;ଓ

“Hey there, sleepy,” he says in a soft, smiling voice.  “What’s all this?  Why you out here, huh?” 

As you wake a little more, you realize he is wearing cologne.  It is subtle, just the faintest hint of something woodsy to underscore his natural pheromones.  He isn’t due for a rut, not for a while, as alphas only rut a few times a year, but that subtle scent is always there.  An alpha’s scent-mark is in their wrist, on the tender underside just above their pulse, similar but different to the omega scent-mark on your neck, thrumming above your pulse there.

He is touching your face, palm cupped over your cheek as his thumb strokes the rounded curve of it.  It puts his scent-mark so close to your nose.  Of course you can smell him, heady and rich and familiar, your best friend, your protector, your most trusted person.  Your alpha.

Yes, you think, as much with your omega hindbrain as anything else, yes, my alpha, mine. 

Your eyes are locked on his, his gaze so affectionate, making you feel so warm.  You look at his face like it is the first time seeing it, as if you haven’t known each other for years, since you were gawky teenagers awkwardly developing into your new presentations.  He’s still that goofy boy inside, though he looks like a man now and he so embodies his presentation.  He is sturdy and strong, confident and competent.  His dyed hair is blonde and long, framing his handsome, made-up face, one soft with smiling affection. 

You blink to realization when you lay a hand on his shoulder and feel leather.  You look down, breath catching at the sight of him: the not-so-modest lace black shirt under leather, the dark pants, the whole stark effect with his fair hair and dark eyes. 

“You look so nice,” you say, and you mean it, but you pout regardless.  “Why do you look so nice?  Where were you?  It’s so late, Channie.” 

You would not usually ask.  Well, you would not usually be curled up outside his apartment in the first place.  You would not have rushed over in the middle of the night, forgetting your phone and spare key, your fuzzy brain having no need of such things because you assumed he would be home.  

It isn’t your business where he went, of course, because he’s a grown man and you’re a grown woman and you’re best friends, nothing more, sweet and close but cordial and so polite.  And if he wants to go out, if he wants some other person curled up in his lap with their hand on his leather lapel…

That thought bleeds into red as jealousy consumes you. 

You breathe hard, closing your eyes, trying to eradicate that horrible image. 

“I just went out,” he says, brushing some hair off your face, probably mistaking your closed eyes for sleepiness.  “Didn’t really wanna, yeah?  But the guys were kinda on my case about always staying in.  I didn’t know you were here.  Should’ve called me, love.”

“Did you get lucky?” you ask, eyes open but fixed on his chest, tracing the pattern of lace across his skin.  You are still breathing hard. 

“Uh, no, wasn’t really… trying…  Are you okay?”  He gently lifts your face to meet your eyes, his brows furrowed with concern. 

You don’t blame him.  These aren’t the questions you usually ask and this isn’t the way you usually behave.  But you don’t have it in yourself to care.  Besides, you could never feel judged with Chan.  It is why you don’t feel insecure even though he is so handsomely done up but you are not.  No, you are just yourself tonight, unadorned and simple. You pulled a long coat over your nightdress and your face is bare under his attentive regard. 

“I need to tell you something,” you say.   

He drops his hand and looks at you expectantly.  He is crouched, balancing on his heels, his arms draped over his knees.  His expression is rapt and fixed on you. 

You feel overwhelmed, just being looked at by him. His gaze is so affectionate.  Your lips part but your voice is caught. 

He tilts his head, still concerned. 

“Oh, Chan,” you whisper. 

You move forward so you are kneeling.  You wrap a hand around the back of his neck and guide his face to your throat. 

He loses his balance, falling from his crouch to his knees.  His arms are thrown out to his sides and his breath catches.  He is probably about to laugh or lift his head, probably about to look at you with bewilderment, but then he freezes. 

You feel the moment he scents you, his face so close to your scent-mark, because the line of his broad shoulders goes stiff. 

His arms freeze, still out at his sides, practically held out in surrender. 

You cling to him and close your eyes. 

“You…” he starts and stops, his breath fanning over your scent-mark. 

He presses his nose against your throat, breathes you in.  Some of that tension melts away, his arms slowly lowering. 

Your heart is absolutely hammering.  You can feel yourself getting wet, so, so wet, just from his breath on your scent-mark, just from the proximity of his lips to your throat. 

“Why do you… smell like you’re…”  he starts and stops again, breathes you in again. 

You know your scent is familiar to him.  It is woven into threads of borrowed hoodies, embedded in his couch cushions, even his bedroom pillows.  He smells it when you throw your arms around him for a hug.  He scents it when you rush past him and it carries on a breeze.  He knows it better than his own scent. 

It should be familiar.   

Tonight it is different. 

“Are you…” he tries again, hands getting a little closer to your body.   “Love,” he says gently and you start to tremble, “You’re not…?” 

You have been on suppressants since you first presented in adolescence.  You are something of an anomaly among omegas, one not envied by others.  Your heats are debilitatingly intense and last longer than average.  Your doctor recommended suppressants for your teenage years, until your body developed and could better tolerate it without falling ill. 

When you matured out of adolescence, you were simply used to suppression.  You have had a few relationships but nothing so intimate as to compel you to share your heat with them.  You know it doesn’t have to be a big deal, that sex is sex at the end of the day, and the same birth control works on or off. 

But it seemed the longer you put it off, the more important it became in your mind. 

You don’t want to share your first with just anyone.  You want someone good, someone protective, someone who respects you, someone who can laugh with you. 

You want your alpha.  You want Chan.    

You went off suppressants last weekend, expecting it would take a month or so to stabilize and trigger an episode, maybe longer considering how long you had been on them.  You thought you would have time to adjust.  You thought you could talk to him properly, to see if he would be willing to see you through this.

Apparently, the length of your suppression had the opposite effect.  It only took a week for your heat to come on, powerfully and all at once.  It is not how you wanted to do things but the omega instincts that usually whisper guidance have commandeered utter control of your senses.    

“I am,” you whisper. 

Your temple is pressed to his, so you can’t see each other’s faces.  It is all scent and feeling, all laboured breath and racing hearts.  There is a bare inch of space between your kneeling bodies. 

“Oh,” he says.

He is frozen another breathless moment. 

Then he moves.  You make a soft noise as he wraps his arms around you, so completely and tightly, pulling you right against him.  He buries his face in your neck and opens his mouth to fully breathe you in.  You feel every hot exhale, the pounding of his heart in his chest, his hands possessive on your body.

“You smell so good,” he says, voice suddenly deeper.  “So fucking sweet… God, I could eat you up.”

A remark like that should make you laugh.  He probably said it for that reason, something teasing to break the tension.  But his tone and flirtation, to say nothing of his strength, makes you sigh sweetly. 

You are already feverish and wanting, pushing your curves into the harder planes of his body.  You gasp when you feel him against your middle, hard and getting harder, and the surprise makes your hips twitch backwards. 

He pulls you against him again, so you can feel it.   

“Please,” you whisper, can’t manage more than that.  “I – I want it to be you.  I’m sorry, I wanted to – to talk – but maybe we can in a few days – for now, I – I need –”

His hand curls around your throat, angling you so your scent-mark is easy to access.  You exhale and it is a shuddering release.  Your whole body goes soft and pliant.  Such vulnerability could be frightening under the wrong conditions. 

The stroke of his thumb, the caress of his breath, the teasing swipe of his nose against your jaw –

His scent, woodsy and warm and familiar –

This is right and your body knows it.   

You offer your neck in sweet submission and he wordlessly accepts.  He presses a soft kiss on that aching, vulnerable scent-mark, the collective source of heat pheromones that must be intoxicating him.  He groans with deep, ardent pleasure, lingers just a moment with his mouth open and his breathing laboured. 

Then your back arches as he bites that sensitive place in a claiming, hard, animalistic bite. 

You see stars.  You cling to him, grappling, scratching across the leather as he uses his last moments of coherent sense to scoop you into his arms and carry you into his apartment. 

You don’t get much farther than the entrance.  The door slams shut and he grabs your face, pulling you in for a kiss that is all teeth and tongue.  You whimper at the demanding passion, opening your mouth to him.  He kisses you dizzy, seems to swallow every gasp then give your breath back to you. 

Your jacket hits the floor.  Your shoes come off in your mad backwards scramble.  

He grabs the front of your nightdress and tears it right down the middle.  You squeak with surprise but not embarrassment, too hot and needy for that.   You let the fabric float to the floor as he puts his hands back on you. 

The length of your naked body presses to his clothed one.  You moan, every inch of you sensitive to the sensation of leather and lace. 

His hands cup your sides and slide down, down and around, guiding your back into an arch.  His hand slides further, covers your ass and squeezes a curve like it’s always been his to do so. 

He kisses you the whole time. 

“C’mere,” he says against your mouth, like you aren’t already pressed against him, your arms around his neck, your bare breasts rubbing against his barely-there shirt. 

Then you realize what he means as he closes the last important distance, his hand sliding down your front and between your thighs.  You gasp against his mouth as his fingers slip through all that wet desire. 

“That’s it,” he says.  “That’s my girl.  You can open your legs for me, just like that, yeah.”

You step apart.  He puts his booted foot between yours, nudges them even further apart.  You tip your head back and thrust your hips forward, riding the rhythm he starts with his hand.  It is just a surface touch, just stroking you, just letting you soak his hand as your body opens up for him.   

“Just like that,” he says.  His other hand is on your lower back, keeping you steady.  “I got you.  You can come for me.  I got you, I got you.” 

You know it’s true.  The truth of that promise has been a constant for years.  You are his and he will take care of you. 

You come with another swipe of his fingers.  He holds you upright, taking the brunt of your weight as your legs get weak. 

You are still shaking, still coming down from that high, when he twists his wrist and slides two fingers inside you.  It is an easy touch, your body so ready and open, but it still makes you gasp.  You clench around him like your body is desperate to pull him in, like it needs him there more than anything. 

“Mhm,” he says, his mouth against your scent-mark, kissing and licking and sighing.  He sways a little, almost like he’s drunk, but the only scent on him is a raging arousal pheromone and that masculine cologne and leather.  And, despite the swaying, he stays planted on his feet, and his hand never ceases its thorough, pounding touch.  “Can take it, can’t you, love,” he murmurs, his voice vibrating against your scent-mark in a dizzying sensation, “Show me, sweetheart.  Show me, yeah?  Show me how you’ll take my cock, hmm?”

You aren’t even trying, your body is racing ahead of you, clenching sporadically around him as he takes you apart with a few flicks of his wrist.  He knows when he has you, takes you right over the edge then moves his hand as wet gushes between your trembling thighs. 

You cling to his shoulders, all but sobbing as the intense orgasm washes over you in a tidal wave.    

“Aha, that’s my girl,” he says, and bites your scent-mark again. 

If your voice was not already shot, you might have screamed with the pleasure of it.  As it is, your mouth opens and your chest heaves with every deep breath.  He leaves a bruising bite mark on your throat, one that will tell every alpha who so much as breathes too close to you that you belong to him. 

He keeps rubbing his fingers between your legs to prove it. 

“Chan,” you whine, “I can’t – I can’t—”

“Oh, love,” he says.  “Trust me, you can.  We’re just getting started.” 

He makes you come a third time in a matter of moments. This time, your legs fully give out, but he anticipates it.  He swings an arm under your knees and smoothly sweeps you off your feet.  You nuzzle against him, eyes closing, breathing hard as he carries you into the next room. 

His mattress is soon under you.   He has placed you in the middle of his bed and is standing there, looking down at you with a dimpled smile.  He takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilts your head back.  His next kiss is sweet, tender warmth suffusing your body. 

You lean back on your elbows while he finally pries that leather jacket off his shoulders.  He tries to unbutton his shirt but then you inch your legs apart and his gaze is irrevocably drawn there.  He hesitates only a moment before tearing through his shirt too, tossing the scraps on the floor.  He doesn’t even look at the boots as he pries them off, then he practically flies onto the bed, crawling over you, his dark pants tented obscenely. 

He is an intimidating bulk of power, making you throb with desire, but also making you instinctively close your legs.  It’s like your body wants the game, knows how to speak the alpha inside him, beckoning him with every tip of your head and tease of your thighs. 

He makes a low noise, almost a growl, then his hands are on your knees and he is pushing your thighs apart.  He fits himself between them, lays you down flat, his teeth at your throat as he grinds against you. 

“Don’t get shy,” he says, just short of a command, making you swallow.  “Not with me, yeah?”

You nod rapidly.  “Yes,” you say.

He grabs your throat, guides you, makes you look at him. 

“Yes?” he asks, a dark brow lifted. 

“Yes, alpha,” you rasp, staring back into his eyes.  His grip is not mean, not really choking, just possessive, just tight enough you feel him wrapped so soundly around you. 

Your eyes, gazing back at him so devotedly, softens his face so much.  He is all yours, your best friend, your alpha, your Chan, and he smiles that dimpled smile even with his far less innocent hand on your pulse. 

“Wanted you for so long, love,” he says. 

Somehow, that is the remark that makes you squirm the most, clawing at the bedsheets under you, lifting your hips against him.  You can’t move much farther than that, even though you are desperate for more action and less talking.  He has you completely at his mercy. 

As he always has, and reveals how much he knows it.

“Even on you suppressants,” he says, “You know when I’d go into rut, you’d react every time, like you knew before me?  Would be standing in my kitchen… wearing my hoodie… standing there in your little shorts… and you’d stretch up on your toes to reach for something and I’d come up behind you to help… and you’d scent it, wouldn’t you, love?  Because your hips would pitch backwards like your pussy was looking for my knot even while your mind was suppressing it…”

“Mmffph,” is the noise you make, the only noise you are capable of, as you rut your hips against his bulge. 

Your eyes feel huge and wide, staring into his.  Despite his words, his gaze is still affectionate, his smile still soft. 

“Stop squirming,” he says, giving your throat one more squeeze before he gets up and kneels between your spread legs.  He finally pries open his belt and opens his pants while you arch your back.  “I said no squirming,” he repeats, grabbing your hips.  “Want you to hear my words, love, you know why?”

You shake your head, breath stuttering as he gets his pants down his hips.  Your eyes go his cock, to his hand stroking the full length it, wet at the tip, back up again, and down…

He reaches with his other hand, grabs your chin and makes you meet his gaze again. 

“Because,” he says, “your heat will end sooner or later, yeah?  But what I’m telling you right now?” 

He leans over you, guides your hands to his bare shoulders and hovers his mouth above your scent-mark.  He is hot and hard between your thighs, so close, so close, so close— 

“Those words are me fucking that pretty mind of yours,” he says. 

And you gasp as he slams inside you in one hard thrust. 

“And you’ll remember them,” he says, fucking you with every word, “every – fucking – time – you – look – at – me.  And every time you think about it…” He licks over your sore scent-mark, making you clench around him again and again. “Every time you look at me, I’ll be fucking you all – over – again.” 

You come with another spasming wave, legs and arms wrapped so tightly around him while he fucks you through it.  His words register somewhere deep inside you, further even than where his cock is hitting so hard and deep. 

You know, even in your heat-brained animalistic state, that he is right:

He’s inside you now, and you’ll never be able to go without him again. 

“Oh, Chan,” you say, sighing his name in the most worshipful, loving voice you can muster. 

He returns all that affection, kissing you deeply, spreading your thighs, and swelling inside you.  Your body opens for him, clings to him, pulls him deep inside and keeps him there, his knot hard and pulsing. 

He kisses you softly, then kisses your scent-mark too.  You squeeze him tight in your arms. 

Then he lifts his head.  You look at each other, breathing hard, bodies joined as thoroughly as your hearts and minds. 

You smile.  He smiles back, that friendly smile you know so well, only it softens with a new kind of affection. 

“My love,” he says.   

“My alpha,” you tease. 

His smile deepens and leans down, kissing you again.  You gasp when he thrusts a little, so swollen and huge inside you, and your brain gets dizzy again. 

and you started hanging out on and off campus a lot more frequently after that— gradually falling more and more in love until yuji finally gathered up his jumpy nerves and asked you to be his girlfriend.

there was a problem though.

neither of you had had sex before, or had done anything in between the lines with other people before you got together.

it was the first thing that yuji worried about when he first started dating you— embarrassed and afraid that you would think he was a big fat loser with no game and that he would potentially run the risk of losing you, you maybe preferring a man of experience to match your own needs.

but when he admitted that to you, and when you shook your worried little head and told him you were in the same exact boat as him, he was fucking elated— his apprehensions crumbling down like a landslide and replaced instead with the giddiness of getting to do stuff with you for the first time ever, and him being the man (the only man ever he hoped) to get to do it to you.

but then there was another problem.

neither of you seemed to want to start anything, the both of you hesitant and scared because of your lack of experience— petrified of humiliating yourselves if one of you tried and pathetically failed at it or did something incorrectly.

“mhm! fine.” you smiled sweetly, your calm voice a completely different contrast to what was currently happening inside your reeling fuzzy brain.

you had both definitely talked about it, the subject of intimacy. but it was always something that the two of you reassured each other would happen eventually when you were both ready, that there was no rush— choosing to brush the subject off like it was nothing.

except it wasn’t nothing. it was never nothing. and you were both way past fucking ready, especially yuji, him practically ripping apart at the seams with horn dog need anytime he saw you wear those little skirts that you like so much, or whenever you’d straddle his lap during one of your daily makeout sessions— his hands literally trembling over your ass in attempts at being respectful of pretty ol’ you, settling for placing them on your upper back instead.

and you would internally pout, disappointed, because you always without fail noticed all of this yet you were too shy to mention anything or do something about it on your own.

“you sure?” he asked softly. “you look like you’re thinking about something.”

he raised a hand and gently poked your cheek repeatedly with his index finger, a silly smile on his face. “tell me baby tell me baby tell me baby—”

you giggled, “i’m okay! just zoned out.” you pushed his finger away, leaning up and pressing a quick shy kiss to his cheek that made him instantly flush pink in return, a wobbly smile spreading across his face.

in the midst of you retreating back to your previous position, yuji caught your chin with his fingers and turned you to look at him, your cheeks blushing as he stared at you with lovesick dreamy eyes.

“can we— um.” his gaze flickered to your lips. “can we make out.”

your eyes widened slightly and your hands grew clammy fast, cheeks buzzing as you stared back at him.

since making out was the only thing you both properly conquered, it happened almost every single time you saw each other, the act practically filling in and making up for the more lewd exchanges you both were missing out on, your kisses always sloppy and messy but heated— though each time it came around to it you were often just as nervous as the first time.

“s—sure!” you stammered. “you don’t have to ask me yuji… you can just— y’know… do it..”

he bit his tongue, your timidness for some fucking reason sending a shock of arousal through his veins and straight down to his dick as he tried his best to swallow it and not make it obvious for you.

“okay!”

he brought your face closer then and kissed you, a solid one at first, until you slowly parted your lips and ushered him in, deeper, your body moving closer to his on its own as he immediately responded with placing a hand on your leg to throw it over his lap, your mouths wet and slippery as he properly settled you to sit on him.

you wrapped your arms around his neck, the movie drowned out completely in the background as a sequence of lip smackings echoed throughout the room, yuji’s hands on your upper back like always as you continued to make out… until you felt a little stinging cramp in your knee— moving your hips a little bit to readjust, utterly unaware of how you accidentally applied pressure over yuji’s crotch as he sucked in a breath through his nose and pulled away.

“fuck don’t do that baby don’t do that.”

you froze, hands quickly retracting back to your chest. “what? what do what?”

“oh—” he froze, eyes wide and cheeks pink as his mouth opened and closed like a fishy out of water.

he couldn’t possibly tell you why, not wanting to scare you away by admitting that you grinding down on his crotch like that made his dick jerk and mind haze in the most filthy and perverted way imaginable, feeling like he wanted to dig himself a big fat grave of horny shame to throw himself into as he watched your pretty eyes look at him the way that they were, wanting that same look but underneath him instead—

your bent knee cramped up once more and you hissed, moving your hips again except this time harder, yuji’s eyes flying open as the grip around your upper torso tightened, a strangled whiny hum escaping his throat.

your eyes snapped to his at the sound, now feeling something hard poking your clothed pussy as your brain finally put fucking two and two together, your hand slapping over your mouth in embarrassment at what you did and over your stupid delayed realization.

“oh! yuji i’m so sorry i— i didn’t realize—”

he shook his head rapidly, his cheeks and ears red as he shakily smoothed his hands over your hips comfortingly.

“no baby! don’t be sorry it’s okay!” he quickly kissed your forehead. “i—it’s me… it’s not you at all…”

but there was something else behind his eyes, something you couldn’t quite pinpoint as he just stared at the place where your body met his crotch, hands slowly gripping your hips tighter in a certain way and… and actually moving you now in a certain way that made you promptly realize he was grinding you against him, pleasure quickly twitching at your clit in response as flat hands flew to his chest to stabilize yourself.

“what— what are you doing?” you stammered, your chest heaving a little.

“s—sorry!…” he mumbled, eyes still trained to the same area. “it just— felt kind of good… so..”

yuji peered up at you, a cautious look on his face as he eyed you curiously with his pinky cheeks bright— hesitantly indulging in his overwhelming sick need for you, as simply making out was just not cutting it anymore ever since he got a taste of how something like this could feel a couple of seconds ago.

and your thoughts were identical to his.

timidly, you slid your hands up slowly to rest back on his manly shoulders, the rough material of his compression tee under your fingers making you literally squeeze your hole around nothing, eyes nervously darting around his face.

“o—okay…”

his hand came up to brush some of your soft hair over your shoulder, his thumb moving in to caress gently over your hot cheek.

“can i… can i do it again?”

you shakily nodded, and he gripped your hips again before moving you just like he did before, your crotch coming down to meet his slowly and cautiously as your mouth partially hung open at how good it actually felt, yuji staring at your expression with blown out pupils and nearly drooling over it.

but he wanted more, his hands moving you then to grind on him a little faster, his hips coming up to meet yours at the same time as you shyly met him halfway— quick and stuttery until all of a sudden you were full blown humping into each other like rabid dogs, your tiny whiny moans setting him the fuck off as he captured your lips again to make out with you, fearing if he let you quietly moan like that for his ears to selfishly drink up that he was going to end up busting in his pants.

“y—yuji…” you whimpered in between kisses.

“yeah baby?” his husky voice sent another electrical shock of ecstasy through your body, your fingers gripping his shirt in tiny fists as you didn’t even know what exactly you were pleading him for.

but he knew.

he wrapped his arms entirely around you and moved so that you were laying flat on your back now, yuji in between your legs as he kissed you sloppily while grinding himself back on you again, him literally mimicking how it would be to fuck you as you squeezed his biceps for support, your thin pajama shorts feeling his hard cock bulging from his pj pants and rutting against your cunt desperately with every hump.

yuji, literally trapped in a dimension of arousal and nasty fucking thoughts of you with every moan that slipped past your puffy soft lips, had him reaching and tugging down on the waist band of your shorts like an animal, your baby blue panties with a little ribbon bow in the middle making him nearly choke on his spit.

your hand quickly came to clasp around his wrist, stopping him.

“y—yuji my parents! i don’t know if we should—”

“oh fuck—” he whispered, looking up to the top of your staircase and down where your parents were sound asleep, gnawing so much on his bottom lip in cock blocked agony that he accidentally drew blood.

and you didn’t know why, but the urge was unforgiving as you reached up and cupped his hot sweaty cheeks, pulling his face down as you stuck your tongue out and licked over his bleeding lip.

yuji stared, eyes wide, before he let out a low guttural grown and shoved his face into the crook of your neck.

“fuck fuck fuck fuck—”

you were fucking killing him.

he rolled his leaky cock slowly into you again, his shoulders trembling at the cold feeling of his wet boxers that were literally covered in pre cum the moment your pretty plush thighs sat over his lap, you speaking up.

“m—maybe—”

he pulled back fast.

“yeah?”

“maybe if you just— look. that… that should be fine, right?”

“yeah yeah!” yuji’s invisible tail was practically wagging over your words. “look uh huh! just look baby.”

you bit your lip, slowly reaching down and tugging as both of yuji’s hands went flying down to help you, pulling them over your thighs and down to your ankles before setting them behind him on the couch with a soft thud.

you kept your thighs closed, shy and timid as you realized yuji hadn’t seen you like this yet… your cheeks flaring in embarrassment as he pulled your knees apart and gawked at the vision before him, yuji looking at you like you had built the entirety of rome by yourself with your bare hands.

you hadn’t noticed yet, but your panties were drenched— a patch of wet spread over your lips that literally outlined the anatomy of your pussy to a t, leaving little to the imagination as his eyes stayed locked on your clit in a complete trance.

“oh my god, pretty!…” he murmured, his index finger coming down to softly touch and rub your puffed up clit over your panties, you squeaking in response and slamming your thighs closed again.

“sorry! sorry!” he sputtered, frantic as he came down to peck little kisses on your cheek apologetically, your eyes shut, bashful. “did that hurt? i didn’t mean to i’m sorry—”

“n—no!” you shook your head and slowly peeked your eyes open. “it didn’t… just felt s—sensitive.”

his shoulders relaxed in relief, nodding, his eyes widening in delight when you spread your legs back open for him again, your panties literally stuck slick to your pussy at this point.

yuji’s fingers pressed against your folds, him wanting to just feel the way your little wet lips mushed up against his digits, his curious hand directing him slowly up over your clit and back down by your virgin hole as he breathed hard through his nose, trying to get himself to calm the fuck down over your cunt and not freak you out.

but what he was doing felt good, him having no idea as you pulled your bottom lip in between your teeth with your eyebrows screwed together in euphoria, his ears perking up at the sounds of your sweet little moans and whines the more pressure he applied to it.

and then he got an idea.

as you were distracted getting riled up by his fingers, yuji shoved his other hand under his wet pajama pants and boxers, pulling out his throbbing cock and pumping it a little as his angry tip leaked with every jerk— a drop oozing down and landing right on your nub before rolling over your panties as he breathed out a string of hushed curses.

yuji replaced the hand on your pussy with his cock, his length and tip pushing up in between your sopping cunt and back down, completely soiling your panties with a mix of your arousal and his pre cum as he rolled his hips into you again, you not noticing at all until both of his rough hands came to grip and squeeze over your inner thighs, your eyes fluttering open as you wondered why it felt way better than before, them bulging once you saw his thick long dick slipping and sliding hurriedly against your pussy.

“b—baby!” you moaned breathlessly, but yuji literally could not hear you as his dazed droopy eyes stayed focused on your swollen puss while he continued to rut.

“uh huh..?..” he panted. “what’s wrong sweetheart…”

your words lodged themselves in the back of your throat as a particular rough thrust made you choke and clamp your mouth shut, squeezing your eyes shut in response with your sensitive nub pulsing as you felt yuji’s leaky sticky cum all over you.

“does it— does it feel good?” his eyes finally trailed up to look at you, his already fucked out expression and flushed face forming a yummy pit in your stomach that you recognized as your release whenever you fingered yourself, except that feeling no where near as good as what you felt right fucking now.

“mhm..” you moaned and licked your lips.

yuji’s fingers slid up from your inner thighs and to the straps of your panties, fiddling and playing with them as he rolled his hips like a little perv, his tip at times falling and literally sinking into your gaping virgin hole a bit— your panties a thin stretchy wall that frustratingly stopped his cock from going, slipping back upward instead.

“baby…” he moaned lowly, whispering. “maybe we should just have sex right now…”

you gasped. “right now?! i don’t know yuji my— my parents— and we’ve never—”

he leaned down and sloppily kissed you, speaking in between each smack.

“they’re asleep it’s—” mmphf— “it’s okay—”

yuji already had his middle finger hooked under your wet panties as he started pulling down, you squeaking at the cold breeze hitting your bare clit.

“i want to but— hic!”

he rubbed his tip over your entrance a bit, pooling your juice up.

“what if— what if we get too loud? and they come downstairs—”

he shook his head. “i’ll keep on a lookout pretty don’t worry about it...” he murmured. “you just relax while i pump my cock in, yeah?”

you whimpered, nodding quickly and pathetically as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down flush against your chest, suctioning tiny sucks on his jaw to keep you from moaning the loudest you’ve moaned all night as he started pushing in, yuji’s mind in a literal fucking state of delirium as his dick was finally gonna be buried in your cute pussy after wanting it for so long.

you hiccuped against his jaw, your arms gripping him tighter as he stretched you out so good, feeling a little pinch in your walls that made you spread your legs wider in attempts at alleviating it.

“ohhhh fuckkkk baby—” he moaned loud and you quickly clamped a hand over his mouth.

“shhh honey shhh—”

“m’sorry m’sorry m’sorry—”

his voice was muffled against your hand as he pumped deeper, your squeal catching itself in your throat and his body fucking shivering at the way your tight slobbering walls sucked him in without him having to even push, your hole clenching around him and pumping more strings of stray pre cum out inside you.

“my god do that again please do that again—” he panted, reeling his hips back slowly and pushing in at a steady rhythm.

“d—do what?” you panted, your eyes closing in pleasure.

“squeeze— shit!— squeeze me please please—” he begged, pressing wet open mouthed kisses on your cheeks as he licked up your little overstimulated tears.

“like— like this?”

you clenched your hole again and his body jerked, his choked moans huffing in your ear as he rolled and snapped his hips faster.

“mm! yuji my god—” you squealed and he placed a hand over your mouth, the both of you now covering over each others as he proceeded to drill his hips in, the couch squeaking with every messy hit.

your hand tightened over his lips the louder he moaned, your eyes silently pleading with him to be a little quieter, but him too lost in the milking of his cock and the way your fucked out face looked as he couldn’t connect the dots with what you were asking of him, suddenly your blurry brain coming into reasonable consciousness for a second as you became aware of the fact that you weren’t even using protection.

“b—baby—” you muffled against his hand. “we’re not using a— mmm! c—condom we need—”

smack smack smack—

“shit i don’t— i don’t have one sweetheart.” he stifled, and yuji only went faster then, harder and jerky as his awkward virgin hips jolted you up and down on him, your eyes rolling back. “s’okay i’ll just pull out m’kay? i’ll pull out—”

his snappy pace brought your brain back into your previous dumb erotic state, nodding dazedly as he scooched his hand down and shoved his middle and ring finger inside your wet mouth, your tongue slobbering over his digits before your lips lewdly closed around them and sucked.

yuji was not keeping a lookout for your parents.

“oh fuck baby you look so fucking pretty doing that…” he choked. “you look so so pretty under me and taking my dick—”

“mhm..” you moaned around his fingers, drool seeping out of your mouth and down your chin as you felt like you were on the brink of cumming and squelching all over him.

“i’m gonna pull out soon okay? i feel—” pant— “i feel like i’m cumming—”

you pulled back from his fingers with a pop and licked your lips, nodding vigorously as you squeezed your eyes painfully shut, your release washing over you like a prickly wave with your mouth hung wide open and your vision blowing bright white.

but in the midst of you creaming, you accidentally clamped your thighs shut around yuji as he tried to slip his dick out.

“fuck! i can’t—” pant— “baby open your legs please im gonna— fuck fuck fuck!—”

yuji’s cum pummeled inside you and filled you the absolute brim as he gasped and whined in your ear, his balls draining so much of it into you that it took no time at all for it to slip past your hole and onto your couch below, the both of you heaving heavily with your clothes stuck against your sweaty sticky bodies.

“are you—” he swallowed. “are you okay baby? i’m sorry i came inside—”

“it’s okay it wasn’t you—” you tried to regulate your breathing. “it— it was my fault… i trapped you in…”

you sheepishly looked at him and gnawed at the inside of your cheek in shame, your face only making him lazily grin and press a hard loving kiss to your cheek.

“it’s okay. we can figure it out later!”

he peeled away from you and sat up, his softening cock still buried inside as he slowly pulled out and watched the rest of his cum spurt out, taking one of his shaky fingers and collecting some before pushing it back in your hole.

“don’t put it back in yujiiii!” you whined.

“sorry! sorry sorry—” he grabbed your wrist gently and kissed the back of your hand, his pinky cheeks vibrant as he looked at you with a wobbly shy smile. “i— i couldn’t help myself…”

you giggled. “s’okay honey.”

he laid his body back over yours, being mindful not to squish you as he leaned some of his weight on his arms, cutely pecking your puffy lips over and over until he was satisfied with the amount, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck after.

“m’glad my first time was with you yuji…” you murmured into his ear, your words causing his heart to literally bang against his chest as he felt like he was on cloud nine with you underneath him like that.

“i’m glad it was with you pretty.” he pushed, looking into your fucked out eyes with sincerity. “and i hope it stays that way. just my dick.”

you laughed loudly, your hand quickly coming up to cover your mouth as he giggled.

you pecked his nose sweetly and readjusted your hips, your cum covered pussy brushing against his cock again, the blood immediately rushing back to it faster than a speeding fucking bullet.

he traced a loving finger across your bottom lip delicately, a little grin on his face.

you quirked a brow. “what?”

“can we um—“ he quickly kissed you. “can we try doggy style right now?”

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊

taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):

Until your words were slurred and your inhibitions out the window, until Sevika was murmuring, “So. You and Silco - “ and you were nodding along like a simpleton, playing into her hand like one of those sheltered Pilties you used to poke fun at. 

Admitting to your relationship with Silco was one thing, embarrassing but inevitable considering most of his cronies had been gossiping about you two for months now, but confessing that you’d never actually kissed him, kissed anyone -

You grimaced. Shitty excuse for a bartender you were, singing like a canary after a handful of booze. 

The front door creaked open, and you winced at the shriek of ungreased hinges before lifting your head in preparation for snapping that the place wasn’t open yet, thanks very fucking much. 

“Rough night?” Silco’s voice cut smoothly through the empty bar, his thin, wiry frame cutting an intimidating figure in the doorway. 

Your stomach dropped. “Something like that,” you muttered, as nonchalantly as you could manage.

Silco hummed thoughtfully, his shoes clicking against the floor as he made his way toward the bar. “So I’ve heard.”

You froze, fingers tightening around the glass in your hand. Did that mean - ? Had Sevika actually - ?

As if your brain were mocking you, an image of Sevika’s face flashed across your mind, her expression deviously amused as she plied you with those stupid fucking shots. 

Snitch, you thought venomously, glowering at the bar top. If you had half as many muscles as she did, you’d throw a punch the next time you saw her. You might do it anyway, consequences be damned. 

You might also skip town, depending on the next words out of Silco’s mouth. 

“It certainly explains a few things,” the older man mused, and though you could not see his face, determined to keep your eyes on the glass and the rag clutched tightly between your fingers, you could feel the weight of his gaze as it settled over you.

“Oh?” You forced your fingers into motion in a vain attempt to distract yourself from wherever this conversation was heading, though they faltered as soon as you heard the creak of a stool and the muted thud of Silco’s elbows settling on the bar top. 

“I had my suspicions, you know.”

Your eyes jumped up to meet his. You didn’t have to ask what he meant. “Is that why you’ve never - ?” 

Kissed me?

Silco’s head dipped in acknowledgement and some part of you - a quiet but insistent voice that had equated his lack of advances for a lack of interest - finally fell silent.

“And that doesn’t… bother you?“ you asked, picking over your words carefully. 

Silco’s eyes - pale blue and vivid orange - caught yours. “Should it?”

Your lips thinned. “I don’t know,” you muttered, abandoning your glass - long clean - on the counter. “Certainly seemed to bother Sevika.” Amused, more like<, your mind corrected, and you frowned, reminded of the woman’s shit-eating grin from the night before. 

Silco’s lips twitched. “It bothers you,” he opined, quite correctly, and you huffed as you scrubbed at the bartop with sharp, uneven strokes over the flat, chipped surface.

“It doesn’t bother me,” you insisted, even as your mind - which had begun to sound remarkably like Sevika, god damn it - crowed liar. “It’s just - “ Embarrassing. Ridiculous. Terrifying. A lump grew in your throat. “It’s nothing,” you finished lamely, tossing your rag beneath the counter to be washed later. 

Silence settled between you. You glowered at the bar top, feeling like little more than a petulant child, and then -

“Come here.”

Your head shot up, heart thumping once you met Silco’s expectant gaze. You waited for the fear to settle in, the sick rush of dread - What if I’m terrible at it? What if I mess it up? What if what if what if - ? - and though it was there, razing along your nerves, there was also something else. Relief, maybe, now that your not-so-secret shame had finally been exposed, but also something like excitement. Anticipation. Need.

You moved.

Silco’s presence felt larger, somehow, the closer you drew, your perception limited to the width of his shoulders and the length of his torso, his piercing gaze and the space between his splayed knees, where you settled with a quickening pulse and warm cheeks. 

“Go on,” he urged, his voice a low rasp along your nerves. “Touch me.”

Your breath caught in your throat, that old, familiar terror muted beneath a sudden, suffocating wave of want. 

You lifted a hand, fingers slipping along the edge of one sharp cheekbone. The huff of Silco’s breath was warm along your wrist, his gaze trained on yours as you took a step closer, as your fingers found the hinge of his jaw, as they curled, tugged, as you closed your eyes, as you pursed your lips, as you pressed them to his - 

Your heart climbed into your throat at the first, tentative brush of his mouth against yours, the slight dryness of his lips steadily giving way to a softness that tingled through your nerves as your mouths met, retreated, and met again. You could feel his jaw moving beneath your hand, feel the gentle push and give as his lips parted against yours, feel the rumble of a sigh as he breathed, the intimacy of the act doing as much to upend you as the sensations themselves.

And then his tongue was flicking along the seam of your lips, pushing through to curl against yours, and your mind seemed to fizzle, emptying of all but the gentle pressure of his mouth, the slickness of his tongue, the dizzying heat of him beneath your hands -

You are thinking about it when he returns from his work-out, muscles straining in his black tank shirt, body damp with sweat, and looking like pure, unadulterated sex.  Chan and Jisung are huddled around a laptop in the living room, their entrepreneurial endeavours a seemingly endless chore, and they are so engrossed in their work they don’t see you leave. 

You sneak off to your room to change, ditching your shorts and underclothes, slipping into one of Changbin’s old t-shirts and absolutely nothing else.  

You intend to hunt him down after his shower, but it’s Changbin who comes to you.  He ambles casually into your bedroom without knocking, comfortable and relaxed and at home.  You have your own rooms for personal space but you all come and go as you please.

Your room is dimly lit with strings of fairy lights, the bed crowded with pillows and teddy bears, not to mention a big strong boyfriend who makes himself at home.  Changbin is dressed in sweatpants and a black t-shirt, his hair blow-dried soft and fluffy, but body as bulky and powerful as ever. 

“Look at this,” he says, holding out his phone.  A sweater you were eyeing has gone on sale so he sits on your bed and buys it for you without hesitation.   He giggles to himself with all that self-satisfied delight, teasing that he is the best boyfriend and your number one favourite. 

He knows the truest harmony lies among the four of you, together, always, but he likes to tease.

You like to tease back. 

“Be careful, you big bully,” you say, because he plops himself down at the head of the bed, knocking a teddy bear over.  You pick it up and aggressively shove it back into place. 

He quirks an eyebrow, his giggling joviality replaced with a studious expression.  He seems to finally notice what you are wearing, blinking his gaze up and down your body as you rearrange the pillows behind him. 

You bat your eyelashes, all playful innocence.

“Don’t be so serious,” he says.  He deliberately knocks a teddy onto the floor. 

You playfully gasp, bending over with a flourish and flashing him. 

“Ah,” he says, putting his phone on your bedside table.  “It’s like that?” 

“I don’t know what you mean,” you say, blinking. 

“Hm,” he says, giving you another quick once-over.  “Okay.”  

Changbin hauls you over his shoulder and wrestles you onto the bed.  He puts you on your back, upside down so your head is near the foot.  He climbs right on top of you, not an inch of muscle budging even when you thud your fists against his firm chest.    

“Binnie,” you say, wriggling underneath him, the t-shirt riding up your thighs.  “You’re crushing me, you big mean brute.” 

“Brute,” he says, laughing.  He grabs your hips and pins you to the mattress.  “Tsk.  You like it like that.” 

“No, I – ah!”

Changbin never hesitates.  He knows you will tell him if you don’t like something.  It’s a game of trust, full of an all encompassing love that boasts such tender affection beneath each action.  Being with Changbin is like being nestled in blankets by a warm fire on a snowy winter’s day.  You are sheltered in the storm, feeling that protection even more keenly because of the dangerous cold.    

Between you, there is nothing but heat. 

He gathers the hem of the t-shirt and shoves it up, past the skin of your tummy, exposing your thighs and all the bare softness between them.  Oh, yes, all softness against his hard body, the thickness of his biceps as he holds you down, his big thighs shoved between your open legs, broad shoulders relentless and ungiving even where you smack him repeatedly. 

“Binnie, be careful,” you say, trying to close your legs around his hips. 

You gasp when he puts a hand up your shirt, squeezing your breast in the cup of his palm. His mean fingers immediately find the stiffening peak, thumb tormenting you while you whine. 

You buck as if you want to throw him off, but he is right where you want him and he knows it.  He knows you, your body like a well-loved instrument, his strong hands drawing every musical gasp and sigh out of you. 

“Where’s your panties, hm?” he asks.  Undeterred by your continuous bucking and writhing, he slides his hands down to your naked hips.  He was slouched half-on top of you but he gets up on his knees now.  He pushes your thighs apart, forcing his hips between them. 

“Shameful,” he says.   He tries to grab your flailing hands to no avail.  You smack his chest and shoulders, dodging the reach of his fingers. 

He smacks your face, a tap hard enough to register the game has really begun, but not so hard to sting for long.  You still gasp, your hands pausing.  It gives him time to work a hand between your open thighs. 

“Ahh—!” 

“Yah, look at you,” he says, rubbing his fingers through your wet pussy without finesse or gentleness.  You twitch every time his knuckle rides over your clit.   “Bad girl,” he says.  “Who are you so wet for?” 

He gives you no time to answer, scooting back to drag you to the middle of the bed. You are still upside down, your pillows and teddies piled behind him, all the dreaminess of your girly lace bedroom in contrast to his stark masculinity.  It makes your whole body thrum with arousal, hot from the tips of your toes to the crown of your head.  You feel him even where he is not touching you.  

Where he is touching you, you burn, heart erratic with anticipation as he squeezes your thighs, as he shoves your hands out of his way, as he uses his thumbs to spread your pussy open to his gaze. 

“Ah – Binnie—!”  You get louder.  Your bedroom door is open.  Chan and Jisung might be focussed on their work, but not for long, not if you keep this up.  Still, to speed things along, you scream, “Chan!  Channie!  Ch—hmmph!”

Changbin shoves a pillow in your face, holding it there, smothering you to soften your shrieks.  His other hand is on your thigh – no, slipping higher, a surface touch through all that wet desire.  Then his blunt fingers are inside you.  You moan into the pillow, clenching around the thrust of his fingers.  You get dizzy quickly, partially because of the pillow, partially his skilled hand. 

He abruptly lifts the pillow.  The oxygen goes straight to your head, as intoxicating as a kiss.  You realize you are close to coming already, hiccupping with all that sudden breath as he fucks his fingers into you. 

Changbin is relentless.   You smack his chest but he ignores it, his strong arm keeping a steady momentum.  An orgasm builds and builds, your fingers hooking into his t-shirt for some leverage.  He puts a hand on your belly and holds you down.  He feels so strong and heavy, utterly unmovable, and it makes falling apart so much easier. 

“Didn’t you have something to say to Chan?” he says. 

You gasp and turn your head.  Sure enough, Chan is standing there, watching you.  Changbin does it on purpose, knowing when you are close, so you look at Chan just as the orgasm crests.  

Chan is standing beside the bed, dressed in his basketball shorts and a sleeveless black shirt, a baseball cap over his curly dark hair.   He must have entered the room while the pillow was on your face, and now he is standing there, watching Changbin hold you down and fuck you with his hand. 

“Channie, please—” you say, then you come all over Changbin’s fingers.  You cry out because he keeps tormenting you, thumb shaking back-and-forth across your throbbing clit.  “Ah, Binnie—Channie, please!”

Chan gives Changbin a look, his eyebrow quirked, then he just leans towards the open door and whistles.  It’s a sharp, high whistle, a call to attention. 

“Han,” he says, not even very loud.  Chan never needs to shove or force or yell.  When Chan says come, you come. 

You always obey Chan.  You throw your head back, gasping as you come a second time.  It is so soon after the first orgasm that it feels like one long, rolling wave.  It continues to shudder through you, even after Changbin slips his hand out. 

The shirt is still shoved up your tummy, soft skin and wet pussy on display.   Chan does not look away, reaching blindly behind himself for your desk chair.  He yanks it closer to the bed and plops down, taking off his cap and tossing it on the floor.   He is bare-faced, expression so open and honest, but a hunger in his eyes that darkens his whole face. 

Changbin just looks giddy.  You look at him as he giggles, that funny little chortle leaving that buff body.  Then you realize he is rolling his sweatpants down. 

“Channie!” you yelp, shrieking and twisting while Changbin licks his palm and strokes his cock, his other hand effortlessly holding you down. 

Chan slouches in the chair.  He props an elbow on the arm-rest and puts his chin in his palm.  His other hand slips under the waistband of his shorts. 

“Careful, baby,” Chan says, seconds before Changbin smacks you again.  It is within your limit, but still enough to turn your head on impact.

Like before, it breaks your concentration, and Changbin takes the opportunity to grab your hips, line up, and shove his cock inside you.  Chan and Jisung always give you a minute to adjust, the size of a hard cock definitely different from fingers, but Changbin never waits.  Even while you wince and complain, he fucks you through it, gripping your hips hard and ignoring your hands pushing against his chest. 

“Too much, Binnie,” you say, even though the sting is quickly passing.  You’re so wet and it makes it easy for him to fuck you.  It even sounds messy, every thrust opening you up, getting you even wetter, the bed creaking as he pulls you onto his cock over and over. 

You look over at Chan who is still watching, the shape of his hand and his dick so clear through the material of his shorts as he fists his cock slowly. 

You hiccup as Changbin switches from long, deep strokes to short, pounding ones. 

At which point Jisung finally walks in, yapping about work, saying, “I was thinking we could postpone the meeting to Monday and—oh, hi, WHAAAT, we’re having sex in here?  All right, man, okay, that’s cool, all right, what’s up.”   

Oh, your sweet Jisung.  He is also in house clothes, black shorts and a sleeveless white shirt, dark hair feathering through his fingers as he runs his hand through it.  He walks further into the room, kicking the door closed behind himself for no reason.  His attention is firmly fixed on you, holding your gaze while Changbin fucks you.  The unmoving intensity of those big brown eyes leaves you tingling, a swoop in your belly that feels as thorough as a good fuck.  It crashes into the feeling of Changbin inside you, makes your whole body get tight so Changbin groans and curses. 

“Oh,” is all you can say.  You cover your face with both hands, gasping when Changbin goes back to longer, deeper thrusts. 

“Heyyy, baby, why are you hiding?” Jisung says in his sweetest voice. 

You hear him approaching, even above the sound of you getting fucked, above Changbin’s little grunts, above Chan cursing.   You feel the dip of the mattress when Jisung climbs up on the bed, sitting near your head.  Then his hands are on your wrists, prying them away from your face.   You try to wrestle them back but he holds them calmly, his own arms boasting a subtle musculature as he pins your hands to the mattress to stop you from moving. 

“Yes,” Changbin says.  “Like that.  Come on.” 

“Jisungie,” you whine, looking down at where Changbin is driving into you, feeling each thrust deeper than your pussy, all the way up to your throat.  You tip your head back, looking at Jisung upside down. 

He leans down, his hair swooping forward, tickling your face as he kisses your forehead and temple. 

“It’s okay, baby,” he says.  Despite his soft voice, he does not lighten his grip, your hands still locked in place.  “Does it hurt?” he asks, wide-eyed. 

“Mmm,” you say, nodding, even while shuddering with so much pleasure that a tear spills down your cheek. 

“Aww,” he says, licking that tear track, making every nerve spasm.  “You’re so cute, baby.” 

“She gets tighter when you choke her,” Chan says.

“Awww,” Jisung says.   He releases one hand to reach for you.  He wraps his fingers delicately around your throat, not even squeezing at first, just a caress as his hand curls around you. 

Your adrenaline naturally peaks, body clenching, just like Chan said.  Changbin groans his satisfaction and Jisung tightens his grip, keeping you pinned by the throat while Changbin goes still, coming inside you. 

“Fuck,” Chan says. 

Jisung releases your throat and you suck in a shaky breath.  It is interrupted when Jisung swoops in, kissing your lips upside down.  You squirm under the confusing messiness of his open mouth at this angle. 

He comes up with a breath, one as shaky as your own, ravished from a kiss.  He runs his hand through his hair and nods to Changbin, saying, “Turn her around.” 

Two pairs of hands find you, manhandling you so easily between them.  You yelp, startled by the movement, as they lift you up and turn you around so your head is in Changbin’s lap and Jisung is now the one between your legs. 

Changbin hoists you into his arms, holds you in the cradle of his bicep as Jisung lays down between your open legs. 

This is one area that Jisung never hesitates to indulge, his open mouth descending on your pussy with ravenous excitement. 

You are so, so sensitive down there, almost numb beneath the first few searching swipes. 

He presses his whole mouth there, moaning as he sucks on your clit then licks up and down, back and forth, around and around.  His tongue rubs where Changbin just came, circling your sensitive hole, pressing there then licking back up to your already throbbing clit. 

“Can’t come again,” you say, not entirely sure if it comes out coherent because your eyes are closed and your brain feels fuzzy.   

He answers with a hum.  He does not seem to be eating you out with the intention of making you come, but purely for his own pleasure as he sucks and licks and tastes.  Despite that – and despite your words – you feel a tightening in your belly, a dull throb that feels too feels too deep to reach. 

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Changbin says when you start to writhe, his big arm wrapped around your neck, holding you tight to his beating heart. 

The thud of that heart, the relentless flick of Jisung’s tongue, and Chan’s approving nod makes your thighs press around Jisung’s head. 

“Oh—” is your last word before you come again, bucking hard against Jisung’s face.  You gasp and cling to Changbin’s arm. 

Jisung keeps licking at you, not relenting until your gasping whine is more of a scream.   Then he kisses your thighs and hips before pushing himself up onto his knees. 

He and Changbin wordlessly work together, sitting you upright to remove your only article of clothing.   Both pairs of hands find you again, touching and groping and stimulating everywhere. 

You shudder under all the sensation, eyes closing, rocking against nothing.  You are desperate to close your legs to relieve the tension, but Jisung is kneeling between them.  Fortunately, he knows you well, his hand sliding down there, fingers finding you, curling into you. 

“You’re soo wet, baby, it’s embarrassing,” he says.  “You need it that bad?” 

He is still using his sweetest voice, like he doesn’t know he is about to utterly wreck your shit.  Because Jisung always does without very much effort, simply by effect of having the biggest dick you have ever taken.   It is part of the reason you usually can’t start with him, or why he takes his time when you do, because it is an aching endeavour whenever he tries to fit all that inside you. 

Even the bulge in his shorts is obscene, the material rubbing against your thighs.  He brings your hand to that bulge and groans when you squeeze it, saying, “That’s it, that’s it—”

He leans over you.  It sounds like he and Changbin might be kissing above your head, sloppily at that.  Jisung is probably shoving his tongue into Changbin’s mouth, the same tongue that was just inside you as it licked up the mess that Changbin made.   

They press you between their bodies in an envelope of desire, utterly dominating your senses.  Changbin smells like his shampoo, a deep scent like mahogany, while Jisung tends to douse himself in cologne, faded now at the end of the day but still a rich, expensive smell.  Beneath all that is that simple sweat, bodies getting worked up, raw sex overwhelming all those other scents. 

You breathe them in, whimpering because you are pressed so tightly between them. You can feel Jisung twitching in your hand and Changbin beginning to stiffen again at your backside. 

 There is a wet pop and a shared gasp when they stop kissing.  Jisung grabs your face and pulls you up, his mouth hot when it claims yours, that stupidly talented mouth making you crazy. 

“Hold her,” Jisung says, speaking against your lips while guiding Changbin’s hands.  Jisung grabs your thighs and pushes them up, not quite folding you in half but almost there.  He knows you need to be open to take him.  Even then, you are already clenching, fluttering around nothing in anticipation.

Changbin holds your thighs back, hands pressed under the curve of your knee.  Jisung hastily shoves his shorts down his thighs, leaving them gathered at the knee.   He touches you and uses your desire to wet his dick, frantically jerking it as if it is not already intimidatingly hard and ready. 

“Jisungie,” you say, already whining, wiping an embarrassing spot of drool as it spills over your bottom lip.  Your body is so eager that it thunders out of control, clenching around nothing, and you can’t seem to stop it.   

Jisung is so mean, just using his fingertip for a second, circling your fluttering hole.  You try kicking him but your ankle manages little more than a flick, your legs trapped in Changbin’s hold. 

“Sorry,” Jisung says, giggling and obviously unapologetic.  He flicks your pouting bottom lip before finally putting the tip of his dick at your entrance. 

The first little bit is always fine.  It feels good to be full, your body needing him, pulling him in.  He rocks back and forth a little, pushing an inch then another, and that’s when your body realizes how much there is, clenching and stretching and burning as he pushes in.   

He goes slow, his whining mouth against your throat.  But then Chan sits on the edge of the bed and touches his back.  He bottoms out quickly and you squeak, eyes closed and breath coming fast. 

You hear Chan say, “Take it off.”   Confused, you blink your eyes open.  Chan is talking to Jisung, tugging his shirt up his back. 

Jisung groans but complies, tugging it over his head with one hand.  The few seconds give you a precious moment to adjust, barely enough before he comes back and starts to fuck you with short, rolling thrusts.   You think Chan is getting Jisung’s shorts out of the way given the jerky way Jisung moves on top of you, but then you are skin to skin with no obstruction. 

“Mmph, yellow – legs,” you say, breaking only briefly to prevent a cramp in your thighs.  Changbin is quick to smooth you out, helping reposition you more comfortably.  

You sprawl flat on your back as Changbin moves away, wrapping your legs around Jisung’s waist without any hindrance.  He holds himself above you, alternatively muttering expletives and cooing sweet nothings at you. 

Changbin sits on one side, Chan the other, both fully clothed despite the obvious strain below their waistbands.  It reminds you a little of the time Changbin topped Jisung while Chan fucked you, the pair of you kissing and touching between them the entire time.   

Today is a little different.  You are at the centre of it all, Jisung inside you, Chan’s hand on your chest and Changbin’s fingers circling your mouth.   You take those fingers when prompted, sucking dutifully, batting your eyelashes up at him while he softly finger-fucks your mouth. 

Chan’s fingers join him, touching your lip.  You open your mouth wider and drool messily around the intrusion. 

“Fuck,” Chan says.  He rips his hand back in sudden needy haste.  “Turn over,” he demands, smacking Jisung on the ass. 

It makes Jisung yelp but he complies.  With some help from Changbin, you roll over until Jisung is on his back and you are on top of him.  Changbin kneels upright too, taking your face in his hands and kissing you, tongue penetrating your mouth as Jisung holds your hips and thrusts up into you. 

Chan grabs the back of your neck, holding you in place while Changbin kisses you.  Chan’s other hand runs down your front, tweaking a nipple and making you mewl into Changbin’s mouth.  You are more panting than kissing by the time Chan’s fingers reach your pussy. 

Jisung slows down just a little, out of breath and whimpering as you clench around him.  This angle makes him feel stupidly deep, your eyes rolling back.  He makes a few small, jerky movements, not even a deep thrust, and it still feels like he his hitting your heart. 

Chan joins the kiss with Changbin.  You are not even sure who is kissing you, just that it is one or the other, back and forth until you are dizzy.  You know it is Chan’s fingers between your legs, the unmistakable pattern of his deft, familiar stroke making you spiral towards another orgasm. 

“Oh, god, she’s – she’s—” Jisung says, squeezing your hips, going still for a minute to stop himself from coming when you do.  He is breathing as hard as you. 

You look down at Jisung, holding eye contact while you come hard on Chan’s fingers. Chan and Changbin are each sucking a bruise into either side of your neck. 

“Fuck,” you say in a watery voice, thighs shaking, hands on Jisung’s abdomen as you lean forward. 

“That’s it,” Chan says, kissing your throat sweetly while Changbin bites you meanly.  Both of them swipe their tongue across the mark they leave behind.  “Jisung,” Chan says, a demand without further explanation.

“Fuck, I know,” Jisung says, slowly moving his hips again. 

It is so quick off your orgasm, it makes aftershocks move through your whole body.  You are a livewire, making every ridiculous sound possible as Jisung fucks you, Changbin kisses you, and Chan gets up behind you. 

Chan runs his hands down your sides, gently bending you forward until you are chest to chest with Jisung. 

“Yup, just like that,” Chan says, rubbing the base of your spine then lower.  His hands cup the curve of your ass, squeezing, tilting your hips just so.  It gives him a good view of Jisung’s cock moving in and out of you, no doubt obscenely wet and messy, as well as exposing the smaller hole in your ass as he spreads you open. 

“Changbin,” Chan says, still with that same confident assurance he will be obeyed no matter what, “Pass me the lube. Bedside drawer.” 

As if you were not already sensitive enough, just hearing those words makes everything clench, which makes Jisung fuck you harder, which makes some place inside you that is so unbelievably soft and tender start to ache. 

“Ah, that sound,” Changbin says when your moans turn to high-pitched whimpers.  He pats the back of your head and reaches for the bedside table. 

After a bit of rustling, he tosses the lube at Chan who catches it easily. 

“One second,” Changbin says while Chan uncaps it.  “She’s gonna come again.  Big one, isn’t it, yes?” 

The fact he knows before you do is a testament to how closely he watches you, how well he knows you.  He is completely right, of course, as Jisung repeatedly pounds into some squishy, vulnerable part of you, so deep and so tender.  You are not sure your clit would even respond if someone tried to touch it, but they don’t need to.   It is enough that Jisung is hitting that place again and again. 

You come with a scream, literally gushing around Jisung as you come.  It takes everything in his willpower not to come, nonsensically begging Changbin to help so he doesn’t finish.  Changbin just grabs him by the throat, much harder than Jisung grabbed you, making Jisung choke out a strangled gasp immediately.  It works, though, as Jisung goes still but stays hard, letting you rock desperately on top of him as your orgasm seems to last ages. 

When it finishes, you are completely boneless.  You slump onto Jisung who takes a breath when Changbin lets go. 

“All right,” Changbin says, smacking your ass.  You hear him kiss Chan quickly.   “Your turn.”

It is a good thing you feel so willowy; it makes it easy for Chan to open you up on his slick fingers.  The few times you have done this, it always took forever, which was fun in its own way, but today it is so easy.  He slides a finger right in, then another, hardly any obstruction as your body surrenders so completely to your boyfriends.

“You gonna take it okay, baby?” Jisung asks, his hands on your sides, holding you steady. 

You look up at him, nodding, and open your mouth with a whine.  He understands, lifting his head, meeting you in a messy, lazy kiss while he rocks slowly inside you.   The kiss only breaks when Chan replaces his fingers with his cock, reigniting every spark in your over sensitized body.  

“Ugh, god,” Jisung says, barely above a breath as he pants against your mouth.  “He’s inside you, baby?” 

You don’t answer because he can probably feel it when Chan is fully inside you.  It takes a second for them to calibrate, find a rhythm that works.   You are not sure if you are more impressed with yourself for taking it so easily this time, or impressed that Jisung has lasted this long and is still coherent enough to keep a steady rhythm. 

“Changbin,” you say, his name a moan on your lips.  You need to feel him too, his hand on your back not nearly enough. 

“Go,” Chan says, groaning, your hips in his hands as he fucks you.  “Oh, baby, you’re so good,” he says.  “Isn’t our girl so good for us?” 

Changbin and Jisung basically just grunt in reply, affirmative but irrevocably distracted. 

Changbin kneels near your head, rubbing the back of your neck and gently guiding you to turn your face.  Jisung swears when you open your mouth, a bit of spit drooling past his own lips as he watches you take Changbin’s cock past your lips.   You mostly just lay there with your mouth open, letting him fuck it rather than really blowing him, but there are no complaints. 

Chan squeezes your ass, a gentle knead that just makes you feel more open, stretched to your absolute limits, so full that you do not know how you will ever be happy without them all inside you.  

It reinvigorates you.  You find strength in your arm and use it to touch Changbin, fist circling where your mouth does not reach.  You get him off first but Chan follows quickly, muttering things like you, tight, perfect, baby, baby, baby.

“Oh god,” Jisung says, somehow still holding out.  When Chan slips out, it gives Jisung slightly more leverage.  He pushes himself upright, letting you slump in his arms and cling to him while he fucks up into you with quick, desperate little uh-uh-uhs. 

Finally, he comes, your name melting into a moan as he buries his face in your neck, mouth open where Changbin left his bitemark. 

They surround you after that and you hum happily, letting them pass you from one pair of arms to the next.  Jisung flops back, running his hands through his hair and catching his breath.  Changbin is there with a cloth of some kind – you think it might be Jisung’s shirt, but Jisung is way past caring – and he gives you a quick and gentle wipe-down while kissing your sleepy brow. 

“I should buy you sweaters more often,” Changbin says, giggling. 

It makes you snort with laughter, blinking up at him with a grin.  “Was gonna fuck you anyway, dummy,” you say. 

“In that case, I’ll buy you another one right now.” 

You giggle when he rubs his nose against yours in a cute little nose-kiss, eyes crinkling with an affectionate smile. 

“Mm, c’mere, sleepy,” Chan says, rightfully as you are still mostly slumped in his arms.  You manage to string an arm around his neck as he scoops you off the bed and holds you against his chest.

You are still a little dazed from so much sensation.   You let your boys take care of you.  After some quick inspection and care, you are plunked in a bath with Jisung to clean and decompress while the other two go strip and re-make the bed. 

Jisung kisses your face while helping you wash, his careful hands and the hot water soothing every achy limb. 

“Totally worth it,” you say, head under his chin, eyes closed and sighing contently. 

Changbin comes to help you out.  By then, you are bright-eyed, sore but in a way that makes you alive.  You feel clean and fresh and loved, bundled up in a robe and then carried off in Changbin’s arms to the living room where food, a comfy couch, and Chan is waiting. 

Jisung joins a moment later.  The laptop is long since closed and utterly forgotten, the four of you snuggling up in a big blanket.  Chan has an arm slung across the back of the couch, your head on his chest, Changbin’s arm around your middle, and Jisung half-asleep where heis  slumped against Changbin. 

“Round two?” Jisung asks then promptly yawns, making you laugh as Changbin playfully smacks him and Chan just sighs an amused sigh. 

Taking the cue from Jisung’s yawn, you close your eyes and snuggle down.