Wonie

Before you can reply, he pounces. His fingers find your waist, your neck, any spot that makes you squirm. The tickle war starts, and you can barely breathe through your laughter.

“Hee! Stop!” you manage between gasps.

“Nope, this is justice,” he grins, merciless.

You struggle to escape, but he’s stronger and clearly not letting you off the hook. When you finally collapse, breathless, Heeseung seizes the chance: he cups your face in both hands, and this time there’s no dodging. His lips catch yours in a quick, certain kiss.

“There. Balance restored,” he murmurs, triumphant.

You glare at him—half annoyed, half amused—but he just settles back next to you as if nothing happened, though his smile betrays him.

“Don’t try that again,” you warn.

“We’ll see,” he replies, tucking your head against his shoulder, confident that next time, you won’t get away so easily.

✧ Jay ----------

The kitchen smells amazing. Jay always takes the art of cooking a little too seriously, and today he decided to prepare the whole dinner. You sit at the counter, watching the precise way his hands move as he tastes the sauce. After a sip with the wooden spoon, he turns to you with a confident smile.

“Try it.” he says, holding out the spoon.

You obey, and the sauce is so good you can’t help but smile. Jay, satisfied with your reaction, leans in a little closer. And just when you expect him to say something about the recipe, you notice the look in his eyes: he’s not going for a comment, he’s going straight for your lips.

With a quick move, you turn your face to the side. He ends up just inches from your cheek, so close he almost crashes into your shoulder. He freezes, processing what just happened.

“…Did you just dodge me?” he asks in a voice so low it’s almost scary.

You give him a mischievous smile and shrug like it’s nothing. Jay, however, slowly steps back, sets the spoon on the counter, and folds his arms.

“This is worse than criticizing my seasoning.” he says with mock seriousness, as if you’d insulted his deepest pride.

You try to hold back your laughter, but he keeps up the act: walking to the fridge, opening it without really looking, and letting out a dramatic sigh.

“So much effort, so much dedication… and this is how you repay me.”

In the end, you move closer and tug at his shirt, trying to break him out of his martyr role. But Jay doesn’t budge, not even an inch.

“No, I don’t want anything now.” he says with pursed lips, though the sparkle in his eyes betrays his amusement.

You lean in to kiss him, but this time he turns his head away, copying you shamelessly. You stare at him with your mouth open, and he smiles in satisfaction.

“Hurts, doesn’t it?” he whispers, voice laced with both teasing and tenderness.

Finally, he can’t hold it any longer and closes the distance, catching you off guard with a slow but inevitable kiss. When he pulls back, he murmurs softly:

“That’s so you learn not to play with fire.”

And just like that, he returns to the stove as if nothing happened—though the victorious smile on his face is impossible to hide.

✧ Jake ----------

The afternoon is calm, the sun setting and the cool air matching the mood. You walk together down the street, no rush, hands intertwined. Jake is telling some funny story about Layla, exaggerating every detail just to make you laugh. You watch him fondly, because you know he loves being the center of your attention.

Suddenly, he goes quiet. His hand squeezes yours a little, and when you glance at him, he’s already looking at you with that goofy smile that always gives him away. He leans in slowly, intention written all over his eyes. You know what’s coming.

When his lips are just a breath away from yours, you turn your head. Jake ends up kissing the air, stumbling slightly over his own steps.

“Huh?” he blurts out, surprised.

You keep walking as if nothing happened. But he stays frozen, still holding your hand, dragging behind you with the most incredulous expression in the world.

“You did not just reject me!” he says, clutching his chest like he’s suffered a fatal blow.

You try to hold back your laughter, but his wounded-puppy face makes it impossible. Jake suddenly stops and plants himself in front of you, blocking the path.

“Look me in the eyes and tell me you did that on purpose.”

You don’t answer, just smile. That’s enough to make him let out a dramatic groan and crouch down, hiding his face in his hands.

“This is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me…”

A few passersby glance curiously, which makes him snap back up. He straightens immediately, takes your hand again, his brows furrowed but his eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Fine. If you want to play, we’ll play. But I’m not losing.”

The rest of the walk, he keeps trying: a quick kiss on your forehead, another on your nose, even a surprise attempt when you’re distracted looking at a shop window. You dodge them all, and it only fuels his competitiveness.

When you finally reach your front door, Jake steps ahead, gently pins you against the wall, and says in a low voice:

“Last chance.”

You don’t have time to answer. This time, with all the determination he can muster, he gets what he wants: a stolen kiss that leaves you no chance to react. When he pulls back, he smiles proudly.

“Knew I’d win in the end.”

✧ Sunghoon ----------

The echo of the music still lingers in the room. Sunghoon turns off the speaker and drops to the floor, breathing heavily after another intense practice. You walk in with a bottle of water, and he takes it with a tired but satisfied smile.

“You’re a lifesaver,” he says before drinking it all in one go.

He wipes his forehead with the towel, and even though he’s still sweaty, he doesn’t skip his routine of fixing his hair in the mirror, as if he could never allow himself to look bad. You watch him in amusement, and he notices.

“What?” he asks, raising a brow.

“Nothing, just… you’re so you,” you reply, laughing.

Sunghoon shoots you a look that’s half playful, half challenging, then walks over with calm steps and leans toward you. You already know where this is going: his lips aiming for yours, with that quiet confidence that’s so him. But at the very last second, you turn your head, and he ends up brushing your cheek instead.

He freezes, surprised. Slowly pulling back, he blinks, like his brain needs a moment to process what just happened.

“Did you just… dodge me?” his voice is low, almost disbelieving.

You only smile and nod mischievously.

Sunghoon lets out a short laugh, running a hand over his neck. He tries to play it off, but the sparkle in his eyes betrays him.

“Alright, I get it. I must be a mess right now…” he mutters, standing to go back to the mirror.

There, like it’s a ritual, he fixes his hair, adjusts his shirt, even sprays on a bit of cologne from the bottle he keeps in his bag. You watch with your arms crossed, amused by his bruised pride.

When he’s done, he walks back over with a dangerous smile.

“Give me five minutes,” he says, voice low and sure. “You won’t be able to resist.”

And he keeps his promise. This time he doesn’t rush in—he plays with you. Leaning closer, then pulling back, making you chase him with your eyes. In the end, when you least expect it, he catches your waist and steals a slow, intense kiss that wipes away any trace of teasing.

When he pulls back, his smile is full of satisfaction.

“Knew I just needed the upgraded version of me.”

You roll your eyes, but deep down you know that with him, dodging isn’t as easy as you thought.

✧ Sunoo ----------

It’s a quiet afternoon in your room. You’re lying on the bed, distracted by your phone, when Sunoo shows up without warning. He comes in with that bright energy he always carries and settles next to you like it’s his natural place.

“Hey, are you ignoring me?” he asks, leaning in to peek at what you’re looking at on the screen.

Before you can answer, he moves even closer. His lips are about to brush against yours—quick, soft, leaving you no time to react… but you do. Turning your head at the very last second, you manage to let his kiss fall into the air.

The silence lasts only two seconds, but it feels eternal.

Sunoo freezes, eyes wide. Slowly, he pulls back and stares at you with a look of utter betrayal.

“…Did you just reject me?”

You can’t help but laugh, which only makes it worse. He clutches his chest and lets out a dramatic gasp.

“This is unforgivable!” he declares, collapsing face-down on the bed. He smacks the mattress with his hands like he’s in a Greek tragedy, mumbling into the sheets, “I never thought you’d treat me like this…”

You try to calm him down, but he turns his head away, refusing to look at you. His offended silence lasts barely a minute before he sneaks a side glance, lips in a pout so exaggerated it almost looks fake.

“It hurts, you know? Me, who always treats you like royalty… and you do this to me.”

You laugh and try to get closer, but Sunoo suddenly sits up, pushing you back with a theatrical wave of his hand.

“No, I don’t want your scraps of affection now,” he says, like the lead in a heartbreaking drama.

Of course, his act doesn’t last long. The second you pretend to get serious and threaten to stand up, Sunoo grabs your wrist quickly.

“Wait, wait.” His eyes glimmer mischievously. “Fine… I forgive you. But you’re going to make it up to me.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to reply. He leans in again, this time more determined, and gets exactly what he wanted from the start: a sweet, lingering kiss that wipes away his fake drama in seconds.

When he pulls back, he smiles victoriously.

“See? You can’t resist me.”

And he curls up by your side, as if his whole tragedy never even happened.

✧ Jungwon ----------

It’s a quiet afternoon in the dorm living room. You’re sitting on the couch scrolling through your phone while Jungwon, right beside you, flips through a notebook. Lately, he’s been so focused, wanting to prove he can handle everything: practice, homework, responsibilities… and still somehow make time for you.

Suddenly, he closes the notebook and looks at you with a small but confident smile.

“I deserve a reward for everything I do, don’t you think?” he says, leaning toward you.

You know exactly what he means, and just as his lips are about to brush yours, you turn your head. The kiss lands on your cheek instead.

For a moment, Jungwon freezes. Then he slowly pulls back, brows furrowed.

“…Did you just dodge me?”

You try to laugh it off nervously, but that only makes him narrow his eyes further. Crossing his arms, he takes on that “angry leader” stance that you could never take seriously.

“You know that was disrespectful, right?” he says firmly, like he’s scolding a group member.

You burst out laughing.

“Don’t exaggerate, Won! It was just a joke.”

“A joke that hurts,” he shoots back immediately, deadly serious.

He keeps staring at you, and though his expression is stern, his cheeks are flushed. You realize he’s not so much angry as embarrassed.

“Did you really get upset?” you ask, still smiling.

Jungwon sighs, looking away, biting his lower lip. Without meeting your eyes, he murmurs:

“It’s not that I’m upset… it’s just… well, I don’t do these things with just anyone.”

His words leave you quiet for a few seconds. Noticing your silence, Jungwon turns back with the faintest pout.

“Fine, I’ll forgive you. But only because I like you,” he finally says, lowering his guard a little.

This time he leans in slower, and even though you look like you might dodge him again, the firm way he holds your chin makes it impossible. His lips brush yours in a short but determined kiss.

When he pulls back, he smiles victoriously.

“That’s better. And don’t play with me again,” he warns, though his eyes are shining with tenderness.

✧ Ni-ki ----------

The room is lit only by the TV screen. Niki has the controller in his hands and a confident smile on his lips. You sit beside him, watching the speed of his moves, his focus locked on the game. Suddenly, he pauses and turns toward you with that mischievous look that always means trouble.

“You know what’s better than winning this game?” he asks, leaning in.

Before you can answer, he moves in for a kiss. But you turn your head at the last second, and he ends up kissing the air. He freezes, eyes wide.

“…Did you just dodge me?” he asks in disbelief.

You smile innocently.

“Maybe.”

Niki leans back against the couch, one hand over his chest.

“This is illegal,” he declares with utter seriousness. “If you’re going to play dirty, so can I.”

Before you can reply, he resumes the game, and within two minutes, he scores a flawless win. Tossing the controller onto the couch, he leans toward you so quickly you don’t even get the chance to move away. His lips catch yours in a short but certain kiss.

When he pulls back, he grins like he’s won a trophy.

“New rule: every time I win, I get a kiss.”

“And if you lose?” you ask, amused.

“That’s not going to happen,” he replies with absolute confidence, grabbing the controller again.

And sure enough, every victory turns into an excuse. Niki doesn’t miss a single one: the moment “WINNER” flashes on the screen, he drops the controller, leans in, and steals another kiss. Some are quick, some last a little longer, but all of them carry that spark of competitiveness that defines him.

“See? I’m unbeatable,” he brags after his third win, his lips still brushing yours.

In the end, you don’t even bother dodging. His eyes light up with satisfaction every time he repeats the routine: win, boast, kiss you. And while the game still runs on the screen, you know what he really cares about isn’t the score, but the perfect excuse he invented to keep you close.

After another victory, he leans in again and murmurs against your lips:

“Better than any trophy.”

✧A/n: I hope you liked it! Comments, likes, and reblog are really appreciated!! Mwah!Mwha! ilysm

you’d seen glimpses of it, the way his eyes darkened on stage, scanning the crowd with that low-lidded, knowing gaze. those piercing looks that seemed to search and strip you down to your core, making you forget where you were, who you were. the way he moved, how his body rolled and hit every beat with intention, it was alluring. sexy, to put it lightly. and that jungwon? he wasn’t just for the stage.

he wanted to bring that version of himself into the quiet moments, too. when it was just you and him. no lights, no cameras. just soft breaths and low whispers between stolen glances. he wanted you to see the side of him that didn’t just hold your hand, he wanted you to feel how firmly he could hold you, how certain he was. how grown he’d become.

because the world still saw the sweet boy with the hoodie and the dimples.

but you, he wanted you to see the man behind the smile.

you were curled up on his bed, legs tangled beneath you, your fingers playing with the hem of your sleeve as you watched him from across the room. he was leaning against the desk, arms crossed over his chest, head slightly tilted as he stared at you quiet, unreadable.

“why are you looking at me like that?” you asked, smiling without really meaning to. the warmth in your voice made his lips twitch, but he didn’t smile back. not right away.

instead, he pushed off the desk and walked over slowly, each step deliberate, his eyes never leaving yours.

“you always look at me like i’m soft,” he murmured, kneeling in front of you at the edge of the bed. “like i’m harmless.”

you blinked, thrown just a little by the sudden seriousness in his tone. “you are soft,” you teased gently, reaching out to poke his cheek. “and very cute.”

he caught your hand before it landed, fingers wrapping around your wrist but not tight, not rough, just enough to make you feel the strength he usually kept hidden. he looked up at you from beneath his lashes, his voice low and steady.

“what if i don’t want to be cute tonight?”

your breath caught, not because you were scared. no, nothing about him felt unsafe but because this was a different jungwon. still quiet, still calm. but there was something new in his voice. something that made your heart thud a little faster.

you swallowed. “then… what do you want to be?”

he leaned in, resting his chin lightly on your knee, his fingers still wrapped around your wrist. his gaze didn’t waver. “i want you to see me,” he said, his voice like silk. “in the way i feel when i look at you.”

you couldn’t look away from his eyes. there was no teasing in them now, just heat. something sharp and focused and entirely unfamiliar coming from him.

“you always say i’m cute,” he continued, his voice dipping softer, slower. “but you don’t know how hard it is not to show you what i really think about when you smile at me like that.”

your cheeks flushed instantly. “jungwon-”

he smiled now, just a little. not the wide, dimpled grin everyone else knew. this one was slower. deeper. knowing.

“say it again,” he said, fingers brushing gently against your wrist where his hand still held you. “say i’m cute.”

you hesitated. "...you’re cute."

his eyes flickered with something playful and dangerous all at once.

“mm. that’s too bad,” he whispered, leaning closer. “because i was just about to stop being cute for you.”

it didn’t happen all at once.

it came in little shifts, in glances held longer than they used to, in the way he touched you like he was sure of himself now. not hesitant. not boyish. just sure.

the first time you noticed it, really noticed it, was when you were out with the boys, walking through the busy streets late at night. you hadn’t realized how close someone had gotten to you in the crowd until jungwon’s hand slid around your waist and pulled you slightly behind him, wordless, smooth. he didn’t say anything. just kept walking, his hand staying there like it belonged.

he didn’t let go until you were back in the quieter part of town and even then, it lingered.

“you okay?” he asked simply, not even looking at you when he said it. like he already knew the answer. like he was already prepared to fix it if it wasn’t.

and just like that, you saw that side of him. the one no one else really got to see.

another time, it was in the practice room. you’d stopped by after schedules to bring him something, thinking he’d be too tired to really talk. but when you sat down on the floor, he dropped next to you sweaty, flushed, hair sticking to his forehead and pulled you straight into his lap.

not beside him. into his lap.

“missed you,” he murmured into your shoulder, his arms wrapping around your waist, his voice so low and husky with exhaustion it made your heart skip. “you okay? you look tired.”

and maybe you were tired. but the way he held you? made it feel like you didn’t have to be anything at all, just his.

then there were the smaller things.

his hand on the small of your back when he led you into a room. the way he always opened the car door for you now without saying a word. how his texts had changed from “did you eat?” to “don’t skip meals. i mean it.” or the quiet “let me handle it” when someone talked over you in a conversation.

nothing loud. nothing showy.

but it was him. steady. quiet. there.

and when you’d catch him looking at you, really looking, it wasn’t shy anymore.

it was that same stage stare, the one that used to belong to the stage lights and loud music, now softened just for you. intense. direct. like he saw everything and liked it. wanted it.

wanted you.

it was in those moments you realized:

the soft soft boy with the oversized hoodies hadn’t disappeared.

he’d just grown up.

NIKI SLIDES ONTO YOUR DESK chair like he lives there. (he kind of does at this point.)

you left hours ago, sending him a link to the footage and a simple message:

“do my voiceover plz haha”

he sent back a thumbs up emoji and a picture of him playing valorant at your setup with a bowl of dry cereal.

but — finally — the video’s up on your editing laptop. you’re centered in the frame, lips already glossy, his hoodie slipping off one shoulder like you didn’t plan that. he rolls his eyes and hits record.

“alright. this is my girlfriend. she’s about to spend thirty minutes proving she doesn’t need makeup by putting on a full face of makeup.” he says, voice flat.

you hold up your primer and flash a peace sign at the camera.

“step one: mystery goop. i think it makes your face sticky. which is apparently good. don’t ask me why.”

you start patting it in with your fingers, totally focused.

“she’s acting like she’s doing heart surgery right now. it’s not that deep, bro.”

a moment.

“okay, maybe it is. her skin looks good. whatever.”

next up is foundation. you dot it on with practiced precision.

“here comes the skin colored lotion. as if her face isn’t already smooth.”

you blend quickly with your sponge, mouth moving like you’re talking to yourself off camera.

“she’s definitely complaining about something right now. probably the sponge. or the time. she’s never on time.”

concealer comes next. you do a triangle under the eyes, and a to the chin.

“she does this everytime like she doesn’t sleep whenever she can. like it doesn’t make sense.”

you lift a brow at the mirror. he mirrors the look automatically, smirking.

“she makes that face every time. like she’s surprised it’s turning out cute. babe. it always turns out cute.”

you do your brows now. you go in with small, controlled strokes and niki hums under his breath.

“this part? she zones out completely. i could be talking to her and tell her i crashed the car and she’ll make faces then respond ten seconds later.”

then eyeshadow. you hesitate. consider. then go for the neutral and pink shades.

he nods like he predicted it.

“she does this every time. pretends she’s gonna experiment with brighterer colors and then picks the same color she always uses. at this point it’s muscle memory.”

eyeliner next. you draw a clean wing with one hand, barely blinking.

“i can’t look. i always think she’ll poke her eye.”

you pick up your lash curler and glance at the camera like you already know he’s going to say something.

“yep. the torture device.”

you clamp it, curling your eyelashes upward.

“why are you not even scared? like you’re not squeezing metal near your eyeball right now. couldn’t be me. actually, literally wouldn’t be me.”

you curl the other side with the same calmness.

“she does this in the car sometimes. i don’t know how she does it while moving. and i just have to sit there and pretend i’m not witnessing some shit out of final destination.”

you reach for your mascara next, open it and apply it to your lashes.

“this is the lash grower. like it’s literally magic.”

you pause mid swipe, mouth open, brows slightly raised like you’re trying not to mess up.

“this is the mascara face. you know the one. mouth open, eyes wide, like a fish.”

you finish one eye, then the other, blinking carefully toward the ceiling.

“honestly? she ate that. i’ve never seen someone do this without stabbing their own eye. i flinch just watching it.”

then blush. you apply it to your cheeks and the tip of your nose.

“she’s obsessed with this part. but i like watching it. it makes her look pretty and soft. and the way she uses like, nothing, and it still spreads out—“ he catches himself, laughing under his breath.

“yeah. i like this part.”

you smile at something off camera now. probably at yourself. or maybe at the joke you were thinking of when you were filming. whatever it was, it makes his heart squeeze.

“she smiles like that and i forget what i was talking about.” he says quietly.

highlighter next. it’s just enough to catch the light and you tilt your face toward the window.

“there it is. that little head tilt. she does that every time too. look at her trying not to smile. she knows she looks good. i hope she trips on her way out. just kidding. i’ll catch her.”

you’re reaching for your lip liner now, dragging it gently along the edge of your lips with precision.

niki squints.

“okay, now we’re doing… outlining. this part’s lowkey a scam. she lines her lips just to fill them in again. but i’m not allowed to question it.”

you lean in a little, still focused, overlining the top lip slightly.

“look at her. just casually redrawing her face like it’s a coloring book. i said something about it once and she was like ‘it’s called enhancing.’ okay then. my bad bae.”

you cap the liner and grab your lipstick next, a nudey pink, your go to. you tap it on lightly, almost like a stain.

“this one’s always in her purse. i don’t even know what shade it is but i like it.”

finally: lip gloss. his real enemy. you swipe it on, press your lips together, and pout a little.

niki sighs dramatically. “this part ruins my life. i go in for a kiss and she’s like, ‘nooo you’ll mess it up.’ like girl. you just spent thirty minutes turning into the human version of an angel and i don’t even get one kiss?”

you pose and he continues to talk.

“then when i finally get to kiss her i become one of those sticky mouse traps. but it’s okay. i secretly like it.” he admits.

you laugh at yourself then reach to cover the camera and the screen cuts.

he leans back in your chair, hoodie sleeves half pushed up, hand hovering over the stop button.

the room’s quiet again. the file’s done. he could stop recording.

but he doesn’t.

not right away.

he exhales, taps the desk once with his knuckle, then mutters under his breath, almost like he doesn’t realize he’s still talking into the mic.

“she’s so pretty it actually pisses me off.”

he pauses.

then speaks softer. more to himself than anything.

“…i’m so down bad for her it’s insane.”

click.

His jaw tightened. He grabbed the phone, the screen still glowing with the image Sunghoon had been using. Without a word, he deleted it. His finger trembled with fury.

He slowly turned toward him.

“Honestly? I feel like breaking your fucking face.”

Sunghoon didn’t speak. Didn’t move. He knew he’d fucked up.

But Heeseung didn’t lunge at him. Not yet. He walked over, slowly, phone still in hand, until he was standing right in front of him. His stare burned.

“You jerk off to my girl… and don’t even have the decency to hide it?”

“You’re that desperate you need to get off to her face right here?”

Sunghoon swallowed hard, still naked under the sheets.

“It wasn’t serious... just a picture—”

“Shut the fuck up.”

Heeseung leaned in and grabbed him by the collar, dragging him closer.

“Wanna know what she does when she cums? What she moans, what she begs for, what she swallows when she’s on her knees for me?”

He let go with a shove, knocking Sunghoon back onto the bed.

“You’ve got a picture. I’ve got her body screaming my name. And I’m not letting some bastard like you jerk off to that.”

Heeseung turned to leave, but paused at the door.

“Next time I catch you looking at her like that… I won’t delete the picture. I’ll smash your fucking face into the wall.”

And with trembling fingers, he slammed the door behind him.

…

Later that day, on his way to your place, a dark idea crossed Heeseung’s mind. When you opened the door, his face was already flushed with something dangerous. He stepped in, gently but with purpose, and lifted you into his arms, drawing a gasp from your lips.

“You’ve got a mission today, baby,” he growled with a wicked smile. “You’re gonna moan my name, real loud,for me.”

He set you down on the kitchen counter and pulled out his phone.

“Alright, sweetheart?”

He placed the phone to the side, voice memo already recording—right into Sunghoon’s chat.

Before you could react, his lips crashed onto yours, his hands roaming down your sides until they reached your panties. He yanked them off and tossed them somewhere across the kitchen.

He was rough, but not cruel—his fingers slid into you without warning, finding a steady rhythm. Moans poured out of you, his name echoing with each breathless cry. A satisfied smile curled on Heeseung’s lips.

“That’s my fucking good girl.”

His fingers moved faster, hitting spots you didn’t even know existed. By the time you came undone in his hand, the message had already been sent—Heeseung eager to picture the shame and fury on Sunghoon’s face.

But it took less than a minute to get a reply. And it broke Heeseung.

“Damn, Heeseung, our girl sounds so good. Thanks for the audio. I’ll put it to good use tonight.”

Heeseung nearly exploded.

“OUR girl? That motherfucker!”

His face flushed red with rage. You didn’t know how this would end, but one thing was clear: these two were either going to kill each other… or fuck.

And honestly, the second one sounded a whole lot more likely.

✧ Jay ----------

Your legs were still trembling on the bed, your whole body sensitive from what Jay had just done to you. He placed a soft kiss on your forehead while his hand gently caressed your thigh.

“I’m going to grab a towel to clean you up. Don’t move.”

You nodded silently, still breathless, your chest rising and falling in uneven waves. Jay walked calmly out of the room, but as he passed a half-open door in the hallway, he stopped.

There was a sound. Panting. And your name.

The voice was unmistakable. Jungwon was inside, gasping hard, your name slipping from his lips in broken sighs.

Jay froze. For a second, he couldn't believe it—but that was all the time he needed to understand. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and returned to the room without saying a word.

You looked at him, puzzled when he came back empty-handed.

“Everything okay?” you asked, sensing something in his expression.

Jay didn’t answer. Instead, he walked straight to the bed and took your legs in his hands, spreading them apart without warning. You shivered.

“No. Everything’s not okay.”

He leaned over you, his eyes burning with something fierce.

“You wanna know what I heard in the hallway?”

“Jungwon. Saying your name. While he jerked himself off.”

Your face went blank. You didn’t say anything, you couldn’t. But Jay didn’t seem to care.

“I’m going to make sure he hears this loud and fucking clear.”

He lowered himself between your thighs, not bothering with tenderness this time. His tongue was fierce—fast, focused, relentless.  A loud moan escaped your lips before you could stop it.

Jay glanced up and muttered:

“That. That’s the sound I want.”

He climbed over you, flipped you onto your stomach with swift hands, and raised your hips until you were on all fours.

“You’re going to scream my name. So loud he’ll never dare think of you again.”

Without warning, he thrust into you hard, drawing a sharp cry from your lips. His rhythm was fast, intense, merciless.

“Say it. I want to hear it.”

“Jay… fuck, Jay…!”

“Louder.”

“JAY! It’s you, only you!”

He let out a low growl of satisfaction and drove into you harder, gripping your waist tight as the sound of skin against skin filled the room.

“That’s it. Let him hear it. Let him know who you belong to.”

His hands ran up your back, then tangled in your hair, pulling you slightly back.

“Are you still thinking about him?”

“Do you like that he’s listening?”

You couldn’t answer. The pleasure was overwhelming. Your body trembled with every thrust until you finally came undone with a choked cry, and Jay felt it—your walls tightening around him.

He held you tighter, his breathing ragged.

“I’m going to brand this into your skin.”

And he did.

He came deep inside you with a strained groan, resting his forehead on your back, still for a moment, letting his breath cool on your skin.

Then, without letting go, he whispered:

“He better not touch himself thinking about you again. Because next time…”“…I’ll leave the door wide open. So he doesn’t just hear it. He sees it.”

✧ Jake ----------

You were on a video call with Jake, sitting on your bed, wearing one of his oversized shirts that barely reached mid-thigh. Your hair was a bit messy, your expression soft and playful. He watched you from his room, smiling as you talked about your day—silly things, random thoughts—laughing, making cute gestures, absentmindedly playing with the hem of the shirt.

What you didn’t know… was that someone else was in the room with him.

Ni-ki.

He was sitting on the other side of the desk, wearing headphones, supposedly watching a video. But Jake noticed something was off. He saw how Ni-ki subtly glanced at the screen… and how his hand disappeared beneath the desk.

Jake froze.

He looked back at the screen. You were still smiling, crossing your legs innocently.

Then he heard it. A soft gasp. From Ni-ki.

And just like that, something snapped inside him.

Without a word, Jake closed his laptop. He stood up, stormed across the room, and yanked the headphones off Ni-ki. With one swift motion, he shoved his chair back.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?”

Ni-ki didn’t answer. He just lowered his head, ashamed, but not apologizing.

Jake’s jaw clenched. He slammed the door shut, hard. Then walked back, reopened his laptop, and your face reappeared on the screen.

“Jake? What happened? Are you okay?”

He sat down in front of the camera, his gaze locked on you.

“Nothing. I just… I can’t stop thinking about how fucking good you look in my shirt.”

You laughed nervously. Jake smiled too, but something had shifted. His eyes were darker. Hungry.

“Can you do something for me, baby?”

“Slide the shirt off one shoulder. Just a little.”

You blinked in surprise, but obeyed. You let the fabric fall, baring your shoulder.

Jake exhaled sharply. He knew Ni-ki was still in the room, silent, stuck, knowing he couldn’t leave.

“That’s it. Stay like that. Now show me a little more.”

You bit your lip, hesitating.

“Why are you being like this…?”

“Because someone was watching you the way they shouldn’t. And now I need to remind him who you belong to.”

You looked down, shy, but there was something in your eyes. A spark. Jake saw it. And that was all he needed.

“I’m going to make sure you hear exactly what I’d do to you if you were here…”

And without warning, he pulled his sweatpants down, his hand wrapping around himself slowly, deliberately.

Your eyes widened. Your breath quickened.

Jake licked his lips and smirked, knowing Ni-ki was still frozen in the corner, watching it all unfold.

“This is for you. And if anyone else dares to look again… I’ll break their fucking hands.”

He didn’t take his eyes off the camera as his hand began to move with more rhythm. Your cheeks flushed. You couldn’t look away.

Your thighs instinctively pressed together, and Jake noticed instantly.

“Are you squeezing your legs?”

“Open them.”

Your breath hitched. You did as he said, slowly, trembling.

“Just like that. Let me see.”

Then his tone dropped, deep and cutting, as he tilted his head slightly.

“And you, the one in the back… listen well.”

“This face. These moans. They’re mine. And all you’ll ever get… is the sound of me fucking her until she can’t even speak.”

His eyes returned to you, darker now, his hand pumping faster.

“Touch yourself.”

“I want to see you soaking wet, knowing someone else is dying to be me… but never will.”

Your hand slipped under the shirt. A soft whimper escaped your lips, and Jake groaned in response.

“That’s it, baby. Give it all to me. I want you to come for me, right now… while he sits there, not even able to breathe without hating himself for wanting you.”

✧ Sunghoon ----------

Sunghoon hadn’t expected to walk in on that.

He was just heading up to grab a hoodie he’d lent Heeseung, but as he passed by the slightly open door… he heard it.

Moans. Your name. And it wasn’t his own voice saying it. He peeked in, curious… and saw.

Heeseung was leaning against the headboard, body tense, his hand moving steadily between his legs. But what truly froze him in place was what Heeseung was holding in the other hand: A photo of you. That photo of you at the beach. The one only Sunghoon had. He stared for a few seconds in silence, not moving. Until Heeseung opened his eyes… and saw him.

“Shit…” he muttered, instantly pulling his hand away. The photo dropped to the floor.

Sunghoon didn’t say anything at first. He glanced down, picked up the picture calmly, slid it into the back pocket of his jeans… then looked up with a raised brow.

“Are you seriously jerking off to my girl?”

Heeseung opened his mouth, but nothing coherent came out.

Sunghoon just watched him. No yelling. No anger.

“Wanna really see her?”

Heeseung frowned, confused.

“Then come with me.”

…

Minutes later, Heeseung was sitting in the corner armchair of Sunghoon’s bedroom. From there, he had the perfect view.

You were on the bed, wearing a loose shirt that barely covered you. You didn’t know anyone else was there. You were smiling at Sunghoon, that smile that always drove him insane.

He leaned in, kissed you softly, and gently pushed the fabric up to expose your hips.

“Can I have you now, baby?”

“Always, Hoon…” you whispered, hands gliding up to his neck.

He laid you down carefully, settling between your thighs, trailing kisses down your skin like he had all the time in the world.

“You look so fucking beautiful like this…”

From the chair, Heeseung watched, breath shallow, heart racing.

Sunghoon leaned down, lips brushing yours as he whispered:

“Do me a favor…”

“What kind…?”

“Moan for me. Loud this time I want someone else to hear what he’ll never have.”

And then he pushed into you, deep and smooth. Your moan was soft at first, but it rose with each thrust.

The pace wasn’t rushed—it was intense, focused, like Sunghoon was trying to claim every inch of you.

On the chair, Heeseung was already falling apart. His hand slid down. Slowly at first.

He couldn’t look away. Your body. Your lips. The way you arched beneath Sunghoon…

And then your eyes found his. You looked straight at him. Held his gaze. And smiled. A soft, teasing, breathless smile full of heat.

While Sunghoon gripped your hips and thrust harder, you never broke eye contact with Heeseung. You bit your lip. Raised your hips. Took him deeper.

And then you moaned. Loud. Shameless. For him. Looking right at him.

And Heeseung? 

He completely lost it.

✧ Sunoo ----------

The house was completely silent when you got up to look for Sunoo. You’d woken in the middle of the night, missing the warmth of his body next to yours.

Barefoot, and wearing nothing but one of your oversized shirts, you walked quietly down the hallway. A faint light shone beneath one of the doors—you assumed he was there.

You didn’t knock. You just opened the door softly…

And froze. Jake was sitting on the bed, shirtless, his face tense, his hand between his legs. But that wasn’t the worst part. It was what he was holding in his arms. Your shirt. The one you swore you’d tossed in the dirty laundry.

And his voice…

“Fuck, Y/n…”

Then he looked up—and saw you.

His whole face shifted, panic crashing into him all at once. He sat up fast, still breathless, guilt painted across his expression.

“Y/n… I didn’t—”

But he never got to finish. The door behind you flew open. Sunoo.

He grabbed your arm without saying a word, slammed the door shut behind you both, and pulled you down the hallway toward his room.

You didn’t resist. You couldn’t speak. His face was unreadable—but in his eyes, there was something new.

Rage. Wounded pride. And desire.

Once inside, he closed the door behind you. Still holding your wrist, his eyes swept over you slowly.

“Are you okay?” he asked, voice low and restrained. You nodded, still in shock at what you'd just walked in on.

Sunoo took a deep breath. Stepped closer. Then again.

Until your back hit the door. His hand rose to your face, his thumb brushing your cheek, but his gaze never softened.

“Don’t go walking into rooms that aren’t mine again.”

His tone wasn’t gentle. It was firm. Dominant. And that version of him turned you on instantly.

“You’re mine.”

Then, without warning, he kissed you. Hard. No hesitation.

His tongue claimed your mouth like he owned it, and his hands slid down your waist, pushing you toward the bed. He pulled your shirt off in one swift move, then laid you down—careful, but relentless. He climbed over you, his skin warm against yours, his expression unreadable but intense.

“Did he touch you?”

You shook your head.

“Did he speak to you?”

“Only my name…” you whispered.

Sunoo leaned in, mouth brushing your ear.

“Then you’re going to moan it loud enough that he never dares say it again.”

His hands slid to your hips, then his mouth followed—trailing down your belly, slow and sure.

He wasn’t in a rush. He was claiming you.

Every kiss, every lick, every soft whimper he pulled from your lips was his way of branding you—reminding you, and anyone else listening, exactly who you belonged to.

And as you melted beneath his touch, something became painfully clear:

Sweet, perfect Sunoo… also knew exactly how to be ruthlessly yours.

✧ Jungwon ----------

Jungwon had only planned to grab a hoodie. That was it. Nothing more, nothing weird.

But as he passed by the slightly open door to Sunoo’s room… he heard something.Fast breathing. Soft, muffled moans.

He paused. Stepped closer—quietly. And then he saw it.

Sunoo, sitting at the edge of the bed, panting, one hand gripping a wrinkled shirt, the other working between his legs. But the worst part?

What was right in front of him. A photo of you.

One that only you and Jungwon should have. One of those private ones you’d taken after a shower, late one night.

Jungwon didn’t make a sound. He just shut the door—quietly—before Sunoo could even realize he’d been seen.

Then he turned and went straight back to his room, where you were sitting on the bed, scrolling through your phone, wearing one of his shirts and absolutely nothing underneath.

He looked at you for a long second. Then walked over and gently took the phone from your hands.

“Come here. Lie down.”

“What’s going on?”

“We’re going to film something together.”

“Wait… what?”

“Sunoo’s jerking off to a photo of you. So let’s give him something better.”

Your eyes widened completely. But you didn’t speak. Because Jungwon was already setting up his phone, placing it on the shelf across from the bed—angled perfectly.

Then he turned to you, undressing quickly, every movement calm, controlled, intense. He crawled between your legs, eyes burning.

“You ready?”

“Y-Yeah…” 

He kissed you. Not softly. It was deep, consuming—needy.

His hands moved over your body, lifting the shirt, exposing your skin, and in seconds, you were completely naked beneath him, lying back as he spread you open with his fingers.

“Look me in the eyes. I want that bastard to see everything.”

Then he pushed inside you in one smooth, hard motion.

You gasped—his name tearing from your lips without warning.

Jungwon started to move. Fast. But deliberate. Every thrust purposeful. Every sound, every angle, timed and measured. His hips snapped against you with force. His hands gripped your waist tight.

“This… is what it looks like when I really have you.”“When you’re wet for me. When you moan my name. When you come just for me.”

He reached up, wrapping a hand around your throat—not tight, just to hold you close, keep your eyes locked to his.

“I want you to come while looking at me.”“Knowing someone else is going to be watching this with his hand down his pants.”

His voice—those words—broke something inside you. The pleasure surged. You came hard, screaming his name, trembling underneath him.

Jungwon growled against your mouth, feeling you tighten around him—and followed right after, spilling inside you with a low, shaky moan. He stayed there for a moment, panting, forehead resting against yours.

Then he looked toward the camera. Got up, picked up the phone, and typed:

“Here’s some better material to jerk off to 😏🔥”

And hit send.

✧ Ni-ki ----------

You’d gotten up quickly—barefoot, half-asleep—just wanting to use the bathroom before crawling back into bed.

You opened the door without thinking… And froze. Jay was there. Standing in front of the mirror, shirt lifted, pants low, his hand wrapped tightly around his erection.

But that wasn’t what knocked the air out of your lungs. It was the phone, resting on the sink edge. The photo on the screen. You.

The one you’d taken at the beach—from the back, in that tiny bikini. The one only Ni-ki was supposed to have.

Jay met your eyes. And didn’t stop. His hand kept moving—slower now, but firmer. He didn’t look ashamed. Or guilty. Just hungry.

“Now that you’re here…”“You gonna stay—or just stand there and watch?”

You had no idea what to say. You stammered something you couldn’t even remember, took a step back, and shut the door with your heart hammering in your throat. You ran back to the room.

Ni-ki was lying on the bed, phone in hand.

“Niki…” you whispered.

He looked up.

“What’s wrong?”

“I saw Jay… in the bathroom… he was— He was touching himself… to my photo.”

Ni-ki went silent. He didn’t say a word. He got up slowly. Walked out the door. Closed it behind him.

You were left there, sitting on the bed, breath caught in your chest, not knowing what was about to happen. You didn’t know how much time passed before he returned. But when he did—he didn’t give you a chance to think.

The door swung open hard. Ni-ki stepped in, slammed it shut, and grabbed your arm with a firm grip you’d never felt from him before. He pressed you back against the door, his body against yours, eyes dark and locked on you.

“That photo?” —he said, voice low and sharp— “Only I was supposed to see it.”

Then he kissed you—hard. Fierce. Uncontrolled.

His hands slipped down to your thighs, lifting you easily, forcing your legs around his waist. Your back hit the door. His mouth moved down your neck.

“I’m gonna fuck you right here.”“Where anyone can hear it. Just so it’s clear who really owns you.”

He yanked your underwear down, let his pants fall, and entered you in one swift, deep thrust. No waiting. No words.

The door creaked under the pressure of every thrust. His hands gripped your hips tightly, his moans hot against your skin.

“He touched himself thinking about you?”“Then let him hear you moaning for me.”

Your body arched against him, legs shaking from the intensity. Each thrust was fast, firm, perfectly placed.

You were completely his. The way he filled you—so deep, so full—you couldn’t even breathe.

“Say it. Tell me who you belong to.”

“You! I’m yours, Ni-ki! Only yours!”

“Louder. Let them all fucking hear it.”

And you did.

You screamed his name when you came, clutching his back, trembling against him. He followed just seconds later—buried inside you, body shaking, forehead pressed to yours as he whispered:

“No one else. Ever.”

✧A/n: Do you know what I’m obsessed with? Sunghoon and Heeseung fighting over the reader — like aaaah!!, I need to write more about them like this!!! I hope you liked it! Comments, likes, and reblog are really appreciated!! Mwah!Mwha! ilysm