#seongwha

You wake up with a pulsing headache. Sunlight shines across your eyes, which instantly wakes you up - A party was the only thing that you could remember at the moment. Too many drinks, too many people. The Sigma Chi house absolutely trashed, bodies everywhere, music so loud you felt it in your skull.

You groan as you lift your hands to your face to rub your eyelids awake. Your arm shifts trying to soothe the static-y feeling of numbness radiating through it. It bumps into something abnormally warm.

You turn your head slowly, trying to figure out the source of the warmth.

Park Seonghwa. Asleep. Next to you. 

Seonghwa, the guy who has girls lined up, practically begging at his feet to be fucked by him. He is handsome. Sharp jawline, perfect skin, hair that falls gracefully across his face as he sleeps. You squint at the glowing red numbers on the nightstand. Ten - fifteen in the morning. 

Before you can even begin to process what is going on, a warm breath grazes across the other side of your neck. Great.

Choi San.

You are sandwiched between Seonghwa and San.

San is all broad shoulders and easy smiles, the kind of guy who makes everyone feel like his best friend. Where Seonghwa is sharp elegance and controlled grace, San is pure warmth. Even in sleep, there's something soft about him, the way his lips are slightly parted, the peaceful expression on his face.

Together, they're the campus heartthrobs. The duo everyone talks about. The ones you've seen around, watched from a distance, never imagining you'd ever be this close to either of them.

Let alone both. Let alone in bed.

Your heart starts hammering as you try to piece together what happened. The party. You'd gone with your roommate, who disappeared early, leaving you to navigate along. You remember the drinking games. The music. Dancing until your feet hurt.

And then - oh god.

It hits you in fragments, hazy at first, like trying to see through steamed glass. Seonghwa's hand on your waist. San's laugh, bright and infectious. The three of you stumbling up the stairs, away from the noise and the crowd.

"You're so pretty," San had said, eyes slightly unfocused but sincere. "Isn't she pretty, Hwa?"

"Beautiful," Seonghwa had agreed, voice low and deliberate.

Your face burns as more memories surface. San's room. The door closing. Seonghwa's mouth on yours, tasting like expensive whiskey and something darker. San's hands, everywhere, eager and warm.

Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god.

You'd slept with them. Both of them. At the same time.

The realization crashes over you like a cold wave, and suddenly you're hyper-aware of every point of contact. San's arm draped over your waist, heavy and possessive even in sleep. The warmth of his chest against your back. Seonghwa facing you, close enough that you can feel his breath.

You're still wearing - you do a quick internal inventory - your underwear, thank god, but your dress is somewhere on the floor. Someone's shirt is draped over you like a makeshift blanket. San's, probably, given the size and the faint scent of his cologne clinging to the fabric.

More memories flood back, sharper now. Vivid and visceral in a way that makes your thighs press together involuntarily.

Seonghwa's voice, commanding but gentle. "Let us take care of you."

San's mouth on your neck, trailing down, down, down. "Tell me what you want. I want to hear you say it."

The feeling of being completely overwhelmed, caught between them, their hands and mouths and bodies working in perfect sync. Seonghwa's fingers threading through your hair, tilting your head back. "That's it. Good girl."

San's breathless moans, the way he'd looked up at you with those big, eager eyes, seeking approval. "Like this?"

And Seonghwa's low chuckle, amused and satisfied. "You're doing perfect, Sannie."

Your breath catches in your throat, heart racing for an entirely different reason now. Because you remember how good it felt. How you wanted to feel. How they'd both looked at you like you were something precious and utterly desirable.

You need to leave. This is insane. Last night was just... a drunken mistake. A one-time thing that shouldn't have happened.

Except.

Except you can't stop thinking about the way Seonghwa had kissed you, slow and deep and devastating. The way San had touched you like he was learning a new language, eager and attentive. The way they'd both made you feel like you were the only person in the world who mattered.

You start to inch away, trying to extract yourself without waking either of them. San's arm tightens reflexively around your waist, pulling you back against him with a sleepy mumble. The movement jostles Seonghwa, whose eyes flutter open.

For a moment, he just looks at you. Dark eyes slightly unfocused with sleep, hair mussed in a way that should be illegal, and then something shifts in his expression. Recognition. Memory. His lips curve into the smallest, most knowing smirk.

"Good morning," he says, voice rough and low, and the sound of it does absolutely nothing to help your current situation.

You freeze, mouth suddenly dry. "I - hi. I should probably-"

"Should what?" Behind you, San stirs, nuzzling closer to the warmth of your body, his nose brushing against the back of your neck. His voice is husky with sleep, and you can feel the vibration of it against your skin. "Mm... five more minutes..."

Seonghwa props himself up on one elbow, looking down at you with that infuriatingly calm expression. Like waking up with a girl between him and his frat brother is just another Tuesday. "Sleep well?"

Your face is on fire. "I... yeah. I mean - look, about last night-"

"What about it?" His tone is casual, but there's something in his eyes that makes your stomach flip. 

"We were drunk," you say quickly, trying to ignore the way San's hand is now splayed across your stomach, fingers just barely brushing the underside of your breast through the thin fabric of his shirt. "Really drunk. So maybe we should just... forget it happened?"

Even as you say it, you don't mean it. Not really. Not when every nerve ending in your body is screaming at you to stay exactly where you are.

San makes a confused sound behind you, finally starting to wake up properly. His arm loosens just enough for you to breathe, but he doesn't let go. "Forget what happened?"

You twist slightly to look at him over your shoulder. He's blinking slowly, adorably confused, hair sticking up in about seventeen different directions. Then his eyes focus on you, really focus, and his expression shifts from sleepy confusion to dawning realization.

"Oh," he says softly. His gaze drops to where his hand is resting on your body, then back to your face. "Oh."

"You don't remember?" Seonghwa asks, and there's amusement in his voice now. He reaches out, fingers trailing along your arm in a touch that's barely there but makes you shiver anyway. "That's a shame."

San's brows furrow, and you can practically see him trying to piece together his fragmented memories. "I remember... the party. And dancing. And coming up here with..." His eyes widened slightly. "With both of you."

"Good start," Seonghwa murmurs. His hand moves from your arm to your hip, not grabbing, just resting there like it belongs. "What else?"

"I…" San's voice cracks slightly. He clears his throat, and you can feel the heat radiating off him. "It's kind of hazy. I remember... feelings. More than specifics."

You should move. But Seonghwa's hand is on your hip and San is pressed against your back and your body seems to have completely forgotten how to function.

"Want us to help you remember?" Seonghwa's voice drops lower, takes on that compelling quality that makes it less of a question and more of a promise.

Your breath hitches. This is crazy. You should get up, get dressed, and leave before this gets even more complicated.

But then San's fingers flex against your stomach, and he makes this small, needy sound that goes straight through you. "Please."

And just like that, any thoughts of leaving evaporate completely.

Seonghwa's smirk widens, just a fraction. "What about you?" His eyes are on you now, dark and intense and reading every micro-expression on your face. "Do you remember?"

"Yes," you whisper, because lying seems pointless when your body is already betraying you, leaning into his touch, pressing back against San.

"And?" His thumb traces small circles on your hip, the touch maddeningly light. "Do you want to stop?"

It's the gentle command in his voice that does it. The way he's giving you an out while simultaneously making it very clear what he wants. What they both want.

What you want.

"No," you breathe, and it comes out shakier than you intended. "I don't want to stop."

San groans softly behind you, and you feel his lips brush against your shoulder. "Thank god. I was worried that maybe you regretted it."

"No regrets," you manage, even though your heart is trying to break out of your chest.

Seonghwa shifts closer, and suddenly the space between you is almost nonexistent. His hand moves from your hip to your face, fingers gentle as they tilt your chin up. "Good girl," he murmurs, and the praise makes your stomach flip. "Because I've been thinking about last night since the moment I woke up."

"Me too," San adds, his voice slightly muffled against your shoulder. His hand slides up, palm flat against your stomach, holding you against him. "Even if I can't remember all of it... I remember how you felt. How you tasted."

Oh god. 

Seonghwa's eyes are still locked on yours, and there's something almost predatory in the way he's watching you. Like he's waiting to see what you'll do next. "San's memory needs some refreshing," he says conversationally, though his voice is anything but casual. "Should we help him out?"

Your mouth has gone completely dry. "How - how would we do that?"

His smile is slow and deliberate. "I think you know exactly how."

And you do. God help you, you do.

San's hand tightens on your waist, and you can feel him pressing closer, his body heat seeping through the thin barrier of clothing between you. "Is that okay?" he asks, voice soft and seeking. "I don't want to - if you're not comfortable-"

"She's comfortable," Seonghwa says with complete certainty, eyes never leaving yours. "Aren't you, sweetheart?"

You nod, because words have completely abandoned you.

"Use your words," he instructs gently, but there's steel underneath the silk. "Tell us what you want."

This is humiliating. You're shy on a good day, and right now, caught between these two devastatingly attractive men who are both looking at you like you're something to be devoured, you can barely string two thoughts together.

But Seonghwa's waiting. They're both waiting.

"I want..." You swallow hard. "I want to help San remember."

"Remember what, specifically?" Seonghwa's thumb brushes across your bottom lip, and the touch makes you dizzy.

He's going to make you say it. Of course he is.

"Last night," you whisper. "I want to... do it again."

San makes a strangled sound behind you, and his grip on you tightens. "Fuck. You're so-"

"Language, Sannie," Seonghwa chides, but he's smiling now. He leans in closer, until his lips are almost brushing yours. Almost, but not quite. "You can do better than that. Tell us exactly what you want."

Your face is burning, but there's something thrilling about this too. About being pushed just slightly outside your comfort zone, about having their complete attention focused on you.

"I want you both," you say, voice barely above a whisper. "I want... I want you to touch me. I want San to remember how I felt. I want…" You break off, embarrassed.

His eyes flash with something dark and pleased. "There we go. That wasn't so hard, was it?"

"Yes," you breathe, and he laughs, low and rich.

"Honest," he murmurs approvingly. "I like that." Then he shifts, sitting up fully and taking command of the space. The change in his demeanor is subtle but unmistakable. Last night, drunk and hazy, it had been easier to miss. But now, sober and clear-headed, you can see exactly what kind of control he wields.

You want to surrender to it.

San sits up too, and you immediately miss the warmth of him against your back. But then Seonghwa is guiding you, hands gentle but firm as he positions you sitting up between them, your back against the headboard.

Seonghwa's hand finds yours, threading your fingers together. "Do you remember how soft her skin is?"

San's gaze drops to where Seonghwa is holding your hand, and he nods slowly.

"Show me," Seonghwa instructs. "Touch her. Remind yourself."

There's a moment of hesitation, and then San's hand is on your knee, warm and tentative. His touch is gentle, questioning, and when you don't pull away, he grows bolder. His palm slides up your thigh, over the curve of your hip, up your side. His fingers trace patterns on your skin, and you can see the moment memory starts to click into place for him.

"Like silk," San murmurs, almost to himself. His hand moves to your arm, your shoulder, your neck. Mapping you out like he's relearning familiar territory. "I remember this. You were so - god, you were so responsive."

"She still is," Seonghwa observes, his eyes tracking the way you're already leaning into San's touch, the way your breathing has changed. "Look at her."

San does, and the intensity in his gaze makes you squirm. "Can I," He licks his lips. "Can I kiss you?"

You nod, but Seonghwa makes a disapproving sound.

"Ask properly, San."

San's ears go pink, but his eyes don't leave yours. "Please. Can I please kiss you?"

"Yes," you breathe.

He leans in slowly, giving you every opportunity to change your mind, and then his lips are on yours. The kiss is sweet and exploratory, but then you part your lips and San groans into your mouth, deepening the kiss. His hand comes up to cup your face, thumb stroking your cheek as he kisses you like you're something precious.

When he finally pulls back, you're both breathing hard.

"I remember that," San says, voice rough. "I remember kissing you. You taste so good."

Seonghwa hums in agreement. "She does, doesn't she?" His hand is still holding yours, and now he brings it to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. "My turn."

Unlike San's gentle approach, Seonghwa doesn't ask. He simply tilts your face toward him and claims your mouth with a confidence that makes your head spin. The kiss is deeper, more demanding, and you can feel the difference between them immediately. Where San is soft and seeking, Seonghwa is controlled and commanding. He kisses you like he already knows exactly what you like, exactly how to make you melt.

When he pulls back, you're dizzy with it.

"Good," he murmurs against your lips. "So good for us."

San is watching with dark, hungry eyes. "What else?" he asks, and there's an edge of desperation in his voice now. "What else did we do?"

Seonghwa's smile is sharp and knowing. "Why don't you show him?" he says to you. "Remind him what he's forgetting."

You blink at him, confused and flustered. "I - how?"

"Tell him," Seonghwa says simply. "Tell him what he did to you. What we did to you."

Oh god. He's really going to make you say it. Again.

But there's something in his expression that makes you want to please him. Want to be good for him. And maybe it's the way they're both looking at you, maybe it's the lingering confidence from last night, the memory of how wanted you felt.

Whatever it is, you find yourself speaking.

Your voice comes out shaky, and you clear your throat. "You kissed me. Both of you. And then... your hands were everywhere. San, you - you touched me like you couldn't get enough. Like you were trying to memorize every inch."

San's breathing has gone ragged. "Where? Where did I touch you?"

You can feel Seonghwa's approval radiating off him, and it gives you courage.

"Everywhere," you whisper. "My thighs." You break off, embarrassed, but Seonghwa's hand squeezes yours encouragingly. "You touched me until I couldn't think straight."

"And what did I do?" Seonghwa asks, voice low and intimate.

You turn to look at him, and the heat in his eyes nearly undoes you. "You told him what to do. You told both of us."

"I still am," he says quietly, and it's not a boast. It's a simple statement of fact. "And right now, I think San needs a more hands-on reminder. Don't you?"

Your heart is going to explode. "Yes."

"Then show him," Seonghwa instructs. His free hand comes up to cup the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair. "Guide him. Tell him what you want. Help him remember."

This is insane. This is absolutely insane. But you're already turning to San, whose eyes are wide and eager and so full of want it makes you ache.

"Touch me," you say, voice barely audible. "Please."

San doesn't need to be told twice. His hands are on you immediately, but there's a hesitation in his movements. He wants to please, wants to get it right, but he's waiting for direction.

"Like this?" he asks, palms sliding up your sides. "Tell me. Tell me what you want."

"Higher," you breathe, and his hands obey, moving up until they're just below your breasts. You can feel his restraint, the way he's holding himself back.

"Go ahead, San," Seonghwa says from beside you. "She clearly wants you to."

And with that permission, San's hands move, and you gasp at the contact. He makes a low, appreciative sound.

"I remember this," he says, voice rough. "I remember the sounds you made. The way you arched into my touch."

"Keep going," Seonghwa encourages. "You're doing well."

The praise makes San practically glow, and his touches grow more confident. More purposeful. And all the while, Seonghwa is there beside you, one hand still tangled in your hair, the other tracing idle patterns on your thigh. Watching. Directing.

"Kiss her neck," Seonghwa instructs. "She likes that. Don't you, sweetheart?"

You can only nod, because San is already leaning in, lips finding the sensitive spot just below your ear. You make an involuntary sound, and both men react to it immediately.

"There," Seonghwa says with satisfaction. "Right there. Mark her, San. Remind her who made her feel good."

San's mouth moves lower, kissing and sucking at your neck, and you're rapidly losing the ability to think coherently. Your hands come up to grip his shoulders, needing something to anchor yourself to.

"Look at you," Seonghwa murmurs, and when you turn your head toward him, his eyes are so dark they're almost black. "So pretty like this. So responsive." His hand tightens in your hair, tilting your head to give San better access. "Is it coming back to you now, San? Are you remembering?"

"Yes," San gasps against your skin. "Yes, I remember. I remember everything."

"Good," Seonghwa says. "Then you remember what comes next."

The implication in his words makes you shiver, and you feel San smile against your neck.

"Every detail," San confirms, pulling back to look at you. His lips are swollen, his eyes blown wide with desire. "Can we - is it okay if we-"

"Yes," you interrupt, because you can't take the anticipation anymore. "Yes, please."

Seonghwa laughs softly. "So eager. I like that too." He releases his grip on your hair only to frame your face with both hands, forcing you to meet his eyes. "Last chance to change your mind, sweetheart. Once we start, I'm not stopping. Understand?"

The promise in his words makes your core clench. "I understand."

"And you want that?"

"Yes," you breathe. "God, yes."

His smile is devastating. "Then let's make sure San never forgets again."

Seonghwa wasted no time before connecting his lips to yours, one hand brushing down your arm while his other held your jaw in place delicately. San plants open mouthed kisses on the side on your neck and down the back of your shoulders, gripping his hands into the flesh of your waist.

Being trapped between the warmth of Seonghwa in front of you and San behind made you very aware that you were still there, only wearing your underwear. Same goes for them though, it seems it was the most comfortable option for everyone. 

Your hands trailed down to Seonghwa’s boxers, which had an obvious tent forming under the fabric. Just grazing your hand over his clothes hardness was enough for his breathing to become uneven against your lips.

“Mmmm fuck, babygirl” he groaned, making sure you were able to hear. His hand that was holding your jaw was now wrapped around your neck, being used as leverage for him to deepen the kiss.

San’s hands snaked around from your back to your chest, grabbing one of your breasts in each of his hands. Tongue sensually dragging up your spine, leading into a playful bite onto your shoulder. He cupped your tits, movement causing a small jiggle that immediately diverted Seonghwa’s attention to them.

Seonghwa detached from you to line kisses from your cheek, to your jawline, down to your collar bones, then took one of your hardened peeks between his lips. He put enough pressure for you to naturally lean back into San’s chest, where he wrapped you with his muscular arms. 

San brushes your hair behind your ear and whispers “You look so pretty like this.”

The mellow heat from his breath covered every inch of your body in goosebumps. His fingertips directed your face to look at him, making eye contact. His gaze was soft, not demanding, not expecting - just genuine. 

He looked into your eyes, then down to your pink lips. Without a second thought, you pulled him closer, closing the gap. His tongue slid across your bottom lip, asking permission. Your mouth opened slightly, allowing him access. Your hand gripped into just jet black hair as your tongues slowly danced across each other. With your back still leaning against his chest, you could feel his length grow harder, pressing into your lower back with each movement. 

Your other hand was still lazily stroking Seonghwa until he pulled away and traced down to the band of your panties. 

“Can I take these off, doll?” he marveled, his lips coated in saliva from the mess he created on your breasts. The sheer desire evident in the way his eyes met yours compelled you to nod, no verbal response was needed.

Without a second of hesitation, he pulled them off and threw on to the floor off to the side of the bed. Seonghwa's eyes darkened with hunger as he settled between your spread thighs, his hands gripping your hips to pull you closer to the edge of the bed. The cool air kissed your exposed pussy, but the warmth from his breath quickly replaced it, sending a shiver up your spine. You leaned back heavier against San's solid chest, his arms encircling you like a protective cage, his heartbeat thumping steadily against your back.

“Wow, feel how wet she is, Sannie,” he teased while brushing his fingers across your slick folds. He circled your entrance while searching your face for a reaction.

San slipped his fingers between your thighs, met with the same wetness that Seonghwa just described. “So wet,” he confirmed.

Seonghwa's fingers pushed deeper, parting your slick folds with deliberate strokes that made your hips buck involuntarily. He pressed one finger inside you, then two, curling them against that sensitive spot that drew a gasp from your lips. The stretch was exquisite, his movements slow at first, building the pressure as he watched your face contort with pleasure. “That's it, doll,” he murmured, his voice husky with dominance.

San circled your clit with his middle finger in firm, teasing circles. Each rotation sent sparks racing through your core, your walls clenching around Seonghwa’s fingers as wetness coated both of their hands.

San's breath hitched against your ear, his other hand roaming from your breasts down to your stomach, holding you steady as Seonghwa worked you open. He nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his lips brushing soft kisses along your skin while his cock throbbed harder against your back, the fabric of his boxers doing little to hide his arousal. “You're doing so well for us,” he whispered tenderly, his playful tone laced with genuine affection. 

The dual sensation was overwhelming - the dominant push of Seonghwa's fingers fucking into you steadily, and San's tender exploration, his touch light but insistent, like he was savoring every twitch of your body. Your head fell back against San's shoulder, exposing more of your neck for him to claim with open-mouthed kisses, his teeth grazing just enough to leave faint marks. The emotional pull tugged at your chest. Seonghwa's intense gaze locked on yours, full of possessive hunger, while San's soft eyes met yours whenever you turned, whispering encouragements that made your heart swell amid the building ecstasy.

San removed his finger from your clit and brought it up to his mouth. His tongue weaved around to gather all of your sweet arousal, licking it clean. “You taste so good, baby,” his praise  only sent your head more into a daze.

Seonghwa leaned in, his tongue flicking out to lap at your clit before sucking it between his lips. The wet heat of his mouth combined with the scissoring of his fingers inside you, stretching and filling you, had moans spilling from your throat unchecked. San's free hand cupped your breast again, pinching the nipple between his fingers in rhythm with Seonghwa's sucks, the coordinated assault making your thighs tremble. “Feel that, babygirl?” Seonghwa growled against your pussy, the vibrations humming through you. “We're both here, taking care of you.”

Your head fell back against San's shoulder, and you turned your face toward him, seeking his mouth. His lips met yours eagerly, soft and inviting, his tongue slipping past your parted lips to tangle with yours. The kiss started slow, mirroring the lazy swirl of Seonghwa's tongue circling your clit, but as Seonghwa's mouth worked faster - lapping at your pussy with quick, insistent licks - your moans broke the rhythm. A deep, throaty sound vibrated from your chest into San's mouth, making him pull back slightly with a low chuckle.

San's length pressed insistently now, grinding subtly against your ass as he shifted, his own need evident in the way his breaths came ragged. He captured your lips in a deep kiss, tongues tangling with a playful swipe that turned passionate, swallowing your whimpers as Seonghwa's pace quickened, fingers plunging deeper, faster, chasing your release.

"Shh, baby," San murmured against your lips, nipping at your bottom one before diving back in. But another wave hit you as Seonghwa's tongue plunged inside your entrance, fucking into you with shallow thrusts. Your body arched, pussy clenching around the intrusion, and a whimper tore from your throat, scattering your focus. You chased San's lips again, but the kiss turned messy, interrupted by your ragged breaths and the slick sounds of Seonghwa devouring you.

You tried to pour yourself into the kiss with San, your hand fisting in his hair to hold him close, but a particularly deep thrust of Seonghwa's fingers ripped a loud moan from you. Your lips parted from San's with a wet pop, your head tilting back as pleasure coiled tighter in your belly. 

"Fuck, you taste so good," Seonghwa growled against your folds, his voice muffled as he sucked your clit between his lips again. His fingers scissored inside you, stretching you open, the squelching sounds of your arousal filling the room. Your thighs trembled, clamping around his head, but he held them firm, not letting you escape the onslaught. Another moan bubbled up, high and desperate, breaking your attempt to reconnect with San's mouth - your body too lost in the waves crashing through you to manage more than a brush of lips and frantic breaths.

Without any time to think, your orgasm crashes over your entire body, making your thighs tighten harder around Seonghwa’s head. This doesn’t stop him. His tongue continues to violently lap your clit as you ride out your high.

“Just like that,” San whispers against the nape of your neck with a smile. “Cum on his tongue, darling.”

Seonghwa lets out a groan of satisfaction as he slides his tongue between your folds, devouring all of your sweet nectar. In a swift motion, he gets up from the edge of the bed and pushes San’s chest, making him land back down against the mattress. 

“Go on, ride him” he lightly slaps your cheek, aiming your face to focus on San’s length. 

Hesitantly, you hook your fingers into the band of San’s boxers, slowly pulling them down his legs.

“C’mon, don't act like you don't want it.” Seonghwa hissed.

You tossed San’s boxer off to the bed and swung your leg over his torso, straddling him. “Fuck,” He whispered under his breath in awe. 

Sliding his tip against your wetness, you align him with your entrance. You sink down onto his length, a desperate moan escaping both of you. Once he bottoms out, you give yourself a second to adjust to his girth, slightly wincing at the fullness. 

San senses your uncomfortability, but assures you that they are going at your pace. “Take your time, doll. I won't move until you say so.”

You grip your nails into his shoulders. “I’m ready.”

He starts to move his hips slowly, trying to get a feel of your reaction, but your signals are good, pushing him to move a little bit faster. His hands gripped into your back, pulling you down to meet his lips with a kiss. 

Seonghwa rids himself of his boxers and climbs up behind you, lining himself up with your entrance. With no warning, as San pulls himself out, Seonghwa pushes himself in, making you stuffed full every time.

Seonghwa's fingers dig into your hips, holding you steady as he drives into your pussy with deliberate, powerful strokes. The fullness from both of them - San buried deep alongside him in a shared rhythm, their cocks alternating thrusts - makes every movement send shockwaves through your body. You rock between them, caught in their rhythm, your arms trembling as you brace yourself on San's chest. His eyes lock onto yours, dark with lust and a hint of surrender, his lips parted as he pants with each upward push.

“Fuck, she's so tight,” San groans, his voice breaking as he grinds up into you, the head of his dick pressing against that sensitive spot inside. Seonghwa chuckles darkly from behind, his hand coming down in a sharp smack on your thigh, the sting blooming into heat that makes you clench around them both. 'She is. And she's taking us so well. Aren't you, darling? Tell San how much you love being filled like this.'

Your words come out in a whimper, fragmented by the relentless pounding. “I love it... please, don't stop…” San's hands slide up to your breasts, squeezing them roughly, thumbs rolling over your nipples until they're aching peaks. He leans up, capturing one in his mouth, teeth grazing the sensitive flesh as he sucks hard. The dual sensations - Seonghwa's cock stretching your pussy, San's filling you in tandem - push you closer to the brink, your clit throbbing with neglected need.

Seonghwa notices, of course. He always does. His hand snakes around your waist, fingers finding your swollen clit and pinching it lightly, just enough to make you cry out. “You want to come? Beg properly.” He slows his thrusts, dragging out each one torturously, making you feel every inch as he withdraws almost completely before slamming back in. San matches him, holding still inside you, his cock pulsing but unmoving, teasing you with the promise of friction.

“Please,” you gasp, pushing back against Seonghwa, trying to chase the pleasure. “I need it... I need to come on your cocks.” San moans at your words as he looks to Seonghwa for permission, his hips twitching with restraint. Seonghwa's grip tightens, his breath hot against your ear. “Good girl. But not yet. San, make her earn it.”

San nods eagerly, his hands guiding your hips as he starts thrusting up again, faster now, his cock pistoning into your slick heat. You ride him instinctively, your pussy clenching around his thickness, juices dripping down to where Seonghwa's shaft slides in and out. Seonghwa resumes his pace, harder this time, their balls slapping against you with each deep plunge. The room fills with the wet sounds of skin meeting skin, your moans mingling with their grunts.

San's mouth returns to your breast, licking and biting, while his free hand reaches between you to rub your clit in frantic circles. The pressure builds unbearably, your body shaking as they fuck you in tandem, cocks rubbing against each other through your walls. Seonghwa leans forward, his chest pressing against your back, one hand wrapping around your throat,not squeezing, just holding, a reminder of his control. “Feel that? How we own this body” he whispers, his voice rough. “You're ours to use.”

You nod frantically, tears of overwhelming pleasure streaking your cheeks. San's thrusts grow erratic, his switch nature flipping as he takes more initiative, bucking up to meet you with force that makes your toes curl. “She’s squeezing me so hard,” he pants to Seonghwa, seeking approval. Seonghwa rewards him with a low growl, speeding up his own rhythm, the three of you moving as one slick, heated unit.

But just as the coil in your belly tightens to the breaking point, Seonghwa pulls your hair back sharply, exposing your neck. He bites down, not breaking skin but marking you, and slows again. 'Hold it back,' he commands, his fingers stilling on your throat. San whimpers in frustration but obeys, his cock twitching inside you as he fights his own release. They both still, buried to the hilt, letting the tension simmer, your body quivering around them.

Seonghwa eases out slowly, the drag making you whine at the loss. “On your back again,” he orders, flipping you off San with ease. You land sprawled on the sheets, legs splayed, pussy gaping slightly from their use. San kneels between your thighs immediately, his cock hard and leaking, but he waits, eyes on Seonghwa. “Lick her clean first,” Seonghwa says, stroking himself lazily as he watches.

San dives in without hesitation, his tongue lapping at your folds, tasting the mix of your arousal and their pre-cum. He sucks your clit into his mouth, humming vibrations against it, while his fingers, two, then three, push into your pussy, curling to stroke your inner walls. You arch off the bed, hands fisting the sheets, but Seonghwa climbs over you, straddling your chest. His knees pin your arms, and he guides his cock to your mouth. 'Suck. Show me how grateful you are.'

You open wide, tongue extending to take him in, swirling around the head before he pushes forward. He fucks your mouth with controlled thrusts, not too deep this time, letting you work him with lips and tongue. Below, San's mouth devours you, his fingers pumping steadily, thumb pressing your clit. The contrast - San's eager service and Seonghwa's dominant use - has you moaning around the cock in your throat, the vibrations making Seonghwa hiss.

“That's it, baby. Worship it.” Seonghwa's hand tangles in your hair, holding you steady as he rocks deeper. San adds a twist, his tongue dipping to circle your entrance around his fingers, then flicking back to your clit. Your hips buck, chasing the building orgasm, but Seonghwa pulls out abruptly, a string of spit connecting you. “San, up. I want her riding you while I take her throat.”

They maneuver you quickly, San lying back, pulling you on top of him. You straddle his hips, sinking down onto his cock with a shared groan. He fills you perfectly, thick and hard, and you start rolling your hips, grinding down to feel him everywhere. Seonghwa kneels in front of you, his hand on your head guiding you forward. You lean in, taking him into your mouth again, bobbing as you ride San.

San's hands grip your thighs, spreading them as he thrusts up, meeting your downward movements. “Fuck, yes... just like that,” he murmurs, his voice laced with submission even as he takes what he needs. Seonghwa matches your pace, fucking your face with shallow thrusts, his free hand reaching down to tweak your nipple. The angle lets San's cock hit deep, brushing your g-spot with every grind, while your mouth works Seonghwa's length, tasting the salt of his skin.

Sweat beads on your skin, the air thick with the scent of sex. Seonghwa's control wavers slightly, his breaths coming faster, but he reins it in, pulling back to let you gasp. “Switch,” he says suddenly, voice commanding. San lifts you off him with a pop, and they trade places, Seonghwa on his back now, pulling you down onto his cock. You moan as he stretches your pussy, different from San's thickness, longer and hitting deeper.

San stands at the edge of the bed, his dick in hand, waiting. Seonghwa nods, and San steps forward, feeding his cock into your mouth from this new angle. You suck greedily, hollowing your cheeks as you bounce on Seonghwa, his hands on your hips dictating the speed - hard and fast, making your breasts jiggle. San's hand cups the back of your head gently, thrusting in time with Seonghwa's upward bucks.

“Look at her, taking us both like a slut,” Seonghwa growls, spanking your ass lightly. San moans agreement, his thrusts picking up, more dominant now under Seonghwa's influence. Your body sings with the overload, pussy clenching around Seonghwa as San's cock slides over your tongue. The edge approaches again, hot and insistent, but Seonghwa senses it, slowing your hips with a firm grip.

Seonghwa's eyes gleam with intent as he holds your hips still, his cock throbbing deep inside your pussy. The pause stretches, your body humming with denied release, every nerve ending alight from their teasing. “Let her have it,” Seonghwa murmurs, his voice low and commanding.

Seonghwa picks up speed, his hips snapping forward, balls slapping against your skin with each plunge. The fullness returns in waves, your pussy clenching greedily as he angles to hit that spot inside you over and over. “That's it, take every inch,” he growls, one hand sliding up your back to press you down, arching your spine. 

The dual invasion overwhelms you, Seonghwa's cock stretching your pussy wide, pounding relentlessly, while San's slides past your lips, the head bumping the back of your throat. Saliva drips down your chin as you suck harder, hollowing your cheeks to please him. San's breaths come in ragged pants, his eyes half-lidded with pleasure. 'Fuck, your mouth feels amazing,' he whispers, his thumb brushing your stretched lips.

Seonghwa's pace turns brutal, his grip bruising your hips as he chases his release. You feel him swell inside you, the veins pulsing against your sensitive walls. “Gonna fill this pussy up,” he announces, voice strained. His thrusts grow erratic, shorter and harder, grinding deep with each one. Your own climax builds again, coiling tight in your core, spurred by the friction and the way San's cock twitches on your tongue.

San's hand tightens in your hair, not pulling but guiding, as he fucks your mouth faster. “Swallow it all,” he commands. You nod as best you can, eyes watering from the depth, but you take him eagerly, tongue pressing flat against the underside of his shaft. Seonghwa reaches around suddenly, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing firm circles, the added stimulation shattering your control.

“Come with me,” Seonghwa orders, and that's all it takes. Your pussy spasms around his cock, waves of orgasm crashing through you as you cry out around San's length. Seonghwa groans loudly, burying himself to the hilt and holding there, his cock pulsing as hot cum floods your pussy. Spurt after spurt fills you, the warmth spreading deep inside, mixing with your own juices and leaking out around where he's still embedded.

The sensation tips San over the edge. He thrusts once more, deep into your throat, and cums with a muffled shout. Thick ropes of semen coat your tongue and slide down your throat as you swallow reflexively, milking him with your mouth. Some dribbles from the corners of your lips, but you take most of it, the salty taste lingering as he pulls back slowly, stroking himself to empty the last drops onto your tongue.

Seonghwa stays inside you a moment longer, rocking gently to ride out the aftershocks, his cum plugging your pussy before he finally withdraws with a wet sound. A trickle of his seed escapes, running down your thigh, but he doesn't let you move yet. “Stay put,” he says, voice softening just a fraction. San collapses beside you, chest heaving, but he reaches out immediately, wiping the cum from your chin with his thumb and pushing it back into your mouth. “Good girl, you took it all so well.”

They shift around you, Seonghwa easing you onto your back fully now, legs spread as he kneels between them. His hands are gentle this time, massaging your thighs where his grip left faint marks. “Look at you, all spent and beautiful,” he praises, leaning down to kiss your inner thigh, tasting the mix of fluids there. San props himself on an elbow, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your stomach, dipping lower to spread Seonghwa's cum around your folds without pushing back in.

San murmurs, his voice tender, the submissive in him surfacing fully now that the intensity has peaked. He leans in, pressing soft kisses to your collarbone, then your neck, avoiding the earlier bite marks with care. “You were perfect. So responsive, so eager to please us.” You shiver under their touches, the praise warming you from the inside out, chasing away the lingering ache.

Seonghwa nods in agreement, grabbing a soft cloth from the bedside, always prepared, and cleaning you gently, starting with your face, then your chest, and finally between your legs. He wipes away the excess cum, his movements unhurried, almost reverent. “You handled us like a dream,” he says, his dominant tone laced with affection. “That pussy milked me dry. I'm proud of you for holding out until I said so.” He discards the cloth and pulls you into his arms, cradling your head against his chest.

San joins in, wrapping around your other side, his leg draping over yours. His hand finds yours, intertwining fingers as he nuzzles your hair. “I loved how you sucked me off, swallowing every drop without hesitation. You're our good little slut.” He kisses your temple, his breath warm against your skin. The three of you lie tangled like that, bodies cooling in the aftermath, the room still heavy with the scent of sex but now mingled with something softer.

Seonghwa's fingers comb through your hair, untangling the knots from their earlier grips. “Hydrate,” he instructs quietly, reaching for a water bottle on the nightstand and holding it to your lips. You sip gratefully, the cool liquid soothing your parched throat. San takes a turn next, helping you drink more before setting it aside. “We'll get you something to eat soon,” he promises, his hand rubbing slow circles on your back. “You burned a lot of energy for us.”

As your breathing evens out, Seonghwa tilts your chin up, capturing your lips in a deep, lingering kiss - not demanding, but appreciative. His tongue explores gently, tasting the remnants of San on you, and he hums in approval. “Mine,” he whispers against your mouth, then pulls back with a small smile. “Ours.” San chuckles softly, pressing his own kiss to your shoulder. “Yeah, ours. And we take care of what's ours.”

“Tell us if you need anything,” San adds, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort. “A bath? More water? Just rest?” You shake your head, content in their embrace, the praise wrapping around you like a blanket. “You both make me feel so safe,” you murmur, voice hoarse but happy. Seonghwa's chest rumbles with a pleased sound, pulling the covers over you all. “That's what we want. Now go back to sleep, pet. You've earned it.”

San dims the lights with a remote, the room falling into a cozy glow. They sandwich you between them, Seonghwa's arm over your waist, San's head on your pillow, his fingers laced with yours. Whispers of 'beautiful' and 'perfect' float in the air as drowsiness claims you, the aftercare sealing the night's intensity with warmth and care.

But even in the quiet, their touches linger - Seonghwa's hand stroking your side, San's leg hooked over yours beyond the passion. You drift off feeling cherished.

You, walking two steps ahead with Wooyoung, laughing at something crude he’d just said. Your gloved fingers wrapped around a paper coffee cup. Your cheeks flushed from the temperature and the bite of wind that occasionally caught your scarf. You glanced back once, just briefly, eyes brushing past Seonghwa’s, enough to send a flutter down the center of his chest before you looked away again.

He hated how that still affected him. You were Hongjoong’s stepsister. Still technically off limits in every way that mattered. But that hadn’t stopped him from writing a song about you. A song no one knew the truth about. Not even Hongjoong.

“Hyung,” Wooyoung called over his shoulder, “I swear the tofu cart’s still up ahead. Don’t tell me they packed up before ten?”

“They wouldn’t,” you said confidently, picking up your pace a little. “Not on a Friday.”

Seonghwa didn’t answer. He was too busy watching the sway of your jacket, the way the hem of your skirt peeked out beneath it, black, pleated, short. Paired with thick tights and laced up boots. Casual. Effortless. Dangerous.

He looked away, jaw flexing as he blinked into the damp haze curling around street lamps. The only reason you were even here with them was because the rest of the stylists had taken the night off, and your brother had warned you not to go out alone in a new city. Wooyoung insisted you tag along. Their manager, too tired to argue, agreed.

And Seonghwa… didn’t say a word. Of course he didn’t. He never did. You’d been driving him insane for years now, ever since you showed up backstage with Joong at your first year of university, all sharp wit and smudged eyeliner, teasing Seonghwa like you didn’t know how good you looked doing it.

Now? You were twenty four. Confident. Comfortable. And close. Too close.

“I’m starving,” Wooyoung groaned as he spotted the glowing food stall up ahead. “Hwa, you want your usual?”

Seonghwa nodded without thinking as you turned toward him again, that same little glint in your eye. “You always get the same thing.”

“It’s good,” he said simply.

You hummed like you didn’t believe him. “You’re just picky.”

“I’m careful,” he replied, gaze flicking over you. “There’s a difference.”

You held his stare a second longer than necessary. “Mm. Whatever helps you sleep.”

He didn’t sleep. Not well. Not lately. Not since hearing his own voice echo through the studio monitors, whispering confessions wrapped in velvet and bass lines.

“Grab us a table,” the manager muttered, already pulling his wallet free as he veered toward the stall. “I’ll order.” Wooyoung beelined for a nearby bench, dragging you along with him as if you didn’t weigh a thing, leaving Seonghwa trailing behind.

He didn’t mind. It gave him a moment to watch you sit, legs crossing, hands cupped around the warm coffee you hadn’t let go of since the hotel lobby. You looked relaxed. Happy. Unaware.

Seonghwa’s throat tightened. He thought about the lyrics again. The demo version only the producers had heard. The bridge he’d rewritten three times until it sounded like the way your laugh made him ache.

He approached slowly, hands in his pockets, and you tilted your head up at him as he came near. “You ever finish that song? I forgot all about it.” you asked, steam curling off your coffee but something in your eyes held reading. “The one you said was missing something?”

He blinked. “What?”

You looked up at him. “You said it was missing something. In Tokyo. Back in spring.”

Seonghwa nodded slowly. “Yeah. That one made the album.”

“Oh?” You tilted your head. “Which track?”

He hesitated. “Skin.”

You blinked, brows lifting just slightly. Then you smiled, full teasing, like you weren’t holding a knife to his chest. “I love that one,” you said. “It’s so different from your usual. Sexy, but still kinda sad.”

Wooyoung made a gagging sound. “Sexy? Ew. Can we not?” You nudged him with your boot under the table, laughing as you took another sip of your drink. “I didn’t say he was sexy, I said the song was.”

Seonghwa said nothing. Because you’d heard it. You’d listened. Maybe even replayed it. Maybe even sang along to the lines he wrote at two in the morning thinking about your mouth. And still you didn’t know. That might’ve hurt more than if you had.

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

Backstage was chaos. Not the frantic, screaming chaos of a crowd, this was quieter, more calculated. Controlled noise. Steady pulses of bass from soundcheck, clipped instructions through earpieces, the hydraulic hiss of water cannons being tested onstage. The scent of waterproof hairspray, sweat, fabric steamer bursts, and adrenaline.

Seonghwa sat in front of the mirror, hands braced on his knees, watching his own reflection like it might betray him. But it wasn’t his reflection that had him on edge. It was you, behind him, one hand bracing the top of his head while the other smoothed product into his freshly dried hair. You moved with quiet efficiency, lips pursed in focus, brows knitted as you made sure every strand fell into perfect shape.

You’d been assigned to him for the day. Just like that. No warning. No mercy. “Look down a little,” you murmured, voice soft but clear.

He obeyed, letting his chin dip, and you adjusted your angle, fingers brushing against the back of his neck as you reached for the collar of his top, that top. The white zip up sleeveless one they’d chosen specifically for Waterbomb. Tight. Thin. Practically painted on.

You hadn’t said anything when you saw it on him. But your hands lingered longer than they should have. “Do you want the strands left down at the front?” you asked, combing near his temples now. “Or slicked all the way back?”

“Down,” he said without thinking, his voice lower than he meant it to be. You nodded, stepping a little closer, and Seonghwa could feel your body just behind him. The warmth of your torso. The soft flutter of your breath. The scent of your perfume mixing with the misted air from the water machines and the faint citrus of his setting spray.

He didn’t move. Couldn’t. Because if he shifted even an inch, he might do something stupid. Like turn around. Like grab your wrist. Like finally say what he’s been burying for years.

You adjusted the collar of his top next, zipping it slowly up toward the base of his throat. The fabric dragged against his chest, still damp from the trial spray they’d done during the first rehearsal. “Make sure you keep your gloves on this time,” you said quietly. “Your hands were torn up after the Seoul show.”

“I remember,” he replied as you smiled faintly and brushed a bit of shimmer over his cheekbone, the soft pad of your thumb smudging it in.

He should’ve pulled away. But he didn’t. Because your hand stayed on his face for a moment too long. Your thumb rested against his cheekbone like it belonged there. Like you knew exactly what you were doing. Like maybe, just maybe, you felt it too.

“Seonghwa,” you said after a pause, your tone more hesitant now. “I meant to say something, by the way.” He turned his head just slightly, eyes finding yours in the mirror. You looked nervous. Unsure. Your hands dropped to your sides.

“I… I didn’t know Skin was yours when I first heard it,” you admitted, your voice soft and serious now. “I didn’t pay attention to the credits at first. But when I did…. I realized. It sounded… different.”

He stared at you. His heart starting to pound as you took a breath. “It didn’t sound like the version of you everyone else sees. It felt private. Raw. Kind of painful. I just… wanted to say it’s beautiful.”

Something cracked in his chest. He opened his mouth to respond, anything, but the door slammed open behind you, and Wooyoung’s voice cut through.

“Seonghwa, hyung! They need us at staging, now!”

You blinked, stepping back like nothing had just passed between you. “Go,” you said, clearing your throat. “You look good.”

He stood slowly, grabbing his gloves and goggles. And as he passed you in the doorway, his shoulder brushed yours, just slightly, just enough, and you turned your head at the same time he did, both of you close enough to breathe the same breath.

Neither of you said a word. But something had shifted. And it wasn’t going back.

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

The restaurant was quiet, low lighting, warm wood panels, and the soft clatter of chopsticks over jazz playing from overhead speakers. It was the kind of place Seonghwa usually liked. Peaceful. Unpretentious. Clean.

But tonight, his appetite was gone.

He poked absently at the grilled fish in front of him, nodding at whatever Hongjoong was saying and taking slow sips of barley tea to keep from fidgeting.

It had been a week since Macao. A week since the moment backstage. Since your thumb smoothed shimmer across his cheekbone and you said Skin was beautiful. Since the look in your eyes said you knew, maybe not everything, but enough.

He hadn’t seen you since the flight back. You’d been reassigned to different styling tasks at KQ, mostly administrative prep work while Xikers finished their comeback schedules. He knew that because he asked. Quietly. Casually. Like it didn’t matter.

It mattered.

Across from him, Hongjoong picked a bone from his mackerel and dropped it into a side dish. “You’ve been quieter lately.”

“Just tired,” Seonghwa murmured, forcing a smile. “Still coming down from tour mode.”

“Mm,” Joong hummed, glancing at him, but thankfully didn’t press. Instead, he leaned back in the booth and stretched his shoulders a little, letting out a sigh. “Honestly, I’m just glad Y/N’s staying in Korea for good.”

Seonghwa blinked. “She’s… not going back?”

“Nope,” Joong said, popping a piece of radish into his mouth. “Signed the full time contract with KQ last week. She told me at dinner with our parents on Sunday.”

Seonghwa’s chopsticks froze halfway to his plate. “She didn’t say anything.” he said carefully.

“Yeah, I figured she was waiting to surprise the rest of you,” Hongjoong said, laughing. “She’s still dramatic as hell. But I’m glad. It’s been hard not seeing her more than a few times a year.”

Seonghwa nodded, throat tight. He hadn’t known you were staying. He hadn’t known you broke your lease in Tokyo, or turned down that international campaign styling job you’d mentioned in passing during rehearsals. He hadn’t even known you were having dinner with Joong and your family.

But worst of all? He hadn’t known you were single.

“Honestly,” Hongjoong went on, mouth full now, “I’m glad she broke up with that guy too. What was his name again? Something Western. Drew? Dean?”

“Dylan,” Seonghwa said automatically, before he could stop himself.

Hongjoong pointed at him with his chopsticks. “Yeah. Him. No idea what she saw in that dude. I met him once and immediately hoped they’d break up.”

Seonghwa gave a small smile, jaw clenched. He remembered Dylan. Too loud. Too confident. Always pulling you close in front of the staff, whispering in your ear while Seonghwa stood two meters away pretending not to notice.

He never said a word about it. Never asked. Never stepped out of line. But now? Now he couldn’t stop thinking about you backstage with your hand on his face.

“She deserves better,” Hongjoong said casually, sipping his drink. “Someone who doesn’t treat her like she’s a second thought.”

Seonghwa’s pulse thudded in his throat. “Yeah,” he said quietly, eyes fixed on his untouched bowl of rice. “She does.”

And if Hongjoong noticed the way Seonghwa’s voice went soft, if he saw the twitch in his knuckles or the flicker of guilt in his eyes, he didn’t say a thing.

But something lingered between them anyway. Something sharp. Unspoken. Like a wire pulled tight.

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

Seonghwa sat in front of the mirror in the hotel suite, breathing steadily through his nose while you adjusted his choker.

He couldn’t look at you. Not directly. Not while your fingers were grazing the edge of his jaw, not while your breath fanned over his collarbone as you reached to fasten the last clasp behind his neck. You were too close. Too careful. Too focused.

You always got quiet when you styled him. Like he might disappear if you blinked. “Hold still,” you murmured, tugging the fabric of his jacket into place. “One of the spikes on your shoulder is twisted.”

He didn’t respond. Because you were in black tonight. Tailored pants and a cropped corset style vest that showed the line of your collarbones and the slope of your neck. A headset rested behind your ear. Your ID badge clipped to your belt. And yet somehow, in the middle of an awards show, you were the one making him feel like a walking fantasy.

“Let me fix the smudge on your liner,” you added softly, stepping closer. Your fingers cradled his chin gently, tilting his head up toward you. Seonghwa could feel his pulse everywhere, thudding in his throat, in his wrists, in his chest like it wanted to escape. He let his eyes meet yours just for a second.

Big mistake. You were too close. Your lashes fluttering slightly as you focused on the edge of his eye. Your lips parted. Your breath warm and sweet. He caught a faint whiff of your perfume, vanilla and something darker beneath it, maybe musk, maybe ruin.

“There,” you whispered, stepping back with a small nod. “Perfect.”

Not helping.

Seonghwa swallowed hard, shifting in his seat. “You didn’t have to do all this yourself.”

You shrugged, reaching for the garment rack behind you. “You know I always claim you before red carpets. You’re my masterpiece.”

Masterpiece.

He didn’t say it, but god, if you only knew what that word did to him as you handed him his gloves next, watching as he slipped them on, the leather stretching tight across his fingers. He flexed his hands once. Twice. You watched all of it. Quiet. Intent. He could feel the heat of your gaze tracing every line of him.

He finally stood. And it was your turn to hesitate. The outfit, already breathtaking under the lights, took on a different life when Seonghwa moved. The suit was tailored to every inch of his frame, hugging his waist, falling sharp down his thighs. The low neckline teased the cross pendant chain resting against his collarbone, and his blazer glimmered just slightly as he adjusted it.

Your lips parted. “Seonghwa…”

He looked at you fully now but you didn’t finish the sentence. Because there was nothing else to say. You’d just spent the last thirty minutes putting him together, piece by piece, and now you were the one struggling to breathe.

“I’ll see you after the carpet,” he said lowly, voice like velvet wrapped around steel.

You blinked, stepping aside slowly to let him pass, your gaze trailing after him as he reached for the door.

But just before he stepped through, he paused. Turned back. Held your eyes for one long, devastating moment. “Thanks for making me look like sin,” he murmured. “I hope you know you’re the only one I’d let touch me like that.”

And then he was gone.

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

You stood just offstage in the dark, headset muffled around your neck, clipboard loose in one hand and your eyes locked on him. Seonghwa. Moving like water and fire and everything holy gone wicked.

His hair was damp now, the performance sweat clinging to his jaw, his neck, his collarbone, glistening like he’d been carved out of something too dangerous to worship, but impossible not to.

“Thanks for making me look like sin…”

Your breath caught, chest rising slower than it should. That voice. The way he’d said it, low, velvet, a little amused but not joking. Not even close. The way he’d looked at you right before walking out, like he meant it. Like he was waiting for you to finally get it.

You hadn’t stopped thinking about it since he left the suite. Not when you were checking wardrobe lines. Not when you were mic testing Yunho or adjusting Wooyoung’s chain placement. Not when you were kneeling in the hallway backstage, re velcroing a busted heel for one of the backup dancers.

Your mind kept circling back to him.

To the way he sat so still while you layered silver across his throat like it belonged there. To how quiet he’d gotten under your hands. To the shift in the air when he whispered those words.

“You’re the only one I’d let touch me like that.”

That line had scorched through your ribs and made a home somewhere between your pulse and your sanity.

You knew Seonghwa was careful with his words. You also knew he was never careless with you.

You clenched your jaw as someone nudged your arm. It was one of the stylists from another team. “You good? You look like you’re gonna pass out.”

“I’m fine,” you said too quickly, forcing a small smile. “Just… watching them.”

But your voice was dry. Because you weren’t just watching ATEEZ. You were watching him.

And your heartbeat didn’t settle again until the final note dropped and the lights went out. But even then, especially then, you still heard his voice.

“Sin.”

And for the first time in your life, you wanted to fall to your knees and thank him for saying it like that.

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

The rooftop buzzed with a champagne drunk kind of energy, the kind that settled in your bones after months of rehearsals, fittings, nerves, and not enough sleep. Fairy lights were strung along the railing, music pulsed low from hidden speakers, and a cluster of heaters made the November air feel like summer.

You stood off to the side near one of the heat lamps, sipping something sparkling and pink out of a slim flute, trying your best to look casual.

But your eyes?

They hadn’t left him all night.

Seonghwa was standing across the patio, surrounded by a loose ring of stylists and choreographers, still in the undone version of his KGMA look, jacket draped over one shoulder, shirt open at the collar, choker still in place like a challenge. His hair was slightly messy now, strands sticking to his temples, and he was laughing at something Wooyoung said, head tipping back just slightly.

You were supposed to be mingling with your team. Staff. Safe territory. But all you could do was watch.

“You’ve been staring at him for ten minutes.”

The voice came from your left. You blinked, turning your head slowly to find Hongjoong standing there with a drink in hand, one eyebrow raised.

You tried. You really tried to play it cool. “Who?”

Joong snorted. “Come on.”

You opened your mouth again, but he cut you off. “You think I haven’t noticed?” he said, stepping closer. “All these last few years… the way you two look at each other when you think the other isn’t watching?”

Your stomach flipped. “Joong…”

“Don’t bother denying it,” he added, not unkind, just blunt. “I’m your brother, not an idiot.”

You looked down at your drink. The bubbles didn’t help. Nothing fizzy was strong enough to cut through the way your pulse was climbing.

He let the silence settle for a beat before continuing. “I used to think it was just you,” he said quietly. “Back when you were still in Tokyo, calling me during rehearsals to ask about everyone and then steering the conversation toward Seonghwa. Or when you’d come back on break and just happen to be around whenever he was visiting.”

You winced.

“But then,” Joong went on, “I started catching him.”

You looked up.

“After your fittings,” he said. “The way he stared at the door after you left. Or how he’d remember your schedule better than your own supervisor did. The way he got quiet when someone mentioned you had a boyfriend.”

Your breath caught.

“He’s careful,” Joong added, voice lower now. “But not invisible.”

You swallowed, throat tight. “You’re mad.”

He scoffed. “I’m not mad.”

You blinked. “You’re… not?”

Joong shrugged, gaze flicking back across the rooftop toward Seonghwa, who was now stepping away from the group, headed somewhere, probably the bar.

“I trust him,” your brother said simply. “He’s never once given me a reason not to. Which is why I never said anything.”

You blinked again, heart thudding so hard it felt like your necklace might rattle.

“But,” Joong added, locking eyes with you again, “if he hurts you, I will end him. Slowly.”

You smiled despite yourself, breath shaking as you let out a quiet laugh.

“I mean it,” he said, raising his glass.

You clinked your own gently against his. “I know.”

Across the rooftop, Seonghwa looked up. Eyes finding yours. And this time? You didn’t look away.

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The elevator dinged softly as the last of them spilled into the hallway, some in half unzipped jackets, some still laughing, shoes in hand, voices low from fatigue and leftover adrenaline.

“Bathroom is mine,” Wooyoung snapped immediately, bolting for the apartment door like his life depended on it.

“You showered first last time,” Jongho shot back, shouldering past you with a frown. “Your glitter’s still in the drain.”

“She put the glitter there!” Wooyoung yelled, pointing back at you dramatically before disappearing into the apartment.

You just laughed, turning slightly as Yunho and Yeosang gave quick waves, already trudging toward the stairs that led to their floor above.

“We’ll grab food tomorrow,” Yeosang called, already half asleep.

“Don’t wake me until noon,” Yunho added.

Then it was just the four of you left in the hallway.

You. San. Mingi. Seonghwa.

San stretched with a groan, hoodie already pulled up over his head. “I’m gonna pass out in my shoes.”

Mingi yawned, rubbing at his neck. “Same. Tell me if we won anything else while I’m unconscious.”

You watched as they both turned toward the staircase leading one floor up, same direction as Seonghwa, but neither looked back.

“Night,” Mingi mumbled.

And then it was just you and him.

Seonghwa lingered at the edge of the hallway, one hand still in his coat pocket, the other curling loosely around his phone. He wasn’t looking at you directly, not at first, but you felt the weight of his presence all the same.

The silence settled between you like the smoke from a blown out candle. Quiet. Lingering. Smoldering.

You weren’t even sure why you hadn’t gone inside yet. You just… hadn’t.

He shifted then, finally glancing your way, voice soft but unmissable. “I need to grab my AirPods from Joong’s room,” he said, like it was a perfectly normal excuse. “Before he looses mine too.”

Your brows lifted slightly. “You’re going into Joong’s room?”

Seonghwa shrugged, stepping closer, his tone featherlight. “You gonna stop me?”

You didn’t move. Didn’t answer. And something flickered behind his eyes then, something less playful.

Seonghwa took another step, slow, like he was approaching something that might run. “You coming?” he asked.

Not quite a question. Not really. And god help you, you followed.

The apartment lights were low and warm, only the kitchen lamp left on, casting golden stripes across the hardwood floor. Someone had left the window cracked, and the faintest chill crept in, brushing across your arms as you closed the front door behind you.

Inside, chaos was still alive and well.

“I swear to god, Jongho!” Wooyoung’s voice echoed down the hall. “Your skincare routine doesn’t take that long unless you’re exfoliating with the tears of your enemies!”

The sound of the shower running was his only answer.

“I will pick the lock!”

“You won’t,” Jongho called back, annoyingly calm.

Wooyoung let out an exasperated groan before stomping down the hall to his bedroom and slamming the door behind him, hard enough to make one of the picture frames rattle on the wall.

Seonghwa had already stepped past the commotion, slipping silently into Hongjoong’s room like he’d done it a hundred times before. The door was still half open, the lamp on Joong’s desk casting a dim glow over the space. His AirPods were sitting on the edge of the dresser, right where he said they’d be.

He picked them up. Slid them into his pocket. And when he turned, he found you standing in the doorway, eyes on him, the tension a quiet thrum between you.

You didn’t speak at first. Didn’t even seem to breathe. Then, finally, softly, “Why do you watch me?”

His chest rose. Stilled.

Your voice wasn’t accusatory. It wasn’t flirtatious. It was something else entirely. Quiet. Raw. Something that made the air thinner between you.

You took a slow step into the room, still not looking away. “I’ve seen you. For years now. At first I thought it was just because I was Joong’s sister. Or maybe because you were trying to figure me out. But it wasn’t that.”

He didn’t answer. Not yet.

Your fingers curled slightly at your sides. “Tonight… the way you looked at me before you went onstage. Like you’d already made up your mind.”

Seonghwa’s throat worked, the silence stretching just enough to ache. He moved then, just a little, stepping forward into the soft light, his eyes darker than they’d been all night. “I watch you,” he said quietly, “because I can’t not.”

You inhaled sharply.

“Because when you walk into a room, I forget whatever I was doing before you arrived,” he continued, voice low, careful, but unflinching. “Because I’ve spent the last few years trying to convince myself you’re just my best friend’s sister… and failing. Every single time.”

Your heartbeat echoed in your ears as he took another step. Closer now. His hand grazed the edge of the desk, steadying himself like he needed it. Like you’d knocked the breath out of him with a single question.

“I watch you because I never get tired of watching you,” he added, eyes locked to yours. “Because I’ve memorized the way your smile changes when you’re faking it versus when you’re not. Because every version of you makes me feel like I’m standing on the edge of something I’m not supposed to want.”

You blinked, lips parting slightly.

“I watch you,” he finished, “because I’m in love with you.”

And just like that, the room wasn’t quiet anymore. It was loud. It was thunder under your skin. It was every word your brother never said out loud, every glance that never meant nothing, every lyric in that song. Every second that led to this one.

Seonghwa barely had time to breathe. One second you were just staring at him, eyes glassy, lips parted like his confession had knocked the wind out of you.

Your fingers curled around the edge of his choker. And then you pulled. He stumbled forward a half step, your grip tightening just enough to hold him still, and then your mouth was on his, urgent, full of years of silence, years of almost. The kiss was messy, desperate, real, and it cracked something open in his chest so violently he nearly groaned against your lips.

You kissed him like you’d been waiting for him to crack first. He kissed you like he’d been dying for permission.

His hands flew to your waist, fingers curling into the fabric of your top, dragging you closer, closer still, until there was nothing left between you but the question of how long you were both willing to wait.

You pushed your tongue into his mouth, tasting champagne and restraint finally unraveling, and Seonghwa hissed through his teeth as your hands moved up his chest. Your palms slid over his shirt, dragging over his collarbone, and his skin burned beneath your touch.

You pulled back just enough to whisper against his lips, “I’ve wanted you longer than I should’ve.”

He nearly lost it right then. “Say it again,” he breathed, lips brushing your jaw as he pressed his mouth to your neck, tasting skin and perfume and heat. “Say it again.”

You tugged at his choker once more, rougher this time. “I’ve thought about you for years.”

He growled something low, barely a sound, just breath and teeth, as his mouth found your throat again, kissing down until your back hit the edge of Hongjoong’s bed. He didn’t push you yet. Didn’t rush. He was savoring this. You. The way your hips tilted toward him like you couldn’t help it, like your body had been waiting for this just as long as his.

His hands dragged up your sides, slipping beneath your shirt to feel bare skin. “Tell me to stop,” he murmured, voice hoarse now, “and I swear I will.”

You looked at him then, really looked at him, lip bitten, cheeks flushed, pupils blown wide with need. “I don’t want you to stop.”

He kissed you again, harder this time, hands moving fast now, lips, neck, the curve of your waist. He wanted to take his time. But he also wanted to ruin you for anyone else. And by the way you moaned when he dragged his mouth down your chest, he wasn’t alone.

You pulled back from the kiss, panting. Seonghwa’s lips were parted, chest rising in short, uneven breaths, pupils blown wide. His hands were still on your waist, but he wasn’t guiding you anymore. You were in control now, and he felt it in every cell of his body.

You didn’t say a word. Just reached up and wrapped your fingers around the silver cross of the choker he still wore, still warm from your touch, and gave it a slow, deliberate tug.

His mouth fell open slightly as you started walking backward, out of Hongjoong’s room, dragging him with you.

You didn’t look over your shoulder once as you led him down the hall, your steps steady despite the heat between you, your fingers never loosening from the leather at his throat. Seonghwa’s feet moved automatically, like his body was locked to yours, gaze glued to the sway of your hips, to the tension in your jaw, to the way you looked at him like you already knew how the night would end.

A door opened. Steam spilled into the hallway from the bathroom just as Jongho stepped out, towel around his neck, hair damp, eyes barely adjusted to the light… And then he froze.

So did Seonghwa.

You didn’t. You simply turned your head and met your roommate’s very startled stare, and gave him the slightest smile. Before dragging Seonghwa right past him.

Jongho’s mouth opened. Closed. And then, without a single word, he stepped to the side, hand braced on the bathroom door, watching with wide eyes as you pulled his hyung down the hall like a commandment.

Seonghwa caught the look. Wide eyed. Knowing. He wanted to feel embarrassed. But you tugged the choker again. And his knees nearly buckled.

The door of your bedroom clicked shut behind him, and Seonghwa barely had time to blink before your mouth was on his again. Not soft. Not sweet. Claiming.

Your fingers curled around the front of his choker again as you kissed him like you’d made a decision and were already too far gone to turn back. The pressure of your grip made his breath hitch, and when your other hand slid beneath the edge of his blazer, shoving it from his shoulders, he didn’t stop you.

You pulled back just slightly, lips brushing his as you whispered, “The choker stays on.”

His eyes flew open. For half a second, he forgot how to speak.

Seonghwa, who always had a plan, who knew every beat of a moment before it happened, who had never let someone else take the reins behind closed doors, just nodded.

Because your voice was a command. Because your fingers were undressing him like you’d waited years for this. And because he wanted to see what it felt like to be ruined by you.

Your hands slid down his chest, pushing his blazer to the floor in a soft thud. Next came the shirt, damp with sweat and clinging to his skin. You peeled it off slowly, dragging your fingers along his abs as you lifted it over his head, and he had to brace himself on the wall behind you, just to keep standing.

You tossed it aside and pressed your palms to his chest again, skin to skin now, warm and open beneath your touch.

He exhaled shakily as you looked up at him through your lashes, fingers ghosting along his ribs. “You still with me?”

Seonghwa nodded again, voice gone. “Yes.”

“Good.”

Your hands went to his belt next. He didn’t stop you. Didn’t say a word. Just watched you with wide, reverent eyes, lips parted, breath shallow, arms flexing at his sides from the restraint it took not to grab you and flip the script.

But he didn’t. Because for the first time in his life… he wanted to be undone. By you. And the choker? The choker would definitely stay on.

Seonghwa didn’t remember how he got to the edge of your bed. He barely remembered the moment you pushed him back against it, or how his pants hit the floor. His breath came in shallow bursts, his skin tingling everywhere your fingers had touched.

Now the only thing he wore was the choker still tight around his throat.

And you? You were on your knees. Right in front of him. Looking up through your lashes with that mix of heat and mischief and knowing, like you were fully aware of what this was doing to him. Like you could feel the tension vibrating through his muscles, see the way his fingers flexed at his sides trying not to reach for you.

You pressed a kiss to the skin just above his waistband. And he swore he stopped breathing.

When you hooked your thumbs into the band of his briefs and started tugging them down his hips, he couldn’t stop the groan that spilled from his throat, low, wrecked, and already unraveling.

You dragged the fabric down slowly, eyes never leaving his. And when he sprang free, hard and already leaking for you, your lashes fluttered like you’d just been given a gift.

He watched, trembling, as you leaned in, your breath brushing against his length, and then your tongue.

Just the tip. Just one slow, teasing lick from base to tip that made his entire body seize like you’d hit a live wire. “F…. fuck,” he whispered, voice breaking.

You smiled. Not sweet. Dangerous. And then you did it again. This time slower, letting your tongue glide up the underside, pausing at the head to swirl around him like you knew it would drive him insane.

His hand gripped the edge of the bed so hard his knuckles turned white as you looked up at him with those devastating eyes, lips parted, mouth so close, and Seonghwa thought he might actually come apart just from the anticipation.

“You’re not real,” he muttered, barely audible. “You can’t be real.”

But then you opened your mouth. And wrapped your lips around the tip of him. And Seonghwa’s knees buckled.

He let out a noise he didn’t even recognize, raw, broken, worshipful, because nothing had ever felt like this. No one had ever dropped to their knees in front of him like this. No one had ever looked at him like they wanted to break him open just to see what he was made of.

He was already close. Already dizzy. Already yours. And he hadn’t even touched you yet.

Seonghwa wasn’t sure how long he stood there, teetering on the edge. His eyes were locked to yours, his breath caught somewhere between disbelief and desperation, his thighs trembling with the restraint it took not to thrust forward into the warmth of your mouth.

And then you sank lower. Slower. Deeper. He gasped. Not loud, just a hitched sound in the back of his throat as your lips slid down the length of him, your hand steady at his base, guiding him past your tongue until your nose brushed his skin and he could feel the back of your throat.

His knees buckled. “God… fuck, Y/N!” He braced one hand against the mattress, the other hovering near your jaw, trembling like he wanted to touch you, needed to, but couldn’t bring himself to break the spell. You started to move then, slow and deep, your lips tight around him, tongue working every inch you could take, and the wet sounds you made only dragged him closer to the edge.

He was a mess. Eyes fluttering shut. Jaw slack. Head tipped back as his moans grew louder, broken and breathy. Then you looked up. Still moving. Still taking him. Watching him fall apart for you. And that was it. That was the moment he let go.

His hips gave a single, involuntary thrust forward, and you didn’t stop him. You let him use your mouth. Let him slide deeper again, the back of your throat tightening around him as his groan cracked right down the middle.

“F… fuck, I’m…..”

But you pulled back before he could finish the thought, slowly, saliva glistening across your lips as you released him with a sinful pop.

He almost collapsed.

And then, before he could catch his breath, you leaned forward and started kissing your way up his body. From the crease of his hip to the center of his abs. From his stomach to his chest, your hands sliding over his ribs, grounding him while your lips moved higher.

You kissed the hollow of his throat, then the underside of his jaw, your breath hot and soft as your body pressed flush to his.

And Seonghwa? He couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. Could barely think. Because all he could feel, all he could need, was you.

Seonghwa felt it crack. Somewhere between the kiss to his jaw and the soft whisper of your breath against his ear, that careful control he’d been clinging to for years shattered.

You’d gotten him naked. You’d dropped to your knees and made him beg in a voice that didn’t even sound like his.

And now? Now you were kissing at his neck, still fully dressed, still in charge, and his body couldn’t take it anymore.

With a growl buried deep in his throat, he grabbed your hips and hauled you into his lap. Your legs wrapped around him instinctively, and the moment you settled against the thick press of him, still hard, still twitching for you, his hands gripped tighter, pulling you down as he rolled his hips up to grind into you.

The friction made you gasp, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“You think I haven’t dreamed about this?” he rasped, voice wrecked and low. “Every fucking night?” He kissed you before you could answer, hard, possessive, teeth grazing your bottom lip as he pushed his tongue past your lips and swallowed the whimper you let out when he ground against you again.

Your hands slipped into his hair, tugging, and he moaned into your mouth, the choker biting gently at his neck as he pressed you closer. Then his hands found the zipper of your corset. He removed it in one fluid motion, baring your chest to the warm air. His breath caught for just a second, just enough to take you in, to stare, to memorize, and then his hands found the clasp of your bra. It hit the floor a moment later.

And his mouth was on you before you could even react, hot and open and hungry. He kissed down your throat, over your collarbone, then lower still, dragging his tongue over one nipple before sucking it into his mouth like he’d earned it.

Your head dropped back, a moan tearing from your throat, and Seonghwa felt your hips grind against him again, desperate and instinctive. “Tell me this is mine,” he whispered against your skin, voice shaking.

“Yours,” you breathed. “I’m yours.”

Seonghwa couldn’t stop touching you. Your skin was warm beneath his hands, soft and flushed, still trembling from the friction of your hips grinding against his. You were sitting in his lap, shirtless, breath shallow, and he swore, if he wasn’t already in love with you, this would’ve done it.

But he was in love with you. Hopelessly. Dangerously. And right now, he wanted to worship you like it was the last thing he’d ever get to do.

His mouth was still on your chest when his hands slid lower, fingertips finding the button of your pants, popping it open without breaking his rhythm. You gasped when the zipper slid down, your hips twitching toward him on instinct.

“You’re shaking,” he murmured, lips brushing your sternum.

“Because of you,” you whispered back.

He lifted you like you weighed nothing, guiding you to your feet, eyes never leaving yours as he hooked his fingers in the waistband of your pants and dragged them down, slow, deliberate, eyes dark and reverent as inch after inch of your thighs were revealed.

His hands smoothed down your legs, mouth dry as the fabric pooled at your ankles. And then his gaze lifted again, dragging up your body until it landed right where he wanted it most.

Your panties were soaked. For him.

“Fuck,” he breathed, voice reverent. “You’re so wet.”

He reached for you again, but this time with purpose, grabbing your hips, flipping you effortlessly onto the bed behind you. You let out a soft yelp, laughing through a breathless gasp as your back hit the mattress.

And before you could tease him, before you could say a single word, he was kneeling at the edge of the bed, hands gripping the waistband of your underwear. “You sure?” he asked, voice low, mouth hovering just above your inner thigh.

Your answer was a breathless, “Take them off.”

He dragged the lace down your legs with a pace that made you whimper, kissing the inside of your thighs as he went, eyes locked on the way your chest rose and fell. When the panties hit the floor, he sat back on his heels for just a second, just enough to take in the full sight of you, finally bare beneath him.

And god, you were soaked. So beautiful. So fucking his. Seonghwa could barely believe you were real. Laid out across the bed, legs spread for him, your skin flushed and lips parted as you watched him settle between your thighs like he’d earned the right to kneel there.

He had. Because he’d waited for this. He’d dreamed of this. He’d touched himself to the thought of this, with your voice in his head and your name on his lips more times than he’d ever admit.

He kissed the inside of your thigh, then again just a little higher, the skin impossibly soft under his mouth. His hands gripped your hips to keep you open for him, thumbs stroking lazy circles into your skin as he moved closer to where you were wet and aching and waiting.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” he whispered against your skin, voice low and reverent. “So long, Y/N.”

You whimpered softly, hips shifting toward his mouth.

Another kiss. Higher now. Just near your center but not quite. Teasing. “Wanted to taste you since that night you pinned my collar straight backstage. You had no idea what you were doing to me.”

You reached down, fingers slipping into his hair, gripping gently, encouraging, pleading.

He smiled against your skin. “You always act so composed,” he murmured. “But you don’t hide from me. Not really.”

You gasped as he kissed the crease where your thigh met your core, his nose brushing dangerously close. And then, his voice dropped to a whisper, barely audible over your pulse, “Skin is about you.”

Your breath caught. Your whole body went still. “What?” you managed to choke out, your hand tightening in his hair.

Seonghwa looked up from between your thighs, eyes dark and wild and honest. “It’s always been you.” And then he dropped his mouth to you, slow, deep, claiming, his tongue sliding into you with the kind of hunger that made your spine arch clean off the bed.

You cried out, thighs trembling around his shoulders, the taste of his name already on your lips as he groaned into you, like you were everything he’d been starving for.

And in that moment, as he buried his mouth deeper, tongue curling inside you, hands pinning your hips to the sheets, you understood every lyric. Every moan in the bridge. Every breathless pause in the chorus.

He didn’t just write “Skin” for you. He wrote it about this. About how much he craved you. How much he still did.

Seonghwa had never tasted anything like you. Sweet. Warm. Dripping on his tongue like you were made for his mouth. And fuck, the sounds you were making. Loud. So loud.

You weren’t trying to be quiet, and he didn’t want you to be. Your moans bounced off the walls, needy, high pitched, shameless, and somewhere in the apartment, he knew damn well Wooyoung and Jongho could hear every second of it.

Good. Let them hear what he’s been starving for. Let them hear how you sound when you fall apart for him.

He buried his face deeper, tongue working you open, curling and fucking into you like he was trying to memorize the way you clenched for him. Your fingers were in his hair, fisting tight, hips grinding helplessly against his mouth as your thighs began to tremble.

“Seonghwa… fuck, fuck…..”

He groaned low against you, the vibration ripping through your core as he gripped your hips tighter, holding you in place, owning every gasp and curse you gave him. Your legs were shaking now. You were close. He felt it, your thighs twitching, breath catching, body bucking against his mouth. And just when he felt you start to break…. He pulled back.

You whimpered, a desperate, wrecked sound, as he dragged his mouth away and rose up over you, his lips glossy with your slick, eyes dark and hungry. Then his hand slipped between your thighs again. Two fingers. Deep.

You cried out, your back arching off the bed as he pumped them inside you, curling them just right until you were gasping his name like a prayer. Your hands scrambled for something, anything, and landed right on his choker.

Your fingers gripped the leather tight, yanking him down by the neck just as your orgasm hit. It ripped through you, violent and unstoppable, and Seonghwa didn’t stop, didn’t dare stop. He kept fucking you with his fingers, watching the way you shook beneath him, the way your mouth dropped open, eyes fluttering shut as your first orgasm crashed down.

“You feel that?” he whispered, panting, forehead pressed to yours. “That’s mine. You’re mine.”

You whimpered his name again, still gripping his choker like you were holding on for dear life. And fuck if that didn’t make him throb so hard he thought he might come untouched.

Seonghwa barely had time to breathe. One second, your orgasm was still pulsing around his fingers, your body slick and trembling beneath him, your hand still fisted in his choker like it grounded you.

The next? You pushed at his chest, firm. And he let you. He fell back onto the bed, chest heaving, fingers wet and twitching at his sides as you climbed over him, slow, powerful, the heat in your eyes turning him inside out.

“Y/N…” he breathed, voice cracking as you kissed him before he could say another word, deep and desperate, tongue tasting the way his lips shook under yours. You were still gripping the choker, pulling him into you like you owned him now.

Because you did. You fucking did.

He moaned into your mouth as you lined him up, your thighs bracketing his hips, the wet heat of your core brushing his length, so warm, so ready, so his.

“Wait…. fuck, wait…” he stuttered, one hand grabbing at your hip. But you didn’t wait. You sank down onto him, slow and steady, inch by aching inch, and Seonghwa let out a sound that could only be described as wrecked. “Fuck!”

You were tight around him, wet and pulsing, gripping him so perfectly it stole the breath right out of his lungs. His eyes rolled back. His hands flew to your hips, but he didn’t pull, you were already taking everything. And when your hips dropped fully, when your ass pressed flush to his thighs and he was completely inside you, you clenched around him.

And he shouted your name. “God, you feel…. fuck, Y/N, you feel so good, so fucking…”

He was loud.

You were louder.

And he couldn’t shut up if he tried as you gripped his choker again, dragging him up into a kiss as you started to roll your hips, slow and delicious, grinding against him like you were built for it.

His head fell back against the mattress, hands trembling, jaw slack. Seonghwa couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. You were still gripping his choker, tight, possessive, holding him there like he was yours to keep. And god, he was.

He was yours. Completely.

You started to move, slow at first, grinding your hips in a rhythm that made his eyes roll back into his skull. The way your walls fluttered around him, slick and perfect, sent lightning down his spine. His mouth fell open, a soundless moan catching in his throat before it broke loose into a breathless, “Fuck…. don’t stop, don’t…”

You lifted your hips just enough for him to slip nearly out of you, then dropped back down, taking him again. The slap of skin against skin filled the room, louder now, soaked and desperate.

He grabbed at your hips, your thighs, anything he could reach, but your hand never left his choker. You leaned over him slightly, that grip keeping him close, your chest brushing his as you started to ride him harder, faster, your moans climbing with every thrust. “You like this?” you whispered into his ear. “Being under me like this?”

He moaned, loud, wrecked, arching into you. “Yes…. fuck, yes, I can’t…”

You clenched around him again and hips stuttered up into you, thighs trembling under yours. Your fingers tugged the leather strap tighter, not too tight, just enough for him to feel it. His eyes snapped open and locked to yours.

“You’re not allowed to come,” you whispered.

He whimpered, fucking whimpered, and nodded, eyes wide. “Say it,” you demanded, bouncing on him now, your rhythm brutal. “I…. I’m not allowed to come,” he gasped.

You smirked as you kept riding him. Fast. Hard. Deep. The bed was creaking, the headboard slamming softly against the wall with each thrust. His hands gripped your waist so tight you were sure his fingertips would leave bruises. His moans were wild, unfiltered, sinful.

But your grip? Still on his throat. Still holding him there. Like you knew exactly what he needed.

Seonghwa didn’t know if it was the grip on his choker, the sight of you riding him like you needed to ruin him, or the way his name sounded wrecked coming out of your mouth, but he was close. Too close. Too fucking deep in it.

You’d leaned back now, your thighs spread wide over his, your spine arched as you moved faster, rougher, the way he filled you punching soft, wet filthy sounds into the room that echoed off the walls like sin made tangible.

He tried to hold on. Tried to stay still. But your moans were shattering, your pace was cruel, and that grip on his choker…. God.

“Don’t come,” you warned, voice jagged. “Not until I do.”

He whined, his hips bucking up into you in tight, needy thrusts.

“I’m serious,” you breathed, eyes wild, sweat slicking your chest as you started to bounce harder, faster, slapping down onto him with obscene rhythm. “You’re gonna fucking stay right there until I….”

Your words cut off. Because he pounded up into you. Hard. And again. And again. You screamed. Your grip on his choker snapped tight, pulling him up off the bed slightly as your entire body clenched, and then it hit.

You shattered on top of him with a scream that would have woken the dead, squirting. The wet slap of it against his thighs, the soaked sheets under you, the way your whole body convulsed and shook, it was too much. Your thighs trembled violently, your nails digging into his chest, your moans ragged and so loud….

There was no way Wooyoung and Jongho didn’t hear it.

Every part of it.

The bed. The moans. The way you screamed his name like it was all you knew how to say.

“Seonghwa!”

And he didn’t stop. He couldn’t. He kept pounding up into you, the wet mess of your orgasm splashing against his thighs as you shook and trembled and kept grinding, riding the aftershocks like you wanted to drag him under with you.

He was close. So fucking close. But he still didn’t come. Because he was yours. Because you told him not to. And he’d burn in this moment for as long as you wanted.

Seonghwa’s body trembled with restraint, muscles locked tight beneath sweat slick skin. You were still twitching in his lap, gasping from your orgasm, your thighs sticky and glistening around his hips, his dick still buried deep inside your soaked heat.

And god, he wanted to come so badly. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. Not until you did again. He grabbed you suddenly, one arm wrapping behind your back, the other hooking under your thigh, and with a rough gasp of breath, he flipped you onto your back, following you down, never pulling out.

You landed with a bounce, already moaning again, legs open, heart pounding, and Seonghwa was right there above you. Pressed chest to chest. Inside you.

He kissed you hard. Then sank his hips forward. Slow. Deep. You whimpered under him, your walls fluttering around him again, already so sensitive, but you didn’t stop him. You pulled him closer, one hand burying in his hair, the other reaching blindly for the choker still around his throat.

You gripped it, hard, and he groaned against your mouth. Then he moved. Long, deep thrusts. Slow at first, intimate, burning, his hips grinding into yours until the headboard hit the wall again. The squelch of your soaked core filled the room, filthy and shameless. The smell of sex was thick in the air, sweet and hot and yours.

He shifted his weight, grabbed your thighs and folded your legs over his shoulders. The new angle made you cry out. Made his dick drag perfectly along your sweet spot with every thrust.

“You feel so fucking good,” he moaned. “So tight… fuck, Y/N, you’re shaking again.”

You were. Your nails were digging into his scalp, your body squirming beneath him, already on the edge again, overstimulated but needing it. His pace picked up. Harder. Rougher. The slaps of skin on skin echoing loud and fast, the sound of your bodies slamming together like thunder.

Your mouth fell open. “S… Seonghwa….”

His face dropped to yours, voice desperate and hoarse as his thrusts got frantic. “I can’t come until you do,” he panted, kissing your jaw, your neck, your mouth, everything he could reach. “So come again, come with me.”

You nodded, barely, legs locked around him, one hand fisting his hair, the other yanking his choker like reins.

“Together,” he growled.

And then your body snapped again. You clenched around him like a vice, crying out, voice wrecked and wild and so loud as you came undone under him.

He thrust one more time and came. Hard. With a shout muffled in your neck, he buried himself as deep as he could go, hips locked tight to yours, dick pulsing and twitching, filling you in thick, hot waves as you squeezed around him, still coming right along with him.

It was loud.

It was filthy.

It was everything.

And even as your bodies stopped shaking, as your hands softened in his hair and the grip on his choker loosened, he didn’t pull out. He stayed inside you. Breathing hard. Pressed tight.

Your limbs were tangled, skin sticking to skin, bodies slick and flushed as your breathing finally began to slow. The sheets beneath you were wrecked, wet, twisted, clinging to your thighs and his hips like evidence.

You both smelled like sweat, sex, and something sweeter, something earned.

Your fingers were still threaded through his hair, stroking gently now, no longer pulling. He was resting his forehead against your chest, arms looped around your waist like he was afraid to let go.

You broke the silence first, with a smirk in your voice and zero mercy. “So… how long were you gonna wait before telling me you wrote a whole ass song about me?”

Seonghwa groaned into your skin and laughed softly, chest rising beneath him. He looked up at you, hair a mess, lips kiss swollen, and his expression softened into something entirely different.

You kissed him, slow, lingering, sweet, and just as you pulled back, your door opened.

Like it fucking had the nerve.

You both turned your heads at the same time, startled, breath still ragged, bodies very clearly still intertwined beneath the ruined covers.

And there, frozen halfway into the room….. Hongjoong. Eyes wide. Mouth open. A hoodie pulled halfway off one shoulder, holding what looked like a charger in one hand and betrayal in the other.

“Oh,” he said flatly. Then again, louder. “Oh my fucking….”

You squeaked and tried to drag the blanket higher.

Seonghwa just froze, looking like his soul left his body entirely.

Joong blinked. Slowly.

“Seonghwa.”

“Hi,” Seonghwa croaked.

“Were you planning on telling me,” Joong said, stepping back like the sight physically hurt, “before or after you rearranged my sister’s fucking soul in the room down the hall from mine?”

Silence.

Then Wooyoung’s voice, muffled from behind a wall somewhere down the hall, “and they were loud as hell too!”

Jongho’s voice echoed after his. “Could hear them through my AirPods.”

Seonghwa closed his eyes as your head dropped back against the pillow.

Hongjoong turned and walked out muttering something about trauma and bleach.

“So….” You looked at Seonghwa, a devious smirk pulling at your lips. “does Joong know that song is about me?”

He groaned into the pillow.

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

You sighed, knowing there was no stopping Seonghwa from coming over to your place after the news you’d laid out for him, so you just decided to lounge on your couch until he came in about thirty minutes later through the front door, holding the eviction notice with a frown.

“You’re getting evicted?” He placed the paper onto the console by your front door, his voice sounding concerned.

Another deep sigh left you as you took one of your throw pillows and covered your face with it. 

“I don’t wanna talk about it, Hwa..” you muttered against the soft material, your voice muffled as you thought about what you were gonna do.

Seonghwa just sighed, taking his shoes off and placing them beside yours, seeing how withdrawn you were. The past few weeks had really taken their toll on you, and it seemed like he was the only one who noticed.

“Come on,” he murmured your name softly, nudging your legs a bit to make some space on the couch for himself before taking the pillow away from your face. The action made you groan, not wanting to show your face to him since you’d been tearing up from frustration. “Talk to me.”

You looked at him with tearful eyes, your nose scrunched up as if you were trying not to let the tears run down your cheeks, but already failing as you sat up. He waited for you to speak, but you couldn’t even form the words you wanted to.

How were you supposed to? You felt a little pathetic, getting evicted from your apartment, and now jobless along with it. It would take you some time to find a proper paying job, but you didn’t have enough time for that.

Seeing your defeated, distant look, Seonghwa came up with an idea. “How about you move in with me?”

The sound of it didn’t sound too silly to him, but to you, it felt like something out of a drama. You only managed to muster out a soft, dry chuckle, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. “Hwa, you can’t expect me to accept that—”

“What do you mean? You’re about to get evicted, and I’m– I’m not letting my best friend land on the streets! And I have a lot of space, so you can’t argue with me.” He retorted as he cut you off. Determination burned in your best friend’s eyes, and it was a look that you could recognise from a mile away. He wasn’t going to let you fend for yourself when he could clearly help.

“Seonghwa, I have parents, come on, you’re being dramatic,” you still argued, but he wasn’t having it, having arguments of his own to back up his idea.

“Yeah, I know. But are you really willing to move back to them after trying so hard to prove them wrong?”

You bit your tongue at that, knowing that he was right. Seonghwa always seemed to know you better than you knew yourself, and it was both extremely sweet and annoying in the current moment.

“So? What do you say? You wanna move in with your best friend?”

“Fine.”

A week passed since Seonghwa’s proposal, and it was a hassle to pack all your belongings into boxes, but you managed to do it. He helped you pack them up in the back of the van he rented, and let you drive to his apartment with him on the passenger seat.

“You should really get a driver’s license,” you murmured as you turned on the radio quietly. “Driving on your own is good for you.”

“Hey, just because I can’t drive doesn’t mean I don’t want to.”

“Right, Mr Passenger Princess,” you teased, laughing softly as you made your way to his apartment building with practised ease. Seonghwa rolled his eyes at the nickname but let it slide, only ruffling your hair as you drove.

Once you arrived, you parked the van and unbuckled your belt before leaving the vehicle. Seonghwa followed suit to help carry the heavier boxes, taking them before you could.

“Nope, I’m carrying the heavy stuff for you. You open the door.” He only ordered softly, making you huff but comply with his silly request. You couldn’t deny the fact that this was nice—him helping you out like this. It felt nice being taken care of without stressing about what to do next.

For the next two hours, the two of you went up and down to grab your boxes from the van. When you eventually got everything into his apartment, he helped you unpack, not complaining once. 

“I’ll manage those, they’re just magnets.” You took the box with your travel trinkets inside, thinking of what to do with them while you were packing earlier. Contemplating throwing them away, you decided against it, the souvenirs holding the sentimentality of your past trips.

“You can put them up on my fridge, you know? Mine’s kind of blank anyway. Just a few magnets from when we go on tour…” He trailed off, a small smile on his lips as he offered to share most of his space with you.

“Hwa—” 

“I swear, if you say something about it being “okay” and “not wanting to intrude on my space”, I will make you move into my room. This is your apartment now, too, so get used to it, okay?”

You opened your mouth to argue, but stopped. There was no use arguing about this now, so you just nodded, giving in and started putting up the magnets on the fridge door.

After unpacking and folding the boxes, Seonghwa and you settled onto the couch, exhausted, finally finished for the day.

“I never thought you’d have so much stuff—your apartment was tiny!” He chuckled, wiping the sweat from his forehead before checking the time. “I should get dinner going.”

“I’ll help. As a thank you.”

Seonghwa shook his head, patting your head. “Don’t worry, I’ll deal with it, just rest for now. I’ll call you once the food’s finished.”

Without another word, he stood up and went to the kitchen to start cooking, leaving you in the living room with your thoughts.

Had Seonghwa always been this considerate? You knew he was, but seeing him take care of everything for you made something in your stomach flip. 

Ignoring the thought as it came, you distracted yourself with his TV, turning on a random channel to watch as your best friend cooked up dinner.

About an hour into some animal documentary, Seonghwa called out for you in the kitchen, announcing the food was ready. You headed over there, and the smell of spice and various dishes lay on the dining table. 

“Dig in, I’ll get the soju.”

“Are we celebrating something?” You sat down at the table, a small, amused smile painting your lips as he got some shot glasses and soju from the fridge.

“I mean.. You moving in here is something to celebrate, I guess? Do we really need to have a reason to drink?” He retorted with his own question, making you shake your head with a laugh while taking one of the shot glasses from him.

“No, no, I guess not.”

Eating and drinking, you chatted over various things, with him mostly listening to you complain about your now-past job. His gaze was soft, and his eyes were crinkled at the edges as he laughed at the jokes you made, feeling good about the light atmosphere that had been brought into his usually empty apartment.

Soon enough, you were at the bottom of your second bottle of soju, Seonghwa having stopped drinking after his fifth shot, knowing his limit, but you just seemed to keep on going.

“Hey—hey.. That’s enough, hm? You’ve drunk most of the two bottles. Let’s not overdo it, okay?” He placed his hand over yours when you tried to reach for the bottle to pour another shot, a small pout forming on your lips.

“But Hwa—” you whined, but he only shook his head, taking the shot glass away from you.

“Let’s get your ass to bed, little drunkard.” He then got up from his chair, hoisting you over his shoulder, which made you squeal out of surprise, not expecting him to be able to do that. Has he been working out? You wouldn’t be able to tell in your tipsy daze.

He brought you to your room, still half-filled with boxes, but there was enough space for him to move around and place and tuck you in.

“Get some rest, pretty girl,” He murmured, kissing your forehead as you grunted. Before he could leave, you grabbed his forearm, making him hum softly.

“You’re a great guy, Seonghwa…” you grumbled before finally going out like a light, his expression soft.

“Only for you.”

The next morning, you were all achy, your head pounding, and you wanted it to stop. Heading to the main area, you found Seonghwa already cooking up some hangover soup for you, his face filled with mock surprise.

“Well, good morning, Ms Grumpy Face. Did you sleep okay?” He asked as he poured the soup into a bowl.

“Shut up.. What– what time is it?” you grumbled as you walked over to where he was and leaned your head against his back, awfully comfortable being close to him like always. 

Seonghwa just chuckled softly at your behaviour before turning to face you and hugging you. “Hmm, just after ten. How’s your head? You drank a lot last night.”

You only managed to let out another grunt in response, burying your face into his chest, his scent sweet and comforting. He let out another soft laugh, shaking his head at your behaviour before sitting you down at the table.

“Come on, let’s get some food and water into that stomach of yours.”

And like that, two weeks turned into a month, and you started getting used to living with Seonghwa, doing groceries together, spending time with each other when his schedule wasn’t as busy, and just doing typical best friend things. Or so you thought.

During one of your job hunts, you’d started getting a bit more stressed again, not being able to find anything good. In addition to that, the guilt of freeloading had been getting to you, and you couldn’t help but feel like you weren’t doing enough around the apartment. You knew it was useless to stress about it, but it was a habit you couldn’t break out of.

When Seonghwa got home from practice, he saw your face buried in your hands, your shoulders slightly trembling, which made him almost drop the flowers he was holding. 

He’d been wanting to surprise you with something good, knowing how hard you’ve been looking for a job lately, but it seemed that all that pent-up stress had caught up with you again.

“Hey… What’s going on?” He called out softly, your body tensing up at the sound of his voice as you wiped away your tears and avoided looking up at him.

“No–nothing, it’s nothing, Hwa..” you said way too quickly, your voice thick as you swallowed away the lump in your throat. The last thing you wanted to do was worry him again.

Seonghwa shook his head, sat down beside you, and took both your hands into his. “Not nothing, sweetheart, you’re crying.” He pushed a few strands of hair away from your face, trying to see you more clearly.

“M’just tired, Hwa..” you murmured, and before he could speak, you continued, “Tired of freeloading like this. I know you said not to worry about it, but I can’t help it. I want to repay you somehow—”

“Hey, hey.. You’re overthinking this,” He interjected, cupping your cheeks with both hands. “I asked you to move in with me because I was okay with it. Don’t think you’re burdening me with your presence here. It’s quite the opposite, really. I have someone to come home to now, rather than just passing out on the couch when I come back from practice.”

Seonghwa chuckled to keep the atmosphere light, but you were still sniffling and not looking at him. It was true, he did look forward to coming home and seeing you around, lounging in his living room or cooking dinner for two. He’s gotten used to the domesticity of it all.

“You’re not freeloading, okay? So, stop stressing yourself about getting back on your feet so quickly. You can stay for as long as you like. I want you here with me.”

I want you here with me.

The five words were short and brief, but they carried more meaning than the two of you wanted to admit. Seonghwa had always liked your company, but it’d been building up to something undeniable lately, with the lingering looks and the unintentional touches.

It’s not like you haven’t noticed them either; you have. You just intentionally ignored them, unsure if it was even right to think of your best friend in such a way. You blamed it on your hormones, and because he was always so considerate and nice. But now, it was hard to ignore, not when he was currently trying to comfort you and stop you from overthinking about this whole situation.

“Seonghwa?” You croaked out, looking up at him as he hummed softly. “Can.. can I ask for something?”

“Yeah? What is it, sweetheart? Anything you want, I’ll do it.”

Heat coiled in your lower stomach at his reassuring tone, and you were either going to get embarrassed by your request or get it fulfilled by him.

“Could make me stop thinking..? Like— like distract me.”

Seonghwa tilted his head to the side, a bit confused, before thinking of something. “I think I know what you need. Come on.”

Taking you to his room, he gently sat you down on the corner of his bed. He then kneeled, taking both your legs and hooking them over his shoulders, which made your eyes go wide in surprise.

“Seonghwa—” you mustered out, but he just shushed you softly.

“Didn’t you want a distraction, pretty girl? I’m giving you one right now. Just relax…” he murmured as he pressed soft kisses along your inner thighs. The feeling of his soft lips on your sensitive skin made you whimper softly.

Relaxing under his touch, you spread your thighs a bit wider, giving him more space to work with. He pushed the crotch area of your shorts to the sides, exposing your panty-covered cunt. A groan left Seonghwa’s lips when he saw the damp spot on the gussets of your underwear, pressing his nose against your clothed mound, and inhaled.

Your toes twitched at the contact of his nose against you, wanting to close your thighs instinctively, but he kept them spread wide. His eyes looked up at you through his eyelashes, gaze gentle as always, but it held more intensity.

“Just focus on feeling, okay?” Seonghwa moved the gussets of your soaked panties to the side, finally revealing your pretty cunt to him. He groaned at the sight, darting his tongue out to wet his lips before flattening the wet muscle against your slit, spreading your pussy lips as he lapped your juices.

You gasped at the sensations of his tongue on you, one of your hands moving towards his hair while your other supported you, grasping tightly on the bedsheets.

“Fuck, you taste so good, baby..” He muttered against you, slurping and dipping his tongue into your hole to test the waters, switching between that and suckling on your clit like it was his favourite candy.

“S–seonghwa—” you choked out brokenly, tugging him closer to where you wanted him, and he obliged, sucking on your clit a bit more before spreading you out further, giving him access to your spasming hole.

He fully dipped his tongue in, fucking you deeply with it as his nose pressed against your bundle of nerves, giving you the perfect stimulation you needed to feel your orgasm building. Seonghwa could feel the way your walls clenched around his tongue, making him moan softly, loving the fact that he was giving you the pleasure you needed.

He then removed his tongue from your gaping heat, making you whine at the loss, only to keen out a whine when he took your pudgy nub into his mouth again.

“That’s it, pretty girl, moan for me. Forget for a bit and focus on my mouth.”

“Hwa– I’m gonna—” you hiccuped, getting closer to the edge as he worked on your clit and drooling hole. 

Seonghwa continued lapping your cunt like a man starved, giving you what you needed, and the band snapped, your orgasm flooding out in waves as you cried out his name like a prayer. He drew out your release, overstimulating your already sensitive clit, your thighs clenching around his head and suffocating him.

Once he stopped, your thighs loosened around his head, Seonghwa gasping softly for air as you let go of his hair that you were gripping onto. “I— I’m so sorry—”

“What for, pretty? For almost suffocating me or giving me the best meal of my life?” He wiped your juices with the back of his hand before licking his lips. “Do you feel better?”

Seonghwa immediately switched up, asking you how you felt after a mind-blowing orgasm.

“I–I’m good. I feel good.”

“Good, because I ain’t done with this pretty pussy just yet.”

ʜᴏɴɢᴊᴏᴏɴ ↠ ʏᴇᴏsᴀɴɢ

sᴇᴏɴɢᴡʜᴀ ↠ ʜᴏɴɢᴊᴏᴏɴ

ʏᴜɴʜᴏ ↠ sᴇᴏɴɢʜᴡᴀ

ʏᴇᴏsᴀɴɢ ↠ sᴀɴ

You resisted the urge to cower down and cuddle into the comfort of the nest you were forced in, to purr and present yourself for your pack- your alphas. You ignored the heat pooling between your thighs. It had been centuries practically since your last heat. Which meant this one was going to fucking suck. You couldn’t help the distressed tears coming to your eyes as you sat up, a big hand resting on your back with a rumble. Yunho. Him and Mingi had taken the spots of Hongjoong and Seonghwa.

Mingi had always been a place of comfort for you- he was sweet, and an omega too. You hated how your body wanted to cuddle into him and let him hold you as his mate pounded into your cunt- knotting your pussy and filling you up with his pups-

Fuck. You took a shaky breath, trying to clear your dirty thoughts. Nope, not happening. Your omega was not getting her way.

The boys could feel your mental battle as you fought to control your thoughts, and they knew it was only a matter of time before you broke under them. But they would wait, patient and caring or their favorite little omega. Their pup of the pack- the runt, the baby.

“You’ll get sick and hurt yourself the more you fight it, y/n.” Mingi whispered, his voice wasn’t even full of desire- it was full of concern. he had been in heat sickness before, It was torture, every opmega knew heat sickness was one of the most dangerous and worse pains they could have. They would only wait for so long, because Hongjoong- or any of them were going to let you go down that rabbit hole.

“I’m hungry.” You interrupted, ignoring his words and how right he was. You hated this- you hated this sickening smell of love and care in this fuck ass nest. Yunho’s claws scratched gently at your back in a comforting method as Jongho stood,

“I got it, joong.” He muttered, leaving the room- you barely managed to control the whimper your throat let out as he left. You hated it- why was your beta leaving you-

A purr rumbled as Mingi nuzzled into your neck, distracting you from your distraught, making you yelp as he nibbled territorially on your neck- blush rising to your face. Hongjoong sleepily growled in warning from where he and Seonghwa were cuddled at the end of the massive bed. Though it was clear he wasn’t really upset, just warning the tall omega to be more gentle. Yunho chuckled as Mingi pouted, when you moved away to closer to Yunho. There really wasn’t anywhere to go- the whole pack was piled in this room, cuddling napping, playing on their phones- one thing was in common, all attention was directed towards you.

Jongho returned, making you relax as the beta sat beside you on the bed, sitting a big plate of food on your lap. It was more of a brunch meal, considering you had slept in. They all had, industry work could wait. They get approved breaks for ruts and heats anyways. And they were already swimming in money. You stared in a somewhat shocked bu not really at the piles of food, plus the extra snacks he had brought. You imediately reached for the bag of chips only to yelp when San swatted your hand from where he laid with Wooyoung. “Eat the food on your plate first, then you can have snacks.” He reprimanded, making you pout.

Of course they were making you eat the bacon, eggs and toast first. Stupid alphas. Always made you eat your protein and whatever first. Bleh.

You begrudgingly ate the yummy food that the beta had cooked for you, hating how good it tasted. Or the way Hongjoong sleepily observed while running his hands through Seonghwa’s hair. Stupid fucking alphas always making sure you ate everything.

When you tried to give the plate away with a few bites left you were scolded and forced to eat the last bit. That was one thing that was normal to you- they had a big problem with you or any of the other omegas not finishing the food prepared, it wasn’t respect so much as as alphas they prided themselves on keeping their omegas fed and well nutritioned. If your stomach wasn’t full they would get pissy.

You were too full to even get into your favorite snacks just yet, but Jongho set them off to the nightstand with plenty of fluids. It was extremely important to keep an omega in pre-heat hydrated, and well fed. And of course well rested. You stared off into space, pouting internally. You groaned, whimpering as you were pulled into Yunho as he protectively held you, hands going to your stomach, where he knew the cramps and pain was. He applied gentle pressure, nuzzling and purring, using his scent to comfort and heat to soothe your pains. And it helped so much before sharp claws you recognized by instinct grasped at your hips- Hongjoong, pulling you away from Yunho with a huff , tucking you into hold. Pack leader were awfully cocky and possessive, always needing to be first and the one o care for any pack members who are extremely vunerable.

You relaxed into his hold, the room going silent as you uncnsented purr released, your alpha soothin your heat pains with his attention, claws diggin into his biceps like a kitten clasping their owner for security. Coos from the room sounded as everyone curled in, various cuddling and different positions, hands finding some point to touch you with comfort as they turned your favorite show on.

Seonghwa shifted into your back- pressing you flush into your alpha. You blushed feeling something rock hard- his knot push into your thigh. Hongjoong tucked your head into his neck, letting you suck and nip. He knew you needed this- you needed comfort and stability. His girthy knot may be swelling in preparation- but they knew it would still be awhile until you were ready for them. Just not yet.

park seonghwa ᰔᩚ

jeong yunho ᰔᩚ

kang yeosang ᰔᩚ

choi san ᰔᩚ

song mingi ᰔᩚ

jung wooyoung ᰔᩚ

choi jongho ᰔᩚ

Then you grabbed his uninjured hand, your touch effectively pulling him out of his thoughts, and tugged towards the small bathroom just off the kitchen. You pulled him inside and nudged the door shut so you’d have better access to the cabinet where your first aid kit sat.

“Run your finger under the cold water while I find everything,” you instructed him, turning to gather your supplies. 

He did as he was told, rolling his eyes playfully at your bossiness. 

Once you had everything you needed to fix him up, you turned back to him and gently took his injured hand. “This might sting a bit,” you mumbled as you took a peroxide-soaked cotton ball and dabbed at his finger.

Seonghwa hissed and flinched, jerking his hand back and cradling it against his chest. 

Scoffing, you took his hand and dabbed at it a second time, tightening your grip ever so slightly when he tried to pull away again. “Okay, now it didn’t hurt that bad. Don’t be a baby.”

He pouted down at you, bottom lip jutting out comically. “I’m not being a bab- OW!” 

You snorted as you tossed the cotton ball into the trash can and reached for a bandage. “Yeah,” you laughed, “you are.”

You opened the bandage, peeling the paper off and letting it fall to the counter as you readjusted your grip on his hand so you could wrap it around his finger. When it was securely in place, you brought it up to your lips and pressed a soft kiss to it. 

“There, all better.” You smiled up at him, and his breath caught in his throat at the warmth on your face. 

Without thinking, he leaned in and pressed his mouth to yours. It was a whisper of a kiss, his lips just barely brushing over yours before he pulled back. You blinked up at him, eyes so wide it would have been comical in any other setting, but were otherwise unmoving.

Seonghwa started to apologize, taking your stunned silence as a rejection. His anxiety ratcheted up, pulse pounding in his ears.

Then you surged forward, hands fisting his shirt so tightly your nails probably could have torn the fabric had they been a fraction sharper. You pulled him into you and smashed your mouth back to his, drawing a groan from deep in his chest. It was raw and primal, and it went straight to your cunt. 

It felt like his hands were everywhere. Your hair. Your ass. Your thighs. Your face. He couldn’t get enough. He wanted to feel every inch of you. Then he wanted to taste it. He’s wanted to find a bed or even a couch, somewhere soft where he could spread you out and take his time with you. Draw out your pleasure and his own until neither of you could function anymore. But right then… he needed you right that instant, or he honestly might have dropped dead at your feet. 

He had you pressed up against the door, one hand tangled in your hair and the other gripping the hem of your skirt. 

“Tell me to stop, and I will. We can go back out there and act like this never happened.” And he was fully prepared to do just that. He was man enough to do that if that’s what you wanted. 

“Please,” it’s a sweet little sound, and he thought he felt his heart stop in his chest at the desperation in your voice, “Please don’t stop.” 

He hummed and started kissing and sucking and biting at your neck, hands moving to hike your skirt up around your waist. Long, deft fingers started tracing you over your panties, smirking when you moaned his name. 

“Shhh, I got you baby,” he mumbled into the skin of your neck. 

His fingers hooked into the side of your panties, pulling them aside so he could rub at your clit. Slow and teasing movements that have you melting into his touch. 

Then he slipped a finger inside you, and he practically dropped to his knees when he felt how truly wet you were for him already. Seonghwa wanted to drink you in, make you cum all over his face, then lick you clean before starting over from the beginning. He crooked his finger forward, testing the angle and pressure until you pitched forward in arms. He keeps rubbing there, the feeling near torturous as he adds another finger and twists his wrist so that the heel of his hand is grinding into your clit with a delicious pressure. 

You clawed at him, ready to rip your pleasure from his bare skin if you needed to. You muttered some strangled version of his name combined with “please” and he can't take it anymore.

He dropped to his knees in front of you, hoisting one of your legs up onto his shoulder, and dove into you. 

His inhumanly long tongue laved over your clit before he wrapped his mouth fully around it, fingers still furiously working against that sweet spot inside you. He groaned into your pussy, and the vibrations of it nearly did you in. Your vision was going white around the edges; you were so close you could taste it.

Without a warning, he pulled away. The loss of his mouth made you want to cry. You start to beg, ready to promise him anything, offer up your very soul, if he would just put his mouth back on you.

“Need you to cum baby. Can you do that for me?” He kissed the request into the plush flesh just under your belly button, tongue slowly licking his way back down towards your pussy. 

Long lashes fluttered up at you as he wrapped his lips around your clit, holding your gaze as he sucked hard enough to hollow out his cheeks. And that’s the image that sent you into complete oblivion. Seeing this man on his knees for you… it’s a piece of artwork you’d never forget. 

Seonghwa worked you through it gently, letting you ride out your high on his tongue and fingers until you were trembling above him. He brought your leg back down, tenderly stroking up and down your thigh as he stood. 

He leaned in, mouth just barely hovering above yours as he whispered, “You did so great for me.” Then he kissed you again, the taste of you still on his tongue making you moan into his mouth.

He tried to take it slow, to be sweet and gentle in the wake of your orgasm. But when you moaned like that.. the tether he had on his self-control snapped. 

Strong hands gripped your hips and spun you around to face the mirror. He nudged your feet apart, making just enough room for him between your thighs. 

“Hold on to the counter,” it was more of a command than a request, his voice so deep and guttural it sent a shiver down your spine. You did as you were told and looked up to watch his face as he admired you. You deepened your arch a little and he found your gaze in the mirror. 

Your head was still swimming; you didn’t even register the fact that he’d undone his pants and pulled out his cock. Something you want to remedy. Soon. 

He stroked himself, plush bottom lip trapped between his teeth as he stared down at your cunt peeking from between your thighs. Then he stepped forward and rutted against you, both of you moaning when his tip caught at your entrance, just shy of sliding home. You were ready to beg for him again when he gave you the sweet relief of actually pushing inside. 

A strangled gasp tore from your throat as he bottomed out. You weren’t expecting the searing ecstasy that spread through your body at the feel of him, his thighs pressed flush to the back of yours. 

He had one hand gripping your hip so tightly you swore there would be little indents of his fingers there for days to come; the other hand was pressed against the glass of the mirror. He rocked back slowly, and the deliciously heavy drag of his cock had you whining and keening for him.

Seonghwa shhhed you and pressed kisses to your neck and ear, murmuring something about other people being able to hear. Caught up in the heat of the moment, you had completely forgotten about the other friends you’d invited over for dinner. Most of them definitely within earshot.

But you didn’t care. Let them hear! They could have a front-row seat for all you cared. 

Seonghwa knew better than that, though. He knew that when all was said and done, once you were more level-headed, you would be mortified if anyone heard you. So he contorted himself and leaned back to fumble with the shower, spinning the handle to turn the spray nearly all the way up in hopes of muffling the sounds. 

He turned back to you and folded himself over you, thrusting back up into you to the hilt. It had you squealing, clawing at the countertop for purchase, anything to grip onto. Steam filled the room quickly, condensation turning everything into a slippery hazard. He slapped a hand against the mirror, trying to find his own leverage. His hips are pounded into your ass, the tip of his cock kissing at your cervix. 

He finally gave up trying to gain any actual leverage in that position, moving both hands to grip at your hips and pulling you into him as he fucks in and out of you. You weren’t even forming coherent words at that point, just a blubbering mess begging for him. You didn’t even know what you were begging for… you thought if it got any better, you might actually see god and all his angels

Then Seonghwa growled out a low “fuck” and pulled all the way out of you. You didn’t even have time to protest or question what he was doing before he spun you around and grabbed the backs of your thighs to hoist you up on the counter. 

More than a little disoriented from being manhandled into the new position, you started to fall back against the mirror. But he was still present enough to shoot out a hand and cup the back of your head, cushioning the slight impact just before your skull made contact with the glass.

It was such a juxtaposition, the tenderness of that act compared to the lewdness of you sitting there spread open to him and him standing with his cock out and leaking precum. 

You were both panting, heavy breaths only adding to the growing heat of the room. He hooked his hands behind your knees and pulled you so that your ass was barely resting on the counter. “Keep holding on baby. Don’t want you to fall.” 

With one hand, you gripped the edge of the counter, the other winding into his hair just as he slid back into you. You moaned out his name, and he was pretty certain he could die a happy man right at that moment. 

He kissed you again, swallowing all your sounds as he set the same brutal pace he had just a heartbeat ago. It’s wet and messy, all clashing teeth and bitten lips.

“Touch yourself for me,” he mumbled into your mouth, pressing his forehead to yours so he could watch with heavy-lidded eyes as you slithered your hand between your bodies to swirl tight little circles against your clit.

It only took a moment before white-hot pleasure was licking its way up your spine, stars bursting behind your eyelids. You cried out as you came, his name a song on your lips. 

You went soft and pliant then, your arms winding around his neck to pull impossibly closer to you. You kissed his temple, murmuring sweet things about how he’s making you feel so good, how he’s stretching you out and filling you up so perfectly that he must have been made for you. 

His thrusts turned sloppy then, jerking and stilted. With a groan of your name, Seonghwa pulled out and stroked his cock in brutally quick movements. He came with a deep moan, hot cum painting over your pussy and thighs. 

He leaned against you, his head resting on your shoulder as he caught his breath. You ran your fingers through his hair and pressed kisses to the side of his head and face. 

The small bathroom was suddenly quiet except for your heavy breathing and the soft hissing of the shower. When he finally came to and realized what a mess he made of you, he fumbled around the bathroom until he found a washcloth and ran it under the (now lukewarm) water from the shower before shutting it off and turning back to you. 

You tried to take the washcloth from him, but he grunted and swatted your hands away. He gently reached between your thighs and rubbed at your pussy before cleaning off the mess on your thighs. 

He tossed the rag into the shower and tucked himself back into his pants before helping you off the counter and readjusting your skirt. He swiped your panties off the floor and tucked them in his back pocket.

“Those are mine,” you tease with a laugh. 

“Not anymore, they’re not.” He kissed your temple and smoothed your hair out of your face. “You did so well for me, angel.” 

You melted into him, not expecting the words to have that much of an effect. You hummed and nuzzled further into his chest, his hands petting over your hair.