinely just being sweet and he’s getting hard… poor thing. ꜜ

“you know, i’m kind of glad you dyed your hair blond again.” you mumble, absentmindedly carding your fingers through jongseob’s hair. “i always thought it suited you. especially now that you’re letting it get long. you look pretty.”

jongseob can’t fight the shiver that wracks his spine at that word.

pretty. you thought he looked pretty.

something so simple shouldn’t be having this big of an effect on him, and yet he can already feel that familiar fire in his gut, threatening to spread and consume him whole.

he manages a smile, small and strained, and hopes you don’t notice how much he’s shifting around in your bed, trying to hide his growing erection. “thanks…”

you smile back, mumbling something back in response. jongseob doesn’t manage to catch all of it, just the ending.

“pretty boy.”

that does it.

he scrambles off of the bed like a frightened animal, much to your shock. “seob? where are you going?!”

“just, um… bathroom!” he yells back, followed by the sound of the door slamming shut. leaning against the door, he exhales, reaching down to palm his bulge. his gaze travels over to the mirror, reflecting his own flushed face and heaving chest.

“pretty,” he whispers. “so, so pretty.”

You knew something was wrong the moment the car door locked automatically.

Not a normal lock.

A rich lock.

The kind that sounds expensive and final, like it comes with a lawyer.

You freeze in the driver’s seat, oat milk sweating in the cupholder, hands still on the wheel.

“…Huh.”

In the rearview mirror, a man stares back at you.

Not a man.

That man.

Perfectly styled black hair. Sharp eyes. A tailored suit that looks like it costs more than your rent. Calm in a way that suggests violence is not only familiar but efficient.

He blinks once.

Slowly.

“Why,” he asks evenly, “are you in my car.”

You swallow.

“Why,” you reply, equally evenly because your soul has left your body, “were you parked in the Uber zone.”

Silence stretches.

Then—footsteps outside. 

Shouting. Multiple voices.

The man in the mirror sighs.

“…Get out.”

You panic.

You do not know what part of your brain fires, only that it does, and suddenly you’re slamming the gas pedal like you’re in an action movie with no stunt training.

The car lurches forward.

Someone screams.

The suited man swears.

And just like that, you commit your first felony.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

─────────

You pull over in a grocery store parking lot because your hands are shaking too badly to keep driving.

Your heart is trying to escape through your throat.

In the backseat, the man—Hongjoong, you now know, because his phone has rung approximately twelve times and every caller has called him boss—sits zip-tied and vibrating with restrained fury.

You hadn’t even meant to restrain him.

It just sort of… happened.

“Okay,” you say, turning around in your seat. “Let’s all acknowledge that this has gotten out of hand.”

Hongjoong stares.

“…You used my emergency restraints.”

“Oh. So that’s what those buttons were.”

“They are for hostage situations.”

“Well,” you gesture vaguely, “full circle.”

He closes his eyes.

Somewhere in the distance, sirens wail. Or maybe that’s just the blood roaring in your ears.

“You have,” Hongjoong says carefully, “exactly thirty seconds to explain why I shouldn’t have my men tear this city apart looking for you.”

You nod rapidly. “Cool cool cool. Great question. So.”

You take a breath.

“I thought you were an Uber.”

His eyes open.

“…Explain.”

“You were in a black car. With the door open. In front of a building that looks like every tech startup ever. I was late. I got in. Your driver yelled. I panicked. You yelled. I panicked more. Then suddenly I’m driving and someone is chasing us and—” you gesture helplessly “—I don’t have the emotional regulation for this.”

Hongjoong studies you.

Really studies you.

Then he asks, “Do you know who I am.”

You squint. “Like… spiritually?”

A beat.

“I am not joking.”

“Neither am I,” you say earnestly. “I am very scared.”

Another beat.

He exhales, long and slow, the sound of a man recalculating the universe.

“…You’re not pretending.”

“No.”

“You truly have no idea.”

“Nope.”

His lips twitch.

Just barely.

“That,” he murmurs, “is certainly new.”

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

─────────

Seonghwa is the first to realize something is wrong.

Hongjoong does not miss calls.

Hongjoong does not leave without an escort.

Hongjoong does not disappear mid-sentence while reprimanding someone.

By the time Wooyoung bursts into the office yelling “THE BOSS IS GONE,” half the building is already mobilizing.

Yeosang has security feeds pulled up.

San is pacing like a caged animal.

Mingi is loudly declaring he knew today felt cursed.

Then Jongho freezes.

“…Why is the boss’s car going ninety in a school zone.”

Everyone turns.

The footage shows it clearly: Hongjoong’s personal vehicle weaving through traffic like it’s being driven by someone who has never known peace.

Seonghwa whispers, “Who drives like that.”

Wooyoung squints.

“…Is that a reusable grocery bag in the passenger seat?”

Silence.

“What,” San says slowly, “do you mean grocery bag.”

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

─────────

You’re sitting on the curb now, having insisted on “fresh air for accountability.”

Hongjoong sits beside you, still zip-tied, suit immaculate despite everything.

You hand him a fry.

He stares at it.

“…Are you bribing me.”

“Yes.”

“With fries.”

“They’re seasoned.”

He takes it.

Chews.

“…They’re acceptable.”

You sag in relief.

Your phone buzzes.

Unknown numbers. So many unknown numbers.

You flip it face down and groan. “I’m so going to jail.”

Hongjoong tilts his head. “Unlikely.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“If I wanted you punished,” he says calmly, “you wouldn’t be breathing.”

You stare at him.

“…Okay but that feels worse actually.”

He huffs a laugh before he can stop himself.

That’s when you notice it.

He’s not angry anymore.

He’s curious.

And curiosity, you will later learn, is far more dangerous.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

─────────

You realize you’re about to die when seven black SUVs pull into the grocery store parking lot like a funeral procession for your sanity.

They stop in a perfect semicircle.

Doors open in sync.

Men step out.

All tall. All armed. All radiating the kind of energy that says HR complaints are handled permanently.

You whisper, “Oh cool. A flash mob.”

Hongjoong sighs. “I told them not to be dramatic.”

“This is not dramatic?” you hiss, gesturing wildly.

Seonghwa is the first to reach him.

“Boss,” he says, voice tight, eyes scanning you like you’re a threat, a liability, and a biohazard all at once. “Are you hurt.”

“I’m fine,” Hongjoong replies. “Untie me.”

San is already crouched in front of you, eyes sharp. “Hands where I can see them.”

You immediately put both hands straight up.

“Omg absolutely. Huge fan of compliance.”

Wooyoung squints. “Why are you… apologizing.”

“I’m a people pleaser,” you explain. “Even in hostage situations.”

Mingi leans toward Jongho. “She’s not even crying.”

Jongho, deeply unsettled: “That’s the worst part.”

Seonghwa cuts the zip ties. Hongjoong stands, rolls his shoulders, adjusts his cuffs like he didn’t just spend an hour bound by someone who smells faintly of oat milk.

Then—he turns back to you.

You brace yourself.

Instead, he says, “You left your phone in my car.”

“Oh thank God,” you breathe. “I thought that buzzing was my conscience.”

Every single man freezes.

San slowly turns to Hongjoong. “Boss.”

“Yes.”

“…Why is she still alive.”

Hongjoong pauses. Considers.

“She’s useful.”

You squawk. “IN WHAT WAY.”

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

─────────

They take you to a warehouse.

Of course they do.

You sit at a metal table. A single light overhead. 

The vibe is like a crime documentary, but the execution is… off.

Someone brings you a blanket.

Someone else brings you tea.

You’re pretty sure you hear Wooyoung arguing with Yeosang in the corner.

“I think she’s cursed,” Wooyoung whispers.

“She kidnapped the boss by accident,” Yeosang hisses back. “That’s not cursed, that’s divine intervention.”

Hongjoong sits across from you, elbows on the table.

“Tell me about yourself,” he says.

You blink. “Like… fun facts?”

“Yes.”

“Well,” you start, “I cry at commercials. I once apologized to a mannequin. I work a job I hate and I’m bad at confrontation.”

San frowns. “How did you even overpower the boss.”

You wince. “Adrenaline and unresolved issues?”

Hongjoong hums thoughtfully. “Checks out.”

He studies you for a long moment.

“You weren’t scared of me,” he says.

You tilt your head. “I was terrified generally. You were just… another problem.”

The room goes quiet.

That’s when Hongjoong smiles.

Slow. Sharp. Dangerous.

“Oh,” he murmurs. “That’s new.”

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

─────────

The problem, Hongjoong quickly learns, is that you are immune to intimidation.

He glares?

You offer snacks.

He threatens?

You ask if he’s eaten.

He raises his voice?

You flinch and apologize and somehow make him feel bad.

By the end of the night, Seonghwa pulls Hongjoong aside.

“Boss,” he says carefully, “she’s not a spy.”

“No,” Hongjoong agrees.

“She’s not a plant.”

“No.”

“She’s just… a civilian.”

Hongjoong watches you across the room, laughing awkwardly as Wooyoung shows you something on his phone.

“…Unfortunately.”

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

─────────

You expect to be released.

You are not.

Instead, Hongjoong says, “You’ll stay.”

You choke on your tea. “I’m sorry—what.”

“For your safety,” he continues smoothly. “You’ve seen too much.”

“I saw a warehouse and like… four guns.”

“And my face.”

You squint. “You have a nice face.”

Silence.

Mingi gasps.

Wooyoung slaps the table.

San looks like he’s witnessing a crime.

Hongjoong clears his throat. “…You’ll have a room.”

“A room?.”

“Yes.”

“This feels like Stockholm syndrome but preemptive.”

He leans closer. “You kidnapped me. This is only fair.”

You stare at him.

“…Can I at least text my boss that I’m sick?”

Hongjoong nods. “Reasonable.”

You type furiously.

You: hey im sick cant come in

Boss: again??

You: kidnapped a mafia boss

Boss: understandable, feel better

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

─────────

The mafia house is not what you expect.

You expect marble. Cold lighting. A general sense of bloodstains that have stories.

Instead, it looks like an aggressively expensive Pinterest board.

Neutral tones. Floor-to-ceiling windows. A couch that costs more than your student loans. Art that you’re pretty sure is either priceless or money laundering.

You stand in the entryway clutching your tote bag like a shield.

“…Do I take my shoes off?”

Seven men stop moving.

Hongjoong turns slowly. “You… want to take your shoes off.”

“I don’t know your rules.”

Seonghwa clears his throat. “We usually… don’t.”

You nod. Slip them off anyway. Line them up neatly by the door.

Something in the universe shifts.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

─────────

You wander into the kitchen later that night and immediately make a face.

“Who organized this.”

Wooyoung perks up. “Me.”

“Respectfully,” you say, already opening drawers, “this is a crime.”

Within twenty minutes, the spice rack is alphabetized, the mugs are grouped by size, and the snack drawer is labeled.

Mingi watches in awe. “She’s nesting.”

Hongjoong leans against the counter, arms crossed. “You’re very comfortable for a hostage.”

You pause. “Oh. I forgot I was one.”

He laughs before he can stop himself.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

─────────

You don’t mean to become part of the routine.

It just… happens.

You sit with Jongho while he patches up a cut.

You listen to Yeosang talk about drones like it’s a TED Talk.

You scold San for skipping meals.

One night, you find Hongjoong in his office at 2 a.m., lights low, staring at paperwork like it personally betrayed him.

You knock softly.

He looks up. “You should be sleeping.”

“So should you,” you counter, holding up a mug. “Chamomile.”

He eyes it suspiciously. “…Is this a power play.”

“It’s tea.”

He takes it anyway.

You sit on the floor. He doesn’t comment.

This becomes a habit.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

─────────

It happens accidentally.

You come out of your room one morning wearing one of his hoodies—oversized, black, unmistakably his.

You freeze when you realize.

Hongjoong freezes harder.

The crew stops breathing.

“That’s the boss’s—” Wooyoung starts.

“I was cold,” you say weakly. “I can take it off.”

“No,” Hongjoong says immediately.

Everyone stares at him.

“…I mean. It suits you.”

Seonghwa closes his eyes like he’s praying.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

─────────

The first time it happens, you don’t even realize it’s dangerous.

A rival group sends a message.

A photo.

Your name is in it.

You’re in the room when Hongjoong sees it.

The temperature drops.

You reach out without thinking and touch his arm.

“Hey,” you say softly. “I’m okay.”

That’s when he snaps.

The room explodes into motion. Orders barked. Guns checked. Fury unleashed.

Seonghwa watches Hongjoong carefully.

He has seen this rage before.

But never like this.

Never personal.

Later, Hongjoong finds you on the balcony, wrapped in his hoodie, city lights below.

“You should be afraid,” he says quietly.

You look up at him. “I trust you.”

Something in his chest breaks.

“That,” he says, “is a dangerous thing to give someone like me.”

You shrug. “You didn’t have to protect me.”

He steps closer. “I did.”

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

─────────

The first person to realize this is a problem is Seonghwa.

Seonghwa notices everything.

He notices how Hongjoong slows his stride when you’re walking beside him.

How he no longer takes calls in the same room as you.

How the hoodie incident resulted in that hoodie never being worn by anyone else again.

He notices how you’ve stopped asking when you can leave.

And how Hongjoong has stopped pretending that’s an option.

One morning, Seonghwa approaches him.

“You’re compromised.”

Hongjoong doesn’t look up from his laptop. “I’m efficient.”

“You’re attached.”

Hongjoong pauses. “…I’m cautious.”

Seonghwa crosses his arms. “You’ve doubled security rotations because someone looked at them wrong.”

“He was suspicious.”

“He was a barista.”

“Well, he spelled my name wrong.”

Seonghwa sighs. “Boss.”

Hongjoong finally looks up.

“She is under my protection,” he says firmly. “End of discussion.”

That’s when Seonghwa realizes:

This isn't strategy.

It’s fear.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

─────────

You are not stupid.

You notice the whispers.

The tension.

The way conversations stop when you enter rooms.

You corner Hongjoong in the kitchen at midnight, arms crossed, hoodie sleeves pulled over your hands.

“Am I a liability.”

He stiffens. “No.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

He doesn’t answer.

You laugh softly, but it hurts. “I didn’t ask to be here.”

“I know.”

“Then stop treating me like glass.”

He steps closer. “I can’t.”

You look up at him. “Why?”

Because I can’t lose you, his mind screams.

Because you made yourself at home in my life and I didn’t notice until it was too late. Because you’re the first person who’s ever looked at me without fear or expectation.

Instead, he says nothing.

You step back.

“…Okay.”

And for the first time since you arrived, you walk away from him.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

─────────

It happens two nights later.

A hit goes wrong.

Someone talks.

Your name surfaces again.

This time, they come closer.

Too close.

You hear shouting. Glass breaking. The sound of violence you’ve been pretending isn’t real.

You’re shaking when Hongjoong finds you.

Blood on his sleeve. Eyes wild.

“You’re leaving,” he says.

“What?”

“Tonight. I’ll set you up somewhere safe. New phone. New identity if you want it.”

Your voice cracks. “You’re sending me away.”

“I’m protecting you.”

“No,” you snap. “You’re deciding for me.”

He grabs your shoulders, desperation bleeding through his control. “You don’t understand—”

“Then explain it to me!”

The silence is unbearable.

The truth presses against his ribs until it hurts.

“…Because if they take you,” he says hoarsely, “I won’t survive it.”

You stare at him.

“Oh.”

You step closer. Slowly. Carefully.

“Hongjoong,” you say, softly. “I’m not afraid of you.”

He laughs bitterly. “You should be.”

“Maybe,” you admit. “But I still choose you.”

His breath stutters.

He leans in—

The alarms blare.

Wooyoung’s voice echoes through the halls: “BOSS. WE HAVE A SITUATION.”

Hongjoong squeezes his eyes shut.

Of course.

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Chaos is loud.

Not cinematic loud—real loud. Shouting overlapping commands. Footsteps pounding. 

The sharp crack of gunfire that makes your stomach drop even though you knew, abstractly, that this world ran on it.

You’re shoved into a safe room.

Steel door. No windows. One chair.

“Stay here,” Seonghwa says, gripping your shoulders. “Do not open this door for anyone except us.”

You nod. “I know.”

The door slams shut.

The silence afterward is worse.

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─────────

You sit for exactly forty-three seconds.

Then you stand up.

Because you are scared, yes—but you are also furious.

You didn’t survive this long, didn’t carve yourself into their lives, didn’t learn the rhythms of this house just to be treated like an object to be moved.

You remember the layout.

You remember the spare hallway.

You remember where Hongjoong keeps the emergency override.

You shouldn’t.

But you do.

The door opens.

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Hongjoong is issuing orders when he sees you.

Alive. Out of the safe room. Eyes blazing.

Something inside him snaps clean in half.

“What are you doing,” he roars, crossing the distance in seconds. “I told you to—”

“You don’t get to send me away,” you shout back, voice shaking but unbroken. “You don’t get to decide my life for me.”

Bullets ricochet in the distance.

The crew freezes, watching the most terrifying sight they have ever witnessed: Their boss being yelled at.

“I stayed,” you continue, chest heaving, “because I wanted to. Because I trust you. Because I—”

Your voice breaks.

“—because I love you, you idiot.”

The world stops.

Hongjoong stares at you like he’s been shot somewhere vital.

“You… what?”

“I kidnapped you once,” you say breathlessly. “I can do it again.”

Wooyoung whispers, “Holy shit.”

Hongjoong moves.

Not toward the enemy.

Toward you.

He cups your face with blood-streaked hands, forehead pressed to yours.

“I will end this,” he says softly. “And then we are talking.”

You nod. “Deal.”

He turns.

The fight ends fast after that.

No mercy. No hesitation. Just a man who has decided there will be no loose ends left in a world that dares to touch what’s his.

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─────────

The house is quiet again.

You sit on the couch, knees pulled to your chest, Hongjoong’s hoodie wrapped tight around you.

He kneels in front of you.

“I should have let you choose,” he says. “I was afraid.”

You smile weakly. “Yeah. Me too.”

He exhales. “Stay.”

It’s not an order.

It’s a question.

You lean forward and kiss him.

Slow. Certain. Real.

“I already did.”

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In the underworld, the story spreads.

How Kim Hongjoong, feared and ruthless, was once kidnapped.

How he let the culprit live.

How she ended up not leaving his side again.

When someone asks him why, he just smiles and says, “She took me by surprise.”

And if you ever tease him—years later, safe and loved—he’ll sigh and mutter,

“You know, technically, you committed multiple felonies.”

You grin.

“Worth it.”

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© lcvejjoong, 2026

You'd considered ducking into a random bathroom stall more than once, but the idea of a quick, unsatisfying orgasm wasn't what you craved. You wanted to take your time, to spread out on your bed and really indulge yourself.

But to your dismay, as you walked into the living room, there was something else to already worry about.

You froze the moment the door clicked shut behind you. The living room dark and dead, but faint noises captured the atmosphere. There was a low, rhythmic sound, punctuated by heavy, ragged breathing. Your heart skipped a beat, not from fear, but from recognition.

Intak? He was home? He said he had work today… clearly not.

And he was definitely doing something he shouldn't be doing in your shared living space, or at least, not with his door open…?

Your first instinct was annoyance — you had been counting on having the place to yourself. But as you stood there, listening, that annoyance transformed into something else entirely. The sounds were unmistakable. The wet slap of skin on skin and his breathy gasps followed by low, desperate groans — he was jerking off, and from the sound of it, he was really going at it.

You dropped your bag in the hallway silently, your curiosity warring with the sudden spike of heat that flared in your lower belly. You knew you should go to your room, give him privacy, but the sound was magnetic. It pulled you forward, step by silent step across the hardwood floor, toward the hallway that led to the bedrooms. Your pulse quickened with each movement, your own arousal intensifying as you got closer to the source of those delicious sounds.

You'd heard Intak before, of course. The walls in this apartment were paper-thin, and more than once you'd wake up in the middle of the night to the sound of him pleasuring himself in the next room. Those nights, you'd lie there in the darkness, your hand creeping between your legs, matching your rhythm to his, imagining what he looked like or what he was thinking about. You'd always wondered if he knew you could hear him, if maybe he was doing it on purpose, putting on a show for you through the walls.

As you got closer, the noises became clearer, more distinct. And then, words. "Fuck... yes," He groaned, low and wrecked. But it was his next words that turned your blood to fire. "Just like that pretty girl... please..."

Your pussy clenched, a fresh wave of arousal flooding through you. He was thinking about someone?? Who was he thinking about? Girl from work? An idol? Actress? Your mind raced through the possibilities even as your feet carried you closer to his bedroom door. It was slightly cracked opne, like he didn't have the power in him to shut it all the way. Stupid, careless Intak — so lost in his fantasy that he hadn't even bothered. You pressed yourself against the wall just outside his room, your heart pounding so hard you were sure he'd hear it. Then, slowly and carefully, you leaned forward just enough to peek inside.

The sight that greeted you nearly made you gasp out loud.

He was sitting in his desk chair, head thrown back. His shirt was discarded on the floor, leaving his back and shoulders exposed, muscles shifting as he moved. You could see the flush running down his body, the way his shoulders flexed with each movement of his arm. His hand was moving furiously between his legs, his hips jerking up to meet his strokes. Even from the side, you could see how desperate he was, how completely lost in his pleasure.

"Fuck, so good," He whined, his voice breaking on a sob. “God, just like that YN.”

Your breath caught in your throat. ….

"Please," He continued, his voice ragged and needy.

Holy shit. He was thinking about you. The realization hit you like a physical blow, sending a shockwave of pure lust straight to your core. Intak, your life long friend and now roommate, the one who always left his dishes in the sink and borrowed your shampoo without asking, was jerking himself raw while fantasizing about you and your mouth on his cock.

You should have been angry. You should have slammed the door oprn and confronted him... But instead, you felt a dark, hungry satisfaction curl in your stomach. All those nights you'd spent touching yourself to the sound of him, wondering if he ever thought about you — and here was your answer. He wanted you.

You leaned against the doorframe, crossing your arms, and watched him. Your pussy was throbbing now, your clit so swollen and sensitive you could feel it pulsing with your heartbeat. You pressed your thighs together, trying to get some friction, some relief, but it only made it worse.

He was completely lost in it. His hand moved faster, the slick sounds growing louder, filling the small room. You could see his abs contracting with every thrust of his hips, and the way his whole body was tensing up. By the way his breathing had gone ragged followed by desperate little whimpers escaping his throat, you could tell he was close.

He gasped, his hand speeding up, the slick sounds growing louder, filling the small room. "Just like that.. Fuck… Please.. please.."

The begging did something to you.

Hearing him so desperate, needy, and completely undone by the thought of you — it was intoxicating. It made you feel powerful, desired, and wanted in a way that made your head spin.

Your hand moved almost unconsciously to your breast, squeezing through your shirt, your nipple hard and aching under your palm. You watched as his movements became more frantic while his free hand gripped the armrest of his chair so hard his knuckles were white. His hips were lifting off the seat with each stroke, fucking into his fist like it was your pussy.

You couldn't take it anymore. The throbbing between your legs was demanding attention, and seeing him like this — vulnerable and filthy — was an opportunity you couldn't pass up. You stepped into the room, your socked feet making no sound on the carpet. Your heart was racing, adrenaline and arousal mixing into a heady cocktail that made you feel bold, reckless.

"Intak," You said, your voice low but firm.

He screamed. It was a high-pitched, undignified yelp as he scrambled to cover himself, knocking his gaming microphone off the desk in the process. It clattered to the floor with a crash that seemed deafening in the sudden silence. He spun, eyes wide with terror, his hands frantically trying to pull his sweatpants up over his erection.

But it was useless — his cock was too hard and big as it strained against the fabric. He looked like a guilty puppy, frozen in the headlights of your gaze.

"Holy shit!—I thought you were—" He stammered, his face burning a bright red that rivaled the flush on his chest. His eyes were wild, panicked, darting around the room like he was looking for an escape route.

"Hm," You hummed, cutting him off as you stepped further into the room. You walked toward him slowly, deliberately, watching him shrink back into his chair. "Was that my name I heard?”

His face, already red, somehow managed to go even redder. "No–.”

"Don't lie to me." You shook your head, your voice sharp. You stopped right in front of his chair, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off his skin. You could smell him — sweat and something disgustingly male. It made your head spin, yet your pussy clenched with need. "I heard you."

He covered his face with his hands, groaning in misery. "I'm sorry. I'm a creep. I'm disgusting. I'll move out, just — please don't hate me. Please."

The desperation in his voice sent a thrill through you. He thought he was in trouble? He thought you were disgusted. He had no idea that you were just as turned on as he was — that your panties were soaked through and that you'd been fantasizing about this exact scenario for months.

You stepped right between his legs now, close enough that your knees were almost touching his thighs. You reached out to grab his wrists and pull his hands away from his face.

He resisted at first, but you were insistent, tugging until he finally let you pull his hands down. He looked up at you, eyes watery and filled with shame, but beneath that, you saw the hunger. He was still hard, you could see the tent in his sweatpants, practically vibrating with need. His cock was straining against the fabric, a wet spot forming where the head was leaking pre-cum.

"Hate you?" You laughed softly, your thumbs stroking over the sensitive skin of his inner wrists. You could feel his pulse racing under your fingers. "I didn't say I hated it."

He blinked, confused. "What?"

"Walls are thin, sweet Intak," You purred, leaning down so you were inches from him. You could see every detail of his face — the way his pupils were blown wide with arousal, and the way his lips were parted and trembling, the sheen of sweat on his forehead. "This isn't the first time I've heard you."

His jaw dropped. "You... what?"

"Mmhmm." You hummed, letting go of one of his wrists to trail your fingers up his bare arm. His skin was hot, almost feverish… goosebumps rising in the wake of your touch. "I've heard you plenty of times. Late at night, when you think I'm asleep. Early in the morning, when you think I've already left for work. You're not as quiet as you think you are."

"I–" He breathed, his eyes squeezing shut. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know. I thought—"

"And I never said anything." You continued, your eyes trailing down his chest to the waistband of his pants. His chest was heaving, his nipples hard little points. "Because sometimes, lying in my bed at night listening to you... it helped me get off, too."

His eyes snapped open, staring at you in disbelief. "You touched yourself thinking about me?"

"All the time." You admitted, your fingernails scratching lightly against his skin. He hissed at the contact, his hips bucking involuntarily. "I'd lie there in the dark, my hand between my legs, listening to you moan and imagining it was me making you feel that good. Imagining your cock inside me, stretching me open, filling me up."

Intak let out a shuddering breath, his eyes darkening as the words sank in. "Fuck," he whispered. "Are you serious right now? Because if you're messing with me—"

"But listening isn't enough anymore." You interrupted, your voice dropping to a husky whisper. "I want the real thing. I want to feel you… Want you to fuck me until I can't walk straight."

"Yeah?" He whispered, like he was afraid you'd vanish if he spoke too loud. “Please, if you're joking—“

"Do I look like I'm joking?" You reached down and palmed him through his sweatpants, feeling the solid, heavy heat of him. He was rock hard, his cock thick and hot even through the fabric. He hissed, his head falling back against the chair, his hands gripping the armrests.

"Besides... you’ve stolen my panties, haven’t you?"

He froze, his eyes snapping open to meet yours. There was no point in denying it. You could see the guilt written all over his face, mixed with arousal and fear. "I..."

"Hm." You said, a slow smile spreading across your face. You gave him a firm squeeze that made him whine, a high-pitched sound of need that went straight to your clit. "You don't think I notice when my dirty panties go missing from my laundry? My black lacey ones? Or the pink cotton ones with a little bow? My red thong?"

"I'm sorry." He breathed, looking up at you with those wide, pleading eyes. "I just couldn't help it. You smell so good. I know it's fucked up.”

"It is fucked up," You agreed, your hand moving in slow circles over his cock. You could feel it twitching under your palm, how desperately he needed relief. "But I like it. I like knowing you wanted me so badly you had to steal my panties. What did you do with them, Intak? Did you wrap them around your cock while you jerked off? Did you hold them to your face and breathe me in while you came?"

"Y..yes" He admitted, his voice breaking. "Both. I'm sorry.”

"Don't apologize." You said, sinking to your knees in front of him. The carpet was rough against your knees, but you didn't care. You were eye-level with his crotch now, could see the outline of his cock straining against his sweatpants, could see the wet spot spreading. "I think it's sweet."

He stared at you, mesmerized, as you hooked your fingers into the waistband of his sweatpants. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like?" You asked, tugging the fabric down. He lifted his hips to help you, and then his cock sprang free, slapping against his stomach.

Fuck. He was way bigger than you'd imagined. Thick and long, the head flushed an angry red and leaking pre-cum. You could see a vein running along the underside, pulsing with his heartbeat. Your mouth watered at the sight.

You wrapped your hand around the base, marveling at the weight of him in your palm. He was hot, almost burning, and so hard you could feel him throbbing.

"I've touched myself to the idea of something like this countless times." You whispered, leaning in to lick a stripe up the underside of his shaft. He cried out, his hands flying to your hair, tangling in the strands. The taste of him exploded on your tongue. "Just hope you live up to the standards in my head."

"I will." He promised, his voice wrecked. "I'll do whatever you want. Please, I... please."

You didn't make him wait any longer. You leaned forward and took him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and sucking hard. He hissed your name while his hips jerked up off the chair, forcing his cock deeper into your throat. You relaxed your jaw, letting him fuck your mouth, enjoying the desperate, needy sounds he was making.

"Oh fuck– fuck," He chanted, his fingers tightening in your hair and holding on like you were the only thing keeping him grounded. "Feels so good–"

You hummed around him, the vibrations making him gasp. You took him deeper, until the head of his cock hit the back of your throat. You swallowed around him, fighting your gag reflex, and he nearly came apart.

"Wait, wait, wait–" He gasped, tugging gently on your hair. "I don't want to yet. I want—I need—"

You pulled off with a pop, a string of saliva connecting your lips to the head of his cock. You looked up at him, your hand still working away while your lips were swollen and wet with a smile. "What do you need, Intak?"

"I need to taste you," He said, his voice desperate. “Need to know if you taste as good as I imagine."

Heat flooded through you at his words. "Stand up," You ordered.

He scrambled to obey, nearly tripping over his sweatpants pooled around his ankles. He kicked them off, standing before you completely naked, his cock jutting out proudly. You moved to sit on the edge of the bed, right in front of him. His eyes were locked on you, watching your every move with an intensity that made your skin prickle.

You hooked your thumbs into the waistband of your shorts. Slowly, teasingly, you shimmied them down your hips, along with your panties. You kicked them off to the side, leaving you bare from the waist down. The cool air hit your overheated pussy, making you gasp.

His eyes locked onto your exposed pussy, his mouth falling open slightly. You could see his cock twitching, leaking onto his thigh. "Fuck," He breathed. "You're so wet."

"All day, I’ve been." You admitted, leaning back on your hands and spreading your legs wide, giving him an unobstructed view as he got on his knees.

"Okay, stop staring and put that mouth to use."

Intak didn't hesitate, quickly he surged forward, burying his face in your cunt with a groan that vibrated through your entire body. His tongue was hot and frantic, lapping at your folds like a starving man. You gasped, your head falling back as he found your clit almost immediately, sucking it into his mouth.

"Oh, fuck," You moaned, your hands finding his hair. It was soft, slightly damp with sweat, and you gripped it tightly, holding him against you. "Just like that. Good boy."

He whimpered against your skin, the praise spurring him on. He ate you out with a single-minded intensity, his nose rubbing against your clit as his tongue plunged inside you. He was messy and sloppy – you could feel his saliva mixing with your own arousal as it dripped down your thighs, and it was perfect. He was showing how much he's wanted this, how much he's needed you.

His hands came up to grip your thighs, spreading you wider, holding you open for his mouth. His fingers dug into your flesh, hard enough to leave bruises, but you didn't care. The slight pain only added to the pleasure, making everything more intense.

"That's it," You panted, your hips starting to rock against his face. "Fuck, dont ’stop–."

He moaned against you, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your core. He pulled back just enough to gasp, "I've imagined this every single night."

A moan ripped from your throat as you tugged on his hair. "Show me what you've been dreaming about."

He dove back in with renewed enthusiasm, his tongue working your clit in tight circles. You could feel the orgasm building, that familiar tension coiling in your lower tummmy. But you didn't want to cum yet. You wanted to draw this out, and savor every second of having him on his knees for you.

He pulled back slightly, gasping for air, his chin glistening with your sex. He looked up at you, his eyes glassy and unfocused, completely fucked-out. His lips were swollen and red, his cheeks flushed. He looked absolutely wrecked, and you'd barely even started.

"You're so perfect," You panted, stroking his hair back from his forehead. Your fingers were gentle now, soothing. "Taste good?"

"I love it," He rasped, his voice hoarse. "Love how you taste. Love the sounds you make." He dove back in, his tongue flattening against your clit, licking in long, slow strokes that made your toes curl.

You looked down and noticed his hips moving, bucking forward rhythmically. He was humping the air, seeking friction for his neglected cock, but he didn't stop licking you. He was obsessed, pussy drunk, barely coming up for air as he worked you toward the edge.

"Look at me," You begged, tugging on his hair.

He pulled his mouth away just enough to look up at you, his tongue still darting out to catch your juices. The sight of him He looked like he was worshipping you, like eating your pussy was the greatest privilege he'd ever been given.

"You're doing so well." You praised him, and watched his eyes light up. "Making me feel so good."

He moaned, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment before snapping back open. He didn't want to miss a second of this or stop looking at you. His tongue went back to work, lapping at your entrance, gathering your wetness before moving back up to your clit.

"I'm close," You warned him, your thighs starting to tremble. The tension was building, coiling tighter and tighter. He doubled his efforts, sucking on your clit and sliding two fingers inside you, curling them just right. They slid in easily, your pussy wet and ready for him. He found that perfect spot inside you that made you see stars, and pressed against it.

"NghFuck—“ You cried out, your back arching off the bed.

He kept his fingers right where they were, pumping them in and out while his mouth worked your clit. His other hand was still gripping your thigh, holding you open, and you could feel him trembling with the effort of holding himself back. His cock was probably aching, desperate for attention, but he didn't stop. He was completely focused on you and making you cum.

"Intak,” You gasped, your fingers tightening in his hair.

He groaned against you, the vibrations pushing you over the edge. You cried out, your body shaking as the orgasm tore through you. Your walls clamped down on his fingers, your thighs trying to close around his head, but he held you open, and licked you through it. He lapped up everything you gave him, moaning like it was the best thing he'd ever tasted.

The pleasure seemed to go on forever, wave after wave crashing over you. Your vision went white as your whole body tensed and then released. As you came down, panting heavily, your body still twitching with aftershocks, you pushed him back gently.

He pulled away reluctantly, his fingers sliding out of you. Intak looked dazed, his lips puffy amd face shining with your arousal. He brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean, and the sight made your pussy clench all over again.

"Shit–" You breathed. "That was..."

"Amazing," He finished, his voice rough. "Taste so good. Can I do it again?"

You laughed, breathless. "Later. Right now, I need you inside me."

His eyes widened, cock twitching visibly. "Really?"

You rolled your eyes before you grabbed his shoulders, hauling him up from the floor and onto the bed. He climbed up eagerly, his body covering yours. You could feel his cock, hard and hot, pressing against your thigh.

“Need you so bad.” He let out a breath, his forehead resting against yours. "I've wanted this for so long."

"Prove it." You whispered, reaching between your bodies to wrap your hand around his cock. He gasped at the contact, his hips jerking forward. You guided him to your entrance, rubbing the head of his cock through your folds, coating him in your wetness. He was trembling, his whole body tight with anticipation.

Intak pushed forward, sinking into you inch by inch. You groaned at the stretch, the feeling of fullness overwhelming after so long wanting this. He felt huge, hot and hard and pulsing inside you. Your pussy stretched to accommodate him, the slight burn only adding to the pleasure.

He choked out your name, his eyes squeezing shut. "So tight. Feels better than I ever imagined."

When he was finally buried to the hilt, he stopped, his forehead still resting against yours, his breathing ragged. You could feel him throbbing as you wrapped your legs around his waist, your heels digging into his lower back.

Intak started to thrust, slow and deep at first, savoring the feeling. Each stroke dragged against your walls, hitting spots inside you that made you gasp. Able to feel every ridge, vein, and the way his cock curved just right to hit your special spot.

"So pretty." He panted, his hips moving in a steady rhythm. "So perfect.“

"God, go harder–" You asked, your nails digging into his shoulders.

Something in him snapped and his control completely shattered as he started pounding into you, his hips snapping against yours with wet, slapping sounds. The bed creaked beneath you, the headboard hitting the wall with each thrust. He was whimpering with every thrust, high-pitched sounds of pleasure that went straight to your head.

"Yes, yes, yes!" You chanted, meeting him thrust for thrust. Your bodies were slick with sweat, sliding against each other. You could feel another orgasm building already, the pressure mounting with each stroke of his cock inside you.

"You're so beautiful." He whimpered before you pulled him down for a kiss. Your lips crashed together, messily. You immediately tasted yourself on his tongue, musky and sweet while he moaned into your mouth, his hips still stuttering as he lost his rhythm for a moment.

You reached between your bodies, your fingers finding your clit. You rubbed in tight circles, the added stimulation making you cry out. Your pussy clenched around him, and he groaned, his thrusts becoming more erratic. "So close," You gasped. "Don't stop. Please don't stop."

"I won't," He promised, his hips pounding into you relentlessly. "Gonna make you feel so good, promise."

The pressure was building. Your whole body was tense, every muscle coiled tight. Your fingers worked your clit frantically, chasing that peak. "I'm gonna come," He warned you, his voice breaking.

"I can't hold it. You feel too good."

"Not yet," You gasped, your fingers moving faster. You were right on the edge, so close you could taste it. "Wait for me. Just a little longer."

He let out a sob, burying his face in your neck, his hips pounding into you relentlessly. "I'm trying, I'm trying..”

"Almost," You panted, your body starting to shake.

And when you were there, your orgasm slammed into you like a freight train. You cried out, your back arching off the bed as your pussy clamped down around him like a vice. The pleasure was overwhelming, whiting out your vision once again and making your whole body convulse.

Intak pulsed deep inside you as he spilled everything himself. You felt it — hot and thick, filling you completely. Your walls clamped down around him, milking him and drawing out every last drop.

"Fuuuuck." He whimpered against your neck, his hips still moving in shallow thrusts, riding out his orgasm while buried deep inside you. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close as he came, your legs locked around his waist, keeping him exactly where he was. You didn't want him to pull out, or lose the feeling of him inside you.

He collapsed on top of you, his chest heaving against yours, his cock still buried deep. For a long moment, you both laid there, breathing heavily, your bodies intertwined. You could feel him softening inside you, and the warmth of his release coating your inner walls.

Eventually, he lifted his head to look at you, his eyes glazed and satisfied. "God." he breathed. "That was..."

"Yeah," you agreed, running your fingers down his back. You were a mess, covered in sweat, your hair sticking to your forehead. But you felt amazing, satisfied in a way you hadn't been in months.

And the feeling of him still inside you, even as he softened, was absolutely perfect.

💌 mika’s message! hi. an intak smut was long overdue. guys o feel sick i kinda need thag but we’re just gonna OKAY SHUT UP. THANK YOU FOR 600 FOLLOWERS BTW. IM GEEKED. YHANK U 😭😭💗💗💗💗💗💗