#poly!skz

Only you and Chan are home tonight, Seungmin and Jisung off God-knows-where for whatever reason. Chan was supposed to go out with them, but he had a project to finish for his job, the same project that had him losing sleep for the last few weeks. You may never understand what exactly goes into producing music, but from the way he stayed hunched over his computer 24/7, you knew it was complicated.

You're not at all surprised when you hear your door creak open slowly. You turn over, eyes catching Chan's as he stands in your doorway with his arms folded across his chest. He's wearing a haberdash of house clothes, including a baseball cap, but you can still see the dark tint on his eyes.

You feign innocence.

“Hey you,” you smile at him. “Taking a break?”

“Something like that. What're you doing?”

You shift your phone to the hand with your bracelet, holding it up and giving it a little shake. His gaze hardens even more. “Just on Instagram.”

His eyes are trained on your wrist, just like you wanted. He recognizes the bracelet. Of course he does– he and the boys bought it for you after one of your many, many conversations. You give a little smile. "It's cute, right? The green matches my t-shirt," you say sweetly. 

It does, but that's not the only reason you're wearing it.

You're wearing it because they know that green means go. Or yes. 

Or take.

"Did you need something, Chan?"

He doesn't respond, choosing instead to push up off of the doorframe and make his way over to you. You decide to roll onto your back to see him better, and by the time you're situated, he's standing over you, arms still crossed.

You gulp.

"Um, hi," you breathe out. Nervousness was not part of the plan. "I– Did you... need something?"

He drops one of his hands and grips your ankle, and where the skin connects you feel like you've been electrocuted. Your body comes alive immediately. You can only watch as he barely strains a single muscle as he pulls you down to the edge of the bed.

"Put your phone down," he instructs. He reaches the soft part of your thigh and pinches, lips curling into a smirk when you yelp.

"Channie, I—"

"I said," he repeats, a little harsher this time, "put your phone down."

You do as you're told, dropping it on the floor next to his feet. He keeps pulling until your entire lower half is hanging off the bed. With your legs spread like they are, you're certain he can feel the pulsing coming from between your legs.

He hums.

"You know why I'm here," he says lowly. It's not a question.

Despite the speed of your heart, you blink up at him dumbly, fighting against the wave of arousal that licks down your spine when he raises an eyebrow.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you manage.

Both of his eyebrows are up now, his expression seemingly surprised for a second before it fades. He nods lightly, almost as though contemplating what you've said, and then he releases you and takes a step back.

Your heart drops for a second. You think you've messed up somehow, or maybe your tone didn't come out right. You're about to backtrack, but then he's back, hooking his fingers into either side of your waistband, and with one simple tug he has your pajama pants completely off. 

If Chan is surprised that you're not wearing any underwear, he doesn't show it.

You gasp when the cool air hits your lower body, and you watch as he smirks. He returns his vice like grip on your ankle when you start to squirm under his gaze. 

"I see you still like to pretend that you have some ounce of control in this relationship," he deadpans. He tugs you back down the bed when you try to wiggle away. You're embarrassed that his strength doesn't seem to be affected by his sleep deprivation. "Come on, baby. You know better than that."

You fight back the giddy smile that threatens to take over your face at his voice. "I don't know what you're talking about," you lie. "Why're you bothering me? Don't you have work to do?"

"I can't focus," he says smoothly. "I couldn't stop thinking about you while I was working. About how much easier work might be if I could fuck you to clear my head."

"That's too bad," you shrug, hoping he can't see how you're clenching around nothing. "I was busy."

He hums absentmindedly, letting the hand on your ankle travel higher. He runs his fingers up your calf, then your knee, until finally he hooks the inside of his wrist behind it, forcing your legs to part. You gasp and try to snap them closed, but he only has to shift a bit so that his other hand is on your opposite leg, holding you open for him.

"Why do you always act like you're not dying for me to touch you, hm?" he asks, but it's rhetorical.  He knows you don't have an answer. You never do. Even so, when you stay quiet, he huffs out a humorless laugh.

"Okay. I'm going to give you two options, because I'm feeling generous." He holds up one finger. "Option one, you admit you're just being a brat, I'll fuck it out of you, and then we can both go back to what we were doing. Or–"

You whine as he abruptly leans down with your legs still in his hands, effectively folding you in half. "Or, option two, you keep it up, and I can tell the boys to come home. Then we'll make this a lot longer than it needs to be."

Chan is dangerously close to your face now. The brim of his hat is touching your forehead. You're almost sure he can feel your heartbeat through the fabric of both of your shirts.

"So what do you want, princess?" he asks, voice dripping with honey. 

You shiver. His gaze is so intense you forget how to breathe. At your silence, he yanks you further into him, pressing himself right up against your uncovered cunt. Even through his basketball shorts you feel the unmistakable heat of his erection.

"I said, what do you want?"

Fuck.

You can't take it anymore. You feel like you're burning with need. "I'm sorry, Channie," you whine out. You can see the fire in his eyes, the way he's so worked up already, and it makes you weak. "I'll be good."

He gives you a sweet smile, leaning forward to press a kiss against your mouth. You sigh into it, letting your body go lax so he can take control. 

Despite your attempts, brattiness never lasts long with Chan. With Seungmin and Jisung, you love the challenge, love making them crack and beg a little, but Chan is entirely unrelenting. You know better than to get him too riled up, especially if you actually want anything to happen.

The kiss is a stark contrast to what you know is to come, and you know that it's on purpose. He always likes to give you the chance to back out, a way to change your mind. Bracelet or no bracelet, your comfort is still always his first priority. It's what makes you comfortable enough to tease him.

But when he pulls away from the kiss and you chase after his mouth, he only smiles.

"There's my good girl," he says. He releases your knees and presses a kiss against your cheek, and then the tip of your nose.

"Chan," you whine. Your body feels cold where his hands just were.

He only tilts his head when he looks at you. "Hm?" Then his gaze turns sinister. "Did you... need something, princess?"

Oh. 

Shit.

"Wait,” You're scrambling up from your position. “Wait, please, Chan, don't–"

He hums. "You were so mean to me," he says, trailing a single finger down your cheek. "I don't think you deserve anything from me."

You attempt to sit up, eyes widening, but he's keeping you pinned down on your bed. "But I said I'm sorry," you whine. "Channie, please, I'll be good--"

He tilts his head again, pretending to think, letting his hand fall down your face to hold your chin between his thumb and forefinger.

"No," he decides, and he straightens up, taking a step back. "I think I'm gonna go back to work."

Before you can grab him, he's slipped away, nearly halfway to your door. "Sorry, babygirl. Maybe next time, yeah?"

The smirk on his face is proof he's anything but sorry. He gives you a fake little pout before winking and stepping out of your room, clicking the door closed behind him.

You're sat up on the bed, staring at the door with your jaw slacked. This is a new level of evil, you think. You hear his bedroom door open and shut, then the muffled sound of the track he's working on vibrates the walls.

It takes longer than you'd like for your wits to come back to you, but when they do, you're both utterly gobsmacked and thoroughly impressed.

He's teasing you.

There's a part of you that's tempted to just give in, to make your way across the hall and apologize. Chan is stubborn, but not unreachable. You know if you march into his room, you could get on your knees and make him relent in seconds.

But fine. He wants to play dirty?

You can play dirty, too.

-

It's less than an hour later when you hear the front door open and shut, the sound of Jisung and Seungmin's voices carrying up the stairs. You hear takeout bags and the jingling of their keys, and then–

“We're home!”

You make no effort to move, waiting to see if Chan will leave his room first. Besides, you're still working through some of the details of your plan.

If you stay in your room, Seungmin would come upstairs to check on you first. You know he'll fuck you good, but it takes time to warm him up. By the time you start getting anywhere, Jisung will get to Chan, who might do something stupid like tell him that you were being a brat, and then he'll come in and ruin the whole thing.

No, you need eager. You need impulsive.

You need Jisung.

You pad to the bedroom door, opening it and sticking your head out. Chan's door is still closed, the track he's working on still pumping through the speakers, so you take the opportunity to get the ball rolling.

You make your way down the hall and to the top of the stairs, where you can see Jisung standing in the entryway of the kitchen. The two have already shed their jackets and shoes, and Seungmin is now busy unloading the food they brought back into the fridge. His back is turned to you.

Bingo.

"Hey," you say softly. Jisung's head whips up, eyes brightening as he spots you. He says something you can't hear to Seungmin before he's jogging up the stairs towards you. He scoops you into a squeezing hug.

"Hi my baby," he says happily, pressing a kiss against your forehead. "How was your day?"

You giggle in the hug. "It was alright. Kind of boring. How was yours?"

"We had fun," he says. He sets you down and leans against the wall next to you, reaching and catching your hand in his. You deliberately give him the hand with the bracelet, but he doesn't see it. "I missed you though."

"I missed you, too."

Jisung grins. He opens his mouth to speak again, but then he furrows his eyebrows when he looks at you, like he's just noticing something.

"Is that my shirt?"

“Is it?” You look down, feigning surprise. "Oh, yeah I guess it is."

He hums, tilting his head. His eyes trail to your hand, and he finally seems to notice the bracelet on your wrist. "That's weird. I could've sworn I saw it in my drawer this morning."

You shrug. "Maybe you're just losing your mind."

He grins, bringing your hand up to his mouth and pressing a kiss against your open palm. "Yeah, maybe. Or are you trying to tell me something?"

You bat your eyelashes up at him. "Am I?"

His smile turns sly. "You are, aren't you?"

Jisung doesn't wait for a response, clasping his hand around yours and pulling you down the hallway back into your room. He kicks the door shut behind him and spins to face you, a wicked grin on his face.

You squeal when he picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and laughing against his mouth. His kisses are hot and eager– there's no break for breath as he moves across the room with you. You don't even pause when he lays you down on your bed, hand sliding “his” t-shirt up your body.

You shiver when he brushes against your thigh. His hands are cold from outside, and the contrast against your warm skin feels like electricity. He smiles in the kiss and squeezes the skin tight.

Your own hands find their way around his neck, pulling him even closer into you. Through the thin fabric of the shirt you're wearing, you can feel the hardness of his body all pressed against yours. He shifts against you and the friction makes your nipples harden right under him.

His hands leave your thighs. They wind their way up your torso, feeling you up all along the way until he finds the stiff peaks that called his attention. He runs his thumbs over them, drinking up every sound you make. One of your hands cards into his hair and you tug.

He groans at that, finally pulling away from the kiss with a grunt and instead trailing his kisses down the column of your throat. His teeth graze your pulse point and you buck up into him in surprise.

You feel him laugh against you.

"You're so cute," he says into your neck. He mouths over the skin before biting down, hot wet tongue immediately after. A bruise, then.

"Sungie," you gasp out. Your back arches off the mattress as his hands wander all over you. You've always loved how naturally his mouth works its way around your body– he knows just where to kiss, what spots to brush his nose over. Like he's learned the entire road map to your pleasure.

Maybe he has.

He mouths down your body, pausing and sucking on your breasts before leaving wet, soft kisses down the expanse of your tummy. When he gets to your core, he shifts his kiss-trail over to your inner thigh.

"Do you know how hot you are?" He murmurs. "Like all the time. Holy fuck. This is my shirt, princess. My shirt. Don't you know that drives me crazy?"

You do. It's precisely why you grabbed it.

His tongue meets your skin in an agonizing, slow stripe along your inner thigh. The higher he gets, the more your legs tremble around him, until finally his lips close around your clit.

The feeling is overwhelming. Your head lolls back against the bed and you let out a breathy moan. He hums against you, fingers digging into the skin of your thighs as he holds your legs up. Your hands are shaking, but one winds its way back into his soft hair, and you tug.

He moans at that, a sound that sends vibration up through your whole core. He takes a hand away and brings it down, letting his thumb just press lightly against your entrance. Even in the slightest sense of pressure, you arch further into him, wanting more, more, more.

He sucks on your clit even harder, his tongue joining, and when you look down and see his blissed out expression between your legs, you think your heart might jump right out of your chest.

In all the times the boys have taken you apart, they've never made you come this quickly. You're not sure if it's because of the moment with Chan earlier, or because you've been thinking about having one of them fuck you all day. All it takes is two large fingers, pushing and stretching inside of you while his mouth moves so perfectly around your throbbing clit for you to snap. You come with a sob, your thighs pressing against his head.

If there's one thing Jisung certainly loves, though, it's eating you out. He could spend hours between your legs, kissing and sucking and licking until you're boneless and spent. So there is no sign of slowing in his rhythm, even when you wriggle from overstimulation.

"Sung," you moan. He responds by pinching your thigh, sucking hard on your clit so your yelp turns into a moan.

Distantly, you register the sound of footsteps that pause right outside of your door. You hear knocking, but not on your door, and you realize Seungmin has finally come upstairs, likely to grab everybody for some quality time after a day apart.

You almost laugh at how well this is working out for you.

Jisung slides his fingers back into you, and your attention is split between straining to hear what's going on in the hallway and the blinding pleasure you're feeling. He curls his fingers up and you find yourself gushing on his hand, your own fingers tangled in his hair so tight he can barely move.

"God, you're so fucking wet," he murmurs against you. He almost sounds giddy. "Did you miss me, baby?"

You can't even form a response, only able to whine as he fucks into you with his fingers, tongue flicking over your clit just fast enough to make you tremble. Your orgasm is coming on strong, and you feel like you're floating above your body, every touch electric, every movement monumental.

And then–

"Ah, so that's where they are."

Your eyes snap to your now-open door. Your other two boyfriends are there, and you make direct eye contact with Chan just as your second orgasm reaches its peak. You arch up off the bed, gasping into the air as your body trembles, and Jisung keeps his mouth on you, sucking hard and making your vision go white.

After a minute, he finally slows his pace, pulling away and finger-fucking you slowly and deep. He would never stop completely, especially not now that everyone's in the same room. His voyeurism is likely cranked up to 10, and you know he'll be pouty and whiney for the rest of the week unless he gets to watch one of the other boys split you open on their cock.

From the way he's looking at you, you feel like it'll be Chan doing the splitting.

Seungmin, ever the sane one, pretends to roll his eyes. "So this is why neither of you were answering my texts about movie night? This couldn't wait?"

"Well, she was wearing my shirt and nothing under it," Jisung says, grinning up at him. He gives your clit one last suck before kissing it and propping himself up, fingers still buried to the hilt inside of you. Your brain feels foggy as you stare at the three of them. You can still feel yourself gushing on his fingers.

Seungmin notices, eyes glued to your cunt as he walks over. You see his faux annoyance dissolving. "Fuck, she's really wet, isn't she."

Jisung grins. He presses a kiss against your inner thigh. "Yeah, I think she missed us."

Chan scoffs. He finally makes his way into the room fully, and you can see where his cock is straining against the fabric of his shorts. "No. She missed getting fucked." 

He stands at the end of the bed, eyes fixed on Jisung's hand as he continues to move inside of you. "Did you tell Jisung what happened earlier, baby?"

Jisung huffs out a little laugh, half lidded eyes going back to your face. "Hmm. No. She didn't."

A chill runs down the length of your spine. Fuck. It sounds like Chan got to them first.

"Chan said you were being a real big brat earlier," Seungmin hums. He pulls his eyes away from your center and finally looks at you. "Is that true, angel? Were you being bad for Chan?"

You shake your head, eyes going doe-ish as he gets closer to you. You realize you need to change your plan and do it quickly. It takes less than half a second for a new idea to come: Seungmin is the softest of the three of them, at least in sexual situations. If you can get him on your side you might have a chance.

That thought flies out of the window when his hand makes its way around your throat, squeezing with just the right amount of pressure. 

"Don't lie to me, sweetheart." His voice is deceptively soft. "Don't you think Chan already spoke to us?"

You fight back a gasp at the sheer betrayal, but decide to double down anyway. "Wasn't being bad," you manage. You stick out your bottom lip in a pout. "I didn't do anything!"

Seungmin squeezes again, harder, and you really do gasp this time. "Then why did we both get a text from Chan earlier saying you were being mean to him? Hmm?"

"He said he came to blow off some steam and someone," Jisung presses his fingers directly against that squishy part inside of you, "Was being all bratty. Telling him to leave her alone."

It's at this moment that you realize all your planning was futile. You've fallen right into their trap.

You try the Seungmin strategy again, panting as you look up at him. "Minnie, please," you whine. You can't think with Jisung hitting your spot like that. "I wasn't– I–"

He tilts his head. "Oh come on baby. I think you're just lying to us now."

Your chest heaves. Jisung has chosen now to dive back into your cunt, tongue swiping up your slit and circling around your clit. Your brain is too scrambled to think of any other ways out of this situation, so you resort to what you always do: 

Pleading.

"'m sorry, Minnie," you rasp. "Didn't mean to– Didn't mean to be bratty."

Seungmin softens only slightly. "Are you sure?"

"Yes!" You're gasping around your words. "I promise. I just wanted to make him mad, wasn't trying to be mean."

In all of your begging and the relentless fervor of Jisung's tongue, you barely notice Chan making his way to the other side of your bed. Seungmin's grip loosens around your throat, his fingers tracing the outline of your jaw as he takes in your words.

"Hm. What do you think, Chan?"

You turn to look at him. He's shed his shirt somewhere along the way, and the hard musculature of his stomach is glistening with sweat. He climbs onto the bed and situates himself so that he's behind you with your head in his lap. You're expecting his hand to replace Seungmin's around your throat, but instead he reaches over you, gripping the hem of your shirt and sliding it up over your chest until your breasts are on full display. Seungmin immediately sinks down to his knees and takes your nipple into his mouth.

You're a gasping, whining mess, eyes rolling back until all you can see is white. You feel Jisung sling his arm around you to keep your body still.

Above you, Chan lets the shirt go and switches his focus to your hands, pulling them up and holding your wrists together in one hand to keep them above your head.

"I think," he murmurs, using his free hand to caress your face, "That if she wants to cum so bad, we should let her."

Your heart drops. To the untrained ear, it sounds like you've won, but you know better. You know Chan, and you know he has something up his sleeve. But when you look up at him, he's looking down at you with a sickly sweet smile.

"If she's sorry," he continues, "She'll behave. Right, babygirl?"

You can't speak. The dual sensations are sending you to the moon. The hand caressing your face grips your jaw tight, keeping your gaze locked on him.

"I asked you a question, princess."

As soon as you open your mouth to answer, your orgasm crashes into you without warning. It's the third one in a row, and you feel much like a washcloth that's been wrung out. Your movements are jerky, uncoordinated, and even as you continue trying to respond to Chan, your voice is not coming out.

"Jisung." He says simply.

The boy in question pulls away from your cunt with a satisfying pop. He's absolutely pussy drunk, eyes half lidded and tongue rolling over his lips to savor the flavor of you. If it were just the two of you, he'd keep going, but amongst the hierarchy of dominance, Chan has been, and will always be, at the top.

"I think she's ready now, yeah?" Chan rubs his thumb against your skin. "Fuck her good for me."

When orchestrating your own plan, you looked at Jisung’s eagerness as something to work in your favor. You hoped he would get you riled up enough for you to scream his name a couple times and really make Chan mad. But now, as he shimmies out of his sweats and boxers, taking his thick length in his hand, you feel nervousness tickle your gut.

Seungmin has pulled away from your nipple, reaching down to hold one of your thighs up. He's murmuring sweet nothings to you as he holds you open for Jisung. The latter is poised at your entrance, stroking himself and watching you with hungry eyes. 

You tip your head back to look at Chan again, and he only smiles down at you.

"Channie," you whimper out. You can barely speak, you're so overwhelmed. "Please–"

"Shh," he coos. "I know, baby. But this is what you wanted, yeah?" His hand moves from your jaw to your mouth, pressing a finger against your lips. You suck it in without thought, letting your tongue swirl around him with your cheeks hollowed out like you would on his cock. "I just want to see you take Sungie's dick. Be good, baby."

You almost choke when Jisung thrusts into you. You're already so wet and so sensitive, and his cock is stretching you so wide, pushing deep inside until you're sure you can feel him in your stomach. He gives you no time to adjust, that eagerness coming full force as he fucks right into you.

"God, she's still so tight," he breathes. One hand finds purchase in the dip of your waist, the other moves to the thigh not being held by Seungmin, folding you up and spreading you open to give him more leverage as he fucks into you hard.

Seungmin hums, trailing kisses along your leg and the side of your neck. "Feel good, angel? You like having Jisung's cock inside you?"

You can't even respond, mind blank as Jisung plows you deep. Your back is arched off of Chan's lap, head pushed back as his finger keeps your mouth propped open. You're a dumb, drooling mess around him, and despite the soft smile on his lips, you know it's wrecking him. 

To prove your point, he digs his nails in one of your palms, a stark contrast to the way Seungmin's hand is gently rubbing up and down your body, playing with your nipples and caressing your sides and stomach.

It's all too much, the sensations are overwhelming, and you're so wound up from earlier that you already feel the orgasm building. You mewl pathetically, eyes watering as you look around for someone to have pity on you.

It's Chan who catches your pleading gaze, but he only raises an eyebrow.

"You're gonna cum again? Already?" he says. It's not condescending or snarky, rather genuine disbelief and curiosity. His finger leaves your mouth and you let out a dry sob as trails of spit drip down your chin.

Jisung doesn't hear this– or can't, rather. He's fucking into you like he'll die if he stops, breathy moans leaving his mouth as he does. He's babbling nonsense, things like how tight you are and how well you take him in. You know he's close too, because his hips have gone erratic in their rhythm. Yet somehow, he gets faster.

The knot in your stomach feels heavy as lead. This orgasm might genuinely take you out. 

"Please," you rasp. "Please, please, I can't–"

Chan shakes his head, smiling. "Oh, but baby, I thought you wanted to cum?" 

"I do," you whine. "Want to so bad but 's too much. Too much, Channie, please–"

"No. Shut up and cum, princess," the grit in his voice is back. "Cum on Jisung's cock. Be good for us."

That's all it takes for you to snap. You let out a broken cry as another orgasm rocks through your body. It's even more intense than the others, pulling all of your muscles taut so you sit up before slumping back into Chan's arms. You barely register the way your hands flex uselessly above your head, writhing in Chan's grip. You can only vaguely feel Seungmin kissing your cheek, whispering little encouragements in your ear, telling you how good you are and how pretty you look when you cum.

And then Jisung is grunting, snapping his hips against yours one last time before spilling into you. Your walls spasm around him as he cums, milking him dry and causing you both to whine into the air.

In typical Jisung fashion, he's still rutting up into you after you're both well past overstimulation. The pressure in your cunt throbs throughout your body, tears springing into your eyes. You're very close to abandoning the little bit of pride you have and begging him to stop.

It turns out you don't need to, because as if on cue, Jisung finally pulls out and Seungmin lets go of your legs, standing up. You nearly sob at the loss of his gentle contact, so you don't even notice he's taking off his clothes until he's standing where Jisung was, hands gripping the soft skin of your thighs to hold you open. 

"Aw, baby," he says softly. He runs a hand up your leg. "You did so well."

You pout, a sob bubbling in your throat when you realize their plan now. They're gonna drag as many orgasms out of you as they can, overstimulation be damned. The thought makes your clit throb, and that alone makes you whine. It's all too much.

Despite knowing you're already so wet and lax and malleable, Seungmin reaches down to rub at your clit in an attempt to open you up. 

"Min," you cry, squirming at his touch. Your cunt feels tender, and even though the first set of tears are long dried up on your cheeks, fresh ones start to come. "Minnie–"

"Shhh. It's okay, angel."

His words are gentle and reassuring, but when his eyes catch yours, all you see is darkness.

Seungmin's gentle dominance has a limit. He doesn't get all stern and mean like Chan, or desperate like Jisung, but there's only so long he can last before that other, darker part of him surfaces, the one that gets off on hurting you, on seeing you in pain and feeling good from it. You can tell by the look in his eyes that this is the part of him you'll be dealing with.

When he finally sinks his cock inside you, it's slow, and the moan that he lets out vibrates through his length and right into you. Your neck seems to give up, dropping you right back down in Chan's lap less than gracefully. It gives him better access to you, and he leans immediately to attach his mouth to yours. He alternates between soft kisses and hard bites that will surely bruise in the morning.

Seungmin is only a bit longer than Jisung, but he's so damn girthy. Every tiny thrust he rocks into you sends shivers down your spine. Your skin feels like it's on fire and you're not even kissing Chan back, basically panting into his open mouth.

"Prop her up, Chan," Seungmin grits out. "Wanna watch her while she cries."

He gives you one final peck, and then the hand that's still holding your wrists lets go. It takes a second, then both hands are under you, lifting you up off the mattress until you're sat up on his lap with his chest against your back. He crosses your wrists against your chest and holds them in one hand, and then the other snakes up and finds your throat. His hand is way bigger than Seungmin's, and he's not as gentle when he squeezes and forces you to look back at him.

He doesn't look mad, or even turned on. He's smiling at you, like you're a particularly good puppy. "Good girl. Gonna give us a big one, yeah?”

You barely have a moment to understand what he's implying before you feel a hand on your clit. Both of Seungmin's hands are occupied, so you're not sure why it surprises you to see that it's Jisung's deft fingers on you. He's standing behind Seungmin, one hand on him and the other on you.

It feels like your eyes are bulging out of your head. The touch is gentle, but it still feels like you're being hit with lightning bolts. You're too spent to even buck up at the contact.

"Oh my God," you choke. "Oh, oh, I–"

“That's it,” Chan purrs when you cum again. He kisses whatever skin is closest to his mouth, his fingers gripping your jaw. Your head feels light, the only thing keeping you grounded to the bed are their hands on you. You feel like you're going to faint, and Seungmin's eyes are only egging you on.

Your body trembles so violently, Seungmin is forced to pause in his motions to hold your knees and keep your legs from buckling in. Your vision is blurry, but you can see Jisung has a steady grip on Seungmin's hair, effectively holding him in place.

"Good girl," he breathes, those big brown eyes trained on your face. "You take him so well."

His words send shivers down your spine. Jisung is always more coherent and in control after an orgasm. You know if Seungmin was today's focus, Jisung would likely be spitting all kinds of nasty, filthy words in his ear, but his gaze is fixed on you. All it takes to get you going is a good stare.

He taps at your clit with his free hand. You jump, moaning loudly at the contact, your back arching off Chan's chest and into Seungmin's body.

"She's good. Keep going," Jisung murmurs, pulling his eyes away from yours to look at Seungmin. He pulls a little at the hair on the nape of his neck, causing Seungmin's cock to jump inside you.

They work in tandem. Jisung's hand keeps circling your clit in the same soft rhythm, and you're not sure how but it's making you even wetter and more loose. You're a mess of moans, not knowing whose name to scream when they all have their hands on you. It's dizzying in the best way. 

Seungmin has started rolling his hips into you with more vigor, the soft sound of skin slapping skin filling the room. The dark shroud over his eyes is back as he stares down at you. "Feels good doesn't it," he grunts. "Look at your little cunt fluttering open for me like a good slut."

You feel another sob bubble out of you, this one accompanied by tears, but it dies in your throat when Chan's grip on you gets even tighter. All you can do is pout and whine.

"Aw, look at the little crybaby." Seungmin starts to fuck into you in earnest, his own moans getting higher in pitch. You can tell by the way Jisung's grip in his hair tightens that he's close. "C'mon angel. You're being so good, you can take it."

"Minnie," you rasp, barely able to speak. "Please–"

"I said take it." He’s looking down, watching where your cunt is sucking him in with each thrust. He thrusts into you particularly hard, and your entire body lurches forward, causing you to gasp. "And if you can't, you know what to say. You know your word."

You do. Somehow, under all the begging and pleading, you're actually insanely giddy with want. It's all part of the little game you play, so you just pout pathetically at Seungmin as his hips snap harder into yours.

"She's not gonna say it," Chan sing-songs. He uses the hand on your throat to tilt your head to the side, giving him perfect access to more of you. He nips at your skin. "She likes being treated like this. Like a little toy."

It's all too much. Every inch of you is on fire, the room feels like it's a thousand degrees. Chan's mouth on your neck, Seungmin's cock deep in your cunt, and Jisung's fingers–

It's like something snaps.

A knot you didn't even realize was in your stomach explodes and your vision goes white. It's an orgasm unlike anything you've experienced before. Your brain completely melts, your hearing dulls, and you can feel the drool running down your chin. You feel like you're floating and drowning all at the same time. 

"Oh shit," you hear Seungmin groan. Your cunt is spasming around him. His thrusts become harder, sloppy. "God, fuck–"

He cums hard inside of you, hips jerking as he chases the aftershocks. You've gone completely limp, barely able to move at all as Chan continues to bite at your neck.

The hand on Seungmin's shoulder drops. "That's so hot," Jisung mutters, almost to himself. He's lost some of his in-control voice. "Wow, baby, you should be bratty more often.”

If you could see straight, you'd probably laugh at that.

Seungmin pulls out slowly, and when the head of his cock leaves you, you let out a tiny mewl. You're overstimulated to the point that you're numb. Seungmin smiles softly as he rubs the inside of your thigh.

"Oh, sweetheart, I know. It's a lot. But you're being so good for us.  I think it's Chan's turn though, hm? Wanna make him feel good?"

"Give her a minute," Jisung chides. You hear a sharp intake of breath and you know he's likely yanked on Seungmin's hair again. "She's about to pass out."

You can feel your limbs slowly returning to you, the fog clearing in your head. When Chan moves the hand from your throat, you breathe deeply, taking in gulps of air as moves his hand down to rub against your tummy. Jisung and Seungmin are bickering somewhere around you, and you let yourself relax in Chan's hold.

"Do you want to finish now, princess?" His lips are warm against your ear. "We can be done. You don't have to take me.”

It's a very tempting offer, especially with the way you can hardly remember what day it is. You could easily take it and call this all done. The four of you have almost certainly been at this for more than an hour now, and they've wrung six orgasms out of you. They're sweet enough to offer to call it a night.

But then you think about Chan, and how, despite being the reason this all started, he's barely done anything. Hasn't tasted you, hasn't shoved his cock down your throat– He's usually not one for letting go until you've milked him dry at least twice, and you can't stand the idea of him having that buzz under his skin all night. 

So you shake your head.

"No?" Chan laughs, almost like he's surprised. "Really? You still want to finish with me? Are you sure, princess?”

He's giving you the same offer he gave you earlier. An out. Making your comfort the first priority. The thought alone is what gives you the strength to nod against him.

"'m sure, Channie."

"Oh, fuck, okay." His grip around you goes a little slack as he moves, pulling you away from his lap and  laying you back into your bed. He leans over you and presses a gentle kiss against your mouth. It feels like he's thanking you, almost.

When he pulls away, his eyes are sparkling. You want to look into them for hours.

He barks something at Jisung and Seungmin, and the bickering stops immediately. You hear shuffling around you before Seungmin takes Chan's empty space and Jisung appears at your side. They're pressing soft kisses to your face and praising you as Chan works his shorts and boxers down. When his cock springs free, he lets out a hiss of relief.

The sight of him alone makes anxiety rear its ugly head. You start to wonder if maybe you should've taken the opportunity to tap out, or if maybe you should use your safeword, but then Jisung is grabbing your hand and pressing kisses against it, squeezing you and keeping you tethered to the present.

"You can do it, pretty girl," he murmurs in your ear, breath fanning over your cheek. "You did so good for us, just a little longer."

Chan catches your eyes, and he smiles again, reassuring. His hand runs down your body and grabs one of your legs, lifting it and hooking your calf over his shoulder. "Gonna go easy, baby. I know it's a lot."

Your stomach is filled with butterflies, and your hands are shaking a little bit when he ruts himself up against you. You're so open from the others that when his head catches on your entrance, it nearly slips inside.  

Your back arches as you moan, and then his cock brushes against your entrance with purpose and it feels like you're going to split right open. He rocks into you again, pushing in the barest inch and pulling right back out. You whine and shift your hips in an attempt to escape.

"Come on, be a good girl now, princess." His voice has gotten lower, lust taking over. "Relax.”

His eyes flit up from where you're connected to look at you, and in one move he pushes right inside of you.

It doesn't hurt– you're way too wet and open for that. It does feel like your stomach is being forced open, however. Like his cock is pressing against all of your internal organs. You arch up off of Seungmin's lap and he pulls you back to him quickly.

Chan groans, bottoming out inside you. His eyes are closed as he lets himself bask in the sensation, hips rocking shallowly. You're thankful that he doesn't move immediately, but even the barest amount of movement feels like too much, like you'll come apart at any second.

You barely feel it when Jisung slips your hand into his. It takes you a minute to realize it's because your brain has been reduced to nothing. Your body has melted into the bed, your muscles are lax, and there's an emptiness in your brain filled with nothing but static and Chan's name. You don't think about anything at all, can't form a single coherent thought. You don't feel the kisses on your throat or the way Seungmin's hands have taken residence on your stomach. The only thing you feel is the overwhelming pressure in your cunt as Chan slowly pulls out, leaving just the tip, before pushing all the way back in.

He builds a rhythm quickly. Seungmin is holding you tight to his body, as though he's scared you might float away, and you appreciate it because it gives you another sensation to focus on. Your head is lolled against his shoulder, eyes rolled back into your head so far all you see is white.

The sound of Chan fucking into you is absolutely obscene, a mixture of your juices and the remnants of the cum still leaking from your hole. He fucks you slow, but hard, snapping his hips into yours so hard it almost feels like you might get a bruise on your thigh.

Jisung is watching with hungry eyes from your side. He's not touching you at all anymore, too engrossed in the scene unfolding to do much else other than stare with his jaw slacked. Seungmin takes over for him.

"That's it," he breathes. "That's it angel, look at you." He moves the hand on your stomach and lets his thumb rub circles on your clit. You feel like you're going to pass out. You don't get time to beg him to stop before you feel that same hand move to your mouth, and two fingers push past your lips.

"Here, sweetheart," he breathes, eyes fixed on your lips as you suck his fingers. "That's you on my fingers, baby. Isn't it good?"

You moan around his hand, head spinning both at the taste of yourself and the intrusion of Seungmin's fingers in your mouth. He's not fucking them into you with any kind of rhythm, just shoving them in there until you're dribbling around his hand. He hums happily when he pushes in more and makes you gag, kissing away the tears the spill over.

Chan grunts, head falling back. "Min, again, please, she just– fuck, she–"

Seungmin doesn't need to be told twice. He repeats the motion again, making sure his fingers go far enough so you're choking around him. This time, when you splutter and gag, you can feel it when you clench down on Chan and his cock pulses in response.

"Oh my God," he moans, thrusting into you again. "Oh my god, baby, you're so good. You're doing so fucking good–"

Between the movement of his hips and the feeling of Seungmin's fingers down your throat, you're not quite sure you're still on this plane of existence. Everything is spinning around you, your cunt is throbbing, you can hear Jisung moaning somewhere, but you don't know from what.

You can feel Seungmin's lips pressed against your forehead as his fingers fuck your mouth, your eyes rolling back into your head again. You're so lightheaded, so far gone, you can barely remember your name. 

It's when Chan starts to thrust faster that you come back to your body with a jolt, mind filling with white hot heat. The pleasure has long since lost it's edge, and you're a moaning, writhing, teary mess again. The coil in your stomach starts to build for the seventh time, and you're pretty sure your brain has gone empty. The only thing you're able to focus on is Chan. Chan, Chan, Chan.

"Almost done, angel." You register a kiss pressed to the corner of your mouth, and then another on your forehead. You think the voice belongs to Seungmin. Maybe, if the way he eases his hand out of your mouth is any indication.

Nothing is making sense anymore. It all feels like you're having an out-of-body experience.

Chan's hips falter, and his hand slides up to your throat again, but he doesn't squeeze. Just rests it there as his orgasm approaches, hips snapping against you at an erratic rhythm.

"Sweetheart." His eyes flutter open with strained effort, but they remain locked on yours. "Can you give us one more, princess? Hm? Can I get you to cum on me too, please?"

There's a desperation in his voice that makes your body feel hot. You want to tell him yes, that you're close, so so close, but all that comes out is a weak noise that you're not even certain you made. 

Seungmin seems to get it though, because he slips his fingers down between your legs, finding your clit again. He rolls it between his fingers with one hand while his other reaches up and settles on your jaw. You feel Jisung's tongue flick over your nipple and your world draws to a pinpoint.

Chan curses above you, fucking into you at an almost punishing pace. "Yes, baby, let go for us. That's it. We got you."

It feels like someone's stuck a vacuum in your brain with the incoherent way you're thinking. The sound of his voice saying your name in that desperate tone is all it takes, and suddenly you're floating out of your body, ears ringing as the pressure inside you bursts. Your eyes roll back and the clinging remnants of an orgasm wash through your body. It feels more like an aftershock. You're only vaguely aware of the way Chan moans, loud and throaty, when he finally spills into you.

It takes a couple minutes before the two of you come back down to earth. You can't move, and even though you know Seungmin is holding you tight, it feels like you might drift right off the mattress and float up into the clouds.

Chan pulls out slowly, and you shudder when you feel a trickle of his cum leaking from your hole. It's not long before your eyes droop shut from pure exhaustion. You think you might pass out right on the spot.

The room gets kicked into gear pretty quickly after that. From what you can tell in the hazy state you're in, someone grabs a wet cloth to wipe you down with while someone else finds you a new t-shirt (and panties this time). They dress you like you're a doll, maneuvering your limbs and telling you you're good, you're so good, they love you so much.

Then you're scooped up into a pair of arms while the distant sounds of sheets being pulled off the bed floats up to you. They take you out of the room.

"You did so good for us, baby." The owner of the arms whispers against your ear. From the cadence in their tone you're pretty sure it's Jisung. "You were such a good girl for us, sweetheart. We're so proud of you."

You think you nod against him, but you can't be sure. You hear him kick a door open, and then he sets you down on a bed and you register Seungmin and Chan coming in.

"Okay," Jisung murmurs, going through his aftercare list out loud. "Fresh bed, fresh clothes, we got her some water."

You feel the bed dip behind you. "We got it, but she's gotta drink it, though," Chan chimes. There's fondness in his voice as he scoots closer to you. "Come here, baby."

You let yourself go limp, and a content smile plasters on your face as your boys fuss over you and make sure you're comfortable. They're so gentle, despite what just transpired, and they all take turns pressing kisses against your head, your cheeks, your nose.

When you've all settled into the bed, you feel three pairs of arms around you, holding you close, and you feel insanely lucky for all of it. You snuggle deeper into someone's chest, humming absentmindedly in that dreamy, fucked-out headspace.

"Thank you," you mumble, pressing a kiss to whoever you're snuggled against. You think it's Jisung from the way they nuzzle into your cheek.

"Of course, princess," Chan replies, his voice vibrating against your back. You feel his lips press against your temple, and you smile again. "You're our good girl, even when you're a brat. We'll always take care of you.”

You don't bother replying, simply allowing yourself to sink back into that fuzzy state. You're about to slip out of consciousness when you feel Jisung's nose against your cheek.

"You really do need to be bratty more often, though."

WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Mature Themes. Potentially Triggering Themes. Polyamorous Relationships. Member x Member. Established! SKZ. Reader is from America (I Am Sorry). Religious Trauma/Guilt. Bullying/Harassment. Homophobia. Internalized Homophobia. Depression. Anxiety. Self Deprecating Thoughts. Overworking. Burnout. Insecurity. Emotionally Vulnerability. Emotionally Distress. Past Abuse. Awful Past Relationships. Mentions of Cheating. Awful Familial Relationships. Mentions of Self-Harm/ Suicidal Ideation. Mentions of Past Underage Drinking. Classism. Dark Humor. JYP Slander. Age Gaps (Reader is younger than all of SKZ). Lots of Non-Sexual Domination. Eventual Smut. Size Differences/ Kink. BDSM. Kink Negotiation. Virgin! Reader. Copious amounts of kissing and making out. Marking. Possessiveness. Corruption Kink. Grinding/Dry Humping. Dirty Talk. Begging. Lots Of Praise. Body Worship. Degradation. P In V Sex. Unprotected Sex. Loss of Virginity. Switch! Reader. Dom/Sub. Light Spanking. Choking. Use of Toys. Bondage. Fingering. Oral. Belly Bulges. Dacryphilia. Strength Kink. Edging. Multiple Orgasms/Overstimulation. Facials. Creampies. Aftercare!!

(More to be added but all warnings will be properly listed before each chapter. Everything here is still subject to change).

STATUS: Ongoing…

― START DATE: April 16, 2026.

― END DATE: TBA.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Finally, my baby that I've been working on for awhile. If you have read the WIPS I’ve posted of this, beware: things have changed. I don’t think the changes are too drastic but they’re definitely there. Please read through the warnings well. There will be triggering subjects in here. If I miss anything in the warnings and you notice please let me know so I can add them.

MASTERLIST

Chapter One: The Eight Of Us.

Chapter Two: SEVEN?!

Chapter Three: Not Domestic Banana.

©heybrownieboy | do not copy, repost, or translate my work

You had been running late for all your lectures this week, but you were finally on time for this one. Actually, you were almost an hour early for this class. But that was mostly because you had a class two hours beforehand which meant that there was no time to travel all the way back to your apartment for only an hour before having to return to campus. But still, at least you were on time.

The innovation building was the best on your university campus — walls of blue glass, tall concreted lecture theatres, wooden floors and hanging lights, and your favourite: the laboratories. Marine biology. Geophysics. Chemistry. Biotechnology. Medical science. Design technology. Engineering. And your own major, Physics. Only two of your classes were held in the pretty building—Astrophysics 323 and Chemistry 101—the rest of your classes and labs were unfortunately scattered across the entire campus. Which, you bitterly remember, take a 15 minute walk between each of the buildings, even if your lectures are back-to-back. One of the many reasons you run late. ‘But,’ you think, ‘that one isn’t your fault, it’s the class organisers… Technically.’ But, this rainy Monday morning, you were sitting at one of the tables outside the lecture theatres waiting for your professor to unlock the doors. A takeout cup of green tea cooling by the laptop. Headphones on. Your hand fidgeting with a pen while reading your lecture notes. And on time. You hear them before you see them. A large group of what you suspect are foreign exchange students (not surprisingly, the university was known it’s science and technology departments, and international students were common) and their staff or translators. All dressed up in dark hoodies and face masks. ‘Did they get the memo covid was over?’ You wondered amused. You can’t hear what anyone is saying through your headphones, but you watch discreetly as they all walk past you and out the main entrance. One of them pauses and swiftly walks to the staircase before lifting a leg onto the third step. He puts down a water bottle and phone to retie his shoe as another person approaches and stands next to them almost like a bodyguard. Curiously sparks bright just as that one song—that you’ve been meaning to unlike from your spotify favourites for months now—plays too loud and jarringly. With a little sigh, you look away to turn your phone on and skip the song. But by the time you raise your head again, they’re gone. The sparks flicker and fate. Professor Manalo opens the lecture theatre doors wide and you take the opportunity to go in early to get the good seats in the front. You wash your hands in the deep porcelain sink with deionised water, then put the lab’s black rubber gloves on before taking your designated seat on table B2. Marina and the Diamonds spins around in your headphones. Slowly the room filled up with your fellow students, squawking boys and gossiping girl, all with their lab coats and safely glasses on, as the instructor sets up the projector screen. The practical goes well as always, and two hours later you’re walking out those same doors. Rummaging around in your backpack for the portable charger, you realise belatedly that it’s… missing? ‘Oh course it is. Why wouldn’t it be.’ ‘Great, great, great,’ you think while rushing to the seat that you sat in earlier, ‘if someone stole it already…’ But of course, the table is empty. Unfamiliar students and staff dot the area casually, but no sign of your charger. Fuck. Eyes searching the area, you find nothing but people, their bags, laptops, one abandoned empty coffee cup—that you bin—and some scattered pens. You double check. Then triple check. No charger. But your doomed hope skyrockets when you spot a small black square tucked into the side of the main staircase, and race over to hopefully retrieve your lost charger. You pick it up and it’s… a phone. Not yours. Not your charger. Great. Just great. “(Y/N)! You comin’ to the next lecture or skipping ‘n shit?” Jack, your classmate, yells (too loudly) from the main door. “Huh? Oh yeah, ‘m coming…” You pocket the phone, needing to hand it in at the student centre after your last lesson. And hopefully someone else handed in your charger? ‘Yeah, I’m not that lucky.’

Who the hell is going to believe you when you say that you did try and hand the lost phone in. You really did try, even leaving your last lecture of the day 10 minutes early to try and make it to the administration building before it shut. But by the time you got there only 3 minutes late it had already closed. And it wouldn’t be opened until Monday. Extinguishing any minuscule amount of hope you had to return the phone and find your charger. What a waste of time. And now here you were: sitting on your bed, bag of popcorn on your starry sheets, laptop open and abandoned on your lecture notes, and mystery phone light up in hand. For starters when you turned the thing on, the phone wasn’t password protected and took you straight to the homescreen. The display was thankfully in English too, with auto translate turned on from what looks like japanese or korean. The lockscreen and homescreen were the same image of some skyline unfamiliar to you. You refused to open the photos app on principle, but you did have to try to find out who the phone belonged to so you could return it. The text app was light up with 43 unread messages. You really really shouldn’t look. You should just turn the phone off and wait to respectfully hand it in on Monday. This is someone else’s property and privacy, you’d feel pissed off if a stranger went through your own phone. That’s what you keep telling yourself as you open the text messages and see the most recent messages. 11 different people tried to contact the phone in the hours since you’ve had it. The most recent one—named Hyunjinnie?—you open and read last few messages looking for the name of the phone owner, before texting them. You try the second one when the first blocks you.

They left you on fucking read??? For a second you’re tempted to submerge the phone into the dish water. To blow up the electrics and your stupid little desire to help a stranger out. Who the hell blocks or leaves someone on read who’s trying to return a lost phone?? Without another look or attempt, you turn the phone off to the sound of a train screaming past your apartment, and the warm yellow streetlights beginning to blotting out the stars.

It’s 4:12am when the phone lights up. Because of course the owner doesn’t have the damn phone on silent mode. Blearily you feel around in the dark of your bedside table for the phone, turning the brightness down low before reading the text.

On one side of the world, you’re out like a light with your face smushed against a pillow. On the other side, Seungmin is staring down at your texts.

AN: ahhhh panic, panic… okay so this is my first published fic, so please if there’s any mistakes or if you have some opinions, please do send them through! Can you guess whose phone the reader’s got, or who’s gonna be her favourite???

The room is thick with tension, the warm, musky scent of sweat mixing with the sharp gleam of your strap-on. You slide the harness over your hips, the cool touch of the leather tightening snug around you, the head slick and glistening from your saliva. Your boys kneeled obediently before you, eyes wide with anticipation, breaths already shaky with want.

“Let’s get this ready,” you say softly, voice low but commanding.

Both Jisung and Minho lean forward, mouths opening as they take the base of your strap-on between their lips. You feel their warm, wet tongues swirling over the slick leather, sucking and licking as they work to heat it up. The sounds of their eager mouths slurping, soft hums, and wet noises, fill the room and send a delicious shiver down your spine, as their tongues slide against each other.

Jisung’s cheeks flush a rosy pink, eyes shining with that familiar desperate need. His hands fidget at his lap, already straining against the fabric of his pants as you murmur dirty things just loud enough for him to hear.

“Such a good boy, getting so worked up for Mommy,” you tease, trailing a finger gently down his flushed cheek.

Minho scoffs beside him, dark eyes flicking sideways. “Look at Hannie, creaming his pants already. Can’t even wait, like a baby.”

Jisung whimpers softly, cheeks burning deeper as he swallows hard. You ignore Minho's snarks, focusing on your pretty angel, wide eyed, mouthing at the tip of your strap. You giggle as you push his head further down. 

"Look how well you're taking it~" you coo as him, while Minho huffs as the motion practically knocks him away. You take your time working Han over your strap, as he gasps and blubbers as it hits the back of his throat, rubbing his legs together, shifting his erection. 

You shift your attention to Minho, who was watching you with a stubborn scowl.

“You're just jealous of my pretty boy, aren't you?” you ask, voice softening just a touch.

Minho’s lip trembles. “NO.”

You shake your head, a sly smile playing on your lips. You move your feet to press Ji's erection, almost palming him in a way, as he whines around your strap. It only takes a couple more seconds for him to cum in his pants, tears spilling out of his eyes as he mumbles apologies around your cock. 

That grabs Min's attention as he perks up to mock his boyfriend, "See, I told you he can't do it right."

You scowl at him, not amused. “That’s enough out of you.”

Minho opens his mouth to retort, but the sharp raise of your brow silences him. You grab him by the collar and pull him up, letting him stumble to his feet, breath catching as your body presses close to his.

“You think you’re so clever, huh? So much better?” You lean in, your voice dropping into something thick and dark. “If you’re that confident, ride me. Show me how well you can do it all by yourself.”

His eyes widen just slightly, lips parting in disbelief. “What?”

“No hands from me. No help. Since you’re so cocky.” Your tone leaves no room for argument as you move back, planting yourself on the bed, strap glistening and upright. “Now get on.”

Minho glares, but it’s shaky at the edges, his bravado already fraying. Jisung stays kneeling on the sheets, dazed and blinking through the haze of his orgasm, cheeks flushed and legs twitching as he catches his breath beside you. He looks up through wet lashes and smiles softly, proud and content. Your hand slides over his head in a soft stroke, and he nuzzles your palm, the perfect contrast to the brat currently standing frozen in front of you.

Minho hesitates. But then, slowly, he climbs into your lap. He straddles you awkwardly at first, his breath ragged as he grips your shoulders for balance. His thighs are already trembling with anticipation, or maybe frustration.

You don’t help him. Not even a hand to steady. Just your eyes, cool and expectant, and Jisung’s quiet panting beside you.

“Go ahead, baby,” you murmur. “Since you know so much better.”

He sinks down the first inch and gasps, a choked, frustrated noise that slips past clenched teeth. You don’t move. You just watch, one arm draped lazily over the headboard, the other resting on Jisung’s knee. 

Minho rides you in broken, uneven movements, hips stuttering as he lowers and lifts, trying to get the right angle. It’s not enough. His brows furrow deeper with every failed attempt to push himself closer to release. The sweat glistens on his chest and collarbone, his hair clinging to his forehead. Every time he gets close, his thighs start to shake, and his rhythm falters, leaving him teetering just below the edge.

“Mommy,” he finally whines, breathless and humiliated. “I-I can’t…”

Jisung lets out a soft sigh and leans against you. You run your fingers through his hair slowly. “Of course you can’t. Not like this.”

Minho’s hands are digging into your shoulders now, not in defiance, but desperation. His lip trembles. His thighs buckle again, and he slumps forward, burying his face into your neck.

“You’re so mean,” he mumbles, voice thick. “So-so mean.”

You hum thoughtfully. “You wanted to be in control. You said you could handle it better than Ji.”

“I didn’t mean… like this,” he stammers. His hips twitch in a pathetic attempt to keep moving. “Please-please,”

You finally sigh, feigning annoyance as you guide him off you. He whimpers at the loss, trembling in your grip, pliant and desperate.

“You really are useless when you get like this,” you mutter, flipping him over with little effort, pressing him chest-to-chest with Jisung, who’s already blinking up at you with wide, sleepy eyes.

Minho lets out a gasp, the contact of Han’s body and your strong hands making him melt further. You line yourself back up and push in with no warning this time, and he practically sobs from the relief. You don’t slow down. You thrust hard and steady, forcing his legs wider, driving every edge and sob out of him.

Till finally, he breaks. His whole body locks up, legs trembling violently as he cries out and spills between himself and Han, soaking both their stomachs. Jisung whines softly at the sensation, wrapping his arms around Minho’s back and babbling, breathless nonsense into his ear.

You don’t let go of Minho until his trembling slows, until his breathing turns to little hiccups. Then you press soft kisses to his damp cheeks, shushing his frantic gasps.

“There’s my good boy,” you murmur. “You just needed Mommy to take care of you, didn’t you?”

Minho nods miserably, burying his face in Han's neck again. Jisung giggles sleepily, stroking Minho’s back with a lazy hand, smiling softly, nuzzling into your neck as you wrap your arms around both boys.

After finally wrapping up a grueling world tour and delivering back-to-back promotional content, the label finally greenlit a much-needed two-week break. The catch? They had to stay together, off-grid, and technically still under “brand-safe” guidelines. Cue Jisung casually throwing out “What if we went somewhere warm? Like, stupid warm?”

Chan floated Bali, expecting it to get dismissed, but to his surprise, the group jumped at the idea.

So now here you are—manager on vacation, which is ironic because you're still managing. Hotel bookings, sunscreen reminders, and making sure Seungmin doesn’t pick a fight with a sea turtle.

The villa was split into two wings: one for the chaos (Han, Minho, Seungmin, and Jeongin) and one for the “peaceful, responsible ones’ with Bang Chan, Hyunjin, and Felix.

You ended up in a suite right next to the one that housed your boys, and it was meant to be relaxing.

But now you're dodging lingering stares over breakfast, shared poolside glances, and late-night knocks that aren’t exactly “professional.”

No schedule, no press, no stage lights.

Just Bali sunsets, sweat-slick skin, and three men who promised to wait for you—now with nothing but time.

They were supposed to behave, but Hyunjin was currently pressed against your back in the hallway of your suite, hands at your waist like he was trying not to lose his mind, lips ghosting your ear.

“You walked around in that swimsuit on purpose,” he whispered, his voice full of bite, heat curling into every word.

“You asked me to wear it,” you shot back, smirking—right as Felix rounded the corner and saw the two of you.

And just like that, you were in trouble.

Felix didn’t say a word, just looked at you like he could devour you where you stood. His freckles were kissed pink from the sun, his curls still damp from the pool, and he didn’t need to say a thing to let you know exactly what he wanted.

Hyunjin saw that look and pulled you closer, possessive now. “Felix, don’t start.”

But Felix just tilted his head. “I didn’t even touch her yet.”

The tension hit like a wave—thick, heavy, dangerous.

You should’ve stopped it there. You knew you should’ve stepped back. It could’ve been any one of the other boys who’d rounded that corner, but Felix’s hand was already brushing your hip, Hyunjin’s fingers were digging in, and your knees were starting to go weak.

“Are you three serious right now?”

Chan’s voice cut through the air like a whip.

He stood at the top of the stairs, towel slung around his shoulders, hair wet, eyes hard with disappointment.

Your stomach dropped.

“Get your hands off her,” he said to Hyunjin and Felix, stepping down slowly. “I told you—vacation or not, you don’t get to be reckless with her.”

They backed off, but the fire was still in their eyes. Felix licked his lips. Hyunjin looked like he wanted to say something but bit it back.

Chan reached you last, standing close enough that your breath caught.

“You okay?” he asked lowly, tilting your chin up with two fingers.

You nodded. Barely.

He leaned in, voice silk-wrapped steel. “Then keep it together. Because if they touch you again without permission—I’ll handle it myself.”

And something about the way he said that made your legs cross on instinct.

Dinner was supposed to be calmer.

It wasn’t.

Hyunjin sat beside you, Felix across from you, and Chan… at the head of the table, watching. The rest of the boys were dispersed in the other empty seats throughout and the villa’s private chef served course after course while the ocean breeze drifted through the open terrace, soft candlelight dancing across the linen.

But you weren’t paying attention to the view.

Hyunjin’s hand slid along your thigh beneath the tablecloth, just enough to make your leg twitch. He didn’t look at you. Just kept chewing his fish like he wasn’t playing a dangerous game.

You pressed your lips together, cleared your throat.

Felix caught the motion and leaned his elbow on the table, resting his cheek in his palm while his foot—his damn foot—began sliding slowly along your ankle, teasing up your calf. The look in his eyes said it all: you started this.

And Chan?

Chan hadn’t touched his wine. He just swirled the glass in slow circles, eyes flicking between all three of you. Sharp and knowing.

You tried to act normal.

You tried.

“Something wrong, manager-nim?” Chan asked across the table, and you could hear the challenge in his voice.

You blinked, heart in your throat. “N-no. Just… the breeze.”

Felix smirked. Hyunjin’s fingers crept higher.

Chan leaned back in his seat, stretching lazily like a lion in the sun, then rested one hand on the table with purpose. He stood, slow and deliberate, then walked around behind your chair and bent down, whispering in your ear:

“Finish your meal, angel. You’ll need the energy.”

Later, in your bedroom, long after the moon had taken to the sky, he didn’t speak until the door shut behind you.

Then, he locked it.

“I told you three to keep it together,” Chan said, voice low and even as he turned to face you, Hyunjin, and Felix. “So what is it? You think I won’t follow through? That I won’t remind you how this works?”

No one spoke.

He pointed to the edge of the bed. “Sit.”

You sat.

“Hyunjin—knees.”

Hyunjin dropped to the floor in front of you, flushed and breathing unevenly.

“Felix—stand behind her.”

Felix obeyed, fingers twitching with the urge to touch you again. But he didn’t, not without permission.

Chan stepped in front of you last, tilting your chin up with that same quiet authority, and a voice soft enough to be dangerous.

“You two want to show off how much you want her?” His gaze never left yours. “Fine. You’re gonna help me ruin her. But only when I say so. Understand?”

“Yes,” Hyunjin breathed.

Felix’s voice was darker. “Yes, Chan.”

Chan’s lips brushed your ear, the words like velvet over steel:

“And you, angel? You’re not getting off easy either.”

His eyes never left yours.

You were still perched, legs parted just enough to tease, head tipped back from where Hyunjin knelt in front of you, looking like a damn fever dream—his lips were swollen already, jaw tight, eyes begging.

Felix stood behind you like a halo of heat. His breath danced against your neck. “You want to kiss her so badly, huh?” Chan said softly, but his words bit. “Couldn’t even wait ‘til after dinner. Couldn’t keep your hands to yourselves.”

No one moved.

“Felix,” he said, voice calm but razor-sharp. “Put your hands on her waist.”

Felix exhaled shakily. His palms landed on your hips, firm and possessive, grounding you instantly.

“Hyunjin,” Chan went on, “kiss up her thighs. Slowly.”

You shuddered.

Hyunjin obeyed without a word. Lips trailing warm, soft fire from your knees up. Not rushed—worshipful. Like he’d been starving and finally got a taste. He kissed just shy of your center, breath ghosting over the wetness in a way that made your stomach clench.

Chan crouched to his level. “Don’t get greedy,” he warned lowly. “That’s mine.”

Hyunjin nodded once, chest rising and falling fast.

There was a pause, the air in the room thickened like syrup.

Chan stepped back, smug and dominant in that calm, methodical way that made your thighs clamp together on instinct.

“You’ll thank me later,” he said, brushing his lips across your jaw. “But for now?”

His hand wrapped around your throat just enough to make you still.

“You’re gonna take every. single. thing. I give you.”

It was chaos in slow motion.

Hyunjin had your legs spread open across the bed, kissing down your thighs like he meant to memorize every inch. Felix knelt behind you, one arm around your waist, the other cupping your breast, fingers teasing over your nipple like he was testing how fast he could make you moan.

Chan paced beside the bed, shirtless, sweat slicking his chest, eyes narrowed with control barely hanging on.

“You really let them touch you in public like that?” he asked lowly, grabbing your chin to make you look at him. “Let them tease you like some little groupie who doesn’t know who she belongs to? What if you’d have been caught? Hm? If Jisung had come down those steps instead of me?”

You tried to answer. You couldn’t.

Hyunjin’s tongue slid over your clit with a slow, devastating stroke and our hips jolted. Felix held you tighter, groaning into your neck.

“She’s soaking,” Hyunjin whispered. “Dripping. She’s so sensitive.”

“She’s greedy,” Chan corrected.

Felix’s hand moved between your legs, his fingers joining Hyunjin’s mouth—slow, practiced strokes in time with your breath. You were unraveling already, hips twitching, thighs trembling.

But Chan wasn’t done.

“Don’t let her come.”

Hyunjin moaned in frustration but obeyed—pulling back just as your thighs clenched around his head. Felix cursed softly against your skin, but moved his fingers lower, teasing your entrance without giving you what you needed.

Chan climbed onto the bed, sliding between your legs. “You think they’re good at teasing? Let me show you what denial really feels like.”

He dipped two fingers into you without warning, pressing deep, curling just right. You choked on a cry, your back arching. Felix held your arms down when you tried to move.

“You’ll take it,” Chan growled, fucking you with his fingers slow, deep, cruelly. “Until I say you’ve earned it.”

Hyunjin’s mouth was back on your thigh, but this time lower, lips brushing Felix’s fingers when he licked over you, and Felix groaned like he could come just from watching.

“You wanna kiss him, Hyunjin?” Chan asked.

Hyunjin nodded, eyes hazy.

“Then earn that too.”

Felix pulled his fingers from you and sucked them clean—loud, wet, and messy—before grabbing Hyunjin by the jaw and kissing him like he’d die without it. Tongue first, raw, desperate.

You cried out at the sight, at the feeling of Chan’s fingers stroking you right on the edge while you watched two of your boys fall apart for each other.

“Beg for it, baby,” Chan said. “Let them hear you. Let them know whose girl you really are.”

You begged.

You sobbed.

And when you finally came, Chan didn’t let it stop there.

He just smiled darkly and whispered, “Again.”

You were on your knees now, back arched, head tipped up in obedience.

Felix knelt beside you, flushed and shaking. His eyes were glassy, lips kiss-swollen and bitten.

Hyunjin stood behind you both, the only one still partially clothed, shirt half open, mouth parted in awe and frustration.

“You want to switch places with me, don’t you?” Chan asked Hyunjin, his voice like velvet and fire. “Want to be the one in control?”

Hyunjin swallowed hard.

Chan reached down, and tangled a hand in your hair, tilting your face toward him. “But you don’t get to have this,” he whispered. “Not unless I let you.”

Hyunjin growled.

Felix moaned.

And you? You whimpered, hips rocking slightly for friction that wasn’t allowed.

“Felix,” Chan said. “Use your mouth on her.”

Felix dropped to your thighs like a man possessed. His mouth was messy and fast, tongue relentless, and you cried out as your knees buckled—but Chan caught you with a firm hand around your throat.

“Stay up, angel. Let Hyunjin watch how greedy you get.”

Felix groaned against your skin.

Chan tilted your chin toward Hyunjin, who was palming himself through his jeans.

“You want to help him, don’t you?” Chan asked you.

You nodded, already half-broken. “Please.”

“Then you better make it good.”

He shoved you gently toward Hyunjin, who unzipped with shaking hands—and you didn’t hesitate. You took him in your mouth slowly, lovingly, while Felix licked between your legs like he couldn’t breathe without it.

“Look at that,” Chan murmured behind you. 

He didn’t touch you again—not yet, just watched. Commanded. Spoke filth and praise in equal measure.

And when you did finally come?

It was with Felix’s tongue inside you, Hyunjin’s hand tangled in your hair, and Chan’s voice in your ear saying,

“Don’t you ever forget who you belong to.”

You knew it the second Hyunjin kissed you again—really kissed you.

It wasn’t the soft, reverent touch from earlier.

This kiss was hungry.

His hand gripped the back of your neck, pulling you forward, mouth crashing into yours like he was trying to drown in it. Felix lay panting beside you, blissed out and ruined, but Hyunjin?

He was still starving.

And Chan saw it.

He stood near the dresser, arms crossed over his chest, sweat still glistening on his abs. Watching Hyunjin slide his hand down your back and press you flat to the sheets like he was claiming you.

Chan said nothing.

Not yet.

Hyunjin’s fingers found their way between your legs again, slick and practiced, dragging a moan from your throat that made his head fall back in pleasure.

“You feel that?” he whispered against your lips. “You’re soaked for me.”

You whimpered, nodding before you could think.

“And who made you like this?” he growled.

You hesitated.

That’s where you fucked up, my friend.

Hyunjin flipped you onto your stomach, pulling your hips up, pressing into you from behind. Not inside—not yet—but enough to feel the heat of him, the pressure, the promise.

He leaned down, lips brushing your ear.

“Say it. Say it was me.”

You couldn’t answer. Your brain was fried. Your body was too busy trying not to fall apart.

Chan finally moved.

And the room shifted.

He walked over slow, like a storm rolling in, grabbed a fistful of Hyunjin’s hair, and yanked him back with no effort at all.

“You done?” he asked, voice low and terrifyingly calm. “Having fun pretending you’re in charge?”

Hyunjin didn’t speak.

You were shaking. Not from fear—from how much the room crackled.

Chan gripped your jaw and forced you to your knees. “You wanna act like you forgot who makes you scream loud enough to echo in every fucking hallway of this villa?”

You blinked up at him, dazed.

He undid his pants with one hand. “Open.”

You did—lips parted, tongue out, tears already welling as he shoved himself into your mouth with no warning.

Deep. Raw. Desperate.

His hips rolled slow at first, one hand on the back of your head, the other tangled in your curls. You gagged softly but didn’t stop—wouldn’t. He tasted like sweat and salt and ownership.

Felix stirred behind you, dazed, but not moving—just watching with wide, reverent eyes. Hyunjin was still recovering from where Chan had thrown him, still flushed and heaving, but now completely silent. Watching, waiting.

“I let you touch her,” Chan growled between thrusts, looking dead at Hyunjin. “I gave you a taste. And you thought you could take control?”

Hyunjin licked his lips, voice breaking. “She wanted it.”

Chan yanked you back by the hair, spit, and saliva glistening on your lips, your throat swollen and raw from how deep he’d gone.

“She wants me,” he snarled. “Even when she forgets, her body remembers.”

He climbed on top of you, slowly, dragging his palm up your spine until you were pinned under him, hips still arched, face turned sideways on the bed.

Your legs were already shaking. 

He didn’t warm you up this time.

He didn’t need to.

He buried himself inside you in one sharp thrust that had you screaming—no restraint, no forgiveness. You were already so wet, so wrecked, it sounded like slick honey every time he drove into you, punishing and slow.

“You like being watched?” he gritted, thrusts picking up pace. “Like showing them what it looks like when I ruin you?”

Hyunjin was stroking himself hard now, eyes wide with something between awe and shame.

Felix whimpered into his own arm, unable to look away.

Chan leaned over your back, teeth sinking into your shoulder hard enough to mark.

“Say it,” he whispered. “Say who owns you.”

“You,” you sobbed.

“Say who gets to break you.”

“You, Chan. Always you.”

Felix whimpered. Hyunjin groaned.

But Chan wasn’t done.

He gripped your hips and snapped into you harder, pulling a sound from your throat that barely sounded human.

“You can watch, Hyunjin,” he said without looking back. “But you don’t get to lead.”

“And you,” Chan growled down at you, dragging his teeth over your shoulder, “don’t ever hesitate again when someone else tries to take what’s mine.”

You nodded, tears hot and blissful.

He slowed—just enough to make you tremble, to hear every soft sound you made, every little gasp and whisper.

Then he grinned, cruel and warm.

“Good girl.”

And when you came, it was with Chan’s name falling from your lips like worship.

And his voice in your ear saying, “Mine.”

To be continued

"Meaning?" you laugh, giving up the fight. 

Minho huffs softly, remaining quiet for a moment before he speaks up again, his voice much softer now. "He messed up during our live performance today," he sighs. "Means he's questioning his whole existence and won't let me help." 

You hum softly, heart aching at the thought of Chan beating himself up for something like this once again. "And what makes you think I'd have a better shot?" you ask gently. "I won't always be there to comfort him. He's your boyfriend too." 

"Yeah, but he tends to push me away," Minho says quietly, sounding less annoyed now. "I want to help, but…maybe it's easier for him to open up to you." 

"Because?" you ask gently. 

"I don't know, ask him," Minho huffs, almost a little offended. “Probably because you’re a fucking ray of sunshine, respectfully, and I’m not.”

A soft giggle escapes you at his little outburst. "Don't give up, Minnie, okay? You can be quite sunny if you like," you say softly. "I'll stop by the dorm in a bit, okay?" 

"Mhm, okay," he sighs and watches his screen turn black as you end the call after a quick goodbye. He stares down the hallway, eyeing Chan's door, and sighs heavily before walking over. He doesn't knock, knowing Chan would ignore him anyway. 

Chan's lying flat on his stomach in his bed, face buried in a pillow. He doesn't even look up as he barges in. "Fuck off," he grumbles. 

"Not happening," Minho shakes his head before jumping onto his bed and throwing himself half on top of him. "Come on, what's wrong?" he asks caringly. 

"Don't wanna talk about it," Chan groans. 

"Channie, you messed up a few steps. It happens," he sighs, gently rubbing his shoulders.

"I was off tune as well," Chan adds, frustrated. 

"It happens," Minho says as patiently as he can. "You're not going to get canceled because of that. You told the public you're fucking one of your members and your girlfriend; you're still here, aren't you?" he asks, and Chan turns to look at him. Minho's smile falters, seeing the tears burning in Chan's eyes. "I'm sorry, was that too much?" he asks guiltily. 

"I'm a failure," Chan presses out, not addressing Minho’s dumb joke. "How can I lead you guys if I'm the one messing up?" 

Minho's face falls, and for a moment Chan thinks he's mad at him. But there’s no anger in those soft brown orbs. "Channie, love," Minho says softly and caresses his cheek. "You can't possibly mean that." 

"Yes, I do. I'm not as good at dancing as you and Hyunjin are, I can't keep my voice and rap as steady as Hannie, Binnie, or Seungmin, I don't have anything unique like Felix's deep voice, and I don't even have the baby bonus Jeongin has," he says and sucks in a sharp breath. "I'm just me, and that's not enough sometimes." 

"Mhm, okay," Minho huffs softly and sits up. "Come on," he says, pulling at the sleeve of his sweater. Chan groans softly but does as he says, mirroring his position as he faces him. Minho very lovingly cups his face and locks eyes with him. "Just you, huh?" 

"Yeah," Chan shrugs, sniffing softly as he hugs a pillow to his chest and looks at him with big, sad eyes. 

"If just you means being an amazing leader and taking care of the kids at all times. If just you means having the brightest smile with the sweetest dimples and shining eyes. If just you means being kind, creative, passionate, loving, almost annoyingly cuddly, protective, and gentle…then yeah, it's just you," Minho rambles on, desperate to make Chan see what he sees in him. "If being just you means being loved by two people to whom you mean the world and being the best boyfriend one could wish for…then yes, Channie, it's just you, but doesn't it sound amazing?" 

Chan seems to hang at his lips, taking in every word like an addict, face and ears burning up slowly. "Baby, stop being cheesy," he says quietly. 

"I'm not being cheesy if I tell you what's true. These are mere facts I'm sharing," he says, winking at him sweetly. Minho sighs softly before leaning forward and planting slow, gentle kisses all over his face. "I don't expect you to see yourself through my eyes…that would get to your head," he says, and Chan giggles softly. "But try to see your good qualities for once. Try seeing what an effect you have on the people close to you and what you mean to them. Stop making yourself seem smaller than you are, love. And for God’s sake, stop comparing your dance moves to mine, babe. I was a professional dancer before becoming an idol. I’d be offended if you guys were better than me." 

Chan gazes at him intensely, a grin covering his lips, before climbing into his lap and hugging him very tightly. Minho grunts softly before hugging back, a little surprised. "Thank you, baby," Chan tells him quietly, burying his face in his neck. 

Minho smiles a little to himself, eyes beaming at his words working. "I love you, you know?" he says gently, running his hand through Chan's soft curls. 

"I love you too, Min," Chan says softly. 

Minho flinches softly as you're suddenly behind him, caressing his head. "We've got company," he whispers to Chan jokingly. 

"Don't care," Chan mumbles and cuddles even deeper into him. 

"I can leave?" you laugh, only mildly offended. 

Chan shoots up and looks at you with wide eyes. "Oh, babe, I'm so sorry." 

"She's joking," Minho snorts, lovingly patting his back. 

“You’re okay?” you ask Chan gently, and your boyfriend looks at Minho with a soft smile.

“I think I am, yeah,” he nods, and Minho smiles back at him softly.

“I’m glad,” you smile before winking at Minho. “Told you you could do it.”

“Shut up,” he grumbles, not unkind, laughing as you ruffle his hair.

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