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For alphas, they are known to have short-temper, a high tendency to claim their respective territories and the list goes on. It doesn't help that most of the alphas are males. But, that doesn't mean female alphas doesn't exist. And that's how you come about—one of the few, extremely rare female alpha, was born into this world.

Safe to say, your parents were extremely disappointed when they heard the results after your check-up. They have the old, traditional mindset that females shouldn't be born as alphas or even, betas. They should be born as omegas—the perfect role for them as it allows them to get pregnant, carrying the alpha's child and being able to carry on the legacy as well. At first, your parents tried to force you to learn and adapt the ways of an omega but you were stubborn, refusing to budge an inch.

It didn't help that your older brother: Nishimura Ni-ki, a famous model that every brands fight to get their hands on, was hellbent on protecting and defending you from your parents' antics. However, the amount of power and influence your parents had was way higher than your brother.

This resulted in you being one of their pawns and there was nothing Riki could do to save you from them. At that time, he was only seventeen while you're fifteen. The last thing he remembered was you screaming at the top of your lungs, struggling to free yourself from your father's grip while you were being dragged away. The way you begged your brother to save you, to free you constantly haunts him, even till this day.

"Good morning, Ma'am."

Your staff greeted you, bowing at ninety-degrees sharp as you walked past them, ignoring their greetings. It wasn't because of any petty reasons. No, you were borderline fuming. The last thing you want is for you to unleash your pent-up anger on someone who clearly doesn't deserve it. You headed to your office, slamming the door shut behind you, startling the living lights out of your employees. But they were smart enough to pretend they heard nothing.

Bam!

You slammed your hands down on your desk, causing your keyboard and the other things to momentarily shoot up from their respective spots. You were busy drowning in your anger that you didn't registered someone entering your office, without permission or bothering to knock.

"Did something happened between you and that husband of yours again?"

You raised your head, unamused with your personal assistant's question. Remaining where you are, your eyes tracked his movements as he stopped before you, placing your standard to-go cup of coffee on your table. Scowling, you snatched it up, stabbing the straw through the small hole and sipped from it.

"What else is there, Choi Beomgyu? I swear, I hate him so much I just want to—" You paused, wildly waving your free hand about, imagining yourself choking your said husband.

As someone who had seen you at your worst and best, Beomgyu was unfazed. He merely hummed, sipping from his respective cup of coffee, "Well, that's not what you told me a few days ago. When you mentioned how and I quote 'good-looking in his uniform'—"

"One more word and I'll fire you," you threatened, pointing your left index finger at him.

Your assistant smirked; smug. "Yeah right. If you fire me, who's going to tolerate that temper of yours? Your husband?"

"Choi Beomgyu!"

After that, the two of you had just finished your meeting with the board. The meeting is scheduled on a monthly basis—a simple check-in on how the business is doing. At least, that's what they want you to think.

You knew the board disliked you ever since you took over the company. It's due to one simple reason—you're a woman.

To them, having to listen to someone of the opposite gender hurts their ego and pride. It's already hard for you to deal with your husband at home and having to watch your back at work.

Clearing your throat, you leaned back in your seat with your left leg elegantly crossed over your right leg. You rested your chin on the palm of your left hand, eyes jumping from one face to another. Beomgyu sat on your right while the rest of the seats were filled with members of the board. You can tell from their eyes that they wished it was anyone else but you sitting in that seat right now. The thought nearly made you smirked.

"So, now that today's meeting has ended, does anyone else have anything else to share? If not, we're done for the day," you said, opening the floor to them.

As expected, one of them raised his hands and you nodded, giving him permission to speak.

"Ma'am, while we acknowledge the… effort you've put into the company, perhaps certain decisions require a more experienced hand. One with, say… deeper understanding of the history."

The words he chose were carefully measured, but the unspoken meaning wasn't lost on everyone. He wasn't questioning the decision—he was questioning you. And it's directly toy our face. You remained calm, merely arching an eyebrow in response. Another board member took this as a chance to add in, being the brainless fool they are.

"And of course, we really do appreciate your… boldness. But boldness and recklessness are separated by a very thin line."

A few chuckled under their breath, not bothering to conceal it. You kept your chin resting on your palm, expression unreadable. Beomgyu squirmed uncomfortable beside you, clearly sensing the hostility and how the air shifted.

"So what you're really saying," you replied smoothly, voice calm but laced with steel, "is that numbers and profits don't matter. The growth we've seen in the past quarter doesn't matter. Why? It's because I'm the one leading the company."

A ripple of unease passed across the table. Some pointedly avoided your gaze, having the audacity to look guilty. Some smirked to themselves, as if to think she finally admitted the truth. A man at the far end scoffed, leaning back in his chair.

"Don't twist our words, Ma'am. We're merely suggesting that perhaps your methods don't align with the traditions this company was built on."

Traditions.

A pretty word they loved to hide behind. But when in reality, it was nothing more than just a mere excuse to allow them to have and taste power. To let them conquer and no one else should touch them. You couldn't helped but let out an amused snort. The sound immediately gathering everyone's attentions. You slowly uncrossed your legs, leaning forward with both elbows resting on the table, eyes sharp as they cut through everyone like a blade.

If looks could kill, they would've been dead on the spot.

"Let me make this crystal clear. If you have a problem with my leadership, that's your burden to carry. Not mine. I was placed in this position because I was the most capable and not because of your approval. And as long as I'm here, the only thing that matters are results—something I've constantly delivered. The rest of you, on the other hand, chose to sit back and enjoy the show while waiting for me to show the first sign of weakness."

The man who had spoken first shifted in his seat, his smugness faltering under your sharp gaze. You tilted your head slightly, letting a small, knowing smile curve your lips.

"And if you're truly desperate for 'tradition', perhaps you should remember one of the oldest traditions in business: adapt or get left behind. Now tell me, gentlemen—do you really want to risk being the ones slowing the company down, especially when your salaries allows you to live your luxurious lives to the fullest?"

Your assistant smirked from his seat, clearly enjoying the way with how the board aren't able to reply.

"Good," you said, rising to your full height with effortless grace. Beomgyu was quick to stand as well, holding his iPad tightly in his left hand. "Then unless someone here has the courage to admit they're against the company's success, this meeting is over. Have a good day, gentlemen."

And just like that, you walked out, heels clicking against the floor as you left them in stunned, furious silence.

~

"Hello, this is your pilot speaking. We've officially touched down at Incheon International Airport. The weather for today seems to be fantastic, not too hot and not too cold. Temperature's ranging from twenty-five to twenty-nine degrees. To foreigners, welcome to Seoul and I hope you enjoy your time here. To the people of Seoul welcome home."

The plane came to a stop as the airport staff get to work on latching the transportable door to the plane while getting the luggage out. In the cockpit, two pilots remained where they were. They did a quick but detailed check on the plane's systems, ensuring everything isn't out of place or anywhere in the danger zone before stepping out, once all of the passengers have alighted the plane. Jay couldn't help but snort at how some of the air stewardess' faces fell when they noticed the silver, glowing wedding ring snugly wrapped around his friend's ring finger.

Jungwon glanced at his fellow co-pilot and friend from the corner of his eyes, bemused. The two were the last to alight from the plane, their respective luggage being dragged behind them. "What's so funny, hyung?"

"Thought I've gotten used to seeing you crushing every woman's dreams of marrying you, but turns out I'm wrong. Their reactions are priceless," he wheezed, reaching out to comfortingly rest his hand on the younger's left shoulder.

Jungwon rolled his eyes, "The hell are you talking about, hyung? You know our marriage isn't like that."

Jay hums, a knowing look glimmered in his eyes, "is it, though? But whatever, I'm just jealous that you get to marry the Nishimura (Name)."

Jungwon chose to remain silent, lips sealed shut as they smoothly passed through customs without any difficulties. They had finished their final leg of the day and are free for one week before they have to fly again. Being a pilot means spending most of your times traveling around the world. It was also his dream since young. To him, the thought of being able to fly to different countries—exploring their cultures and witnessing how different people lived different lives, it's an life-changing experience. And he wouldn't have it any other way.

However, his family doesn't have the same view as him. Jungwon comes from the Yang family—a family lined up with promising and talented doctors. His parents are the owners of a major chain of hospitals, with a promising group of staff that are able to perform feats that were deemed impossible.

Jungwon was supposed to follow his father's footsteps—taking over the business when his father retire. But, he didn't want that. He didn't want to spend the rest of his life wearing the white coat, conducting surgeries after surgeries and spending the rest of his life on solid ground.

He wants to be free, to be able to do whatever he wants without anyone holding him back.

The pilot returned to his shared apartment with you. It was only four in the afternoon, which means you won't be home until three to four hours later. This means Jungwon has the whole house to himself for the time being. The thought of that was enough to put his mind at ease. He made quick work of his uniform, tossing them into his laundry basket that was placed beside yours before stepping into the bathroom to take a much-needed shower.

Once he was done, he stepped out shirtless with a pair of comfortable, gray sweatpants and a towel draped around his broad shoulders. Jungwon didn't bother wearing a shirt, heading to the kitchen while drying his hair. Only for him to pause at the sight of you returning home.

"You're back early," he commented, leaning against the wall.

"Shut up, I'm not in the mood," you retorted, dumping your bag on the couch as you stormed to the kitchen, nearly ripping the fridge's door off with how aggressive you were.

Jungwon rolled his eyes, "You're always not in the mood. Makes me wonder how did you even become the CEO of your own company."

You froze, looking at him over your shoulder as you poured yourself a glass of water. "Excuse me? Yang Jungwon, I dare you to say it again."

He didn't backed down, didn't flinched when you fully turned to face him with the nastiest scowl on your face he had seen. "What? Are you deaf or something? I said, makes me wonder how did you even become the CEO of your own company."

He sneered, words dripping with disdain and continued, "Omegas like you shouldn't even be allowed to run your own business—"

You slammed the glass down on the kitchen counter with a harsh, abrupt force. It gave a sharp crack before bursting apart with a violent crash, water exploding across the surface. You didn't cared that your hand was bleeding and how the floor was getting soaked. You were too furious to care about the lingering, numbing pain.

"Yang Jungwon, may I remind you that I am where I am now because of my hard work and dedication. Unlike you, I didn't have to kiss my way up."

This time, it was Jungwon's turn to narrow his eyes, jaw tightening. "What are you talking about?"

You returned the sneer with equal amount of pettiness, "you know damn well what I'm referring to. I bet it's thanks to your parents' influence that lets you become a pilot. Must be nice to have a family who supports you."

Jungwon's eyes darkened and you smelled it before you sensed it. The way he lost control of his pheromones. It was feral, raw and impossible to ignore. The kitchen thickened with the scent—musky and wild, laced with something sharp that clawed at your lungs. It was the kind of presence that can make someone's instincts go on high alert, causing invisible alarm bells to ring. Most would have cowered on the spot, tail hidden between their legs and bowed their heads—a form of submission.

But, you weren't like them.

Your gaze never wavered. You met his eyes head-on, steady and unyielding—a silent challenge sparked between the two of you. Jungwon sighed, regaining control of himself and calmed down. His pheromones were gone, vanishing into thin air as he pushed himself off the wall, ready to walk away but he paused, turning his head towards you.

"You know, you're awfully brave for an omega. But you should think twice before you speak, unless you're asking to be punished," he said and left you alone in the kitchen without waiting for your response.

~

It has been three days since that brief and intense argument with Jungwon. Both of you simply refused to speak to one another, acting like two immature children, despite how you're literally two mature, grown adults.

You had told (more like ranted) to Beomgyu about how infuriating, how annoying and how tiring it is to deal with him for the past one hour or so. The two of you are on the way to a work event—to attend a fashion show that your company had taken part in. After all, it was only right for the owner herself to make an appearance.

"..I just don't get it. Would it kill him to serve his duty as my husband just for a single fucking day?" You spat, furiously tapping your finger on the armrest of your seat as you watched everything moved past you in a blur.

Beomgyu sat beside you, humming while his fingers flew across his screen at lightning speed. You turned to him, snatched his phone out of his grip, much to his dismay.

"Hey, give that back!" He exclaimed, reaching forward with the intention of taking back what rightfully belonged to him.

You merely moved away, raising your hand behind you, "Nuh uh, as my personal assistant, it's your job to listen to your boss when she's talking to you."

Beomgyu scoffed, "Please, I'm not getting paid enough to listen to you whining about your marriage problems. I already have enough to deal with."

Smack!

"Ow! What was that for!?" He yelped, rubbing his upper left arm—the very same spot that you had smacked him at.

"That was for disrespecting your boss," you retorted, finally handing him his phone when the car came to a stop, arriving at your destination.

Beomgyu muttered something inaudible under his breath as he got out, walking around the car to open the door for you. You accepted his hand, allowing him to help you out of the vehicle as you wrapped your hand around his right arm. Blinding cameras flashes greeted you the moment you were out, nearly making you see white with how bright it was, despite how you had gotten used to it. Your assistant, on the other hand, made a strangled sound at the back of his throat, caught off-guard with the flashes.

Plastering a professional smile on your face, you leaned closer to him so you can whisper to him, "Please smile for the cameras or I'll kick you in the balls."

"…Isn't this work abuse?"

After having your pictures taken, you were guided to the venue where the event was held. Or more specifically, where you have to spend the next hour or so mingling about in the crowd as you talk to different guests and celebrities who were invited. Everyone's eyes were on you the moment you entered, making your grip tightened on Beomgyu's arm. The way he lets out a pained, startled hiss went unnoticed by you.

"Well, look who it is! Nishimura (Name) has blessed us peasants with her royal presence!" A familiar voice caught your attention. A voice that instantly made your shoulders sagged with relief.

A young woman dressed in a black, glimmering dress approached you with a wide, friendly smile on her face. She opened her arms and you accepted her hug offer, allowing yourself to be embraced by her. You were the first to pull away, hands resting on her shoulders as your eyes scanned from head to toe.

"Hey Karina, good to see you. How was Europe?" You asked, laughing at the way she rolled her eyes, not bothering to hide her frustration.

"Ugh, don't remind me about that. It was a pain in the ass. Imagine having to spend two weeks in a foreign country where their staple food is bread, bread and bread," she bemoaned, acting as if she's about to faint.

"I see you're still the drama queen you are," Beomgyu commented, approaching the two of you with three glasses of cocktail held in his hands.

Karina accepted one of the glass with a playful scowl, "I see you're still employed," she paused to turn to you, "if you need another assistant, I'm available."

"Yah! Don't steal my job," Beomgyu protested, his eyes widening as he handed you a glass of cocktail, to which you accepted it while laughing at your friends' antics.

Karina and Beomgyu go a long way back. The three of you have known each other since college, despite taking different majors. It was thanks to some common modules that you took that made you befriended one another. The three of you are glued to the hip but despite that, they were clueless about your secondary gender, assuming that you're an omega. There were times when you secretly envied Karina, as she too, is also a female alpha. Unlike you, she didn't have to hide.

Beomgyu's a beta—something that shocked you and Karina but he wasn't upset about it. He had even made some jokes, about how he didn't have to deal with Karina 'stinking up the whole place when she's in rut', leading to her delivering a well-deserved smack to his poor shoulder.

"As much as I wish to keep talking, I need to walk around and talk to other people," you sighed, reluctantly pulling yourself away from the conversation.

Karina whined, hands grabbing onto your wrist—a poor attempt to stop you, "Are you sure you need to?"

You flashed her a what you hoped was an reassuring smile, nodding as you gently pried her hand away from your wrist, "I'm sure. Gyu can stay with you. I can handle this myself."

Your assistant arched an eyebrow but nodded, "If you say so, boss. But let me know if if you need help."

You hummed before turning to walk away. Being a CEO means you have to maintain your current business relationships and at the same time, build new relationships too. It's all part of survival—one of the basics you had learnt and how your company was able to survive and reached where it was today.

"Excuse me, you must be Yang (Name), right?" An unfamiliar male voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

You looked over your shoulder, to see an unfamiliar man wearing a customized Prada suit. Still, you didn't want to come off as rude—not in a place like this where one wrong move means it's the end of your career. Which was why you plastered on a fake, professional smile as the man stopped before you, leaving some distance between the two of you.

"Hello, and you are…?" Your voice trailed off, unsure of how to address him.

"Ah, I'm Minjae. I'm here on behalf of my father's company. Here's my business card, if you're keen to collaborate in the future," he introduced himself, reaching into his breast pocket of his suit to pull out his name card that contains his contact information and hands it to you.

You accepted it with a thankful smile on your face, bowing slightly. "Thank you. I'm sorry but I didn't bring my card with me."

Minjae laughed, waving off your words with his hand. "It's fine, don't worry about it," he paused, shoving his free hand into the pocket of his pants, "I've heard a lot about your company. People say you're difficult to impress, but I think they are wrong."

You returned the smile but it doesn't reach your eyes. "Well, I'd like to believe professionalism isn't the same as being difficult, Mr MInjae."

He chuckled in, leaning in as if he's about to tell you a secret. "Of course. Still, you seem…different in person. Warmer and more…human." His gaze lingered, eyes scanning your features in a way that had your shoulders stiffening.

You shifted slightly, taking a step back but Minjae was quick to follow, closing the distance by stepping forward. “You know,” he continued, voice dropping low, “it must be exhausting, holding up such a perfect image all the time. Don’t you ever get tired of it?”

"Thanks for your concern, but I can manage on my own," you replied, tightening your grip around your own glass of half-empty cocktail.

He smirked, amused by your reaction, and leaned closer still—close enough for his cologne to mix with the faint tang of his pheromones. “You don’t have to hide it with me. I can tell there’s more to you than the CEO mask. I can almost…” He tilted his head, his nose brushing dangerously close to your hairline, “…catch your real scent.”

"…(Name)?"

Your body went as still as statue at his voice. The practiced smile you wore slipped. The voice was painfully familiar, one you haven't heard in years but one you could recognized in a heartbeat. You turned, body moving on autopilot mode and there he stood. Nishimura Riki, your older brother. He was older, taller and sharper now. Unlike before, he was dressed in designer clothes from head to toe—a sign he had achieved his dream.

For a split second, the memories came rushing back—the way he stood there, watching without lifting a single finger, the way he remained silent when you needed him most and the way he watched as you were dragged away by your parents. That was the last time you had seen him. And now, here he was, at an event, calling out to you as if those years of abandonment and silence didn't exist in the first place.

Your brother's eyes flickered between you and Minjae, only for them to narrow when he noticed how close the man was to you. Riki closed the distance with six large strides, shoving himself in between the two of you. He protectively stood before you, shielding you from Minjae's view.

"I'll suggest for you to walk away and leave my sister alone," he snarled, losing control of his pheromones for a split second. But it was enough for the people nearby to pause in whatever they were doing, subtly listening in on the conversation.

Minjae scoffed, stepping back—no doubt intimidated by your brother. He didn't spared you a second glance and walked away, leaving you with yoru brother.

Your grip on your glass tightened. The professional facade you wore wavered, threatening to crack at any moment. Every instinct screamed at you to keep walking, to pretend you didn't hear him. But his eyes—your brother's eyes—were pleading, begging you to stay. You nearly laughed out loud at the irony. At how the tables had turned. You snapped back to reality, tearing your eyes away from him and turned, ready to walk away but Riki was faster. All it took was six large strides to close the distance.

He grabbed your wrist, his fingers touching, "Wait, please," he begged, voice cracking at the end.

You couldn't turn to face him. Or maybe, you didn't want to. You squeezed your eyes shut, pointedly looking ahead. "…Riki, let go," you demanded, your voice soft but audible enough for his ears, fully aware of how some people were watching.

"No, I'm not making the same mistake again," he insisted, his grip tightening slightly, enough to elicit a pained hiss from you.

"Oh, really? That's what you think this is? Just another mistake?" You barked out, spinning around to fully face him. Your cocktail spilt from the glass but you ignored it, focused on your brother.

Riki faltered. "No, I—"

You did a quick scan of your surroundings, sighing and grabbed his wrist with your free hand, tugging him forward. "Come with me."

He tripped over his feet as he matched your pace. "Wait, where are we going?"

"Somewhere quiet so no one can see me beating the shit out of you."

You ended up dragging him to the open-aired garden located behind. Thankfully, there weren't anyone around as most were enjoying their time in the part. Most except the two of you, that is. You released your grip on Riki's wrist once you were certain no one's able to eavesdrops on your conversation. Your previous glass of cocktail was returned to a passing waiter and now your hands are free. Crossing your arms, you cocked your head to the side and raised an eyebrow.

"Well? Start talking, I don't have all day for this," you snapped, tapping your left foot impatiently on the ground.

Riki scratched the back of his head. "..I'm sorry for everything. I really am."

You scoffed, "That's it? After all those years, that's all you have to say for yourself? You think one lousy apology is going to fix anything? To make up for what you had done?"

His hands curled into fists, the familiar restlessness he always carried visible in the way his shoulders shifted. “I know I should’ve done more. I should’ve protected you. I should’ve—”

“You should’ve been my brother!” you snapped, the words tearing out of you before you could stop them. Your voice cracked, but you didn’t let it falter. “Do you know how pathetic it felt, begging you over and over to say something, to stand up for me? And every time, you just—” you laughed bitterly, “you pushed me away like I was a burden.”

Riki's jaw tightened, guilt flickered across his face. "I thought if I distanced myself, they won't keep targeting you anymore."

You shook your head, feeling your anger rising. "You weren't protecting me, Riki. You were protecting yourself. And you left me alone in the house with them while you get to walk away and live your life, forgetting about me completely."

His lips opened then closed. Like he wants to say something but he didn't know what to say. Like words had failed him.

"I don't accept your apology. You don't deserve forgiveness from me, not when you came waltzing back into my life, like nothing happened."

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "Just… go back to your world, Riki. And leave me to mine. We're already strangers and it's best to keep it this way."

And just like that, you walked away without waiting for his response, leaving your older brother there, in the shadows where he had chosen to stay the entire time.

~

You regrouped with Karina and Beomgyu as it was time for everyone to take their seats, due to the fashion show about to begin.

They frowned when they saw your expression, knowing something had happened the moment you left their sides. But before they could say anything, you silenced them by shaking your head, not wanting to talk about it in public, where anyone and everyone can hear. All of you took your respective seats by the runway. Karina had to sit at the front with her boss while you and Beomgyu sat at a few seats down the first row.

The lights dimmed, a hush falling over the audience as the first beats of music pulsed through the venue. You elegantly crossed your right leg over your left leg, back straight—giving the impression that you were calm, cool and collected, despite how you had shouted at Riki a few minutes ago.

The spotlight shifted, illuminating the first model striding down the runway in the upcoming season's most anticipated pieces. The audience shifted into soft murmurs of approval, flashes from cameras scattered across the catwalk. You couldn't help but leaned forward slightly, the faintest trace of satisfaction curled in your chest. This is your world—where you rightfully belonged, where you can breathe freely without anyone watching your every movement.

And then your breath hitched.

The next model to appear was none other than your brother. From where you sat, as the audience, you were finally able to understand why Riki was one of the most sought models in the industry. It was the way he carried himself, with full confidence. It's the type of confidence that demands people to look at him, to have their eyes focused on him—like he's the main attraction of the show. It was the way he walked—like he owns the runway.

You went still when his eyes landed on your face for a split moment as he stopped at the end of the runway. You were the first to break eye contact, unaware of how your action made your brother's heart ached as he walked back, disappearing to the backstage. The rest of the event past in a blur of an eye and soon, it was time for you to head home. You didn't say anything, resting your head against the window while Beomgyu drove you back. You thought he won't say anything but you were wrong.

"..Did you talked to him?" He asked, voice soft and laced with concern.

"Depends on who you're referring to," you dryly replied.

Beomgyu sighed. "You know who I'm talking about. Your brother."

You visibly flinched, like the words were poison. You parted your lips, wanting to protest or lie but one look from him tells you otherwise. "He's the one who approached me first. He told me he wanted to apologize for not keeping in contact and is asking for forgiveness."

You let out a bitter laugh under your breath at the end of your sentence. You could feel the way your friend and personal assistant eyeing you with concern. Beomgyu knew about your rocky relationship with Riki. But there wasn't much he could do, not when he was considered an outsider and doesn't hold the Nishimura name.

It didn't took you long to reach home and you paused when you saw Jungwon seated on the couch, his laptop resting on his lap. He wasn't dressed in his pilot uniform, now dressed like he had been home for a few hours. He wore a comfortable, grey long-sleeves shirt with a pair of black sweatpants. There was a pair of rimmed glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. You were able to see he was typing an email, due to his glasses reflecting his laptop screen.

"What happened to your flight?" You asked, removing your high heels, groaning at how you were finally able to touch solid ground as you padded, barefooted to plop yourself down on the other, empty couch.

"It got cancelled and moved to next week," he answered, eyes never leaving the screen.

You hummed, not bothering to voice out your response as you remained seated—

"…What's that smell on you?" Jungwon asked, voice unusually cold and laced with something else. Something you couldn't quite put your finger on.

"What are you talking about?" You answered, bemused.

Snap!

It seems like your response had rubbed him the wrong way. Your husband closed his laptop with a loud, resounding snap that echoed in the living room. Setting his laptop aside, he got up and slowly approached you. Jungwon stopped until he was standing before you, between your parted legs. Your breath caught when he leaned down, resting one hand on the left of your head while the other rested on the armrest—blocking off any possible exits.

With how close he was, you were able to get a whiff of his pheromones—woody mixed with faint vanilla and… baby lotion? You blinked, taken aback by the unexpected discovery. But you didn't get a chance to bring it up, not when Jungwon was looking at you like… that. Like he was actually looking at you.

"Don't play dumb with me," he murmured, voice lowering an octave and oh, you've never heard him speak in such a low tone before. Just hearing it made your heart skips a beat. You were tempted to close your thighs and rubbed them together for some form of friction—but you couldn't. Not with him standing in between your legs.

His eyes trailed painfully slow down your neck, lingering longer than usual on where your scent gland was located before it went up to your lips and then last but not least, your eyes. "You reek of it."

You frowned. "Reek of what? Stop talking in riddles."

Jungwon's jaw clenched, eyes narrowing into slits. You could tell the alpha residing in him was slowly stirring to life and he's fighting against it. For now. "Someone else. Someone else who's not me, managed to lay their hands on you," he spat, venom evident in his tone.

The tension in the air thickened and you could smell his pheromones being unconsciously released into the air. It invaded your senses, just enough to make you feel light-headed and for heat to start pooling in your stomach. You were sure if you're an omega, you'll already be leaking and dripping over the couch. You dryly swallowed, trying to ignore how your body was all tingling and fuzzy.

"I was at a event. People brushed past me. It happens," you explained, trying to maintain an even tone. But the way your husband's eyes darkened tells you he doesn't believe it.

"You expect me to believe this—" His hand flexed against the armrest, knuckles turning white and you swore you saw the muscles in his arms moved, "is from someone who was just brushing past?"

You parted your lips but he was faster. He leaned in closer, ducking his head to brush his nose against the outline of your jaw. You couldn't help the gasp that left your lips when he audibly inhaled your scent. "It's too strong," he growled, "too deliberate. Like he was too close."

You went still, heartbeat pounding in your ears.

"And I don't like it."

Out of pure instinct and habit, you stood your ground and flashed him your signature smirk—taunting, coy and sly. "And what are you planning to do about it?"

Instead of answering verbally, your husband chose to reply via actions. His hand moved, gripping your chin, tilting your head in just the correct angle for him to crash his lips against yours in a intense, fiery kiss. You gasped, taken aback as Jungwon pressed you further into the couch until you had to tilt your head back, with how pushy he was. Your husband rested his right knee on the couch, eliciting another gasp from you when he moved his knee closer to your clothed core.

"You piss me off so much. Walking around like you own everything," he growled against your lips, his hands now moving like they have a mind on its own, struggling to get rid of your clothes.

"But I do and that includes you," you retorted and flames of anger ignited in his narrowed eyes.

In one smooth, fluid movement, Jungwon flipped you over and forced you down to your knees.

Your mind spun, unable to comprehend that a few seconds ago, you were seated on the couch. He gripped onto your chin, nails borderline digging into your skin with his thumb resting on your bottom lip. He tugged it down, smirking in approval at how you let him do what he pleased. Your husband stretched out his long legs, leaning further back into the couch with his free hand resting on the couch.

"Since you like to act bratty and smart, why not put that mouth of yours to good use, hm?" He cocked his head to the side, lifting an eyebrow—challenging you to take the leap of faith.

You paused, looking up at him with your hands clenched in fists, resting on your lap. You didn't expect him to snap but something about the way he looked, the way he sat and the tone he used made your stomach tighten. Your ears turned red when you realized that your panties were already wet. And you can only pray that Jungwon won't be able to notice. You felt him moving his hand up, tracing your face and then—

He tugged you closer, until your face was squashed against his cock. You were able to feel the outline of it, hanging thick and heavy between his legs. The thought of him filling you up, splitting you into half made you clenched down on nothing and your panties were sticking onto your damp pussy, like it's your second skin.

Your eyes darted up, to see him waiting with an expectant look on his face. Ignoring how your face was heating up, you raised your trembling hands, about to pull the zipper down when he tugged at your hair, drawing a pained yelp from you.

"Ah ah, I didn't say anything about using hands, did I?" He clicked his tongue.

You were almost tempted to tell him off, to say something snarky but the look in his eyes made you think twice. Hence, you dropped your hands, leaning forward and used your mouth to nip onto the edge of the zipper. Your eyes flickered up, seeing how he didn't stopped you as he watched, gaze unblinking and unwavering.

You slowly moved your head down, the soft sound of the zipper coming undone being the only thing heard in the spacious living room. You subtly gulped when you saw the visible bludge, his cock poking against the restraints of his boxers. There was even a dark stain on it.

"Go on, take it off," Jungwon commanded in a soft, firm tone and it was only right for you to obey.

This time, you were given permission to use your hands. He lifted his hips off the couch, aiding you in removing his boxers and pants, leaving them to pool around his ankles, not bothering to toss it aside. You were immediately greeted with his hardened cock standing upright. The tip had already turned a ferocious shade of red.

You decided to test the water first by giving kitten licks to the mushroom tip, causing Jungwon to sharply inhale at the mere contact. He tightened his grip in your hair, nails digging into the couch as he fight against the urge to rock into your mouth.

"Shit, your mouth," he groaned, tilting his head back to expose his neck. You had to tear your eyes away from how his Adam's Apple bobbed up and down.

Filled with newfound determination to make him crumble, you took him whole without stopping. Warm, salty tears prickled the corners of your eyes as you fought to adjust to the grith and size of his cock. But you were rewarded with him gasping and choking out your name. His thigh muscles flexed and unflexed. You made a gagging sound when you felt him hitting the depths of your throat, the vibration making him let out a low moan, causing goosebumps to form.

"Wonder how the public will react if they see you like this. On your knees and sucking your husband's cock, like the desperate whore you are," he sneered, tilting your head back slightly, chuckling at how your eyes had turned glassy with a singular tear droplet trickling down your cheek.

Jungwon used his thumb to rub it away—the action so sweet despite your current situation. However, it ended as fast as it started. He tugged you closer, spreading his legs further apart until he feels the faint burning from his thighs muscles. He couldn't take it anymore, fucking into your mouth as he greedily chased after his incoming climax. You had no choice but to sit prettily on the floor, slackening your jaw as much as possible and wary to not let your teeth accidentally graze against him.

The usual quiet living room was filled with the lewd sounds of his cock sliding in and out of your mouth—almost as if he's actually fucking your pussy. Just thinking about it made you whimpered, the sound muffled and sending a wave of vibrations that made him moaned.

"You're gonna let me cum in your mouth, don't you?" He groaned, his thrusts growing sloppier as every second passed, feeling the invisible rubber band threatening to snap into half.

You subtly nodded your head, tilting your head up to look at him with teary, doe eyes and Jungwon swore, spilling down your throat. He pulls out with a soft 'pop', forcing you to open your mouth and smirked, satisfied when you had swallowed his cum without wasting a drop. He gently patted your left cheek, treating you like you're his pet.

"Good girl, guess you've found another usage of your mouth," he croons, pulling his boxers and pants up while tucking his now soft cock back into his boxers. Jungwon ran a hand through his hair as he rose to his full height.

Your hand shot out before your mind could think, grabbing onto his wrist. He looked down at you—still kneeling on the carpeted floor. "Yes?"

"W-What about me?" You stammered, swallowing your pride and dignity.

Your husband blinked twice and laughed. Leaning down, he cupped your chin with one hand, tilting your head up to look him in the eyes. "If you really think I'm gonna help you, you're wrong. Do it yourself."

And just like that, your annoying, infuriating and good-looking husband retreated to his room, leaving you in the living room, desperate for some form of release for your pent-up state. You had to wobble your way back to your own room on trembling legs. And if you spend the next one hour or so fingering yourself even though it can't be compared against the real thing, then that's only for you and your room to know.

~

"What's up with you?"

"Huh?" Jungwon blinked, snapping back to reality when his fellow co-pilot asked.

They were already in the cockpit of the plane, ready to embark on their first and only leg of the day. Normally, Jungwon would prefer to spend a few days in another country but this time, he chose to take a flight back to Seoul instead. The pair have completed their required check of the plane's systems, ensuring everything was in top condition and are now waiting for passengers to board the plane. If Jungwon listened closely, he can hear the crew greeting them one by one while giving them directions to their seats.

"You've been spacing out lately. Please don't do that when we're flying later," his friend and co-pilot pointed out in a half-joking tone, an attempt to lighten the mood.

The younger rolled his eyes as he leaned back into his seat. "I won't, don't worry hyung. I'm just…" He paused, hesitating on how to finish his sentence and that got Jay's attention.

"Just what?"

Jungwon lets out a long, heavy sigh as he ran a hand through his blond hair. "..There's something weird about (Name)."

Jay arched an eyebrow, faint curiosity seen in his eyes. "Oh? What kind of weird are we talking about here? Does it involve the bedroom?"

His cheeks turned red as he shoots the older a glare. "No, it doesn't, get your mind out of the gutter. But seriously, we've been married and lived under the same roof for a while now but I realized she's never been in heat."

Silence.

"Isn't she an omega?" Jay questioned and Jungwon nodded without hesitation, chewing on his bottom lip while he's deep in thought.

"Yea, she is. But I don't get it. The way she acts is more of an alpha rather than an omega," he replied, thinking back to the way you stood your ground, never bowing or showing any signs of submissions to him and that only intrigued him further.

Jay hummed, glancing at a screen to see that the door had been slammed shut—a sign that all of the passengers had boarded and are ready for take-off. The two immediately got to work, pressing on buttons and moved the plane down the runway.

"I won't think too much if I were you. Right now, I need you to focus," the older commented, slipping on the headphone that has a mic connected to it, hovering near his mouth.

Jungwon rolled his eyes as he does the same. "Yes mom."

"Don't call me that!"

~

While Jungwon was about to embark on his flight, you have spent the past two to three hours coped up in your office.

Being the CEO of a company means you have countless reports to read through, documents to sign and approve and many, many unnecessary meetings to attend. As it was a new month, the monthly meeting with the board will be happening in an hour from now, after lunch. But with the way piles of papers kept appearing on your desk, you knew you won't have the time to head out to grab a bite.

"I knew you'll still be here."

Beomgyu deadpanned, barging into your office without bothering to knock. You didn't have the time or luxury to even retort, eyes glued to your monitor as your fingers flew across your keyboard at lightning speed. He dumped a takeaway plastic container right in front of you, ignoring the annoyed glare you thrown his way.

"Gyu, seriously?" You practically hissed like a cat.

Your assistant was unfazed, plopping down in the chair opposite of you and pulled out a container for himself. "What? I'm feeding you so stop looking at me like you wanna kill me. Now eat, before I shove food down your throat."

He threatens, a dangerous glint in his eyes. His words made you remembered how he had done something similar, back when you were in college. That made you gulped, fearing for your life for a moment and you obediently dug into your food, feeling the flavors exploding in your mouth with every bite you took. The two of you ate in silence until Beomgyu broke it by him awkwardly clearing his throat.

"By the way, your brother texted me."

You choked on your food at his words, repeatedly whacking your chest with your closed fist. Beomgyu cursed, rushing to your side and patted your back while aiding you to stop choking on your food. He handed you a plastic bottle of water, to which you gulped it down without hesitation. Coughing, you wiped your mouth with some pieces of tissue papers.

"What did he text you for?" You asked, wincing at how hoarse your voice sounds.

Beomgyu swallowed his mouthful of food. "..He wants to talk to you, (Name)."

You sighed, about to say something but he cuts you off. "No, I know what you want to say. I get it, you have every right to be mad at him but look, give him a chance, please? There's no harm in hearing him out."

"But—"

He shots you a pointed look and that's enough for your shoulders to slump in defeat. "…Fine, I'll hear him out."

"Great!" His face lit up and the drastic change of his behavior gives you whiplash.

Once you were done with lunch, it was time for you to head to the meeting room. You and Beomgyu were the first to arrive and while waiting for the board, you chose to scroll through your phone, only for you to freeze when you see a message from Jungwon. It wasn't rare for him to text you but you weren't sure why your heart stopped beating when you saw his name in your notification. You clicked on it and the text was sent a few hours ago. You can only assumed he had sent it before he flew off.

Jungwon: We need to talk when I'm back. It's important and it's about you.

You nearly dropped your phone when you read the message. It was simple and straight to the point. You couldn't help but wonder just what he wants to discuss and how it was related to you. Putting your phone away, you tapped your fingers on the table as you bit down on your bottom lip.

Unless.. No, it couldn't be. He doesn't know about my secondary gender yet.

The board chose that time to enter as they take their respective seats and soon, the meeting begins. But you couldn't find it in yourself to listen to a single word of what the speaker was saying. About fifteen minutes into the meeting, you were starting to sweat. You were also starting to grow restless, unable to stop fidgeting in your seat—a rare occurrence for you as you're perfectly capable of sitting still while pretending that you're paying attention to the meeting.

"…Before we continue, Ma'am, do you have anything to add?" One of the board turned to you, apparently taking note of your current state.

Everyone's eyes were on you. Normally, you were able to keep your cool and reply smoothly but today, something was wrong. Your mind wasn't working as it should be. Your body was tingling all over, mind spinning slightly and your clothes were starting to stick to you. Your breathing was ragged and haphazard, fingers curled into tight fists with your nails digging into your palms.

The board however, were mildly amused with your dilemma. "Ma'am, is something wrong? Are you feeling unwell? Your face's unusually red."

They asked, faux politeness laced in their tone. You snarled before you could control yourself.

Silence.

The meeting room went silent and everyone went still, not even the sound of breathing was heard. The board shared a quick look among themselves and invisible alarm bells rang off in your mind. You knew they were up to something when one of them begin speaking, clearing his throat.

"Ma'am, forgive us if this is a rude question: are you an alpha?"

Your throat tightened. Every instinct screamed at you to keep your facade up, to continue playing the act, the role you were forced into. Because once the truth is out, there is no going back. The damage done to you, your hard-earned reputation and the future of your company will be washed down the drain in a blink of an eye.

You forced out a sharp laugh, cocking your head to the side as if the words hadn't made your stomach churned in anxiousness. "What kind of question is that? Are you questioning your boss?"

But the edge in your voice betrayed you. To make matters worse, it was your body that was betraying you—heat prickled beneath your skin, your pulse racing as the telltale haze of rut was beginning to cloud your mind. You could feel it pressing against your control and if this were to drag on any longer, you feared you might lose control of yourself, right in front of the board.

And you knew they have been waiting for a chance to overthrow you. Right now, you were practically giving them a rare opportunity that's served on a silver plate.

"I'm clearly not—" The words caught, your breath coming out even more uneven than it already is. The weight of the board's gaze pinned you down onto your seat, like a pack of hungry wolves, waiting to pounce on you.

Before the silence could begin again, Beomgyu pushed his chair back with deliberate force, the scrape against the marbled, polished floor resonated among the walls. "That's enough."

The board members flinched at his tone, their murmurs dying instantly. He straightened himself, his expression calm but his eyes were dark, holding an unspoken warning that none of them have the courage to go against or disobey. "We'll continue when the boss is in a better condition. The meeting is over."

He didn't wait for a response, already guiding you out of the suffocating room with a gentle grip on your arm. The heavy doors shut behind you, muffling the whispers that immediately erupted the moment you stood up. Beomgyu managed to bring you back to your office and your composure shattered. Your chest rose and fell in ragged breaths, hands trembling as you clutched at your blazer.

"Gyu—I—I can't," your voice cracked, panic clawing at the edges of your heart, voice and mind. The rut was coming too fast, and the humiliation of it happening now, when you're at work, made your vision blur and head spin.

Cursing, Beomgyu steadied you while gently forcing you to sit down on the couch. He knelt before you, hands firmly resting on your shoulders. "Hey, hey, look at me. Breathe with me. You're not alone in this. You got me, alright?"

You frantically shook your head, eyes looking at the floor. "They know. They're going to use this against me—Fuck, I can't—I can't breathe—"

"I know," he said quickly, tightening his grip just enough to anchor you but not to hurt you. He will never hurt you. His eyes did a quick, calculative scan of your office and then he swore under his breath. There was only one person who could help you through this, even if you hated the thought.

He pulled out his phone with his right hand while his other hand continued resting on your shoulder, punching in a familiar string of numbers—numbers that belong to someone you have never contacted before.

The caller immediately picked up on the second ring.

"Riki, it's your sister. She needs you. Now."

It only takes the model approximately fifteen minutes for him to reach the office. He stormed into the room, slamming the door open with intense force that it banged against the wall that startled Beomgyu. His usual cool composure was nowhere to be seen. His eyes scanned the room until they landed on your seated, trembling figure on the couch. The next thing he knew, your brother was immediately by your side.

"(Name)," he murmured, crouching low, his voice edged with something akin to urgency. "Hey, your rut's starting, isn't it?"

Beomgyu, who was silent the entire time, blinked in disbelief. "Wait, hold on. What do you mean by her rut's starting? That doesn't make any sense. She's an omega and omegas can't—"

Riki shot him a sharp glare that's efficient in silencing him. "That's because she's not an omega."

The words dropped like a bomb. He froze, mouth opening and closing, like he wants to say something but he doesn't know what to say. Beomgyu looked down at you, taking note of how you were trembling like a fallen leaf, how you're trying to regain your composure.

"Then, is she—"

Riki nodded and that was all Beomgyu needed to know. "But, why didn't she tell me?"

The younger sighed, moving to carry his sister in his arms, letting you buried your face in his chest as you inhaled his scent to calm you down. "Because it's safer this way. I'm taking her home."

He didn't wait for the man's reply, already leaving the office as he headed to the car park, where his car was parked and where no one was able to see him and your current, vulnerable state.

By the time you reached home, you were tempted to rip your clothes off. Just the mere feeling of the fabric touching your skin is enough to give you the irk. Your rut was pressing down harder, your thoughts blending into instincts, shredding your usual self control to scraps. You pressed the heel of your left palm against your temples, groaning as you attempted to block out the heat that has been crawling under your skin for the past few hours. But your efforts prove to be futile.

"Sis, stay with me," Riki said firmly, placing you down on the couch. Your pheromones flared wildly, flooding the spacious living room with a sharp, dominant tang that made even he himself shift uneasily.

Riki could feel his pheromones acting up as well, out of pure instinct. But he didn't want a repeat of last time. He didn't want you to be alone again. He's grateful to Beomgyu for contacting him but this was as far as his assistance could go. Which was why he pulled out his phone, scrolling through his contacts list before tapping on a certain contact.

The line rang once, twice and then it's connected.

"Jungwon," Riki's voice was low and urgent, eyes never leaving your figure as you clawed at your own blazer, ready to tear it off your body. "It's your wife. She's in rut and she needs you, now."

There was a pause on the other line, followed by what sounded like an announcement in the background. Then Jungwon's voice came through, clipped and cut through. "I just landed."

Riki heaved out a sigh of relief, comfortingly rubbing circles on your back as you cling onto him like he's your lifeline. "Good, now get your stupid ass here before she loses it. And hurry, you don't have much time left."

~

The wheels of the plane barely kissed the runway when Jungwon's phone started buzzing in his pocket. He didn't think much of it, that was until he checked the Caller ID. Frowning, he answered it, remaining seated while waiitng for the plane door to be opened from the other end.

"Hello? Riki?"

"Jungwon, it's your wife. She's in rut and she needs you, now."

Hearing those words was enough to make his world flipped upside down. Right now, the pilot's currently stuck in the immigration. He kept checking his watch and then his phone, to see if there was any update from Riki. But all he got was silence. He tip-toed, checking the line of people ahead of him to see and then, he acted without thinking. He pushed his way through, ignoring the startled, offended gasps thrown his way as he bumped shoulders into the people around him.

He knew he wasn't acting professional but thankfully, he wasn't wearing his uniform so no one knows he's a pilot. He shoved his passport to the officer, ignoring how his hands trembled when the officer stamped and returned it to him. Jungwon was already sprinting down the concourse, weaving past the crowd as he headed to the pick-up point and practically leapt into the first cab he sees, slamming the door shut.

Jungwon gave the driver his address, hands curled into fists as they rested on his knees. "Drive, now."

When he reached home, he was greeted with your pheromones. It was so sharp, intense and heavy that it nearly knocked him off his feet. He could practically taste your pent-up frustrations and desperation and how you had been holding them back, for who knows how long.

"(Name)!" He called out your name, stopping a few feet before you. He scrunched his nose as every step he takes, your raging pheromones merely grew stronger in return.

Riki was crouched by the sofa, trying and failing to restrain you as you writhed, hands clawing at your own skin as though trying to tear the fire out of yourself. Sweat dampened your hair, your eyes blown wide and glassy, lips parted in broken, delirious gasps.

"She's about to be in her rut. Hyung, I trust you with her," Riki said, voice rough and strained.

Jungwon felt his chest tightened. You were already well past the point of reason—your actual rut had already started and had already engulfed you completely. He moved without hesitation, closing the distance in five large strides as Riki moved away. Woody warmth laced with vanilla filled the air—steady and grounding as it fights against your own scent.

The effect was instant. You stopped struggling, your frantic gasps caught in your throat as you raised your head, revealing your silted, hazy eyes. "J-Jungwon.." You called out, voice borderling trembling and fuck, the way you said his name made his breath hitched.

Riki's eyes flickered between the two of you before awkwardly clearing his throat. "I'll leave you to it. Just.. remember to use protection or else I'll kill you." The model patted the pilot's shoulder before scurrying out, not wanting to spend another second breathing in the same, suffocated air any longer.

He wasn't sure who was the one that closed the remaining distance but your mouths met in the middle, in a ferocious, intense and filthy kiss. Although, it can't be considered as a kiss, not when the both of you are fighting for dominance, trying to turn the tide to your advantage.

Jungwon wasted no time in sweeping you into his arms, carrying you bridal-style as he brought you to the bedroom, swallowing your startled gasp. You cling onto him, thighs subtly rubbing together to get some sort of friction at how he was able to carry you easily, like you weighed nothing.

He tossed you onto the neatly-made bed, tugging his knotted tie free with one hand and climbed over you. He grabbed your wrists, pulling them over his head and wrapped the fabric around your wrists, tying them into a tight knot. It's not tight enough to hurt but it's tight enough for you to know that you shouldn't disobey him.

He made quick work of your clothes, flinging your clothes over his shoulder until you're bare beneath him. You whimpered when he shoved his clothed knee in between your legs. A low groan was heard from Jungwon as you shamelessly grinded down on him, soaking the fabric of his pants wet with your slick.

"Look at you, pathetic little thing, grinding down on me and soaking my pants. Who'll have thought the confident and well put together (Name)'s just a needy little slut for her husband," he croons, voice dripping with faux sweetness.

Jungwon clicked his tongue when you attempted to hide your face. He reached out, cupping your face with his left hand with his thumb resting on your bottom lip. He gently tugged it down, satisfaction curling around the edges of his heart when you obeyed—parting your lips in pure submission.

And then, he spits into your opened mouth.

"Swallow it," he demanded in a firm, soft tone. Jungwon watched with pure fascination at how you obliged, your throat bobbed up and down as you swallowed. He tapped your cheek with his index finger and you opened your mouth. He tilted your head side to side, humming with approval written all over his face.

"Good girl," he purrs, noting the way your body shivered at his praise.

You mewled, tears prickling the corners of your eyes. "W-Wonie.." You called out his name, not even aware that you had used one of his nicknames instead of his full name. He chose to let it slide, knowing you're saying things due to your current state.

"Yes, baby? C'mon, use your words and tell me what you need," he coaxes, his free hand moving like it has a mind on its own, sliding his hand underneath the obstacle of your clothes. He's able to feel how hot your skin feels the moment his palm came into contact.

“W-wan’ more..” you begged, doe eyes full of pleading and want. You just wanted to feel his thick cock slide in and out of your velvety walls, filling you up—why does he have to be so difficult, damn it?

A low chuckle reverberates deeply in his chest at the view of how fucked out you already are simply by a few feather-light touches from his ice-cold fingertips against your warm skin, reminding him how he practically has you all wrapped around his finger without even trying. Jungwon’s calloused palms crawl their way up to the swell dip between where your breasts lay, fingers tapping against the heated skin provocatively, eliciting a sigh of frustration from the capsule of your pillowy lips.

“Come on..” you roll your teary eyes in annoyance, already fed up with his mean antics and to just get it over with.

“So bossy, where are you manners, missy?” He dramatically raises an eyebrow, forehead sightly wrinkling as a knowing grin etches across his stupidly attractive face that you wanted to rip off so badly.

“I think you need to be reminded who’s in control here,” his voice was laced with disappointment and amusement by your brattiness, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. You were about to murmur out a complaint when his fingertips finally caressed your nipples, immediately hardening at the soft brush to them.

“See?” Jungwon said matter of factly, as he began to proceed with his excruciating but pleasureful torture of twisting and pinching at your sensitive nub, whines and moans leaving the tip of your tongue as you writhe and spasm underneath him—red imprints appearing on your wrists by the tight bondage.

"F-Fuck you," you stammered through your snarky remark, flinching as he gave a mean, light pinch to your hardened nubs. You squirmed about on the sheets but there isn't anywhere for you to run or hide from him, not when your tied down.

"Yea? I'm sure you'll want that," he sniggered, shuffling down the bed to support his weight until he's situated between your legs. You attempted to close them, cheeks turning red with embarrassment at how Jungwon was looking at your dripping, throbbing pussy.

He lets out a low, breathy chuckle. "Are you sure you're an alpha? With how you're dripping like a faucet, I'll think you're an omega."

"You—ngh!" You snarled, your pheromones flaring up for a moment, only for it to die down when you felt a wet, rough muscle delivering a slow, fat stripe up your cunt. Your legs instinctively shot out, nearly kicking him in the face if Jungwon didn't held you down by your hips.

He rested his thumb on your clit, gently pressing down on it before rubbing it in slow, lazy circles. You swore you could feel his nose directly poking at your leaking hole as he gave kitten licks to your pussy, which flutters at every lick. The bedroom was filled with the lewd sounds of him eating you out and your moans that sounds nothing more than music to his ears.

"Fuck, should've done this a long time ago if I knew you taste this good," he groans, voice muffled with how he buried his face in between your legs. Every word he spoke sends vibrations down your body, drawing breathless whimpers from your bruised, swollen lips.

"Hah, t-too much," you moaned, struggling against the bondage. If your hands were free, you could have easily pushed him away but it wasn't, leaving you no choice but to take what your annoying husband is giving you.

You weren't even aware that Jungwon had released his grip on your hips or how you started grinding against his skillful mouth, back arching off the bed with your head tilted backwards, exposing your unmarked scent glands and the clean, unblemished skin of your neck. You panted, feeling a imaginary rubber-band slowly being stretched past its limit as Jungwon worked his magic on your pussy.

"G-Gonna cum, fuck," you moaned and then—

He pulled away.

You couldn't hold back the pure needy whine that left your lips at the loss of his slimy muscle that was pressed adjacent to your creamy walls. Your body twitched and convulsed in displeasure as the coil lies deep in your stomach gradually fades away, with every second that passes.

"N-No!" You protested, desperate for any type of release as your hips jerked upwards. Your throbbing, drenched cunt glistened and shines due to the sheer amount of slick dousing the dirtied, stained bedsheets, mixed with his spit—creating a filthy combination.

Jungwon barks out a low, mean laugh. His eyes twinkled in a dark, twisted satisfaction. "Needy little thing, aren't you? Not satisfied with my tongue?"

His words made you whined out loud, your pussy clenching down on nothing but thin air as a thick glob of slick trickled down your core. While you were too busy squirming and begging for his mercy, you weren't aware of how he had hopped off the bed, how he had headed to the bedside drawer, opening and closing it once he found what he was looking for. Fat, salty and warm tears droplets rolled down your cheeks as you sobbed, annoyed and aroused at his rough treatment—

Bzzt, bzzt.

And then, you heard a faint buzzing sound.

The pink vibrator that you swore you had hidden it well enough to avoid curious eyes and prying hands was now held in your husband's hand, standing tall and proud too. You stared at it for a moment, eyes darting between his face and the toy. Your mind immediately connects the dots, knowing what his intention was.

You hurriedly shook your head, squirming away as you moved up the bed but there wasn't much room for you to run to. "W-Wait, don't—"

Jungwon ignores your weak protests, now sitting on the edge of the bed. Grabbing you by your ankles, he tugged you towards him, eliciting a squeak from you. Jungwon hovers the vibrator directly over your dripping clit, drawing a loud, whorish moan from you—something you never thought you're capable of, as it vibrates against your swollen nubs.

He grinned, watching as you spasmed about. You attempted to close your legs but he was faster. Jungwon hooked his left leg over yours, firmly locking it against the edge of the bed. He pressed the vibrator more firmly against your clit, cooing at how you were reduced to a moaning, squirming and flustered mess.

"Fuck, if only you can see yourself right now," he breathed out in awe, drawing invisible horizontal lines on your bare ankle. "Imagine how the board will react if they were to see their boss like this," he paused, increasing the speed. His action made you cried out loud, the vibrator nearly entering your gaping pussy.

"Moaning and crying like an omega in heat, desperate to cum," he sneers, emphasizing on the words and kept increasing the speed until it reached the max.

"J-Jungwon—c-can't!" You whimpered, thrashing your head side to side when you felt the familiar feeling coming back. But this time, it was much more intense.

"Yes, you can. You wanna cum, don't you?" He coaxes, sounding like a siren as he hypnotize you to do his bidding and obey his words.

"P-Please!" You wailed, looking at him with your doe-like, hazy and clouded with lust eyes.

"Then cum," he demanded and you whined, blabbering words that sounded like 'thank you' and some curse words as you greedily and shamelessly rocked against the vibrator. Just when you were about to tip over the edge and all you needed was one final push—

Jungwon pulled the vibrator away.

You swore you have never felt this frustrated before. You raised your head, mustering the remaining strength you have left in your already pliant body to glare at your smirking, attractive husband. But the effect wasn't as effective as it would be, not with how you were sniffling and sobbing. Jungwon cocked his head to the side, acting all innocent and coy. He tossed the dirtied, soaked vibrator that's covered in your slick to the side.

"I did say cum but would you rather cum on that shitty pathetic excuse of a toy or," he grins, tilting your chin up to face him, "would you rather cum on my cock?"

Hearing the last two words was enough to make you nod your head at lightning speed. It's a miracle that you didn't dislocate your head from your neck. Jungwon chuckled, not bothering to fully undress himself as he only tucked down his pants and boxers, low enough to reveal his already hardened and neglected cock. It stood tall and proud, upright against his shirt, leaving a stain of precum on the pristine, white clean shirt.

Jungwon pushed you back, moving to his knees. He didn't bother grabbing the condom nor did you bother reminding him. All you could think about now was how you want to be filled on his cock. You watched, biting down on your bottom lip as he aligned himself against your entrance—

But, he didn't push in.

Instead, he rubbed his tip along your folds, collecting your slick as a lubricant. "Don't even need lube when you're fucking dripping all over my cock," he groaned.

"W-Wonie, please.. just.." Your voice trailed off, squirming as you attempted to move down so he could slide in but he clicked his tongue, raising his eyebrow—a silent and unspoken warning. You have no choice but to stay still, pouting and huffing your cheeks.

"Please what? Use your words, darling."

The sudden usage of the pet name makes your mind spins. "Please.. just fuck me already."

As much as Jungwon wants to keep teasing and edging you, he was reaching his limits. The moment you opened your mouth, about to retort with something was when he chose to enter in a solo plunge. Your overstimulated pussy reflexively squeezed around him at the painful but delicious stretch, earning an approved snarl that rumbled deep from his chest.

Your mouth dropped open, forming a silent 'O' shape at how you were being split apart. You swore you could feel his cock hitting the entrance to your womb. You mewled out loud at how his tip was pressing against that one spongy spot that's located against your delicate walls. Jungwon, on the other hand, felt like he was in heaven with how your gummy, velvety walls were clinging onto him with a vice-like grip, not wanting to let him go.

"Shit, you're so fuckin' tight," he groaned, ducking his head and bury it in the crook of your neck. His lips hovered right over your scent glands, causing goosebumps to form. One audible inhale from him and your sweet, aroused scent washes over him. It's so strong that he nearly cum right there and then.

Jungwon moved his hands, resting them on your hips to stabilize himself, starting off at a harsh, unrelenting and unforgiving pace. A breathless but loud moan was ripped from the back of your throat—needy, carnal and downright erotic. Your pussy was comically stretched wide around his member to accommodate the unusually large, girth size. The coil in your stomach enlarges as every second passed, by how heavenly full you felt, as he slides in and out of your soaked core.

As your wrists were still bound above your head, you could only lay beneath him, taking what he's willing to give you. His hips aggressively snapped against yours, balls slapping against your ass cheeks with every deep, harsh thrust from him. Jungwon grits his teeth, feeling them grinding down at how you tightened around him when he hits that one spongy spot, making you let out a gasp.

He wasted no time in using the newfound information to his advantage—changing the angle a little and threw your right leg over his broad, sturdy shoulders. The bedroom was now filled with the loud sounds of skin slapping against skin. You were certain that you could be heard all the way from the living room or the kitchen too.

"Look at you, taking me so well. It's like you're made for me, don't you?" He groaned, eyes trailing down to how your pussy lips are spread apart and how you easily take him in with no form of resistance. He smirked when he saw a ring of white, thick liquid forming at the base of his cock.

"Ngh, J-Jungwon—hah, please, moremoremore," you chanted, your rut taking over your mind, words and senses as you demand for more from your husband. And who was Jungwon to say no to his pretty, submissive wife?

With a growl, he threw your left leg over his shoulders as well, practically bending you into half. "You want more? What, this not enough for you? Maybe you should quit your job and stay at home, so I can fuck you anytime I want."

He lets out a breathless chuckle when you mewled at his crude words, cheeks red. "You like that, don't you? I'll have you spread out on any surface in the house—the dining table, the kitchen counter, anywhere I want. You'll let me eat this sweet little pussy of yours anytime I want, won't you?" Jungwon's left hand trailed down to give a mean pinch to your clit, laughing at how you visibly twitched at the sudden sensation.

"Jungwon!"

You whimpered, eyes rolling to the back of your head as his cock kept hitting the same spot, over and over again until you were seeing stars. "G-Gonna cum, p-please."

At first, you hesitated—having been denied your much-needed orgasm twice but unlike before, Jungwon didn't pulled out. Instead, his thrusts were growing sloppier and more erratic as he chases after his incoming climax. His hand moved to fondle with your poor, red and overstimulated clit, drawing high-pitched, hoarse moans from you.

"Then cum for me."

At his words, you cum with his name spilling from your lips, smooth like water. Jungwon was quick to follow suit, delivering one final, sharp and hard thrust that buries himself deep to the hilt as he spills thick and hot semen while painting your creamy walls white. He looked down when he felt something wet landing on his shirt, only for him to realize that you had actually squirted. The thought of him making you squirt made his cock twitched, even when he's still inside you.

You, on the other hand, was already long gone. You laid on the stained sheets, body twitching violently in aftershocks—blissfully unaware of the thoughts running through your husband's mind. The only form of warning you got was him flipping you over until you're awkwardly forced onto your hands and knees. You squeaked, knees trembling as you struggled to support your body weight.

"Jungwon—hngh!" You protested, but the words died down in your throat when he rocked his hips against yours.

He leaned down, mouth grazing against the shell of your left ear. You shivered when you felt him spreading your pussy lips apart from underneath. "If you think we're done here, then you're wrong. We're only done when I have you screaming my name until your voice's gone."

~

It has been one week ever since you had your rut.

One week for you to recover and regain your strength. One week was enough for things to change between you and Jungwon. This time, you were able to tolerate being in the same room as him. An prime example would be the first day after your rut was over, was when you woke up to his presence behind you. You looked over your shoulder, going still to see his sleeping face. This is the first time the two of you have slept on the same bed ever since you got married.

Your legs are intertwined underneath the sheets and one quick glance down your body tells you that you were dressed in one of Jungwon's shirt. The article of clothing was so big it completely engulfs your body, the hem reaching your thighs as it keeps slipping off your right shoulder.

You weren't sure why but you couldn't tear your eyes away from his face, shamelessly drinking in his features. With how close you are, you could literally see how long his eyelashes are—something most women envies. In a trance, you reached out to cup his right cheek with your right hand, breath hitching at how smooth his skin feels underneath your palm—

"What are you doing?"

You flinched, jerking your hand back but Jungwon was faster. He grabbed your wrist in a gentle grip as he stares at you with half-opened eyes. His voice was lower than usual, slightly rough around the edge, enough for you to squirm about, flustered.

"N-Nothing," you stuttered, internally cursing yourself when he chuckled. Not breaking eye contact, he pulled your wrist towards his lips, turning it to press a kiss on your palm.

Your face heats up, a sound that's a mixture of a squeak and a squawk left your lips at the sudden display of affection. You could feel him smirking against your palm, amused with your reaction.

"Y-You—!" You stammered, your mind lagging.

"I what? Cat got your tongue?" He interrupts, a devilish glint in his cat-like eyes. "You weren't this shy yesterday night."

At this point, you were certain your face had turned as red as a tomato and out of reflex, you grabbed the pillow underneath your head and threw it at him. And since this is Jungwon, he's able to knock your pathetic excuse of a weapon out of your hand before you even get the chance to throw it. He laughed at your reaction, pulling you closer so he could bury his face in the crook of your neck. You automatically stiffened up when he brushed his lips against your scent glands.

"You know, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I won't judge," he murmured, hands sliding underneath the shirt to draw circles on your hips.

You knew what he was referring to, despite how vague he was. "..No, I need to tell you—"

Knock knock.

The two of you went silent when you heard someone knocking on the locked door.

"Uh, hello? Are you two still alive? God, I can fucking smell the stench from here. You're gross," Riki's voice was heard from the other side of the door.

The moment you heard him, you shot up from the bed, attempting to throw on some clothes, only to get tugged back by Jungwon. You squeaked when your back hits a firm chest. "Don't make a sound," he murmured, sending goosebumps down your spine when he teasingly planted kisses down the expanse of your hickey-covered and marked skin.

"W-Wonie, he's outside—ngh," you harshly whispered, only to whimper when he bit down on a spot that made your mind blanks out.

Your husband hummed, forcing himself to pull away even though you tried to tug him back. "C'mon, you should get dressed and talk to Riki. He's been worried about you."

You averted your eyes upon hearing the last sentence but obliged nonetheless, getting out of bed with trembling legs. It's embarrassing with how you had to hold onto the wall to stabilize yourself. Seeing this, Jungwon snickered and you sent him a glare over your shoulder.

Knock knock knock.

"I swear, if you're still fucking, I'm gonna—"

"Oh my god, can you just wait in the living room!?" You cut him off, ears turning red as well.

Riki didn't replied but you managed to hear him mumbling something along the lines of how he's going to kill Jungwon as he walks away until you were greeted with silence again.

"So, I take it it went well?" Riki asked, jumping straight to the point as he leaned back, making himself comfortable on the couch with his arms crossed and his annoying long legs stretched out, like he owns the house.

You sat beside your husband, who merely shrugged his shoulders. "Well, we're able to tolerate one another now without having the urge to throw hands. So that's that."

You resist the urge to facepalm at his words. Your brother arched an eyebrow. His eyes flickered between the two of you, trailing down and he grimaced when he saw how you failed to hide the hickies on your neck. "Oh yea, for sure. I can tell there's a huge mosquito here too."

"Ni-ki! Why are you even here?" You hissed, attempting to change the topic.

Your brother's eyes lingered on your face longer than usual before he sighed, running a hand through his blond hair with a rather grim and solemn look on his face. "..I'm here because I think Jungwoonie deserves to know the truth."

You went still, feeling your husband's curious eyes moving to your direction for a moment.

"What do you mean? I only know she's not an omega but she's actually a alpha," the pilot pointed out, furrowing his eyebrows.

Riki nodded, "You're right about that. But there's more to that. And I know my sister will rather not bring it up, which is why I'm here, so she can tell you about it."

You narrowed your eyes, realizing this was his plan the entire time. "Ni-ki, you—"

"(Name), please. Just tell him," your brother begs you, his voice softening as he looks at you pleadingly. You were hit with a flashback of how he had looked at you the same way, back when the two of you were young.

You dug your nails into your palms, bitting down on your bottom lip. "..Fine, but this will take a while."

Jungwon nodded, "It's fine. I have time."

You inhaled, taking a deep breath and begin explaining.

~

You were nine when you realized something about you was different. You were unique and you're in another league, as compared to the other kids in your class. Your fellow classmates had started presenting—delicate little omegas praised for their softness, precocious betas encouraged for their balance.

You, on the other hand? You were restless, sharper.

Your instincts didn’t crave protection—they screamed dominance. You already knew what the results would be and the same can be applied for your parents. However, you could tell they were in denial, not wanting to accept the truth. Not wanting to accept the sheer fact that their daughter will be given a different fate, different than what they have planned for her.

But when the test results confirmed their worst fears and greatest nightmares—Alpha, your parents' faces went rigid and void of emotions. Just that one, single word was enough to turn their pride into something cold, ruthless and clinical.

"Alphas are reckless. They are unrefined and unfit for the image of our company. It will be a disgrace when the public finds out you're an alpha once the company's been handed to you," your mother had said, her voice clipped as she smoothed the wrinkles on her skirt.

Your father didn't disagreed. Instead, he simply ordered the doctor to change your medical record, to erase all signs of the results and to provide a fake version instead. To prove that you're an omega. The moment you got home, it was drills after drills.

They hired and assigned you many different instructors—lower your gaze, soften your tone and keeping your pheromones sealed tight until your glands ached. Every form of instinct you had was crushed under the heavy weight of rules, punishments and constant reminders of what you should be and must become, no matter what.

To make matters worse, Riki had witnessed it all. He had seen the way you cried yourself to sleep at night after hours of 'training', how you had clawed at your palms until they bled just to maintain your soft-spoken, delicate composure. Just for you to become someone you're not.

"O-Oppa, please.. help me.." You begged through your tears. Your small, trembling hands gripped onto the edge of his pants as you looked at him with your child-like, wide and teary eyes.

"Help me, Oppa. I.. I don't want to do this anymore.. It hurts…" You sniffled, weakly tugging at your older brother's clothes, hoping he will be able to help and to protect you from your parents.

Instead, you were roughly shoved backwards. You landed on the floor, watching from where you sat as Riki didn't spared you a second glance—like you're not worth his time as he walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

~

Your throat was burning and you were fighting the urge to break down right there and then when you finished recalling. You didn't dare to look in Jungwon's or Riki's direction, forcing a watery, bitter and broken smile on your face.

"They forced me to play the role of a perfect omega. To be soft-spoken and submissive—when everything about me is the exact opposite of what they wanted. I tolerated their torture until I was in college, where I met Karina and Beomgyu. That was also when I decided to move out and stay on my own, freeing myself from the prison I was thrown into. And Riki…"

You paused, raising your head slightly to look at your brother, who had nothing but pure shame and remorse written all over his face. "He didn't contact me after the day he pushed me away. The next thing I knew, he was already on the plane, flying to another country."

Jungwon narrowed his eyes. There was anger and something else you couldn't name, burning in those eyes. "So all this time.. you were alone?"

You let out a long, heavy sigh. "I was."

Riki's jaw tightened as he finally looked at you, but when he finally spoke, his voice was quieter than you had expected. "You think I didn't care. That I had abandoned you," he paused, letting out a shaky breath as he stared at the ground, "but that's not the truth."

~

Riki was twelve when he first realized just how brutal, heartless and cruel your so-called 'trainings' was. He had came home from school, walking past a room with the door not fully closed, allowing him to have a sneak peak inside.

Only for him to stop on the spot when he saw his precious younger sister, who was only ten at that time, curled into a small ball on the marbled, polished floor. Seething with rage, he had barged into the room without hesitation, protectively standing before his sister as he snarled, hissed and threatened to sink his fangs into the instructor.

"She's just a kid! Leave her alone!"

The instructor was frightened, fleeing from the room without bothering to put up a fight and Riki brought you to your room, hugging you close to his chest as he noses at your scent glands, scenting you to calm you down. That night, he had sneaked into your room when your parents were asleep, giving you food to eat that he had made in the kitchen. He knew you haven't had a proper meal for a while, considering how you are always spending most of your life 'training'.

Ever since that day, your brother took it upon himself to be by your side—he took your place, letting him be punished instead of you, argued with tutors and even fought with some of the people who dared to mock you. It was only a matter of time when his father demanded to see him in his office.

The room was dark, lit only by the amber glow of a desk lamp. The man didn't bothered raising his voice—he didn't need to. For his words were cold and loud enough to demand nothing but pure obedience.

"Do you want to throw your future away for her, Ni-Ki?"

He had stood still, fists tightly clenched as his shoulders trembled with rage. "She's my sister. You have no rights to—"

"No rights? I should be saying that to you. Now listen carefully, this is how it's going to go," his father cuts him off, leaning back in his seat with the faintest smile on his face, "if you're going to keep meddling and keep protecting her, you can kiss goodbye to your modeling career. I know you've worked hard to earn an internship with Prada. I'm sure the last thing you want is for them to revoke their contract with you, all because you couldn't stop poking your nose into someone else's business."

At that point, Riki was already eighteen. He stared at the man who he can't believe is his father, his own flesh and blood. "…You'll do that, all just for her to live a fake life?"

The other barked out a dark, humorless laugh. "Son, you don't know the harsh reality of the outside world. But, I never expect you to understand it. So, what will you choose?"

Riki felt nothing but pure fury burning in his chest. As much as he wished to do something, anything, he was too powerless to defy the weight of those words. Hence, he wordlessly nodded his head and the older man grinned in approval. He remembered entering your room late at night, seeing you fast asleep with dried tearstains on your cheeks. All he felt was nothing but regret, threatening to swallow him whole.

Which was why three days later, he had booked a flight and flew out of Seoul, unable to face you in the eyes anymore.

~

Riki swallowed hard, his eyes glossing with something dangerously close to regret. You were stunned as you have never seen him acting like this before—openly showing his feelings to you and what he had gone through on his end, without you knowing.

"I never wanted to abandon you. So, when I heard you started your own company, I was really proud of you. I told the people around me that that's my younger sister right there, that she built her own empire with nothing but her own blood, sweat and tears. I wanted to reach out to you," he paused, letting out a choked laugh. Just hearing the sound was enough to make your eyes teared up.

"Gods, I really did wanted to but I was scared. What if you don't want to see me anymore? What if you had pushed me out of your life, not wanting to talk to me forever? When I was invited to attend the event, I had a feeling you would be there. And, it turns out I was right."

He sniffled, not bothering to wipe away the singular tear droplet that trickled down his face. "It really killed me. Watching you suffer when I couldn't do anything and having to live with the rest of my life, knowing you had thought I didn't care about you."

Your nails dug crescent-shaped wounds in your palms but you couldn't stop the tremor in your chest. Everything Riki said—his point of view, the memories spilling out—it had cracked the walls you spent your entire life building. You had told yourself that he didn't care, that he had abandoned you and chose to live his own life, cutting ties with you. Back then, it was way easier to hate him as compared to now. Now that the truth was finally out, he was placed in the same position as you.

Your throat burned as the first sob tore free. You pressed your hand over your mouth but it was futile. Your vision blurred, shoulders shaking as the weight of everything came crashing down. Before you could think twice, you stumbled forward, throwing yourself at Riki as you wrapped your arms around his figure.

"O-Oppa—I thought you didn't care about me anymore. I'm so—"

"No, don't apologize. You shouldn't be saying that to someone like me," he cuts you off, voice muffled as he clutched onto you tightly, as if he's afraid that you might slipped from his grasp for the second time.

For a long moment, the two of you just held each other—siblings who had once been torn apart by fear and control, clinging together like you could bridge the lost years in a single embrace.

After that, Riki spent the next few hours catching up with you while you updated one another about your life. If you were to tell your younger self that you will find yourself chatting and laughing with your brother, you were certain that your younger self would have scoffed, calling you insane about how easily you had forgiven him. Eventually, it was time for Riki to take his leave and he hovered by the door after slipping on his shoes.

"You should talk to Jungwon," he murmured, hands shoved into his pockets.

"..There's nothing to talk about," you muttered, fiddling with your fingers as you avoided eye contact with him.

Your brother chuckled, reaching out to ruffle your hair, drawing a squeak from you as you light-heartedly whacked his shoulder. "Sure sis, if you say so. But seriously, talk to him and besides, I think he had already won you over with all of…that." He pointed at your neck and you scowled, shooing him out of the door while ignoring his laughter.

Once he was finally gone, you headed to Jungwon's private office, knocking and only entering once you were granted permission. There your husband sat, by the desk with a pair of glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. He glanced up, only to do a double take when he realized it was you and straightened himself in his seat.

"Did Riki left already?" He asks, leaning back in his seat as you stopped on the other end of the table.

"Yea, he said that we need to talk," you mumbled.

Jungwon sighed, gesturing for you to move towards him with two fingers. You gulped, walking around the corner and when you got close enough, he pulled you over. You would have made a complete fool of yourself if he didn't steadied you in the nick of time, allowing you to straddle his lap. Your hands awkwardly landed on his broad shoulders.

"Jungwon—"

"Shh, let me speak, princess. I'm not mad at you for hiding the truth from me. I feel bad for being harsh to you when we got married," he paused, resting his warm hands on your hips as he looks at you with a soft, loving smile on his face—something you never thought you'll be able to see.

"I remembered being furious when I was told I'll be marrying a woman who I've never met before. Which was why at first, I tried to push you away, to see whether you'll be able to listen to me. But, you didn't. Instead, you stood your ground and fought back. You looked at me, eye to eye and time and time again, you never fail to impress me with your courage. I know you had gone through horrible times during your childhood and the last thing you wanted was for an arranged marriage with a stranger."

He inhaled and then exhaled, leaning forward to rest his face against your stomach. You flinched, wanting to pull away but was stopped when he silently tightened his grip.

"You know, I actually respected you when I went to did some research. To see you managing to come this far with nothing but your own effort, that makes me see you in a different light. When Riki called me, telling me about how you needed me, I felt my world turned upside down. I had to shove my way through lines of people, forcing my way through immigration, just to get to you."

You were rendered speechless, listening to what he said. Jungwon raised his head, pulling you closer and closer until your practically breathing in one another's air.

"I thought I had lost you before I even had the chance to get to know the real you," he whispered, his hand lifting to cradle the back of your head. His thumb drew small circles on your cheek, grounding you in the current moment. "Seeing you like that… it broke something in me and I never want to feel that, ever again."

Your breath hitched in your throat, emotion swelling so thick that you almost choked on nothing but thin air. All the years of restraint and hiding—they were beginning to loosen, just a little, under his utmost sincerity and heartfelt words.

"Jungwon…" You breathed out, your voice barely above a whisper.

That was all it took. His lips was pressed against yours, in such a sweet, gentle kiss that you thought it was a dream for a moment. You melted into him instantly, fingers curled into his shirt as you clung onto him like an anchor. The kiss deepened but unlike before, there was no usage of tongues. Unlike the previous kisses you shared when you were entangled between the sheets, this was full of unspoken promises—of safety, of acceptance and most importantly, a love that goes beyond duty.

When you finally pulled apart, foreheads resting against one another, Jungwon was the first to break the silence.

"I got you. Today, tomorrow and for the rest of your life. And that, is a promise I intend to keep, until my final breath."

Eunchae raises a brow, only slightly amused. She tries her best to not say she warned you, but it slips out anyway. “It’s Sunghoon, babe. What’d you expect from such a…hot-blooded Alpha?”

“He was different! Not that bad! Or Evil!!” You muffle your scream with your sleeve, then lift your head to stare at your best friends with puffy eyes.

The bar doesn’t lose its vibrancy: the bartender doesn’t acknowledge your half hearted attempts at convincing your friends and nosy patrons (by proximity), and the music still plays on. You cry a little harder when a song Sunghoon had on his ‘my life’s a movie fr’ playlist coincidentally blares through the speakers.

Eunchae stifles a groan. “Get a grip, bitch. He’s evil. And dumb. Or evil, because he’s dumb—I don’t fucking know.” Her eyes bulge a little as she leans across Jisoo toward you. Naturally, you cower at the sudden wave of energetic dominance she emanates, and although you’ve been friends for years—Eunchae’s still an Alpha and you’re still an Omega.

She softens, but Jisoo lays a hand over hers before speaking.

“I know it’s frustrating… but maybe it’s a blessing in disguise?” She hesitantly starts. You look up and squeeze the shot glass between your palms, warming its surface.

“What do you mean?”

“I just think a guy who could mentally stimulate you might be a better match.”

Eunchae cackles, quickly butting in after taking a swig from her glass. “—what Jisoo’s trying to say is Sunghoon’s an actual dumbass. Like, the lights aren’t on at home. Ever.”

You pout at that. While a huge part of you wanted to defend him, you couldn’t lie. Sunghoon’s the kind of guy who looked like he walked straight of a Sports Illustrated magazine—a dream in dark blue jersey crop tops and denim low-rise jeans—but he’s an absolute himbo, and most conversations about your hobbies required…further explanation.

“Yeah, but he’s the only Alpha that’s never treated me like I’m dumb.” You say, downcast gaze watching the condensation mark your glass.

“That’s because he’s dumber than you—“

Eunchae groans once Jisoo’s sharp elbow hits her stomach, and stifles a scream.

“I know, sweetie. But if he was an actually good guy, he wouldn’t talk about planning ways to get back with his ex.” She utters gently, doe eyes glistening as she clasped a hand around yours comfortingly.

“What an asshole.” Eunchae grits out, before absentmindedly muttering “If I were you—I’d fuck his ex. Get my lick back, you know?”

You still, the gears immediately churning and straightening your back. You zone out on the array of bottled liquor, squinting as you rolled her words in your mouth.

“That’s a great idea, actually.”

Your best friends whip toward you with wide eyes. “Ayo, it was a joke—“ Eunchae squeaks, folding under the weight of Jisoo’s thinly veiled anger.

You push to your feet abruptly, palms slamming against the bar. Quickly, you smooth a hand over your perfectly glossed curled hair, steadying yourself, then swing around and toss your bag over your shoulder.

“Gotta get my beauty sleep. Big day tomorrow.” You say and vanish—leaving a trail of vanilla and brown sugar in your wake.

Eunchae and Jisoo stare at each other before Jisoo rolls her eyes with a groan. “Oh god—this is so bad.”

Heads turn at the sharp, charming click of your kitten heels against the marbled floors of the art department. After cornering Heeseung—who had originally refused to tell you anything more about Sunghoon, even after guiltily sending those screenshots from the boys’ group chat—you finally wore him down. A few well-placed crocodile tears later, he cracked.

And that’s how you end up in the fine arts building, scanning hallways for the sculpture studio. More people are staring than usual. Not because of your doe eyes and perfectly painted lipstick. But because your heat is only a few weeks away, and you deliberately didn’t take your suppressants so that Sunghoon would catch your scent all over campus—your scent is stronger than it should be.

Another scent dances into the hall the closer you get to the studio: something like yuzu tea and sunshine bottled up into a singular room. It was strong. Effortlessly enticing—Beautiful before you’d even laid your eyes on her. You knew it was her the moment you caught a whiff.

The studio is empty, save for a single silhouette standing at its center. A fitted black sweater clings to a narrow waist, dark hair cut short enough to curl softly at the nape. She’s taller than you imagined—almost as tall as Sunghoon—and the realization stings. You’d always assumed he preferred shorter partners. Most alphas, after all, gravitate toward omegas smaller than them.

Her pale hands dragged along a clay statue, molding the shape with a delicate, deliberate touch. She turns her head at the sound of your steps—

And what you see steals your breath from your throat.

Sharp, fox-like eyes run along your form—his pierced, pale pink tongue licks over the other cold metal piercing on his lips. A natural, dewy flush decorates the bridge of his nose, and his voice shocks you from your trance. Holy fuck.

That’s…not a girl. You think.

“…do you need something?” It’s soft. A little hesitant. Shy. The sound tickles your ears as you duck your head.

You stutter, clasping your small hands together, before bubbling the words out.

“I—oh god, you’re beautiful.”

His lips part slightly at that, a flush creeping down the line of his throat. The two of you lapse into a flustered silence, and he just stands there—wide-eyed, like a deer caught in headlights.

After a second, he ducks his head, peering at you shyly through his bangs. “That’s sweet of you to say—” he begins, voice even softer now, before glancing off to the side as if the wall has suddenly become fascinating. “Do you… need help with anything in the studio?”

You stare back at his face with your heart caught in your throat. It’d be easier to lie—to form a ruse just to get close enough to touch—but it didn’t feel right. Staring at him now, you’re struck with the realization of how shady this sort of ordeal would be.

“Honestly? I came here without thinking,” you admit, lifting your chin as you step closer.

You have to tilt your head back to meet his eyes—and he reddens instantly at the shortened distance. God, you’re pretty. There’s something almost doll-like about you, unsettling in its perfection. He has to bite down on the dangerous thought that you might be the prettiest girl he’s ever seen before it distracts him completely.

He waits, silent, patient.

“I—I’m Sunghoon’s girlfriend.” Your fingers tighten around your own wrist. “Or… I was.”

Something in his expression shifts. The light in his eyes dims, brows pulling together in a complicated crease. He fucking hated that guy.

“Oh.”

Oh? That’s it?

You shake your head, and anxiously turn away. “I’m sorry, this was a stupid idea—“

“W-wait.” He pipes up, grasping your wrist hesitantly. “You don’t have to leave.”

To your absolute horror, a tiny sob squeaks out of you. It’s embarrassingly small—but in the quiet studio, it might as well echo. You blink up at him with comically watery eyes, lashes clumping together as you try (and fail) to look dignified. Without thinking, you throw yourself into his arms.

“I’m sorry—I came in here with really awful intentions,” you blurt, words tumbling over each other. “I wanted to screw him over by sleeping with you. I thought you were a woman at first, and doesn’t even matter that you’re not—and he’s just so mean. He didn’t even have the decency to break up with me before planning to get you back.”

Sunoo goes completely rigid, eyes wide as he tries to process the avalanche you’ve just dumped on him. Then something sharp—almost offended—flickers in his gaze.

“I would rather get run over by my own kiln,” he says flatly, “than get back with that dumbass.”

“He always wants what he can’t have. Pretty sure his processing rate is below average.” He finalizes blandly. “Take a seat.” He slides a stool forward and gently pushes you to sit.

Sunoo leans back against a table, perching his weight on his palms as they grasped the sides.

“Listen, I don’t want him back. To be honest, I had no clue that he was even trying to reach out because he’s blocked.”

You sniffle, folding your hands on your lap anxiously. This is so embarrassing. What were you even thinking? The next time you see Eunchae, you’re going to wring her neck.

“It’s not even that. Good Alphas are hard to come by nowadays, and I thought I’d found one who actually cared about me,” you admit.

Sunoo watches you thoughtfully before replying, “I get it. Being an Omega’s no easy feat. That’s why I hate Alphas most of the time…guess I got too distracted by his washboard abs when I agreed to go out with him.” He laughs softly.

Being near him is strangely calming. The day drifts on, and you find yourself sitting on that stool for hours, talking about Sunghoon—and then about life as an Omega. You bond over your shared love for beauty and aesthetics, and he even lets you touch his eyebrow piercing while continuing to sculpt. The goodbye is silent, but warm when he drops you off at your dorms before striding off—taking the only sound of his earrings softly clinking with him.

The next day, Sunoo leans against the wall of your Socioeconomics class, quietly watching as you approach in an excited flurry.

His dark hair is styled straight, three silver piercings dangling from each ear. A fitted turtleneck hugs his lithe figure, paired with baggy, low-waisted dark jeans. When you instinctively reach for his hands, the vision of you together is a clash of black and pastel pink.

“Sunoo!” you squeal, the scent of vanilla stronger in the presence of your joy—even after taking suppressants. Gazing up at him, you hold onto his hand. “What are you doing here?”

He smiles softly, voice low, naturally tinged with melancholia. “Yesterday was fun. Stopped by to tell you you’re welcome to come to the studio whenever. Helped me pass the time.”

A genuine smile curls your lips, the sunlight catching flecks on your gloss.

“No takesie backsies.”

Hangouts at the studio steadily turned into hangouts everywhere else. Over time, you became a regular face at the fine arts department—and people took notice of how close the two of you’d gotten in a short span of time.

Friendship with Sunoo’s as easy as breathing: cute friend dates to dessert cafes, shopping for matching collars, cozy nights in with shared self-care routines, and trips to the photo booth—it fit snugly. Comfortably. He never unsettled you the way an Alpha did. Your shared love of physical touch always resulted in the two of you curling your bodies together—or walking around campus palm in palm, and pressing your temples against each other when greeting.

✿

You sit near a large banana tree plant, at the corner of the campus cafe—catching up between classes.

Heeseung sips on his iced coffee loudly, eying you suspiciously. “You’ve gotten…real close to Sunoo, lately. That’s a surprise.”

You giggle, a happy churning in your stomach at the mention of someone who was growing more special to you by the day. “Yeah—I’m surprised too, given the situation. Guess we bonded over having a shared ex rather than fighting.”

He pops open the cap of his cup and tips it back, pouring a few cubes of ice into his mouth before crunching down on them.

“Well, yeah,” he says around the cold, “but Sunoo’s so fucking grouchy all the time. He can be a real asshole. I’m honestly surprised he didn’t bite your head off the second you mentioned Sunghoon.”

Sunoo? Grouchy?

You stare at Heeseung, bewildered. “He’s so sweet and soft spoken most of the time. Not a single mean bone in his body, Hee.”

Heeseung almost spits out his ice.

“The fuck? Are we talking about the same person?”

“Pretty sure?”

“I fucking thought something was up.” He pips, face painted with delight. “He’s into you.”

“Stop it—“ You utter shyly, gaze dropping to your lap. “We’re good friends. He’d never see me like that.”

“You don’t know Kim Sunoo the way I do,” Heeseung says, voice low and a little mischievous. “He might be an omega, but he’s a total menace. The first time Riki met him, he made the guy cry with just one sentence…because he stood too close. Oh, and he also hated Riki’s designs. Brutal, right?”

“You’re not lying?” you ask, voice sweet and innocent, eyes wide. Your fingers reach to fiddle with the thin collar on your neck.

Heeseung almost coos at the sight, completely undone by how earnestly adorable you look: all pastel pink, draped in lace. “Scouts honor.” He replies, his index finger signing an invisible x over his heart.

“Wanna know a secret, though?” He whispers and leans forward, eyes glinting dangerously. Your eyes widen at the sudden dizzying scent of his pheromones—cedar, cinnamon, and black pepper.

You crane your neck towards him, nodding vigorously

“Sunoo’s a huge masochist—that’s why he has so many piercings.” He grins at you, clearly enjoying how red you’ve gone. He could practically see steam rising off you.

You bury your face in your hands and let out a muffled squeak. “Hee, what the—what the fuck?”

Heeseung reaches over to tug your pinky into his grip, holding it playfully for a moment before pausing. He glances over your shoulder, casual yet deliberate. “Incoming.”

You follow his gaze and brighten immediately.

Sunoo’s dark hair is spiked, styled just messy enough to look effortless. Silver rings gleam along his knuckles when he moves, catching the light. Your gaze drifts—slow and shameless—over the rest of him, taking in the long sleeve layered beneath a baggy graphic tee, the matching collar to yours snug around his throat. You stop yourself short of inhaling his scent deeply.

His eyes, however, are trained onto your hand in Heeseung’s.

“Shouldn’t you be in class?” He utters at the man dryly, running the ball of his tongue piercing across his teeth. He pops his gum disinterestedly.

Heeseung smiles hard enough to crease his eyes into little moons. “I’d much rather be here.”

“Of course—mommy and daddy are gonna pay your way into graduation, right?” He shoves his hands into his pockets, staring at Heeseung with an empty expression.

Your eyes flicker between them, bewildered. “Why are you guys acting so… strange?” you ask, reaching out to tug gently at Sunoo’s fingers. He softens instantly at the way you look up at him from your seat.

“I got you a slice of matcha cake,” he says, leaning down slightly to meet your eyes, ignoring Heeseung completely. “There’s a cafe I think you’d like.”

He chuckles softly when he notices the white lace parasol perched beside the table and takes in the pale pink baby doll dress you had on. “And what a cute little dress.”

You jump up to spin for him excitedly. “This is the one you picked out, remember?”

Sunoo takes your hands gently, smiling brightly. “I knew you’d look pretty in it.”

Heeseung gags silently in the corner. All he wanted was a chance to tease Sunoo, but now he’s stuck third-wheeling—and on the verge of throwing himself into mid-day traffic. Neither you nor Sunoo notice, still chatting excitedly with each other. Heeseung watches a little longer, smiling softly when he realizes the two of you look like little bunnies side by side.

Seriously—the two of you were the prettiest Omegas he’s ever known, and seeing you side by side was no joke. He stills the moment a…particular scent wafts in his direction. A fragrant haze of pink and hot, gooey vanilla drape across the cafe—turning heads in alarm at its heaviness.

His eyes flash before standing to take a step away from you.

“Sweetie, did you forget to take your suppressants?”

You pause in horror. How could you be so stupid? Your heat’s right around the corner—

With fumbling hands, you tug your phone out of your handbag and check the date.

Fuck.

It’s today.

Your heat cycle’s today and you’re seated in a crowded cafe without your pheromone suppressants.

Shakily, you glance around the room, your heart hammering as several Alphas cast uneasy glances, struggling to control their reactions to your trigger-happy scent.

You’re scared.

Really scared.

And you can’t will yourself to move. Even Heeseung’s struggling to stay neutral, a slow fever bleeding into his eyes. When his chest starts heaving, he hastily turns.

“I’m so sorry, I have to go.” His gaze is heavy with apology—but you knew it was for the best. Heeseung’s an Alpha, and a chaotic one at that. You knew he’d never endanger you willingly, no matter how most Alpha’s scared you.

Sunoo wakes you from your frightened trance.

“Come on—let’s get you out of here.” He slides a slim arm around your neck protectively, sharp eyes pointing defensively at any lingering looks.

You can’t believe you forgot one of the worst parts of breaking up with Sunghoon: having to face your heat cycle alone.

The day has arrived, and you don’t have the slightest idea how you’re going to get through it.

The hot pink corner light casts soft, intimate shadows across your room. Sunoo helps you peel off your dress, leaving you in your undergarments, and gently wipes the sweat from your skin. The heat cycle feels more like a fever the longer you’re not touched.

“Sunoo, it hurts.” You arch your back softly, hair spilling on the pillow messily, as strands stick to the sweat on your skin.

His unreadable eyes stay locked on your face as he watches you writhe for five long minutes. Then he rises, the bed creaking softly under him as he climbs on and begins to peel off his layers slowly.

Your breath catches, pink blooming across your flushed cheeks as you stare at him with glossy eyes. The soft, curved tips of your acrylic nails brush against your lips, trembling as you gaze at him in shock.

He kneels on the bed, abdomen twitching and tensing without meaning to. His pale hand reaches to nervously tug at his collar. “You can…use me. As much as you want.”

After a couple of moments of stunned silence, he squirms. Even under the pink light, the red in his cheeks seemed to glow. “I know i’m not an Alpha, but I can keep up. I can handle most things.”

The slick tacking your thighs together thickens. His flush only deepens when he hears it.

“Sun, you really don’t have to—“

“I want to.” He interrupts.

You rise to crawl towards him on all fours, peering up shyly. He sucks in a breath, slightly flinching.

The soft chime of your collars marks each small movement. His lips part as you slip your fingers inside, pressing gently against the sharp edge of an incisor.

“When I’m in heat… I like biting. And being bitten,” you admit, your voice a soft murmur. “Is that okay?”

“Do whatever you want,” he breathes. “I’ll let you know if I don’t like something.”

“You can do anything to me too,” you reply, your palms resting on the soft flesh of your thighs. The glint of his nipple piercings catches the light, almost winking in the dimness.

Everything about the moment feels strangely innocent, despite the context. The sight of his bare body, his willingness to touch you without any need to dominate, offers a comfort you never knew you needed—or were even allowed to have. Its saccharine. Warm. A clouded devotion that perfumes the air around you with something soft and tender—something Omegas like you both rarely have the privilege of knowing.

You both lean in, necks craning toward each other, breaths mingling in the narrow space between you, just a hair strand away from falling into each other.

Slick pools between your legs almost gelatinously, a soft pour trickling down your inner thigh. He sees it, and his hand rises slowly, fingers curling to cup you, stroking two fingers down the lining of your cunt. You throb at the contact, clenching as he petted the surface.

When the cold metal of his piercings press against your lips, as he slides his thin fingers in you, it settles in softly. The kiss isn’t a dramatic homecoming—it’s gentle. Quietly sacred. Reassuring in all the ways Sunoo knew how to calm the anxiety Omega’s always felt even during the high of being in heat.

Your hands find his shoulders, steadying yourself against their surprising breadth. The slow building pace he settles into physically shakes your body as he switches between driving upwards and rubbing your clit. You push deeper, licking shyly into his mouth, and gasp as he boldly pushes into yours. Your brow lifts at the feel of his tongue piercing, the smooth metal rolling against your own muscle. His left hand reaches to grip onto the meat of your hip with a strength you didn’t know he could summon.

Wet sounds fill the room—saliva strands hanging between your lips every time you pulled away just to dive back in. Your fingers lift to roll over his nipples experimentally, and sigh happily into his mouth when you hear the small moan leave him

Sunoo pulls his hand away, and you whine softly at the sudden loss of contact. When you finally break the kiss, you barely have time to steady yourself before you meet his gaze—and flinch. His eyes are intense, almost dizzying, dark irises blown wide and glossed over with something feverish. There’s a glazed heat in them, a look that makes your pulse stutter.

He pushes you onto your back, and crawls face first between your legs.

Without pause, he drags his nose up the fabric of your underwear—sucking the slick from the fabric, then pushes it aside.

A low whine escapes him as his hips roll instinctively, seeking friction against nothing. His boxers are already soaked, a dark patch spreading where his own cock strains against the fabric. You can see the throbbing length twitch as he laps at you, his tongue tracing a slow, deliberate stripe up your slit before circling your clit. The metal ball of his piercing glints in the dim light as he flicks it against the sensitive bud, alternating between rapid flicks and deep, suctioning pulls that leave his chin dripping.

Your body twitches in little spasms once it registers the feeling of his tongue piercing rolling around the sensitive bud. His tongue pumps shallowly at first, then deeper, the knob of his piercing stroking your inner walls. Your knees threaten to knock together, but his arms lock around your thighs, holding you open as he buries his face deeper, devouring you

You comb your fingers through his hair.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging gently. "Sunoo—breathe," you gasp, but he only whines against you, his eyes rolling back as he presses closer. The sound of his collar rattles softly as he shakes his head, refusing to pull away. When your legs lock around his neck, trapping him, he twitches violently, his fingers curling as he finds that spongy spot inside you that makes your vision blur.

He shakes his head side to side, collar rattling. He’s right where he wants to be.

The metal on his mouth grows warm. Your body feels like something molten—hot to the touch. D

Sunoo doesn’t notice—already lost in the fog of things, as your legs shook and hands fumbled to softly push at his head. He can’t will himself to pull his mouth away, drunk on the taste and heat of you. All he can smell is your particular scent of vanilla, and to his smug delight, traces of his own clean yuzu—erasing Heeseung’s earlier scent of cedar and cinnamon. The entangling scents calm his own anxieties: the ones that’ve been rearing their head every time he saw you with someone else. With someone bigger. Taller. More dominant.

He fucking hated Alphas.

You hide your hot face in your palms as you watch him continue to practically eat you, taking in the slender of his pale back and the small freckles peppering the surface of his shoulder blades and spine. His eyes flick up to meet yours, dark and hungry, as he widens his jaw, taking all of you in his mouth. Seeing his lips stretched around your pussy, his chin glistening with your release, sends another jolt through you.

Fisting the pillow, you bite your lip so hard it draws blood. Reaching out with a trembling hand, you caress his cheek. “Sunoo, it's sensitive”

He finally comes to his senses with a deep inhale, then slowly unlatches his lips from you. The surface is rubbed raw—pink, plump, and glistening. You clench around nothing at the sound of his voice.

“Tastes so good,” he mumbles, rubbing his cheek over your inner thigh in the moment of quiet, before he peers up at you.

You stare at each other, the reality of what just happened dawning in a flushed silence. Shame heats your face as you remember how much slick your body produces in heat, a detail alphas never failed to tease you about.

Sensing your embarrassment, Sunoo watches you from between your thighs. From there, he sees the muscles in your neck tense, your gaze drift away to something suddenly interesting on your left, and feels the faint tremble running through your legs. Slowly, he rises: sliding his cock out of his boxers with ease.

A gasp tumbles out of you at the sight of his own slick. Calmly, he tugs on your thighs until his cock settles between your folds, rubbing against them with ease. The sound of your combined slick is sinful—jarringly loud. He bites and toys with his lip piercing as his gaze fixes on where your bodies teeter on the edge of entry. “See how perfect this is? Look at you.” He marvels.

Clasping his neck, you press your chest to his, rubbing your nipples against his piercings. He hisses, a pretty moan stuttering from his lips as his head falls, overwhelmed by the sensitivity.

Gliding down, you wrap your lips prettily over his chest, your tits dragging against his abdomen before you flick your tongue across the surface—your pale pink gloss staining his porcelain skin.

Heeseung’s words rise to the surface: Sunoo’s a huge masochist.

And then, you bite.

His eyes widen when your teeth clack! against the metal, and you feel his cock twitch directly above your clit. “A-ah!”

One arm wraps around his waist while your small hand lifts to trace delicate fingers over his right nipple. You widen your jaw and bite again; leaving indentations circling around the glinting piercing. Sunoo’s eyes gleam in the pink light, lashes lining with pearl-like tears from the raw sensitivity.

His hips snap forward, drawing a whine from both of you. “God, you feel s-so good,” he stutters, his hand finding the back of your head to hold you sweetly against his chest. His eyes nearly roll back when you bat your lashes and look up at him innocently. “F-feel so pretty against me like this.”

He stares at how the soft fat of your pussy practically tugs his cock down, hugging it—a sloppy, messy sound resonating from between you. His eyes widen when you pull back, your thin hand moving down to part your pussy with two fingers, revealing the silky pink insides.

Flinching, his abdomen catches the stray droplets from between your damp, rocking bodies.

“Sun'—I want it inside.” You lie back fully, releasing his waist to hold your legs open, your arms hooked under your knees. Sunoo sucks in a sharp breath: never in his life has he seen something so fucking pretty. Your cheekbones catch the light, a blooming flush dusting the bridge of your nose and warming your skin. Your hair falls around you like a soft halo, framing your silhouette in a quiet glow.

“My sweet girl wants it inside?” He cups your face in his palm and presses a firm kisses to your temple, lingering there for a moment before nuzzling his nose into your hair and inhaling softly. One of your eyes squeeze shut at his affection, as you lean into it warmly. Your arms loosen where they’re wrapped around your legs, posture softening as you tip your face up to look at him. Your hands reach to run along his slim silhouette.

You quietly nod, biting back a smile. When he slides inside of you, your hands drag up to delicately wrap around his throat—his cock throbs are the pressure. Your back arches at the stretch.

It’s a cacophony of sweet depravity—each time he pulls his hips away, you draw him back with an open mouthed kiss. Everything’s damp. Heated— in a room full of pleasured sighs and slick skin. You feel his hand slide up your abdomen and hold your under-breast in his palm, tits bouncing erratically at the weight of his surprising force.

Small mumbles leave his mouth like a chant against your throat when the flesh is held between his teeth.

“So pretty.”

“Feels so fucking good.”

“Mine.”

The last one had you practically purring in his arms, pointing your breasts upward so he can latch on and mark them. A guiding hand grasps on the meat of your thighs to roll your hips on him manually.

Everything’s doused pink. Sunoo doesn’t even flinch when you squirt hard around him, only opting to fuck into you even harder.

Eventually, you’re on top of him with your hands pressing down on his throat—shaking on his cock after he fills you up for the third time. And another time, he’s saddled in your throat while his mouth works you into another orgasm.

Instinct takes over and memory gives way to an occasional blackness. If you pass out—you don’t pass out for long.

You don’t know how long it’s been. All you know is that your back is impossibly arched, tits pressed flat against the mattress, and that Sunoo’s fucking you hard enough that your head’s deliciously empty. Even the sides of your mouth are sore and raw from the amount of times Sunoo’s crammed himself down your throat until you cried. The sheets are soaked beyond repair and if you were in the right mind, you’d shriek at the almost… jammy texture.

Both your and Sunoo’s bodies are marred with bite marks, the skin flushed, red, and damp. His hips rolled against the soft flesh of your ass, rhythmically stretching your pussy—devastatingly entranced by the way you’re crying into your pillow, how your body seems to glow under the pink light of your room, and how the meat of your body shakes intensely every time he drove back down into you.

His own slick only aids how seamlessly he glides into you, nipple piercings rattling at his force. You drool a little when he shoves himself deep into your stomach, and you attempt to crawl away instinctively. Sunoo only grips onto your elbow and pulls your back flush against his chest, before sliding back in and fucking into you.

Your collars rattle in unison, soft moans painting the air. His skin is soft. Satin, despite the rough nature of his movements. And you couldn’t help the repetitive thought chanting in your head that you’ve never been with someone so beautiful before.

You piss around his cock the moment he prods at a particular spot, eyes rolling to the back of your head. On cue, he brushes your hair away from your neck, his fingers lingering for a breath before his teeth graze the soft skin at the back. He bites into the flesh mid-orgasm, abdomen caving and tensing as he whimpers against your skin.

Sunoo collapses, chest heaving, eyes squinting from the light peaking over the horizon.

It’s morning already. How long have you been going at it?

You tug on his arm until he settles beside you, then slink into his embrace as the two of you catch your breath. You brush your fingers through his hair—occasionally nipping at the skin of his neck.

His finger traces along your spine, thoughtful and slow, before he speaks.

“Can I be yours?”

You lift your head from his neck, your chin pressing against his chest as you stare up at him with tender eyes. Nervously, you toy with his collar, finding comfort in the soft, bell-like chime of the silver star–shaped charm.

Would he really be okay with you?

He stares at you, wide-eyed.

Shit—you hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

Something steadies in him then. He fixes his gaze on yours and speaks softly. “I’m no Alpha. I won’t be the strongest guy in the room, and I probably enjoy getting beat up more than I enjoy throwing a punch—but I’ll keep you safe in the ways I know how. I’ll love you right, in all the ways Sunghoon or any other douchey Alpha didn’t.”

A bright giggle bubbles from your chest.

“I’ll be yours if you’ll have me.”

Sunoo swoops down to steal your breath with a kiss—only pulling away when you’re on the brink of passing out again.

The two of you curl together like Siamese cats at the edge of the bleachers, either oblivious to—or deliberately ignoring—the stares from every direction. People gawk openly; the sight of two Omegas tangled up like this is a rarity.

You’re only here because Heeseung insisted. He’d dragged you both to his home game with a dramatic sigh and a vague gesture between you. “If I hadn’t been around,” he’d said, waving a hand at the two of you, “it wouldn’t have happened.”

At some point, Sunoo’s hands are on you—fingers digging into your waist, tongue warm against yours. The world dissolves into background noise. The roar of the crowd, the sharp whistle of plays, even the game itself fades away.

You don’t notice a thing—until a collective gasp ripples through the stands.

Out on the field, Park Sunghoon goes rigid, the ball still in his hands as he stares at the two of you kissing with reckless abandon. A split second later, he’s flattened beneath a brutal pile of incoming bodies.

Sunoo laughs against your mouth. “Serves him right,” he murmurs, stealing another indulgent kiss. “Maybe I should join the team too. Gives me an excuse to pull something like that.”

You giggle, nudging your nose against his. “Only if you play nicely.”

In the distance, Sunghoon lets out one long, pained groan—and you can’t help but think life has never felt more right.

fin.

but the sick feeling you have deep in your gut from when you read those incriminating texts and watched those disgusting amateur sex tapes they filmed still kept you up at night.

you weren't mad because you wished to get back together with him—god, no. you were mad because who does he think he is to be cheating on you of all people?

you're hot. that's the reputation you've unintentionally created for yourself.

you're popular, easy on the eyes, and so charming that you're universally wanted but still unattainable to most people who tried.

your looks or level of sex appeal couldn't shield you from the fucked up way a person can decide to betray you out of nowhere. you knew that. but you'd least expected it to come from your ex because... he was seojun.

and it's an open secret within the student body that he's the guy who pursued you with the stubbornness of a crack addict hammering at the doorstep of his plug just for a single gram.

he kept pushing his luck—waiting for you outside classes, getting you treats you never asked for, and pathetically following on your tail no matter where you went.

you turned him down every single time.

you have a reputation to uphold: the popular girl who wouldn't be caught dead getting tied down to one person's bed, man or woman.

you're too young, too hot, and the confines of a committed relationship was something you couldn't ever see yourself being put into.

still, he convinced you that your time and energy wouldn't be wasted if you just gave him one chance. just a single one.

so when you gave him your sweet yes, seojun was nothing less than elated.

because who wouldn't be?what mentally sane person wouldn't be over the moon if they were be able strut into university grounds with you in their arms like a shiny, lip-gloss wearing badge of honor?

and you don't mean to be transactional. in your most vulnerable, a large part of you can admit that you felt genuine adoration for the guy — but if he was staining your reputation and boosting his own for being able to bag someone as untameable as you, then he should be somehow capable of keeping you satiated, right?

wrong.

night after night, you sat with the misery of your previously thrilling and colorful sex life turning more bland by the second.

little to no foreplay, unending doggy positions, and the act of pulling out your ol' reliable rose toy to fulfill your own needs once seojun finished became an unwanted habit.

as if that wasn't enough consequence to your stupid choices, you also had to deal with your inner circle of friends trying to placate you with the cursed phrase: "as long as he makes you happy."

but that was the issue, wasn't it? you weren't happy. not with his lackluster efforts in the romance department, and certainly not in his subpar performance in bed.

him having the audaciousness to fuck another woman was just the cherry on top.

that's why you decided to call for back up in the form of kim sunoo.

sunoo has been a constant in your life. though your friendship was forged by coincidence, it was strengthened by the passage of time.

growing up with his house beside yours, you figured the only reason he stuck around was because he didn't really have a choice but to associate himself with the chaotic ball of evil next-door.

you clearly remember him hiding behind his father's legs when your parents greeted each other the day you moved in to the house beside theirs. he was elusive during shared dinners and neighborhood barbecues, too. but your eagerness and consistency was able to slowly melt him down until he eventually stopped dodging your attempts to be closer.

he's been by your side since then.

he was there with you through the horrendous bowl cut you had at 6, the awkward growing-into-your-body puberty phase at 13, the college acceptance letters at 18, and several of your post-break up bitch fits like the one you had just a day ago.

he's helpful, always gave solid advice that sometimes feels a little too pointed, but you know it's all said out of love. the kind of friend who'd question you, but ride along anyway.

sunoo's perched on your bed, back rested against the headboard. tiktok audios blast from his phone, serving as a backdrop while you spend the next fifteen minutes scrolling through pinterest.

you needed inspiration for the hottest, steamiest picture to post — something so saliva-inducing that it would have your ex knocking frantically at your door and falling down on his knees and earnestly begging for you to take him back. and seojun, none the wiser, would be rejected with a few less-than-savory insults and a door slammed to his face.

oh, you could already taste how sweet that revenge would be.

"babe… you're seriously creeping me out. i know you're mad at your ex, but don't tell me he's driven you that crazy." sunoo mumbled with eyes still glued to his phone.

he doesn't need to see you pacing around your room. he just knows you are. and if his intuition served him right, he'd also guess that you also had your freshly-done nail between your teeth, biting on it to keep your temper at bay.

between the cringe-inducing motivational quotes and the ever inescapable clickbaity ads scattered across the pins, you were beginning to lose patience and had half a mind to reply something snarky back at him when you come across the photo.

a below the neck shot of a woman with splotches of hickeys scattered all over her neck and chest, fingers pulling down the fabric of her shirt until it revealed more marks that disappear behind her hands.

it's everything you envisioned and more.

it's perfect. it's sexy. it's tastefully raunchy. it existed in the gray space of being suggestive, but not quite reaching the line of desperate. (because god forbid your ex gets that impression.)

all of a sudden, your morale is charged back up to a hundred.

sunoo's doomscrolling is interrupted once again when you slip your phone in between his face and his own phone, smile so bright and jolly it's almost unbelievable that just got broken up with.

"sunoo! is this the photo or what?"

he takes a glance at the photo, gives your covered decolletage a quick scan, and returns his eyes to the next video his algorithm serves him.

"looks good, babe." he mutters, disinterested. "i'm soooo sure he'll come running back if he sees you pull your shirt down when he's already fucked another girl behind your back for a month."

the sarcasm in his voice goes straight over your head. "right? he'll be soooooo pissed!"

you run to the full body mirror in the corner of your room, tugging at the neckline of your shirt. "so about the hickeys. i'm gonna need you to make one here, a few by my jaw and neck, and then… hmmm, maybe a couple of dark ones on my left tit? like right about here—"

sunoo pauses his scrolling again, one of his well-groomed eyebrows rising. he was convinced he misheard you. weren't you only after the pose in that darned photo?

"a couple of what?"

"hickeys! i just knooooow he's going to be pissed if he sees i fucked around this quick after i broke up with his sorry ass. he doesn't have to know it's you, though. or maybe he can—remember he was so pressed about us being friends? yeah, that'll piss him off even more. but about the hickeys, i was thinking you could—"

"i'm not going to do that." he says flatly.

you slowly turn your head, eyes already throwing daggers his way. "well i can't fucking reach my own neck, can i? so you're going to have to do it."

"actually, i don't have to do anything."

"but sunoo!" you whine, moving on the spot beside him with pouted lips. "you said you'd help me."

"i said i'd help because i thought all i had to do was take a few photos of you in a sexy pose, not because i wanted to cosplay a vampire. i mean—sucking hickeys on your neck? that's ridiculous!"

"babe, come onnnnn," you plead, tugging on his hand. "it doesn't have to be weird! it'll be just like that one night during freshman year."

sunoo immediately cringes, expression contorting at the fresh wave of memories that your words bring.

that night was certainly... something.

two years ago, back before you moved to your fancy, off-campus flat, you snuck sunoo over to your dorm room after hours with a bottle of bottom shelf vodka in hand. you threw back one full shot glass after the other until you both end up tipsy and snuggled on your twin bed.

you stared at the bottle that was still halfway full sitting in the corner of your dorm room, the alcohol running through your veins pushing you to confess that you've never had the opportunity to give (or get) a hickey.

sunoo, careless and giggly from intoxication, admitted he had no experience in the matter either.

all of a sudden, you moved from being in his arms to being on top of him, straddling his lying body with eyes burning in determination as you convinced him that you could do it to one another.

you marketed it as something to aid your inexperience — it would boost your sexual knowledge so you wouldn't look like losers going into hook-ups and situationships and whatever messy relationships the first year of college offered.

he choked out a flustered "okay," not knowing the same experiment would be used against him years after by the same girl.

he pinches the bridge of his nose, letting out a quiet sigh. "do i really have to do it?"

you pause, shoulders slumped down at his defeated tone. dread washes over sunoo when you poke your tongue to your cheek because he knew what this meant.

a brand new wave of your bitch fit is rolling in.

"you know what? i'm not going to force you if you don't want to help a friend in need." you grab your phone, grumbling more complaints under your breath.

"doll, you know i didn't mean it that way.."

your nails make loud clicking noises as you aggressively tap on the screen, scoffing through your nose while you scroll through the familiar names on your roster. "guess i'll just call jungwon, then. or jake. or winter, or sohyun—fuck!—whoever fucking answers first! 'm sure they'd be more of a willing participant anyway."

sunoo's jaw tightens at your fuck buddies' names. something difficult and unnameable clawed at his throat, begging to be vocalized but he swallows all of it down and reaches for your wrist instead.

"don't do that, doll."

"so are you going to do it instead?"

his hold tightens as the scowl on your face curl into a giddy smile.

"i knew you'd give in."

"hurry up and change into a different shirt before i change my mind."

you slip out of your bathroom wearing a velvet top just like the photo you found: classy crimson red color, off the shoulder neckline, form fitting at the waist, but loose enough around your chest for you to tug it down and expose the marks.

you walk over to sunoo with an extra pep to your step, giving him a single twirl. "how does this one look?"

sunoo's eyes travel to your face, to the clean, unmarred skin of your neck, and then lower down to where his eyes usually end up getting stuck on: your tits.

the shirt did wonders for your figure, and it's not his fault that the fabric had a special way of catching the light and emphasizing your breasts' perkiness so well — it's all normal and involuntary, really.

but the heat rising up to his cheeks and the guilt slamming at his conscience are proof that he couldn't convince himself it normal.

he knows he shouldn't be getting half-hard just from your pretty pair's silhouette and he knows he shouldn't be ogling at them so carelessly, but at the end of the day, sunoo was only a man—the kind who would fail the gentleman's challenge of looking away from temptation.

thankfully, you're too focused on yourself to catch him in the act.

"it looks good on you." sunoo swings his legs over the edge of the bed, sitting in his usual manspread before patting his thigh. "c'mere, babe."

you'd been in this position more times than you can count, so you sit down atop of him without hesitation, knees sinking into the soft mattress as you make yourself comfortable on his lap.

one of your hands rest on his shoulder and the other pushes your hair to one side. "you ready?"

"only if you are."

"alright. let's see how much you've improved since freshman year." you jab, grinning with that familiar glint of evil in your eyes.

confidence pours out of him as he leans in until the tip of his nose brushes along the column of your neck. "you don't know what you're asking for, doll."

the sudden closeness makes you shiver, goosebumps rising on your skin when you grow aware of how warm he is pressed against you. has he always been this broad? this firm?

you swear you didn't mean to gulp so loudly, but you did. and you knew he heard it because you could feel his shit-eating grin against your neck.

his lips brush against your pulse as he spoke. "nervous? don't tell me you're backing out now."

"what're you trying to imply? shut up and get to work." you bite back, further bratty remarks silenced by the press of his soft lips against your skin.

sunoo takes his time trying to find a spot that would deliver equal pleasure to you and insult to your ex. he presses open mouthed kisses along the side of your neck, and once he found a spot he liked, he didn't hold back.

he licks and nips into a patch of skin, muffling a groan against you as the whisper of soap and vanilla from your body mist hits his tongue. it's so sweet, familiar, and undeniably you.

you let out soft sighs, one of your hands scraping upwards until his jet black strands were tangled in your fingers.

he leans back on occasion to assess whether it was colored deeply enough for his liking. if it was, he'd move on to the next spot and if it wasn't, he'd go back in harder, hungrier.

"a–ah… sunoo," you whimper after an especially harsh bite. "can't you be more gentle?"

"do you want me to do my job properly or not?" he huffs and lets his teeth scrape against your jugular, almost as if to teach you a lesson.

you don't understand why he's suddenly so eager to be a participant in your vengeful side-quest, but sunoo knew damn well that the silence was doing. it was giving him the perfect opportunity to settle with the annoyance he's been trying to set aside for so long.

a deep-seated irritation, both from the fact that you were willing to go this far to prove your worth to your ex—who had already left you broken hearted and done it with another woman—and the fact that you essentially fooled him into being a tool to achieve that goal.

he quietly redirected that anger through increased roughness of his bites, disregarding if it brought you discomfort. you wanted to get your revenge on your ex, so in his own little way, he was getting his revenge on you too.

but the more marks he left, the more irate he got.

he pulls back, gracefully wiping the shine off of his plump lips. "you want me to put a few on your tits too, right?"

despite the ugly emotions brewing inside him, sunoo looked like composure incarnate.

you, in stark comparison, were a mess: lower lip caught between your teeth, face all flushed and reddish, eyes unable to meet his.

"y–yeah.. just a couple on the left one."

"well i'm not gonna be able to do that with your shirt in the way."

"shirt… ha, right," you force out a chuckle. "can you, like, look away for a quick second?"

he's confused but he follows your strange request anyway. you take that chance to pull your shirt over your head, and the belated regret of not wearing a bra hits you.

you fight through it, slipping your hands back up until you're cupping your bare chest, swallowing down a whimper when your palm presses flat against your pebbled nipples.

"you can look now..." you mutter, feeling blood rush to your cheeks.

it's odd to suddenly feel shy when sunoo has seen you in more awful situations.

he's once picked you up from a bar, wasted and sniffling like a madwoman with mascara-stained undereyes after one margarita too many. he was a witness to your swollen eyes and tissue-stuffed nostrils when you got sick.

hell, he even hung out with you when you were clad in just panties and a flimsy sports bra, nipples poking through the thin fabric, all sweaty and lethargic because your landlord took too long to fix your broken ac in the middle of an intense heatwave.

you've been more naked with sunoo.

and yet you've never felt more exposed until now.

it's not a matter of the amount of clothing. it's likely the way he's behaving—the dark tinge of hunger in his eyes triggering your prey tendencies to hide, to run, even when he isn't actually doing anything yet.

he doesn't speak, doesn't move. he just looks at the flesh spilling behind your hands and the pretty crimson marks blooming above it like his personal artwork.

"stop squirming." he commands in that low, raspy voice. the way your body quickly follows his orders is an embarrassment in itself.

he anchors you on top of him again and presses his lips on the spot just above the dip of your cleavage. slow and gentle, almost reverential in the way he lets his lips sink into the softness of your chest.

compared to your neck, the softness of his mouth feels even more devastating here. senses heightened by the pressure of his mouth sucking into the upper curve of your tits, warm and wet tongue licking the bruises he made like an apology.

each graze of his teeth sends warmth pooling between your spread thighs where your sorry excuse of cotton panties are most likely drenched and ruined already.

he shifts a little beneath you, spending a few seconds kissing around the mark he just made before he grunts in dissatisfaction at his inability to find the next suitable spot.

"take your hands off and let me hold them."

your heart drops. "w–what?"

"you heard me." he says, slowly lifts your fingers off to reveal more skin. there's almost a nonchalance in his tone, like he was only suggesting it to be more efficient. "i can hold 'em up, doll. i'd make better hickeys without your hands in the way."

you stare at sunoo, and he stares back at you.

you don't know what the simple act of revealing yourself topless to your best friend could entail. he has seen you almost naked, but this... it could completely change the way he viewed you. it could possibly ruin your friendship in it's entirety.

in hindsight, these were possibilities you should've considered before you persuaded him to help recreate that photo. but with several marks already tainting your skin, you deem it useless to fight his suggestion.

you begrudgingly let go and look to the side in shame.

you feel the hands on your hips slowly travel upwards, tracing the curve of your hips, up to the dip of your waist before he fully cups your tits. the warmth of his palms pressed against your ribs is too hard to ignore.

even with your eyes glued to the swaying curtains of your room, you could feel the intensity of sunoo's dark gaze piercing through your fully exposed torso. you could feel his breathing turn heavy as he inhales slow like he's dragging out the moment.

your tits are... perfect. they're smooth, perky, and feels the right amount of heavy in his hands—just as beautiful as sunoo imagined.

"didn't know how pretty these are, baby." he leans back in to brush his lips along your jaw, voice having that signature teasing lilt. "are they as sensitive as i think?"

the question is followed with a gentle squeeze, to which you respond with a high pitched whimper.

"huh.. guess they are. didn't realize there were still new things i can discover about you, baby." he gives you a cocksure grin, unable to resist jiggling them in his hold.

the bravery in your tone as you snap at him is fueled by a mix of impatience and humiliation. "j–just shut your trap, sunoo. are you going to mark me or are you going to keep yapping my ear off?"

"now, now, sweet girl. that's no way to talk to someone when they're cupping your tits—not when you're this reactive to it." he clicks his tongue, hands closing in around your breasts in a rough grope.

he runs his thumbs over your stiff nipples and the friction of his fingers going back and forth against the peaks has you stammering and squeaking at the same time.

"shit, sunoo..o—oh my god, wait, don't!"

your protest falls on deaf ears. in usual sunoo fashion, he does simply as he pleases. he stares at your chest, almost hypnotized, while he tweaks and pulls and pinches, uncaring for the pathetic little noises you made.

then, seemingly remembering the task at hand, he resumes his full hold, pushing your pretty pair up and together. he lets his lips brush against the drip between your breast, the lack of obstruction giving him the freedom to carelessly press kisses all over the smooth skin.

"so pretty... and so fucking soft. god, they're perfect."

his warm breath fans over your pebbled nipples and you have to purse your lips to hold back the mewls threatening to rush out. he's shamelessly kneading and squeezing, obsessed with how tender they feel in his hands while his mouth persists on leaving more marks, making the obscene sounds of slurping and lip smacking bounce against the walls.

you try to endure but you're too flustered to keep being this close to him when your body feels like it's wrecked and burning a thousand degrees.

"sun, that's more than enough for the photo—nngh… stop!"

sunoo leans away with an unamused expression. he stares at the purple and red splotches littered from your neck down to your soft mounds with his jaw clenched tight.

were they not proof that you allowed him to touch you? taste you? were your moans not evidence that he made you feel good? so why do you keep telling him to stop?

and above all else, why do keep insisting that this is still for that stupid fucking photo?

"stop? are you really telling me to stop?"

"y–yes!"

the chuckle he lets out sounds hollow. just as you believed he was granting you mercy by pulling away, he only did it put your desperation on display.

his hand leaves one of your tits unattended in pursuit of holding on the back of your head, slender fingers finding enough grip against your hair to guide you to look down.

there, on the very big and very obvious bulge he sported, was a dark patch of wetness that stained his grey sweats. a mark that you've left behind.

"shouldn't i be the one telling you that?"

oh, god.

you've been humping him.

you've been humping your best friend and you weren't even aware you were doing it.

your eyes widen. "i— i wasn't… i didn't—"

"didn't what? didn't mean to say stop, or didn't mean to slut yourself out on top of me like a needy whore?" he laughs meanly, tightening his hold on your hair.

the mean insults make you choke on your words and the pain on scalp is adding to it, spiraling you further into a humiliation-fueled arousal.

"n–no! i swear i—"

"what is it, doll? you were basically showing how much you wanted my cock, and you only want us to stop now?" he throws one rhetorical question after another, emphasizing his last word with a thumb cruelly pressed down on your stiff, aching nipple.

you let out a shattered sob, body instinctively arching towards him and causing even more pressure on where you were already feeling the most sensitive.

"f–fuck—nnh—sun, please. p–please!"

"please what, doll?"

please let go. please squeeze me harder. please fuck me. please stop. please keep touching me.

you don't know what you're begging for anymore.

the low timbre of sunoo's voice and the unbearable stickiness between your thighs and the sensation of his groomed fingernail scraping against the tip of your nipple was driving you into a lustful craze and further fogging up your mind.

"tell me, pretty. c'mon. use your big girl words and tell me what you want."

his thumb rests on your lower lip and presses on the dampness of it. not pushing in, just resting while he admired how ruined you look—skin glistening in sweat, cheeks deeply tinted, teary waterline making glitters as they reflect the dull warm light of your bedside lamp.

you look beautiful.

if he knew this was all it took to get a view of you like this, he would have probably risked your friendship a long long time ago.

"oh, my pretty doll. you can't even talk, can you? so desperate for cock you'd resort to humping me while i make your poor nipples swell up..." he's relentless with his taunts, knowing it was riling you up even more.

you could physically feel the gush of wetness leak from your hole simultaneous to sunoo pushing his thumb inside your mouth. it presses on the dip of your tongue and he's mesmerized at the sight of you accepting it wholly with eyes fluttered shut.

you suck on it with hollowed cheeks, tongue rubbing on the pad of his finger and it gets his painfully hard cock twitching inside his sweats. he wants nothing more than to push your head down and get your warm mouth sucking on something better.

"you're lucky i know you so well, baby. it's all you've been thinking about, right? me filling up that pretty little pussy of yours."

"mmmm–mhm..." you nod desperately with his finger still in your mouth and your pretty tits bounce along, almost putting sunoo in a trance again.

he pulls out his thumb with a wet pop, the same saliva-slick finger rolling around your nipple. the cool air of the room to bites on the sensitive buds but sunoo replaces it with his own mouth, desperate to give himself a proper taste.

he pulls gratification from how full your tits feel, from the noticeable tenseness in your muscle each time he purposefully pinches your stiff bud between his teeth, and how easily his tongue disappears into their softness.

most of all, he's proud of the sounds you make as he plays with your plush tits as much as he desired. the sighs of relief, your hitched breaths and moans, no matter how hard you tried to bite them back, were all laid out in the open and they made it impossible for sunoo to keep holding onto his patience.

"fuck, can't keep blue balling myself like this," he effortlessly flips you on your back until you're trapped between him and the bed, growling. "i need everything off. now."

you don't need to be told more. you make quick work of your shorts and panties, kicking it down your legs until your warm, sticky center is fully exposed while sunoo rids himself of his shirt.

you're eager to help him too. guided by the warning look in his eyes, you hook your fingers and tug down, not knowing you'd get a jaw-dropping surprise.

you already suspected sunoo had the cock to match his big-dick-energy.

the softness of his features made him an easy target for less than playful jabs—the size of his cock being the punchline of a joke more often than not. yet sunoo would just shrug and agree with that self-reassured smirk that told you he was more than pleased with the amount he was blessed with.

and it was a given that he knew how to put it to good use because he's narrated several horror stories of hook-ups desperately running back to him, begging to get another taste of the seemingly endless pleasure he could offer.

and maybe you've also let your mind trail off, wondering just how big your best friend's cock really is on nights when you were especially deprived of an orgasm. but you'd smack yourself out of that dangerous train of thought before ever reaching a conclusion.

yet no amount of speculation could have prepared you for what you're seeing.

sunoo is… big. hell, maybe big isn't even the correct term.

hung. your best friend is fucking hung.

not only was it long, but now that it's free from the confines of his pants, it's clearly visible how thick and girthy he was, too. it's neatly shaven, smooth, had bulging veins that lead your eyes down to his tip that was flushed a deep pink color and glistening with pre-cum.

and his cock's so pretty—probably the prettiest one you've encountered amongst the ones you've seen online and the ones you've personally handled in real life.

your mouth waters and your pussy gushes both in worry and excitement.

"eyes up here, sweets." he teases, tipping your chin up so you'd look at his face. "you're staring so hard. if your jaw drops a little more, i'd assume you're inviting me to stick it inside that pretty mouth."

"n–no… you're too…" you trail off, unable to continue your sentence. "it's not going to fit..."

"don't worry your pretty little head about that, doll. we'll find a way. with how wet you are—" he slips his hand between your thighs, a corner of his lip tugging up at the dampness pressing against his palm. "—i don't think it's going to be much of a problem.. but i'd gladly prep my girl."

you're putty in his hands as he positions you to lay down in the middle of the bed, legs spread wide enough for him to settle in between.

he's back to being gentle, plump lips pressing frustrating featherlight kisses along your inner thighs when you're already there, already bare, and ready to be taken.

"you said that you wouldn't blue ball yourself... so why are you fucking teasing?" you grunt breathlessly in frustration, tugging on his hair.

sunoo looks at you through his lashes and his fox-like eyes look even more hypnotizing from this angle. the way he maintains eye contact as he drags his tongue to lick along the sides of your puffy lips is downright nasty.

he lets out a sigh that sounded more like it was made out of pity for you. "because you're sopping wet, baby. so messy and eager. i wanted to savor the moment a little more, but if you're so eager…"

a menacing smirk graces his lips as he braces his arms underneath your thighs. and without any more words, he buries his face right in.

the hunger he's been staving off crashes down all at once, leaving what little doubt you had for sunoo's sexual prowess to dissolve into thin air.

his mouth lays flat against your folds, lapping stripes up and down your pussy with deathly coordination. he alternates between prodding his tongue into your hole, and stroking it upwards to rub the tip against your swollen clit, eagerly flicking at the pudgy bundle of nerves.

he muffles moans against your cunt and the subtle vibrations of his mouth feel like shockwaves with how pent up and sex-deprived you are, making you whimper even louder.

"oh, fuckfuckfuck—nnngh, sunoo!"

he tightens his grip to keep you from squirming, your unashamed noises encouraging him to continue exploring the cunt he'd spent a mortifying amount of time fantasizing about. (again, you may be his best friend, but he was also just a man.)

his warm tongue pushes in and out of your hole, wanting more of the nectar only you could offer. and once his greed was satisfied half-way, he pushes two fingers inside to keep it occupied.

"shit, you're so tight… 'nd so fucking sweet. could get fucking addicted to how you taste, doll." he whispers, voice fraying at the ends.

he could spend hours between your legs just devouring you, that's how far gone he is.

his plump lips find your clit again and his fingers pump in such quick rhythm that your juices splatter, staining his chin and knuckles.

you already felt like you were on cloud nine, body floating in the air, and the obscene, slurping noises that bounced off the walls from everything that he was doing only added to that delirium.

"sunoo… fuck, your mouth's so good!" you hiccup with eyes fluttered shut from bliss, the overwhelming sensation making your back bow high while your hips roll against his mouth.

his cock jumps at the soft noises you make. you're so hot, so desperate that it was making him rut against the mattress for a semblance of friction.

"pretty fucking girl. can't believe you've been hiding this sweet little thing from me. and you're being so noisy, too.. can you hear that? hear how desperate you are, just sucking my fingers right in?"

sunoo wasn't really asking to get an answer. he was so intoxicated from the way you taste that he was just slurring compliments against your sopping pussy.

he pulls away with the lower half of his face covered and glistening with your arousal, hooded eyes zoned in on your fucked out expression. his thumb rubs your clit in tight circles before adding another finger inside, curling them inwards until each push and pull rubs on your sweet spot.

"fuck, sunoo... i—hnnnghh—sunoo!"

you're so dizzy that you couldn't muster announcing your incoming orgasm. you're just bucking your hips against his hands to meet his fingers halfway, profanities and his name leaving your swollen lips again and again.

sunoo brushes his arousal-covered lips against your inner thigh, humming proudly at the way your walls pulse and tighten around his fingers because he already knows.

"it's okay, doll. cum for me. show me how good you feel fucking yourself on my fingers."

"fuck... s–sun!"

you're gasping for air, throwing your head back against the silken pillows—then your jaw goes slack while the rest of your muscles grow taut as the euphoric feeling takes over your entire body.

sunoo continues to whisper soft reassurances against your skin as he slows down his speed and presses gentle kisses on your pulsing clit to slowly guide you down from the height of your mind-blowing orgasm.

then, he braces an arm beside your head, one hand on your jaw to get you to look at him through the hazy filter of your blissful tears.

he kisses the corner of your mouth, an act that feels far too intimate despite his mouth being glued to your pussy just mere moments ago.

"shhhh, you did so well, baby. 'm so proud of my girl. did that feel good, mm?"

you can't reply anything comprehensible. just soft sounds that resemble a vague agreement which was somehow an even better answer.

he starts kissing lower and lower down your skin, following the purple-colored trail marks he left until his lips encase your nipple again. his tongue swirls around, flicking against the sensitive and swollen buds while cum stained fingers roll the other in between them, pulling more breathy noises of protest out of you.

"sunoo, wait—i.. i just came. i can't go again—nngh, s–stop."

sunoo reaches to get a hold of his cock, running the thick head of it up and down your slit until the mix of your arousals are leaking down to the bedsheet before presses his shaft down with a thumb until the underside of it is flat against your core.

"you say you want me to stop," a mixture between a sigh and a laugh escapes his lips at the filthy sight of your pussy lips struggling to wrap around his thickness. "yet here you are... staying still and leaking all over my cock while i use you to give myself a pussy job."

he's purely relying on your bare cunt for friction. sharp jolts of overstimulation shoots through your spine each time the long, veiny shaft drags on your swollen bud as sunoo continues thrusting into the air.

you don't spit it out verbally, but desperation is oozing out of you. you're gazing at him with pleading eyes, lower lip trembling with any coherent thought slipping from your mind the harder he presses his tip to your sensitive clit.

sunoo coos, reveling at the overwhelmed tears pooling at your waterline. "my poor little girl's such a cry baby. there's nothing to be shy about. i know you want it, so just say it. say yes and i'll give you your fill."

"yes. y–yes!"

he doesn't wait for you to question yourself why you answered him so quickly nor does he allow you to process what its consequences would be. he just whispers a satisfied "good girl," before angling his hips lower to push into you.

even after spreading you open with his fingers, your walls were still clamping down, unfamiliar to the feeling of wrapping around something this big.

"you're so fucking tight, shit." he hisses, expression crumpling.

"mmh.. b–big.. 's so big," the words come out as both a compliment and a complaint.

you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer, face grimaced in discomfort while tears roll from your eyes as sunoo pushes even more of himself inside you.

he pauses after seeing your sewn brows, kissing in between it. then his lips move to your cheeks, your ear, the side of your head.

he isn't really aiming, isn't really thinking.

he's just focused on distracting himself from the tight grip of your walls because he knows if he lets his body take over, it would want to take more and that would definitely hurt you.

"mmm, i know it is, baby. take deep breaths for me, okay? you're being such a good girl, taking my cock so so well.. just a few more and you'll feel so much better, baby. i'll make sure of it. can you let me make you feel good, hmm?"

you nod fervently at his promise and sunoo kisses the corner of your mouth as a reply. barely a brush of actual lip-to-lip contact.

in your daze, your eyes end up getting drawn to his lips. how plump and dewy they look.

sunoo's face is so close to yours now. barely an inch away. it would be so easy to kiss him. just a tilt of your head would close that short distance. you feel your lips already jutting out at the thought.

but a kiss—despite everything else you're doing, and have done so far—would be the most sacrilegious thing to want right now. like an act that would cross the line.

the conflict in your mind is interrupted, unable to be dwelled upon because he's pushing himself inside again and the sting shooting throughout your lower half grounds you back to the situation at hand.

"sunoo… you're—hnn, i don't.. i c–can't take more.." you drawl out, shaking your head.

"sshhh. you can, baby. i know you can. we're already so close, just.. ah—" his own brows furrowed as he looks down at where your bodies are almost connected. "—just hold on for a bit, mmkay?"

he offsets the pain by giving your tits gentle squeezes and showering you with sincere praises. "you're being so good f'me. my prettiest. 'm so proud of my favorite fucking girl.. taking so much of me already."

the amount of self-control it's taking him to be gentle with you is reflected in the tightness of his jaw as he slowly pushes the rest of his length inside, now fully nested within your snug walls.

"doll, f–fuck—you feel so good around me.. shit, you're suffocating my cock."

sunoo is damn near about to lose his mind.

you're so warm and so incredibly tight and you look so beautiful with tears in yours eyes.

he has prided himself, not only on his huge cock, but also on his impressive stamina—but right now he's spiraling, trying to think of his roommate's dirty socks, report deadlines, a sad k-drama, things that would keep him from cumming on the spot and they're barely doing the job.

"too much... 's too much, too full—!!" you cry out, walls spasming around him because they're unused to being stretched to this extent.

the reasonable part in your head is screaming "too much! too much!" and yet the deeply insatiable part of it is whispering poison in your ear, telling you want more—need more.

"shhh, 'ts okay. stay with me, baby." he whispers, tip of his nose nudging your cheek to pull you out of your short reverie. you make a broken sound to acknowledge him to which he smiles, kissing the corner of your lips again like a newly-developed habit.

the hand on your chest moves down to rub your clit in circles, lips travelling upwards to your ear to nibble at the shell of it until your soft sobs are replaced with needy mewls.

"that's right. let me take control, baby. i'll fuck all that pain away, make you feel good until you cream around my cock. you'd love that, wouldn't you?"

"y–yes, sun... wanna feel good, wan' more, please." you move your hips as best you can in blind search of more friction, cheeks flaring up when you hear the faint sound of his chuckle.

sunoo began thrusting shallowly, only pulling out a couple inches at most and gently pushing in again, considerate enough to ease you into it. when you're truly lax enough, whispering breathy pleads for more he finds a steady rhythm and starts to rock his hips.

"you're so tight, baby. s–so warm. don't go quiet on me now, mm? let me know how good i'm making you feel."

"yes, sunoo—hnnn!—it's so so good. please don't stop, baby," you give his arms encouraging squeezes and sunoo pretends his hips didn't stutter from the sudden pet name.

"i know, needy thing.. it's okay. i won't stop," his mouth trails lower once more because he seemingly can't stop himself from gravitating towards your chest.

he groans from deep within his throat and you could feel him start to move more recklessly the more he let himself slip further into his tit-drunken honest ramblings.

"mmh, i couldn't stop fucking you even if i wanted to. you're so beautiful. especially these tits—god, i love your tits s'much, baby. you don't know how insane they drive me. been wanting to see 'em so bad, you know that? you wore that top i bought you to the function last week and—ah, f–fuck—you know what i did the moment i got home?"

"mmm.. what—?"

"i fucking jerked off to the picture we took. your tits just looked so pretty," he confesses. the bluntness of his words, the way he bares out his desire and neediness for you, combined with the speed at which he's driving his throbbing cock inside is making your body tremble.

"you make me fucking pathetic, doll. got me cumming on my phone screen within minutes like a fucking teenager. shit, you piss me the fuck off."

like a switch, the anger sunoo has been holding onto comes back the moment he remembers why he's even fucking you. it's evident in the way he bites down on your nipple and in the cruel way his cock presses in so deep you swear you feel the head of it is prodding your cervix.

sunoo fixes his posture, tightens his grips on your hips until his knuckles turn white from the way he digs down your skin. now with leverage, he vents out all harbored irritation he has for you and your ex in quick, harsh thrusts.

"putting your body on display for my eyes like that and asking me of all people to help you in your evil little scheme few days after—but now... look at you. moaning like a slut under me, getting dumb for my cock. you're just as pathetic as i am."

it's supposed to be punishment, but it doesn't really feel like one when all it does is push you closer to the brink of another orgasm, your mind so hazy that your words come out slurred and almost incoherent.

"no—hnngh—n–no, 'm not!"

"really?" he's cocky now, a dangerous glint in his eyes when he pulls hips back far enough and slams it inside in one smooth push.

your eyelids screw shut, brows sewn together, mouth forming into a small o as his cock literally knocks air out of you. "oh my god—!!"

"all that effort for revenge just to end up like this... you are pathetic, baby," he chuckles, driving into your harder. "and all your facade of being the girl on top? the girl in power? down the fucking drain, because you do like being used—you love getting used by me. no toys, no ex, no lame fuck buddy could compare to your best friend's cock."

he threw that title to shame you for wanting him so obviously. from getting wet from his words, his mouth, his touch, his cock. not your ex's or your lame fuck buddies'—his.

and it's working.

he knows the shame is eating at you, turning you needier and hungrier. and he knows you're drunk on his cock so uses this newfound weapon against you—abruptly stopping with it still deeply inside.

"go ahead… admit it, doll." he gives you a condescending nod. a movement that says he isn't going to move until you could swallow down your pride.

you couldn't hold back a frustrated cry. your nails dig at his back in frustration, acrylic clawing into his smooth and fair skin as you pull him down until his face is barely meeting yours.

"don't you dare do this now, sunoo. stop teasing me and just fucking put it back in!"

the seriousness in your glared eyes causes a humorless chuckle to leave his lips.

"ah, you were so good for me just a while ago. what happened to my sweet girl? you know being a demanding brat doesn't work on me—it may have worked on the little fucktoys you have on your roster, but not on me."

a slow and filthy shlick sound echoes from between your bodies as he deliberately pulls himself out.

he watches with predatory hunger as you squirm and hopelessly grind your hips against the air, unused to the absence of his thick cock spreading you open.

"you either say it properly, or you don't get it at all."

"w–wait, no.." you squeeze his shoulders, looking up at him with pleading eyes. heat and shame and need flares up all over your body while he looks at you with a cruel smirk. "i want to... fuck, what do you want me to say?"

sunoo's free hand reaches up to hold your jaw. his eyes stare into yours and you know by the firmness of his grip that he has enough patience to keep dragging out this torturous game.

"you already know what you want, doll. you just have to say it. say you love being used. say you love my cock. matter of fact, if you want it so bad... then fucking beg for it."

you nibble down on your lower lip, heart sinking at his command before finally echoing out his words with a defeated tone.

"i love… being used by you. and i want your cock to fill me up again…"

"mmm, i couldn't hear you, baby. there's not much begging from what i heard either." he prods with a fake sigh, pushing his cock back inside your gummy walls again but not fucking you with more than the tip just to see how much you'd break.

your jaw is clenched, hips moving in desperate rolls and yet it wasn't enough to satisfy you—not after feeling him entirely. pride and reputation fully compromised, you finally sob out.

"please, sunoo!" you cry, pleading. "i want your cock.. i love it and i love being used by you so please use me however you want! just—just need you to make me cum. need you to make me take it, please!"

sunoo's heart swells at the desperation in your voice, ego boosted far beyond what he could've believed.

"would you look at that? my best friend, the university's resident vixen, actually begging like a good girl." he coos with faux-sympathy before ramming inside you in a single thrust.

he doesn't let you adjust to it anymore—if you were begging for it so loudly, he'd let you take every single merciless slam he gives.

his long cock drags against your slippery walls, getting you empty only to fill you whole again, the strength of his hips snapping into you making your body rock forward each time.

"oh my gosh, sunoo—yes! you're so deep inside me, fuck, please don't stop!" you chant his name in dragged out mewls, loud and unashamed.

the blacks of his eyes drown out the amber, pupils dilated at the sight of your restless hands pushing and kneading your bouncing tits together while your fingers roll the stiff buds around in quick circles—something he's only ever fantasized in the privacy of his own mind, now made true right before him.

"that's right, baby… keep playing with your tits f'me. give me a show." he rasps, voice thick with satisfaction.

like a reward, he hooks your legs to his shoulders and leans forward to where each slam of his cock would brush against the special spot that had you seeing pure white.

"sunoo—nngh, please... there! just like that... more! h–harder, please!"

he clicks his tongue against his teeth in pretend disdain, but he's beyond pleased at how vocal you are. "greedy girl, already taking a lot and still wanting more... maybe this is what you should send him, hmm? i bet he'd get the message loud and clear when he sees how good you're being for me, all pliant and dumb and needy for my cock."

the memory of your ex doesn't even sting, doesn't make you feel anything. there's no room for it when you feel so good, and so overwhelmingly full.

all you could focus on is sunoo, how handsome and sharp he looks when he's this possessive. sweat rolling down his toned torso, faint line of his abs showing each time he bottoms out, the dull shine on his lips that's making it look much more delectable than it ever has.

you're intoxicated from the pure bliss of his length hitting all the right spots that you let go of all inhibitions. you don't care anymore. you grab sunoo's shoulders and slur out, "k–kiss.. i wan' kiss, baby..."

his expression softens, thrusts faltering briefly as your breaths mingle in that narrow space between your lips. you look into his eyes, catching lust and something deeper you can't pinpoint before he finally seals your lips together.

you hold on his nape, keeping him close while he bites on your lower lip gently to make you part your lips, giving his tongue the opportunity to lick and swirl around your wet cavern.

it feels so easy to melt into it, having achieved what you've been fantasizing about since feeling his mouth on your skin.

the intimacy of the position, the feeling of his fingers brushing up your forearm so he could take your hands and pin it beside your head, the sound of skin slapping mixed with the intermittent gasps for air both of you take before going back to the messy kiss—it's all adding to the tight coil deep down your abdomen.

sunoo's fingers laces through yours and he pulls back slowly. "fuck, doll, y–you—" his words are interrupted by a hiss, eyes moving to look at the way his cock disappears into you. "feel so fucking good, shit—you're taking my cock like a good girl."

you feel so fuzzy, so lightheaded and sunoo's voice is the only thing keeping you from floating out of your body.

"y–your good girl," you nod your head, squeezing on your interlocked palms to gain his attention back, lips already pouted. "i'm yours, 'm yours! so keep making me take it and keep kissing me, please.."

you're begging so prettily, pushing all the right buttons to get his heart fluttering that sunoo has no other choice but to give in even if he knows it'll be the end of him to taste your lips like that again.

you let him muffle your noises, swallowing down all the high pitched whines and moans. he moves his hips faster, harder, despite the tender way his lips move against yours.

"my good girl's so pretty.. tight pussy's so good at taking me like it wants me to mold it to the shape of my cock." his voice is gravel-like when he whispers praises after pulling away.

your legs subconsciously wrap around his hips in fear that he'd pull the rug under you again. you tighten you legs around him, keeping him as close as possible when the pressure in your tummy begins burning too hot.

"sunoo, i'm gonna... please.. please! 's too much.. i'm—i'm going to cum!"

the whispers of his name turn into cries, only smothered when you bite down into his shoulder. sunoo lets out a pained groan, yet does nothing to move from you. instead, he drives into your faster, ruthlessly pushing you towards your peak.

he whispers sweetly, "i know, baby. fuck, i'm close too—let go and cum again f'me, pretty. make a mess on this cock, yeah?"

his voice unravels you, your second orgasm of the night coming down on your helpless body in a violent crash.

your muscles lock up as you coat his cock in your cum, eyes rolling to the back of your head, plump lips that were still shiny from the spit you shared parting to take heavy breaths.

the sight of you looking so fucked out snips at whatever thread of restraint he has left.

sunoo couldn't think, couldn't control himself from pushing into you again. he kept grunting under his breath, hips pistoning in and out of your pulsing hole, determined to chase after his own release.

"so pretty… so fucking beautiful.."

he hurriedly pulls himself out, scooting closer to you with fingers tightly coiled around his length in a pathetic attempt to imitate the warmth and tightness of your walls.

"fuck... shit—you look so fucking pretty, baby. i'm gonna mark you up, cum on your tits and make you all fucking mine."

the way he fucks his fist makes a filthy fapfapfap sound echo out. his thighs are clenching from the delicious burn of friction and his hips lose their pace.

your name finally comes out of his lips in a shaky growl as his cum spurts out in thick, translucent ropes across your heaving chest.

sunoo takes a mental image of that obscene view, keeping an eternal copy in the back of his mind before blindly reaching for his shirt so he could wipe off the mess he made.

after a while, you feel him slump down beside you, taking heavy breaths, completely and utterly spent.

you make your move to scoot closer to him, back pressed to his chest, curling into the open arms he's prepared for you.

his arms coil around your waist like a habit, sharp nose pressed on your nape with a palm splayed on your tummy. warm, familiar, and homey.

a smile graces his lips as he gets a waft of your hair's scent—citrus and berry.

"you're using the shampoo."

"what?"

"the shampoo i got you from the farmer's market last month. you said it's gross because you don't want to walk around smelling like pastry, but you're using it."

"it grew on me, i guess."

"it grew back on you." sunoo clarifies, hooking his chin over your shoulder with a gentle smile. "remember when we were fourteen and you asked my sister the recipe for her lemon blueberry cupcakes?"

heat rushes to your cheeks at the memory but you brush it off, turning around to face him. "that's such an obscure memory pull, sunoo."

he keeps his hold on you, fingers pressing on the small of your back. he shrugged, leaning forward to press his nose on your hairline, making a dramatic sniff to tease.

"it's what i remembered when i bought it for you—all i'm saying is i'm glad you're using it."

the action causes his lips to brush against your forehead and it reminds you of the kiss—that kiss. the way you begged for it, and the way he indulged your fantasy without hesitation.

the loud, insistent thought to kiss him again fills your mind. and like telepathy, he's pressing a kiss on your forehead, another to your cheek, then another to the corner of your mouth.

but just before you think he's about to kiss your lips... he pauses.

your breath hitches and you look so small, so confused. a part of his heart cramps up when you stare at him with such soft, hopeful eyes.

anticipation and fear both come as a single force, pushing him to press his lips on yours.

this isn't messy like the ones you did ago—no tongue, no moaning, no whispers of filth in between.

there's something much more innocent and clean in the way he's kissing you this time.

your heart flutters, warmth thrumming under your skin as your mind and body comes to an unshakeable conclusion: in comparison to the kisses you've shared with every fleeting hook-up and every romantic figure in your life, only this kiss—the one you're sharing with your best friend—feels right.

you part from each other, breathless and equally pink in the face.

he looks into your eyes with same, charged intensity like before. except this time, it makes him look unreadable. all of a sudden, dread settles in your stomach. heavy and suffocating.

what does this mean?

the fucking, the making out, and the possessive words sprinkled in between his body claiming yours—you believe it could all be somehow excused as things done in the heat of the moment.

but when all of it is said and done, and you're both naked under your blanket, limbs tangled together, looking at each other after sharing something that feels much more pure and intimate than anything either of you had ever done before...

fuck.

what does this mean?

what does all of this mean?

sunoo breaks through your overthinking with a confession.

"i want you. i think... i've wanted you, this, a long long while ago."

you stare at him, wide eyed, heart slamming against your chest. in utter disbelief, you ask him, "w–what? sunoo, what do you mean—"

he pauses, his eyes widening like he's also surprised of the truth that just left his his lips. he persists, nonetheless.

"i mean sometimes i look at you and don't know what to do with myself. sometimes... you walk around me in tiny shorts and the tightest fucking tops and i can't function because all i can think about is bending you over and making you scream my name, but above all that ape-brain bullshit of wanting to fuck you silly—i get pissed,"

his eyes screw shut and he pulls you in with a hand gently cradling the back of your head. he guides you to press your face to his chest so you wouldn't be a witness to the pain of his suppressed feelings violently getting torn out of him, one confession after the next.

"i get pissed and offended on your behalf.. when other people don't treat you right. even at their best, you deserve more than what they could do. and i've gaslit myself into thinking i only feel so strongly about your feelings and your well-being because i'm your friend. your best friend. and we've been at each others side since god knows when—"

he takes a deep breath in and hugs you tighter, sighing softly.

"but marking you up... and kissing you and making you feel good and calling you mine... it all felt too good. too right. i can't deny it anymore, doll. i.. i've wanted you all to myself for so long and now that i got a taste of it, i don't think i can keep lying to myself anymore. or to you."

the air that still reeked of sex turns heavy while you stare at one another.

there's a long pause, the previous noise now thinned out into an almost ear-splitting silence.

sunoo sobers up from his own confession, pulls back, and cradles your cheeks, stroking the skin gently with his thumb with worry written all over his face.

"talk to me, baby. i can't do this... you know i don't like it when you get in your head. let me in there, mm?"

instead of answering him, your first instinct is to press your palm over his chest, right where you feel the almost violent drumming of his heart.

"would.." you purse your lips, murmuring softly. "would things between us change if i admit i want you too?"

sunoo shakes his head, unable to fight the soft, genuine smile tugging on his lips. "not if you don't want it to."

"can i still watch movies sitting your lap?"

"mhm."

"and it won't be weird if i ask for kisses every now and then?"

"nope." he answers, making a popping sound with his lips. "i'd prefer it if you asked for more, actually."

your blush deepens, but you pry further. "and i could still go to you for a hundred and one percent honest advice if i'm not sure about my outfit?"

"only if you'll let me fuck you in it when it looks too good."

you gasp, smacking his chest with a giggle. "sunoo!"

he laughs heartily, forcing your violent hands to wrap around him instead. "i'm only half-joking, baby. you know you always get what you want anyway."

"damn right i do." you slump in his hold, snuggling closer against him when the whole revenge plan pops up in your mind. "oh.. um..."

"yes, doll?"

"should i still take a photo? you know, for the.. thing."

a devious smirk tugs on sunoo's lips but he hides it by burying his face in your hair. "you don't need to worry about that right now, baby. i'll take care of it like i always do. go to sleep, mm?"

"mmkay.."

"i love you, doll." he tenderly whispered against your forehead.

you bite back a smile, pulling him closer. "i love you too, baby."

sunoo was a different animal now that he's been promoted from being a best friend to a not-quite-boyfriend-yet lover.

you were tended to, treated like a princess and treated you like something a little less than one in bed when he figured out you loved getting humiliated quite a bit more than you led on.

he fed you, made you laugh, took pictures of you, and made you take pictures together.

for memories, he said.

you nodded, not suspecting anything at all.

he was cuter, more clingy and needy and so eager to get you focused on him that he didn't allow you to look at your phone, not even once.

so just spent the entire day together as usual.

and now, sunoo's already snoring behind you, arms wrapped around your waist, nose pressed into your shoulder after yet another stellar performance between your thighs.

your phone rang like it's reminded you of its existence. you reach for it slowly as to not disturb your lover, confused at the texts from your friends, all congratulating you for finally settling with the guy who's been there all along.

you realized it was due to sunoo and the instagram story he mentioned you in—the same picture he made you take. it was a cute and possessive photo, far better than what you had planned to show off your ex.

the reminder of him startles you.

you're so in love, so strung on the high of breaking free from the friend zone that in pursuit of making more space for memories with sunoo, your brain had pushed any vicious feeling you had towards seojun and the plot you brewed against him out of your mind.

but now that you've reminded yourself of him, you oddly feel... nothing.

you tap on your screen to go to your conversation with seojun.

you weren't going to do anything malicious. you just wanted to read through your final conversation again and confirm that you didn't have any leftover anger or desire to prove your worth.

you expected to see your hate-filled texts, but instead, you got the messages sunoo sent to him on your behalf.

seojun still wanted you, still cared enough to barrage you with questions and clear it out with a talk. you thought you'd feel something because he got mad.

instead, you felt nothing at all.

the only reason for the wicked smile on your lips was because you adored how cruel sunoo gets when he's possessive, going as far as giving your ex proof of your relationship in the form of your breathless moans while sunoo fucked your brain numb for the second time.

filthy, hot, possessive, and completely yours.

getting back at your ex was what you initially planned for, but getting fucked (and confessed to) by your best friend was what you got instead—and that's probably most fulfilling outcome you could have ever imagined.

because, yeah.

happiness really is sweeter than revenge.

FROM YAN 🐰 ➤ this birthday fic is for my favorite boy, my husband, and the absolute love of my life kim sunoo. happy birthday, my love. ♡ + peep the angel number word count? yeah, that's sunoo sending me his love n approval !! >< and um.. i kinda went insane on this, if u can't tell by the tags.. i also had to revise a few scenes but i'm pretty happy with how it turned out hehe. this is also for the kim sunoo luvbots nation WE ON THE UP UPPPSSSS !!! + my special sunshine, my sunoo-loving twin, bini sol: if ur out there reeding this, this is also for you. imy and ily. < 3

PERMANENT TAGLIST  ➤  @mariegibeau @kristynaaah @ikeukiss @zerocoded @alex-is-sleeping @ntxs1 @angelhyuka @tsukheeshima @clxssy1997 @cripplinghooman @xoxo-seraphine @jakeycakeys @neozon3nha @jakeycakeys @vmpiricou @ja4hyvn @luv4dani @nightcat101 @wonkiipiilled @boundlesselixirflux @cokewithcameron @taesungx @aerrdeicall @meikstv @justpassingdontworry @firstclassjaylee

ᡣ𐭩ྀི₊ ⊹ smau masterlist ᝰ.ᐟ✮⋆˙

𝜗𝜚 in case anyone’s confused, airheads and warheads are brands that sell candies!! X♡X♡, romi ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

You downshifted with a vicious grin, the engine roaring back to life as you slingshotted out of the tunnel’s mouth and into the open night. The Pacific stretched dark and endless to your right, waves crashing against the cliffs below. One wrong twitch and you’d join them. Perfect. The finish line was a flickering set of headlights two miles out, guarded by a crowd of shadows and cash. Underground racing didn’t do checkered flags. It did blood money, broken bones, and reputations carved in burnt rubber.

You were the Ghost. Undefeated. The woman who turned junkyard dreams into monsters that ate supercars for breakfast. Owner of the hidden garage buried under an old shipyard, where the real magic happened. Twin-turbo swaps in the middle of the night, custom ECUs that laughed at factory limits, nitro systems that could make a Prius feel like a demon. The underground scene whispered your name like a curse and a prayer. You modded for kings and crushed them on the same night.

Tonight’s race was supposed to be easy money. Some rich kid with more ego than skill. But the Lambo was no toy. It was fighting dirty, and you loved it. You flicked the nitrous. The world punched forward. Your Supra lunged like it wanted to tear the road in half. The Lambo’s driver panicked, overcorrected, and you slipped past on the inside, kissing his bumper with just enough love to send him spinning toward the guardrail.

Metal screamed. Glass shattered. Cheers erupted from the distant crowd. You crossed the line doing 210, engine howling victory as you slammed the brakes and drifted to a smoky stop. Heart hammering. Blood singing. That was the high no drug could touch.

The crowd surged, warehouse rats, tunnel runners, shady bookies with wads of cash thick enough to choke on. Abandoned highways like this one, old industrial tunnels, flickering warehouse meets where bets started at five figures and ended in broken jaws. This was your kingdom. No sponsors. No rules. Just speed, money, and survival.

You killed the engine and stepped out, black racing suit hugging every curve, hair wild from the helmet you tossed onto the hood. The Ghost didn’t pose for cameras. She collected.

“Pay up,” you called, voice cutting through the chaos. A nervous kid with a duffel bag approached, eyes wide. You took the cash without counting, trust was earned by fear, not receipts.

But the night wasn’t done with you. Three cars rolled up slow from the opposite end of the lot, engines purring like predators who’d already eaten. A matte-black Nissan GT-R, a slammed Porsche 911 with custom widebody aggression, and a wickedly low Mitsubishi Evo that looked like it was built for war. They stopped in a perfect line, headlights pinning you like spotlights on a stage.

The doors opened. First out was the one with the sharp gaze and quiet command, Jungwon. Lean, calculated, the kind of guy who mapped every race three moves ahead. Dark hair, sharper jawline, black jacket slung over his shoulders like he owned the wind itself. Strategic leader. The brain who turned their trio into something unstoppable.

Next, Sunoo. Pretty in a way that could disarm you right before he ruined your life. A sly little smile playing on his lips, golden hair catching the distant lights, moving like he was dancing even when standing still. The pretty-boy driver who could charm a cop out of a ticket or slide through traffic like smoke.

And then Riki, tall, feral, all sharp edges and barely contained chaos. The speed demon. the one who looked like he’d race the devil and win on principle, his dark eyes were locked on you with pure, hungry delight.

The crowd quieted. Everyone knew these three, they didn’t just race, they hunted, no public faces, no socials, just ghosts in their own right, fast cars, dirty money, and a reputation for winning at any cost. They’d cleared half the circuit in the last six months. Now they were here.

Jungwon stepped forward first, hands in his pockets, calm as still water. “Ghost,” he said, voice smooth but edged. “Heard you don’t lose.”

You leaned back against your Supra, arms crossed, cocky smirk already in place. “Heard right. You three here to watch or waste my time?”

Sunoo chuckled, low and sweet, circling your car with appreciative eyes. “Pretty thing like you, running alone? Dangerous. Someone might steal your crown.”

“Try it,” you shot back, eyes gleaming. “I bite harder than I look.”

Riki grinned wide, all teeth, already bouncing on his heels like the engine in his Evo was revving inside his chest. “I like her. Let’s race. Right now. Winner takes the loser’s ride.”

The crowd murmured. High stakes. These boys didn’t play small. Jungwon tilted his head, studying you like a chessboard. “Three against one’s not fair. But you don’t seem like the type who needs fair. Tunnel run. Full circuit. Abandoned stretch past the old docks. First to the warehouse district wins. Loser owes the winner… whatever they want.”

Your pulse kicked up again, that delicious pressure building. Cocky energy rolled off you in waves. “Whatever I want?” You pushed off the car, stepping right into their space, close enough to smell engine oil and adrenaline. “Careful, pretty boys. I might take all three of your cars and leave you walking.”

Sunoo’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Bold. I like bold. But we don’t lose either, Ghost.”

Riki cracked his knuckles. “She talks big. Let’s see if she drives bigger.”

You laughed, sharp and genuine, the sound cutting through the night. “Get in your cars, boys. I’ll give you a head start. Wouldn’t want you crying about a slow warm-up.”

Jungwon’s lips curved, just a fraction. Respect mixed with challenge. “No head start. We race clean.”

Engines fired up around you. The GT-R’s twin turbos spooled with menace. The Porsche’s flat-six screamed. Riki’s Evo growled like a caged animal ready to break free. You slid back into your Supra, fingers wrapping around the wheel like an old lover. The hidden garage waited back home, your sanctuary of half-built beasts and secrets. But right now? This was the real church. Rubber on road. Heart in throat.

The flag dropped. Tires exploded smoke. Four cars launched into the darkness, the night swallowing them whole. Your Supra surged forward, glued to the asphalt, chasing the taillights ahead like prey that didn’t know it was already dead. Jungwon was smart, positioning early, blocking lines. Sunoo was slippery, using every gap like he was born in them. Riki? Pure chaos, diving into corners that should’ve ended him, laughing through the radio static that crackled between racers. You were the Ghost. And ghosts didn’t just win. They haunted. The tunnel loomed again, black mouth open wide. You downshifted, grinning like a devil. “Try to keep up, boys.”

The real race had just begun. Riki’s Evo launched beside you, feral and vicious, its aggressive stance clawing at the asphalt as he tried to muscle you into the wall on the first straight. Jungwon and Sunoo hung back, watching, but this opening heat was yours and the speed demon’s, raw, brutal, no mercy.

You didn’t give him an inch. The abandoned coastal highway twisted ahead like a black serpent, salt wind whipping through the open windows, carrying the metallic tang of burnt rubber and ocean spray. You shifted with surgical brutality, the gear lever slamming home as the Supra surged, pinning you back into the seat. Your thighs clenched around the vibrating bucket, anticipation bubbling in your belly from the thrill of racing three of the most notorious racers.

Riki was good, fucking terrifyingly good. He dove into the first sweeping curve like a predator waiting for this opportunity, apexing so tight his tires screamed in protest, trying to slingshot ahead. But you were the Ghost. You knew every crack in this forsaken road, every deceptive camber, every place where the asphalt buckled just enough to punish the reckless.

You feinted left, forcing him to commit, then cut inside with merciless precision. Your Supra kissed the inside line, suspension compressing hard enough to make your tits bounce against the harness. Riki’s Evo fought for traction, rear stepping out for half a second, enough. You blasted past in a blur of smoke and taillight fury, leaving him choking on your exhaust.

“Eat it, pretty boy,” you growled under your breath, a wicked grin splitting your face.

The tunnel swallowed you both. Darkness absolute, broken only by the strobe of emergency lights and the hellfire glow of your instruments. You flicked the nitrous again, and the car lunged, a violent surge of acceleration that made your heartbeat flutter against your skin from pure adrenaline and mechanical concentration. 200. 215. The Supra felt alive, like it wanted to fuck the road raw and leave it dripping.

Riki tried everything. He rammed your bumper once, twice, desperate and snarling. Metal kissed metal in sparks that lit the tunnel like fireworks. You laughed, loud, sharp, cocky, then braked late into the next chicane, forcing him to swerve wide or die kissing the concrete barrier. He chose life. Barely.

You smoked him by four full car lengths at the warehouse district marker.

You drifted to a smoky, arrogant stop in the middle of the cracked lot, engine ticking hot as it cooled. Stepping out, your racing suit clung to your sweat-slick skin, zipper pulled just low enough to tease the swell of your breasts. Your hair was a wild mess, cheeks flushed, lips parted as you caught your breath. The Ghost, victorious again.

Riki’s Evo screeched in seconds later, slamming to a halt beside you. He killed the engine and exploded out of the car like a storm breaking. He was fuming with rage and something far darker.

Towering, lean-muscled, sweat making his dark hair stick to his forehead, black tank stretched tight over a chest that rose and fell with barely leashed violence. His eyes, sharp, predatory, burning, locked onto you like he wanted to devour you alive. Jungwon and Sunoo hung back, watching with dark amusement.

Riki stalked forward, boots crunching gravel, until he had you backed against the warm hood of your Supra. His hands slammed down on either side of you, caging you in, close enough that you could smell engine grease, clean sweat, and raw, furious lust rolling off him in waves.

“Fucking bitch,” he hissed, voice low and gravel-rough, lips inches from yours. His gaze dragged down your body like a physical touch, slow, filthy, devouring the way your nipples had hardened against the thin fabric of your suit, the flush creeping down your neck, the way your thighs pressed together just slightly. “You think you can humiliate me like that and just walk away?”

You didn’t flinch. Instead, you tilted your chin up, cocky smirk dripping with venom and invitation. Your hands came up, not to push him away, but to fist the front of his tank, yanking him even closer until your bodies were flush, heat against heat, fury against fury.

“Humiliate?” you purred, voice husky, lips brushing his with every word. “Baby, I destroyed you. Left you choking on my smoke like a desperate little slut. And you loved every second of it, didn’t you? I can see how hard you are right now.”

Riki’s breath hitched, a dangerous growl rumbling in his chest. One of his hands slid down to grip your hip hard enough to bruise, fingers digging in with bruising possession as he pressed his very obvious, very thick erection against your thigh. The friction sent a bolt of pure filthy heat straight to your core. You were soaked, and the way he ground against you made it worse. Better.

His face hovered so close you could taste his anger. Dark eyes bored into yours, eye-fucking you with such raw intensity it felt like he was already buried balls-deep inside you, splitting you open on that cock you could feel throbbing against your leg.

“You’re so fucking cocky,” he breathed, lips ghosting over yours, not quite kissing, just teasing the promise of violence and filthy sex. “Walking around like you own the night. Like no one could bend you over this hood and fuck that attitude right out of you.”

Your pulse hammered. Your cunt clenched around nothing, aching, dripping. You rolled your hips once, deliberately, dragging yourself along the hard line of his dick and watching his jaw clench so tight it looked painful.

“Try it,” you whispered, lips brushing his, breath mingling hot and wet. “I dare you, Riki. Pin me down. Fuck me stupid. See if you can make the Ghost scream for you.”

The almost-kiss was torture, lips barely touching, breaths ragged, both of you trembling with the effort not to close that last millimeter. Furious. Horny beyond reason. The air between you crackled, thick with the promise of hate-fucking so raw it would leave marks for days.

Riki’s fingers tightened on your hip, the other hand sliding up to grip your jaw, thumb pressing hard against your lower lip, parting it like he owned it. “You’re going to regret this,” he snarled softly, eyes black with lust.

You smiled against his thumb, slow and filthy. “Make me.” The night pulsed around you, engines still ticking, crowd watching from a distance, but all that mattered was the brutal, delicious tension threatening to snap and consume you both.

The air between you crackled like live wire in the salt-laced night air, thick enough to choke on. Riki’s body pressed against yours with bruising insistence, his cock a hard, insistent ridge grinding against your thigh, his breath hot and ragged against your mouth, thumb still claiming your lower lip like a brand. For one suspended heartbeat, the filthy promise hung there: the hood of your Supra, your legs spread wide, his hips slamming into you until the only sound louder than your screams was the wet slap of skin and the roar of distant engines.

But you were the Ghost.

With a slow, predatory smile curling your lips, you planted both palms flat against the hard plane of his chest and shoved. The push was deliberate, powerful, born from core strength honed by years of wrestling modified beasts and throwing your weight into every reckless maneuver. Riki staggered back a step, surprise flashing across those sharp, feral features before it melted into something darker, pure, seething hunger laced with frustration.

“Enough foreplay,” you murmured, voice low and velvet-rough, dripping with mockery and invitation. “You want me? Earn it properly next time, pretty boy. I don’t fuck losers who can’t even keep up on the straight.”

You turned away from him with languid arrogance, the zipper of your racing suit still teasingly low, the fabric clinging to the curve of your spine and the generous swell of your ass. The cool night wind kissed your heated skin as you bent slightly to retrieve your helmet from where it rested on the hood. The movement was unhurried, deliberate, arching your back just enough to let the dim warehouse lights paint sinful shadows across your body, knowing full well his eyes were devouring every inch.

The helmet felt cool and familiar in your grip, a talisman of speed and dominance. You tucked it under one arm, running a hand through your tousled hair, letting the strands fall messily around your flushed face. Your thighs still trembled faintly from the adrenaline and the aching emptiness he’d left between them, your cunt slick and throbbing, panties ruined beneath the thin racing suit, but you didn’t falter. Not for a second.

The crowd parted instinctively as you began to walk away, boots crunching over gravel and shattered glass with measured, confident strides. Every step radiated unchallenged power: hips swaying with natural, dangerous grace, shoulders back, chin lifted in quiet supremacy. The distant crash of waves against the cliffs below mingled with the low murmur of engines cooling and the hushed whispers of onlookers who had just witnessed the speed demon get thoroughly humbled, and then denied.

Behind you, Riki remained rooted in place, chest heaving, fists clenched at his sides. You could feel the weight of his stare like a physical caress, dark, scorching, heavy with barely-leashed violence and raw, animalistic lust. It dragged down the length of your body, lingering on the sway of your ass, the way the suit hugged the dip of your waist, the glistening sheen of sweat along your collarbone. His jaw was locked tight, lips parted, breath still coming in short, furious bursts. The bulge in his pants hadn’t subsided; if anything, your rejection had only made him harder, more viciously aroused. He looked like a man who wanted to chase you down, slam you against the nearest wall, and fuck you until your voice broke and your legs gave out. Like he wanted to ruin you and be ruined in return. The fury in his eyes promised retribution, filthy, prolonged, and exquisitely cruel.

You didn’t glance back. Not once. Instead, you tossed a final cocky line over your shoulder, voice carrying clear and taunting through the night. “Keep staring like that and you might just cum in your pants before you even get another shot at me, Riki.”

A low, dangerous chuckle rumbled from his chest, half growl, half laugh, but he didn’t move. Not yet. Jungwon and Sunoo watched from beside their cars, expressions a mix of amusement and sharpened interest, but they stayed silent, letting the moment simmer.

You reached your Supra’s driver side, sliding in with fluid grace. The engine purred to life beneath you once more, a deep, throaty vibration that resonated straight through your still-sensitive core. As you pulled away from the lot in a controlled, smoky drift, the rearview mirror caught one last glimpse: Riki standing exactly where you’d left him, eyes locked on your taillights with the kind of dark, obsessive intensity that promised this was far from over.

The night swallowed you, but the heat of his gaze lingered on your skin like a brand, filthy, promising, and dangerously addictive. The taillights of your Supra faded into the black throat of the night, leaving behind nothing but the low rumble of distant waves and the faint scent of burnt rubber hanging in the air like expensive perfume mixed with sin.

Riki stood frozen for a long second, chest still heaving, cock straining painfully against the front of his pants like it had a personal vendetta against the zipper. Then, with a guttural curse, he dragged both hands through his damp hair, tugging hard at the roots as if the sting could ground him. “Fuck,” he growled, the word raw and dripping with frustration. “That fucking tease. She pushes me off like I’m some amateur and just walks away like she knows exactly what she’s doing to me.”

Sunoo leaned against the hood of his Porsche, arms crossed, a sly, amused smirk playing on his pretty lips. His eyes glittered with dark delight as he watched Riki pace like a caged animal. “She does know. Did you see the way she looked at you? Like she wanted you to bend her over right there but decided you hadn’t earned it yet.”

Jungwon stood a few feet away, calm as ever, but his gaze lingered on the empty stretch of road where you’d disappeared. He exhaled slowly, a rare, low chuckle escaping him. “She’s a fucking challenge, beggin for us to break her open,” he said, voice smooth and measured, carrying that quiet authority that made the rest of them listen. “She’s lethal. That body in that suit? The way she moves, like she was built for sin and speed, the way she shoved you… Christ, Riki. You should shoot your shot.”

Riki let out a frustrated laugh, still gripping his hair before dropping his hands. His palms flexed at his sides like he could still feel the heat of your waist under them. “I wanted to fuck her right there on the hood. Pin her down, rip that suit open and bury myself so deep she forgets her own name. She was soaked for it—I could tell. The way her thighs kept pressing together, that little flush on her neck.”

Sunoo’s smirk deepened, tongue darting out to wet his lower lip. “Imagine how tight she is. All that attitude and fire? She’d fight you the whole time, clawing your back, cursing you, then moaning like a whore when you hit that spot just right. Bet she gets loud. Wet. Drips down your balls while you’re pounding her senseless, yeah?”

“God, yeah,” Riki groaned, adjusting himself blatantly, no shame left in him. His eyes were still fixed on the road, dark and obsessive. “I wanted to drop to my knees and taste her right there in front of everyone. See if the Ghost tastes as filthy as she talks. Then flip her around, bend her over that Supra, and fuck her until her legs shake and she’s begging me to fill her up. She acts untouchable, but I bet once you get inside her, she milks you like she never wants you to pull out.”

Jungwon’s expression stayed composed, but the heat in his eyes betrayed him. He tilted his head, watching Riki with calculated interest. “She’d be exquisite. Tight, hot, dripping. Strong thighs locking around your waist, back arching, those perfect tits bouncing while you rail her. She’s got stamina too, racing does that. She wouldn’t tap out easy. You’d have to earn every filthy sound she makes.”

Riki exhaled sharply, a predatory grin finally breaking through the frustration. “Next time I catch her, I’m not letting her walk away. I’ll have her spread open, screaming my name while I ruin that pretty pussy. Make her admit she wants it just as bad.”

Sunoo laughed softly, low and wicked. “We all might want a taste by the end of this. But you saw her first, Riki. Go hunt her down. Just make sure when you finally fuck her, you do it right. Make it dirty. Make it hurt so good she comes back for more.”

The three of them stood in the flickering lot, engines still ticking cool, the air thick with the residue of your presence, arrogant, intoxicating, and dangerously addictive. Riki’s jaw tightened with fresh resolve, the fire in his veins burning hotter than any race. This wasn’t over.

The garage smelled of motor oil, ozone from the welding torch, and the faint metallic bite of coolant. Deep in the bowels of the abandoned shipyard, your hidden sanctuary hummed under flickering industrial lights that cast long, dramatic shadows across half-built chassis and gleaming engine blocks. It was well past 2 a.m., the kind of hour where the underground world felt most alive. You were bent over the exposed engine bay of your Supra, back arched, the zipper of your racing suit pulled down to the valley between your breasts because the night was thick and humid, sweat tracing slick paths down your sternum and between your tits.

Tools clinked in your grease-streaked hands as you tightened a stubborn turbo fitting, muscles flexing under the thin fabric that clung like a second skin. The suit gaped open invitingly, revealing the inner swell of your breasts and the flat, toned plane of your stomach. You didn’t hear him at first, too focused, too deep in the mechanical rhythm that always calmed the storm in your blood.

But Riki had found you.

The heavy roll-up door rattled open with a metallic groan. You straightened slowly, wiping your hands on a rag, turning to face the intruder with that signature cocky tilt to your chin. He stood silhouetted in the doorway like a predator who’d finally run down its prey, tall, wired, dark hair messy from the ride over, eyes burning with hours of pent-up fury and raw, unrelenting lust.

“You really thought you could leave me like that?” His voice was low, dangerous, echoing off the concrete walls as he stalked inside. The door slammed shut behind him, sealing the two of you in. “Walking away with that smug little smirk while my dick was so hard it fucking hurt?”

You tossed the rag aside, leaning back against the Supra’s fender, arms crossing under your chest in a way that deliberately pushed your breasts higher, the zipper slipping another dangerous inch. A slow, taunting smile curved your lips. “Poor baby. Couldn’t handle getting smoked and then denied? Go cry about it somewhere else, Riki. I’m busy.”

He was on you in three strides.

The confrontation ignited like spilled fuel meeting flame. Riki’s hand shot out, fingers tangling brutally in your hair as he yanked your head back, exposing the elegant line of your throat. His mouth crashed against yours in a violent, devouring kiss, teeth clashing, tongues fighting for dominance, no tenderness, only raw hunger. You bit his lower lip hard enough to draw a growl from deep in his chest, then kissed him back just as viciously, hands fisting his shirt and dragging him closer.

“Cocky little bitch,” he snarled against your mouth, biting your lip in retaliation before sucking on it. His free hand shoved the zipper the rest of the way down, exposing your bare skin to the cool garage air. He palmed one breast roughly, thumb flicking over your already-hard nipple, pinching until you gasped into the kiss.

You shoved him back just enough to breathe, eyes blazing. “Then do something about it, speed demon. Or are you only good at talking shit?”

That snapped the last thread of restraint. Riki spun you around and bent you over the hood for a moment, grinding his massive erection against your ass while his hand snaked around to squeeze your throat, not cutting off air completely, but enough to make your pulse thunder under his fingers. “You’re mine tonight,” he growled, lips brushing your ear. “Gonna fuck that attitude right out of this pretty cunt.”

He hauled you upright, kissing you again, filthy, wet, spit-slick, before dragging you toward the Supra’s rear door. The backseat was spacious, leather pristine and waiting. He shoved you inside first, following immediately, the door slamming shut and trapping you both in the intimate, gasoline-scented confines of your own car.

Clothes were torn off in a frenzy. Your suit was peeled down your body like shedding skin, his shirt ripped over his head to reveal a lean, sculpted torso marked with faint scars from past wrecks. You barely had time to admire it before he was on you again, pushing you onto your back across the backseat, one knee forcing your thighs apart.

Riki’s hand returned to your throat, squeezing with perfect pressure as he leaned down and spit directly into your open mouth. “Swallow,” he ordered, voice gravel-rough. You did, eyes locked on his, defiant even as heat flooded your core and your pussy clenched with shameful need.

He grinned, feral and beautiful. “Good girl. My new fuckhole.”

His fingers found you soaked, embarrassingly, shamefully drenched. Two thick digits shoved inside without warning, curling cruelly against that spongy spot that made your back arch off the leather. You moaned, loud and unfiltered, hips bucking into his hand. He finger-fucked you mercilessly, thumb grinding against your swollen clit while his other hand kept your throat pinned.

“Look at you,” he taunted, voice dripping with dark satisfaction. “So fucking wet for the guy you humiliated. This greedy little cunt is dripping all over my fingers.”

You reached up, nails raking down his chest hard enough to leave red trails. “Then fuck me already, you bastard. Or I’ll find someone who can.”

Riki’s eyes flashed with pure animalistic rage and lust. He withdrew his fingers, shoved his pants down just enough to free his cock, long, thick, flushed dark and leaking at the tip. He stroked himself once, twice, then hooked your legs over his shoulders, folding you in half as he lined up and thrust into the hilt in one brutal stroke.

The stretch burned deliciously. You cried out, walls fluttering around the sudden invasion as he bottomed out, balls pressed tight against you. He didn’t give you time to adjust, pulling back and slamming in again, setting a punishing rhythm that rocked the entire car on its suspension.

“Fuck— so tight,” he groaned, hips snapping forward with savage force. The wet, obscene sounds of your pussy taking him filled the confined space. He reached up, yanked the sun visor down, flipping open the mirror so it angled perfectly. “Watch. Watch yourself get ruined, Ghost.”

You turned your head. The sight was obscene: your face flushed, lips swollen, eyes glassy with pleasure; your tits bouncing with every violent thrust; Riki’s powerful body driving into you, muscles flexing, sweat gleaming. His hand returned to your throat, choking you lightly as he fucked you deeper, harder.

“Little bitch,” he panted, punctuating each word with a punishing thrust. “Acting untouchable. Now you’re just my fuckhole. Taking this cock like you were made for it.”

Your moans turned into broken sobs of pleasure. One hand braced against the roof, the other clawing at his back. He leaned down, biting your neck, sucking marks into your skin while his hips rolled relentlessly. The angle hit everything, deep, brutal, perfect. Your orgasm crashed over you without warning, pussy spasming around him so hard your vision whited out. You screamed his name, thighs shaking.

Riki didn’t stop. He fucked you through it, then flipped you onto your knees, face pressed against the cool leather, ass up. He re-entered you from behind, one hand fisting your hair, yanking your head back so you could still see yourself in the mirror, mascara smudged, lips parted in a constant moan, tits swaying as he railed you.

He spit into your mouth again when you turned your head, making you swallow while he pounded you senseless. “Again. Cum on my cock again, you filthy slut.”

You did, shuddering, gushing around him, the leather beneath you slick with your release. Riki’s pace grew erratic, thrusts losing rhythm as he chased his own end. His grip on your hips turned bruising.

“Gonna fill this pussy up,” he growled. “Mark my new fuckhole.”

With a guttural roar, he buried himself to the hilt and came hard. Thick, hot ropes of cum flooded your insides, pulse after pulse until it was too much. When he finally pulled out, a messy creampie leaked from your wrecked hole, dripping in thick white strands onto the black leather seats.

You collapsed, chest heaving, body trembling with aftershocks. Riki leaned over you, pressing a surprisingly soft kiss to your shoulder before the feral edge returned.

He whispered against your ear, voice dark and possessive, “This isn’t over. Not even close.” The Supra’s windows were fogged. The garage was silent except for your ragged breathing.

Outside, the night waited, full of more races, more tension, more delicious destruction.

The next night found the trio back at their usual haunt, a dimly lit warehouse on the outskirts where the air hung heavy with cigarette smoke, cheap whiskey, and the low thrum of bass from hidden speakers. Riki couldn’t sit still. He paced the concrete floor like a man possessed, energy crackling off him in waves, a fresh bruise on his neck peeking from beneath his collar like a trophy.

“You should’ve seen her,” he said, voice rough with lingering hunger. He ran a hand through his hair, eyes dark and distant, replaying every filthy second. “She was so fucking tempting, so fucking hot.”

Jungwon leaned back against a stack of tires, one eyebrow raised, a slow, intrigued smile tugging at his lips. “Damn. Sounds like the Ghost finally met her match.”

Riki let out a low, satisfied laugh. “Match? Nah. I broke her. She was soaked before I even got inside her. Fought me the whole time but her pussy was gripping me like it never wanted me to leave. I’m telling you, that woman is addictive. Dangerous. Best fuck I’ve ever had.”

Sunoo sat on the hood of his car, legs dangling, pretty face deceptively calm. But beneath the surface, something shifted. He listened to every graphic detail, every filthy recounting, and felt a slow, insidious heat curl low in his stomach. At first it was mere curiosity, the way Riki, usually so feral and quick to move on, couldn’t shut up about her. But the more Riki talked, the more Sunoo found himself studying the mental image: your arched back, the cocky smirk even while getting railed, the way you must’ve taken control even when pinned down.

Interesting, Sunoo thought, tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek. She’s under his skin. Maybe I need to see what all the hype is about.

From that moment, Sunoo began watching you differently. Whenever your name came up in underground circles, or when your Supra tore through a tunnel run, his eyes narrowed with calculated interest. He catalogued your movements from afar, the confident sway of your hips when you walked away from a win, the precise way your hands worked under a hood, the sharp intelligence behind every taunting word. You weren’t just another racer. You were a puzzle wrapped in sin, and Sunoo had always loved solving things the hard way.

Two nights later, he showed up at your garage unannounced.

The roll-up door was partially open, golden light spilling out into the shipyard darkness. Sunoo killed the engine of his matte Porsche and stepped out, dressed in a loose black shirt unbuttoned just enough to show the sharp line of his collarbones, sleeves rolled up to reveal toned forearms. He moved with that signature graceful slyness, like a fox slipping into a henhouse.

You were inside again, this time crouched beside a workbench, tools spread out like surgical instruments. You were wearing a simple tank top and had thrown on a pair of pants that didn’t mind getting dirty with grease, the fabric clinging to your sweat-damp skin. Sunoo let his gaze linger openly, appreciative, unhurried, drinking in the sight.

“Well, well,” he drawled, voice smooth as silk and twice as deceptive. “The infamous Ghost in her natural habitat. Mind if I interrupt your little mechanical worship?”

You straightened, wiping grease from your hands, eyes narrowing with immediate suspicion and a spark of amusement. “Sunoo. To what do I owe the displeasure? Come to beg for racing tips after your boy got his ass handed to him?”

He chuckled softly, stepping deeper into the garage, circling you slowly like he was appraising a prized engine. “Actually, I need some mods. My Porsche has been… misbehaving. Needs a firmer hand. Someone who knows how to make it scream just right.” His eyes dropped deliberately to the exposed curve of your breasts, then back up to your face, the implication dripping like honeyed venom.

You crossed your arms, pushing your chest up further, meeting his gaze with pure cocky defiance. “Flirting already? Riki must’ve run his mouth. What’d he tell you, that I’m an easy conquest now?”

Sunoo stopped in front of you, close enough that you caught the clean scent of his cologne mixed with engine oil. He tilted his head, studying you with those sharp, pretty eyes that seemed to peel back layers. “Oh, he hasn’t shut up about you. Every detail. How tight you are. How you moaned his name while he fucked you stupid in your own backseat. How you took his cum like you were starving for it.” 

He reached out, bold as brass, and lightly traced a finger along the edge of the hem of your tank, not quite touching skin but close enough to make the air between you crackle. “I have to admit… I’m intrigued. You don’t seem like the type to let anyone ruin you. Yet here Riki is, walking around like he conquered the unconquerable. Makes a man wonder what it would take to make you fall apart for him too.”

Your pulse quickened despite yourself. Sunoo’s approach was completely different from Riki’s feral onslaught, this was psychological, teasing, a slow seduction wrapped in mind games. He was peeling you open with words, watching every micro-expression, every shift in your breathing.

“Careful,” you warned, voice low and dangerous, stepping closer until your bodies nearly brushed. “You might bite off more than you can chew, pretty boy.”

Sunoo’s lips curved into a wicked, angelic smile. “I’m counting on it. I like things that fight back. Makes the eventual surrender so much sweeter.” His voice dropped to a velvet murmur. “Tell me, Ghost… when he had you bent over, choking on his cock with your own reflection staring back at you, did you think about the rest of us watching? Wondering how we’d feel stretching this legendary..?” he ghosted his finger tip over the waistband of your pants.

He let the silence stretch, eyes locked on yours, the tension thickening like smoke. Then he pulled back slightly, all business again, though the heat in his gaze remained.

“So. About those mods. I’ll pay whatever you want. Cash. Favors.” His smirk deepened. “Or we could work out a more… creative arrangement. I’m very good at negotiating.”

You felt the pull, that dangerous, addictive magnetism. Sunoo wasn’t rushing in like Riki. He was circling, probing, planting seeds. And damn if it wasn’t working. The garage suddenly felt smaller, hotter, charged with a new kind of filthy promise.

This trio was becoming far more than just competition on the road.  And Sunoo had every intention of getting under your skin, and eventually, deep inside you, to see exactly what made the Ghost unravel.

The garage was quiet, save for the low metallic ticking of cooling engines and the distant murmur of the sea beyond the shipyard. You were alone, dressed down after a long night of work, tiny black athletic shorts that barely covered the curve of your ass, and an oversized, worn-out tee that hung off one shoulder, the thin fabric doing nothing to hide the fact you weren’t wearing a bra. Your nipples pressed against the cotton, sensitive from the cool night air drifting through the half-open roll-up door. Grease streaked your thighs and forearms as you tinkered with a half-finished chassis perched on jack stands in the center of the space, a sleek, bare-boned beast waiting for its soul.

You were bent over the hood when the door rattled open without warning.

Sunoo slipped inside like he belonged there, dressed in a black button-up half-undone and dark pants that hugged his lean frame. His hair fell softly over his forehead, and that angelic, dangerous smile was already curving his lips as he took in the sight of you, bare legs, messy hair, the way the oversized tee rode up to expose the underside of your ass when you straightened.

“Jesus, Ghost,” he drawled, voice silky and amused. “Did I catch you at a bad time? Or is this how you always greet your favorite customer?”

You wiped your hands on the rag, shooting him an irritated glare. “Sunoo. Ever heard of knocking? Or calling? It’s four in the fucking morning. I’m not in the mood for your mind games tonight.”

He ignored the warning, strolling closer with that infuriating grace, eyes dragging slowly over your bare thighs, the hard points of your nipples visible through the thin shirt, the way your shorts clung to your hips. “You look… edible. All soft and rumpled. Makes a man forget why he came here in the first place.”

You rolled your eyes and turned back to the car, deliberately bending deeper over the hood just to test him. “If you’re here for mods, talk price and leave. If you’re here to run your mouth about how Riki can’t stop bragging, save it. I’m busy.”

Sunoo chuckled softly and closed the distance. Instead of touching you, he leaned against the half-finished car right beside you, close enough that his warmth bled into your side. “Busy looking fuckable enough to distract a saint. You always this mouthy when you’re barely dressed?”

The annoyance built slowly, deliciously. He kept talking, teasing, poking, complimenting in the most backhanded, psychological way possible. Every time you snapped at him, he’d smile wider, stepping just a little closer, brushing “accidentally” against your arm, your hip, the side of your breast when you reached for a tool.

An hour passed like that. Banter growing sharper. Tension thickening. Eventually, he had you backed against the hood of the unfinished car, your ass pressed to the cool metal. The garage lights cast a low, golden glow over your skin.

“You’re so fucking stubborn,” he murmured, finally placing his hands on either side of you, caging you without quite touching. “Pretending you don’t feel it. But I see the way your thighs press together every time I mention racing you. Every time I talk about pinning you down like Riki did.”

Your breath hitched despite yourself. Sunoo noticed, of course he did.

He stepped between your legs, hands finally sliding onto your thighs, thumbs stroking maddeningly slow circles along the sensitive inner skin. “Tell me, baby… does your pretty cunt get wet when you race against us? When you know three dangerous men are hunting you on the road?”

You tried to push him away, but there was no real force behind it. He caught your wrists gently, pinning them to the hood above your head with one hand while the other traced higher, slipping under the hem of your shorts.

“Answer me,” he whispered against your ear, lips brushing the shell. “Be honest, or I’ll stop.”

“…Yes,” you finally hissed, cheeks burning. “It makes me wet. Happy?”

Sunoo’s smile turned wickedly sweet. “Good girl.”

The seduction unraveled slowly, torturously. For hours. He stripped you of the tee with reverent fingers, exposing your tits to the cool air, then spent what felt like forever worshipping them, sucking, biting, licking, while his thigh pressed firmly between your legs. You rode his thigh like a desperate slut, grinding your soaked pussy against the hard muscle through your shorts, leaving a dark wet patch on his pants. Every time you got close, he pulled back, laughing softly at your frustrated growl.

“Uh-uh. Not yet. I want you dripping. Begging. Confessing.”

He peeled your shorts down your legs, leaving you completely bare on the hood of the half-finished car. The metal was cold against your overheated skin. Sunoo dropped to his knees, pretty face inches from your glistening cunt, and simply breathed on it. Teased. Edged you with nothing but words and feather-light touches for what felt like eternity.

“Look at this greedy little pussy,” he cooed, voice dripping with pretty degradation. “Soaking for a man who hasn’t even fucked you yet. Riki really wasn’t exaggerating. You’re pathetic for it, aren’t you? The big bad Ghost, reduced to humping my thigh and dripping all over my tongue like a needy whore.”

When he finally gave in, it was devastating.

His tongue, hot, skilled, relentless, devoured you. Long, slow licks followed by vicious sucks on your clit. Two elegant fingers curled deep inside you, stroking that perfect spot while he edged you mercilessly, bringing you right to the brink again and again before pulling away to kiss your trembling thighs and whisper filth.

“Say it again. Tell me how racing us makes this slutty cunt throb.”

“I get so fucking wet,” you gasped, hips bucking against his face, hands fisted in his soft hair. “Every time… every time I see your cars, I get soaked. I hate it. I fucking love it—”

Sunoo moaned against your pussy, the vibration sending you spiraling. “That’s my girl. So honest when you’re desperate.”

He finally let you cum, fingers pumping faster, tongue flicking perfectly over your swollen clit while he looked up at you with those sharp, angelic eyes. The orgasm tore through you like a nitrous blast, violent and shattering. Your back arched off the hood, thighs clamping around his head as you gushed on his tongue and fingers, moaning brokenly, vision whiting out.

He worked you through every pulse, licking up every drop like it was ambrosia, murmuring pretty degradations between licks. “Such a messy little cumslut. Look at you creaming all over my face. So fucking beautiful when you fall apart.”

When the last aftershock faded, he rose to his feet, lips shiny with your release. He kissed you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue, then stepped back with a satisfied, almost cruel little smile.

You reached for him, aching for his cock, for more, but he caught your wrist and gently pinned it back down. “Not tonight, Ghost,” he whispered, voice velvet-soft and devastating. “I want you desperate. Next time I come back, you’re going to beg me to fuck you properly.”

He straightened his clothes, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and gave you one last long, appreciative look, naked, trembling, cum-smeared on the hood of your own car in the dead of the night. “Sweet dreams, baby.” Then he was gone, leaving the garage door rattling shut behind him. You stayed there, legs spread, chest heaving, pussy still fluttering and aching for something he deliberately denied you. The pretty bastard. And the worst part? You already knew you’d be waiting for his next visit.

The safehouse they shared, a converted warehouse loft overlooking the old docks, was dark with bits of unfiltered light and the low hum of the city bleeding through the reinforced windows. It was nearly dawn when the lock clicked. Sunoo stepped inside, still carrying the scent of your garage on his skin: motor oil, sex, and the faint sweetness of your release. His lips were still slightly swollen, hair tousled from your fingers, and the taste of you lingered on his tongue like the finest sin.

Jungwon was waiting. The moment Sunoo closed the door, Jungwon moved like a shadow unleashed. He slammed Sunoo back against the concrete wall with surprising force, one hand fisting the front of his half-open shirt, collar gripped tight enough to wrinkle the fabric. Their faces were inches apart. Jungwon’s eyes burned, dark, stormy, barely contained, his usually calm, strategic mask completely shattered.

“Did you fuck her?” Jungwon growled, voice low and dangerous, breath hot against Sunoo’s cheek. His other fist was clenched at his side, knuckles white. “Answer me, Sunoo. Did you fuck Y/N tonight?”

Sunoo didn’t flinch. Instead, a slow, wicked smirk spread across his pretty face, eyes sparkling with satisfaction and mischief. He tilted his head slightly, even while pinned, utterly unbothered by the aggression.

“Oh, I didn’t fuck her,” he purred, voice velvet-soft and dripping with filthy delight. “Not yet. But I made her fall apart so beautifully, Won. Had her spread open on the hood of that half-finished car at 4 a.m., wearing nothing but those tiny shorts and that pathetic little tee. God… Riki wasn’t kidding. She is so fucking fine.”

Sunoo’s tongue darted out to wet his lower lip, savoring the memory.

“Her pussy was dripping before I even touched it properly. Soaking my thigh while she rode it like a desperate little slut, whimpering every time I mentioned racing us. I ate her out for hours, edged that greedy cunt until she was begging, shaking, confessing how wet she gets just thinking about us on the road. Then I finally let her cum on my tongue and fingers. She gushed, Won. Screamed. Looked so fucking perfect when she broke.”

Jungwon’s breathing grew ragged. His eyes flickered wildly, from Sunoo’s swollen lips, to the faint red marks on his neck, down to the unmistakable scent still clinging to him. His grip on Sunoo’s collar tightened, jaw locked so hard it looked painful. A storm of jealousy, lust, and frustration rolled across his sharp features.

Then, bang. Jungwon’s fist slammed into the wall right beside Sunoo’s head, hard enough to crack the surface and send a small shower of dust drifting down. He was panting now, chest heaving, strands of dark hair falling messily into his eyes. The composed leader was gone. In his place was a man unraveling at the seams, burning alive with possessive need.

Sunoo only smirked wider, utterly unfazed. He leaned forward as much as the grip on his collar allowed, lips brushing the shell of Jungwon’s ear, voice dropping into a low, teasing whisper.

“You know, Won… you can have her too,” he murmured, sweet and poisonous. “I know you want her. Badly. No need to be so jealous that Riki and I got to taste her first. She’s addictive, isn’t she? That cocky mouth. That perfect body. The way she fights and then melts when you hit the right spot…”

He let the words hang, watching the way Jungwon’s pupils blew wide, the way his breath hitched.

Sunoo’s hand came up slowly, fingers lightly tracing the tense line of Jungwon’s clenched jaw. “She’d look so good under you. Or between us. Imagine bending her over together… making her admit she belongs to all three of us now.”

Jungwon didn’t pull away. His forehead dropped against Sunoo’s shoulder, breaths mingling in the charged silence. The air between them was thick with violence, envy, and something darker,  shared hunger.

“Next time,” Jungwon finally rasped, voice rough as gravel, “you don’t go alone.”

Sunoo’s soft laugh echoed in the loft, low and victorious. “That’s my man.” The night had already claimed you in pieces. And the trio was only growing more ravenous.

The garage felt too quiet after Sunoo left you wrecked on that hood.

You sat there for a long time afterward, legs still spread, cum-slick thighs trembling, chest heaving as you stared at the ceiling and tried to piece together what the hell was happening to you.

What the fuck have I gotten myself into?

Riki had claimed you like a beast, brutal, raw, no mercy. He’d fucked you stupid in your own backseat, choked you, spat in your mouth, turned you into his personal fuckhole while you watched yourself shatter in the mirror. And you’d loved it. The violence. The filth. The way he made your body sing with hate and pleasure so intertwined you couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.

Then Sunoo. God, Sunoo. That pretty, psychological menace had spent hours edging you into madness with nothing but his voice, his thigh, his wicked tongue and elegant fingers. He’d made you confess how wet racing against them made you, how your pussy throbbed at the mere thought of their cars in your rearview. He’d degraded you so sweetly it felt like worship, then left you dripping and desperate, aching for a cock he deliberately denied you.

And now Jungwon, the calm, strategic one, was clearly unraveling too. You could feel it in the air, in the way the trio watched you during meets. Three dangerous, beautiful men circling you like wolves who’d tasted blood and wanted the whole feast.

Part of you was furious at how easily they were getting under your skin. You were supposed to be the one in control. The one who left them choking on your exhaust and their own lust. Yet here you were, touching the fresh marks on your neck, your thighs still sore, your clit still sensitive, wondering when the leader would finally snap and take his turn.

You hated how much you craved it. You needed it. The thought made you wet again even now, hours later. Three men. Three completely different kinds of ruin. And you, the Ghost, were starting to wonder if you’d finally met your match, not on the road, but in the delicious, filthy chaos they brought into your nights.

Two nights later, Jungwon found you alone at a smaller underground meet near the old industrial tunnels. He approached while you were leaning against your Supra, arms crossed, watching the lesser races with bored detachment. No Riki. No Sunoo. Just him, sharp jaw, darker-than-usual eyes, black jacket slung over his shoulders like armor. He moved with that quiet command that made people instinctively clear a path.

“Y/N,” he said, voice low and steady, but you caught the undercurrent of something sharper. “Race me. Tonight. Just you and me. No audience. No backup. Full circuit, the long tunnel route past the cliffs. Winner takes whatever they want from the loser.”

You raised an eyebrow, a cocky smirk tugging at your lips. “Bold. Your boys know you’re sneaking off to play with me alone?”

Jungwon’s gaze darkened. “They don’t need to know everything.”

The challenge hung between you, thick and electric. You accepted. The meeting point was a forgotten stretch of coastal highway at the edge of the cliffs, far from the usual crowds. Moonlight painted the asphalt silver, waves crashing violently below. Only two cars: your Supra and his matte-black GT-R, engines purring like predators sizing each other up.

You stepped out, wearing your racing suit zipped low again, hair loose and wild. Jungwon was already waiting. The moment you closed your door, he moved. No warning. He closed the distance in three strides, one hand gripping the back of your neck, the other sliding possessively around your waist as he yanked you against him. His mouth crashed into yours, deep, demanding, hungry. Not the chaotic violence of Riki or the teasing seduction of Sunoo. This was controlled fire. Jungwon kissed like he was staking a claim, tongue sliding against yours with deliberate dominance, teeth grazing your lip hard enough to sting. You tasted frustration. Jealousy. Weeks of watching his friends touch you before he could.

You kissed him back just as fiercely, fingers fisting his shirt, biting his tongue when he tried to take full control. A low growl rumbled in his chest. When he finally pulled back, just enough to speak, his forehead rested against yours, breath ragged. His hand stayed locked on the back of your neck, thumb stroking your pulse point.

“It’s my turn now,” he whispered against your swollen lips, voice rough and dark. “You’ve had them. Riki fucked you raw in your own car. Sunoo made you cum on his tongue like a desperate little slut. But tonight? You’re mine. All mine. I don’t like sharing what I want, Ghost. And I’ve wanted you since the first time I saw you smoke that idiot in the tunnel.”

His grip tightened, possessive, almost bruising. Those sharp eyes bored into yours, burning with barely-leashed intensity. “I’m not them. I’m not going to rush in and ruin you in five minutes. I’m going to take my time breaking you apart. Slowly. Thoroughly. Until the only name you remember is mine. Until this cocky, untouchable Ghost admits she’s dripping for the man who actually knows how to own her.”

You laughed breathlessly, defiant even as heat flooded your core and your thighs clenched. “Big words, Jungwon. Think you can back them up? Or are you just pissed your boys got to taste me first?”

His lips brushed yours again, slower this time, filthy and promising. “Race me. Beat me if you can. But when I win… I’m dragging you somewhere private and fucking you until you can’t walk straight. No sharing. No mercy. Just you, me, and hours of making up for lost time.”

The air between you crackled, thick with tension and raw, mutual hunger. Engines idled. The sea roared below. The night waited. Jungwon stepped back reluctantly, but not before stealing one last bruising kiss, biting your lower lip hard enough to leave a mark.

“Get in your car, baby,” he murmured, eyes black with promise. “Let’s see if the Ghost can handle what happens when the leader finally stops watching from the sidelines.” You slid back into the Supra, heart hammering, already aching with fresh, traitorous need. This wasn’t just a race anymore. It was foreplay. And Jungwon looked ready to win everything.

The race was brutal, beautiful, and completely rigged from the start.

Jungwon drove like a demon with a plan. He pushed you hard through the twisting coastal tunnels, his GT-R a black shadow in your mirrors, kissing your bumper on the straights and forcing aggressive lines through the corners. But at the final chicane before the cliffs, the one that decided everything, he hesitated just a fraction. A perfectly calculated mistake. You sliced through the gap like a blade, your Supra howling victory as you crossed the invisible finish line two car lengths ahead.

You killed the engine and stepped out into the moonlight, chest heaving, a savage, cocky grin splitting your face. The sea wind whipped your hair as you slammed the door and spread your arms wide.

“Looks like the great leader just got smoked,” you called out, voice dripping with arrogance. “What happened, Jungwon? All that big talk and you couldn’t even keep up? Pathetic.”

He climbed out of the GT-R slowly, eyes locked on you with terrifying intensity. On the surface, he was calm. But you could see it, the possessive jealousy simmering beneath that composed mask, boiling hotter with every cocky word out of your mouth. Riki had fucked you first. Sunoo had tasted you second. And now here you were, strutting like you’d conquered him too.

Perfect. He wanted you exactly like this, riding high on victory, mouthy, untouchable. Because when he finally broke you, the fall would be devastating. Before you could taunt him again, Jungwon crossed the distance in a blur. His hand clamped around your wrist like a vice and he yanked you toward his car, ignoring your sharp protest.

“Get in.”

“Jungwon—”

“I said get the fuck in.” He didn’t take you back to the garage. He drove in dark, furious silence to an abandoned underground parking structure deep in the industrial district, a concrete tomb of flickering fluorescent lights and echoing emptiness. The moment the GT-R rolled to a stop in the deepest level, he killed the engine, dragged you out by the waist, and slammed you against the trunk of his car.

His mouth crashed into yours with weeks of pent-up jealousy and hunger. The kiss was punishing, teeth and tongue and pure ownership. He bit your lip hard enough to draw a gasp, then soothed it with his tongue before devouring you again. “You think winning that race means shit?” he growled against your mouth, hands already ripping the zipper of your racing suit down to your navel. “I let you win, baby. I wanted you cocky. I wanted you dripping with that arrogant attitude when I finally ruin you.”

He shoved the suit off your shoulders, letting it pool at your waist, exposing your bare breasts to the cold underground air. His hands were everywhere, mauling your tits, pinching your nipples until you arched into him, then sliding down to shove the rest of the suit off your legs along with your panties in one aggressive motion.

You were naked in seconds. He was still fully dressed.

Jungwon spun you around and bent you over the trunk of his GT-R, your tits pressed against the cool, glossy black paint. He kicked your legs apart, one hand fisting your hair to yank your head back while the other freed his cock, thick, hard, and already leaking.

“You belong to us now,” he snarled, rubbing the fat head of his cock along your soaked slit. “Not just Riki. Not just Sunoo. All three of us. Say it.”

When you only moaned defiantly, he slammed into you in one brutal thrust, burying himself to the hilt. The stretch was devastating. You cried out, walls fluttering wildly around his girth as he bottomed out against your cervix. “Fuck— Jungwon—”

“Say it,” he repeated, pulling out almost completely before slamming back in, setting a punishing rhythm that made the car rock beneath you. His hips snapped against your ass with wet, obscene slaps that echoed through the empty garage. “Tell me who this pussy belongs to while I breed it.”

He fucked you like he was punishing you for every second he’d had to wait. Manhandling you with terrifying strength, yanking your hips back to meet every thrust, slapping your ass hard enough to leave marks, fisting your hair so you stayed arched perfectly for him.

“Yours— fuck, it’s yours— all three of you—” you gasped, the words torn from your throat as he railed you senseless.

“That’s right,” he growled, leaning over you, chest pressed to your back, teeth sinking into your shoulder. “My cocky little Ghost. Gonna fill this pussy until you’re leaking my cum on every starting line. Every time you slide into that Supra, you’ll feel me dripping out of you. Breeding you so deep you’ll be carrying my mark for days.”

His pace grew feral. Words poured out of him in a torrent of filthy promises between brutal thrusts. “Gonna pump you so full tonight you’ll be swollen with it. Riki and Sunoo can have their turns later, but right now this cunt is mine to ruin.”

He pulled out suddenly, spun you around, and lifted you onto the trunk like you weighed nothing. Your back hit the cool metal as he hooked your legs over his elbows, folding you in half and driving back inside with a guttural groan. The new angle let him hit impossibly deeper, the head of his cock kissing your cervix with every savage stroke.

You came hard the first time, screaming, nails raking down his back through his shirt, pussy gushing around him as your walls milked his cock. Jungwon didn’t stop. He fucked you through it, then kept going, chasing a second orgasm from your overstimulated body while his own release built. “Look at me,” he demanded, one hand wrapping around your throat. His eyes were wild, hair falling into them, sweat glistening on his sharp features. “Tell me again. Who do you belong to?”

“All of you,” you sobbed, voice breaking as another orgasm ripped through you. “Riki— Sunoo— fuck— Jungwon— I belong to all three of you—”

“Good girl.” With a deep, animalistic groan, he buried himself to the hilt and came. Thick, hot ropes of cum flooded your pussy, pulse after pulse as he ground deep, making sure it took. He stayed inside you, breathing hard, until the last drop was spent. Then he pulled out, watched his cum leak from your wrecked hole for a moment… and flipped you over again. The second round was even rougher.

He fucked you on the trunk until your legs shook uncontrollably, filling you with a second creampie that pushed the first one out in messy white rivulets down your thighs and onto the glossy paint of his car.  By the end, you were a trembling, cock-drunk mess, covered in sweat, cum leaking steadily from your abused pussy, voice hoarse from screaming his name. Jungwon finally pulled you against his chest, still buried deep inside you, pressing soft, possessive kisses along your marked neck while his hand gently stroked your stomach.

“Mine,” he whispered, the word heavy with dark satisfaction. “Ours.” The underground garage was silent except for your ragged breathing and the distant drip of cum onto concrete. And the undefeated Ghost had never felt more thoroughly, beautifully claimed.

The underground parking garage was still echoing with the ghost of your screams when Jungwon finally let you go. He had dressed you himself with surprising gentleness, sliding the racing suit back up your trembling body, zipping it slowly as if sealing his claim. His cum was still leaking down your thighs, soaking into the fabric, a warm, filthy reminder with every small movement. You were wrecked: legs shaky, voice hoarse, throat marked with his bites, hips and ass bruised from his brutal grip. Yet when he pulled you against his chest for one last kiss, it was slower, deeper, almost reverent.

He drove you back to your hidden garage in silence, one hand possessively resting on your thigh the entire way, thumb stroking the fresh marks he’d left. When you arrived, he killed the engine and turned to you, eyes dark and unreadable. “Get some rest, baby,” he murmured, leaning in to brush his lips against your ear. “You’re going to need it.” Then he was gone, leaving you standing in the cool night air, body aching in the most exquisite way.

The next day dragged in a haze of delicious pain.

You woke up in your loft above the garage well past noon, every muscle protesting as you shifted. Your pussy was sore, swollen, tender, still faintly leaking Jungwon’s cum even after a long shower. Bruises bloomed across your hips like fingerprints, bite marks decorated your breasts and inner thighs, and your throat felt raw from how many times you’d screamed for him. Walking hurt. Sitting hurt. Even the brush of soft fabric against your skin sent little sparks of overstimulation through your core.

You felt used. Thoroughly, perfectly ruined. And you couldn’t stop thinking about it. Lying on your bed in nothing but an oversized shirt, you stared at the ceiling, replaying every filthy second. Riki in the backseat. Sunoo teasing you, torturous tongue on the hood. Jungwon’s jealousy in that empty garage, the way he’d folded you in half and pumped you full again and again while making you admit you belonged to all three of them.

Three of them. The thought should’ve pissed you off. You didn’t belong to anyone. Yet your body betrayed you, a fresh wave of heat pooling between your sore thighs at the memory. You were getting addicted. To their different brands of dominance. To the way they looked at you like prey they wanted to devour slowly. To the dangerous thrill of wondering what they’d do to you next.

By late afternoon, your phone started blowing up. Texts from various underground contacts flooded in, race offers, challenges, high-stakes tunnel runs. You declined every single one.

Not tonight. Body’s fucked.

You typed the same message over and over, a little smirk on your lips despite the ache. Some sent concerned replies, others tried to tempt you with bigger purses. You ignored them all. For the first time in years, the Ghost was sitting out. Not because you were scared, but because you were smart. Your body needed recovery if you were going to survive whatever storm the trio was brewing.

You spent the rest of the day in the garage anyway, moving slowly. Cleaning tools. Tuning the Supra with careful, deliberate hands. Every bend, every stretch reminded you of how hard Jungwon had manhandled you. How deep he’d fucked you. How he’d growled about claiming you until you were dripping.

By nightfall, the anticipation had become its own kind of drug. You showered again, letting hot water soothe your sore muscles, then dressed simply, black shorts that hugged your ass and a loose tank top that did nothing to hide the marks on your neck and chest. You left your hair down, wild and messy. No racing suit tonight. You weren’t racing.

You were waiting. Pacing the garage slowly, you felt the nervous-excited energy crackling under your skin. Part of you, the strong part, wanted to greet them with your usual arrogance, to act like last night hadn’t shaken you. Another part, quieter and darker, wondered what it would feel like if all three of them came for you at once. If they stopped playing these separate games and finally shared their new favorite toy.

You touched the bruise on your hip, pressing until it stung. Let them come. The roll-up door was half-open, warm light spilling out into the shipyard darkness like an invitation. Engines rumbled faintly in the distance, or maybe it was just your imagination. Either way, the night felt heavy. Charged. Like the calm before something beautifully filthy broke.

You leaned against your Supra, arms crossed under your chest, a slow, dangerous smile curving your lips despite the lingering soreness between your legs.

The garage smelled like oil, metal, and the faint trace of your own anticipation when the three of them arrived together.

You were leaning against the workbench in the center of the space. The bruises from Jungwon still decorated your skin like dark medals, fingerprints on your hips, bite marks on your inner thighs, faint hickeys along your collarbone. Every shift of your body reminded you how sore you still were, yet the ache only made you wetter.

The roll-up door groaned open. Riki first, towering, Sunoo gliding in behind him with that angelic smile that said, we’re about to ruin you, and Jungwon bringing up the rear like the calm center of a gathering storm. They didn’t speak at first. They simply walked in and surrounded you, three predators locking onto their favorite prey. “Well, well,” you said, voice low and cocky, crossing your arms under your chest so the tank rode higher. “The whole pack decided to show up. Miss me already?”

Riki’s dark eyes dragged over your body like he wanted to eat you alive. “You’ve been dodging races, Y/N. Hiding that pretty, used-up pussy from us?”

Sunoo chuckled softly, stepping close enough that you could smell his cologne. “Smart girl. After what Jungwon did to you the other night… I’d be sore too.”

Jungwon didn’t smile. He simply watched you with those sharp, possessive eyes, the memory of pumping you full still burning between you. You lifted your chin, refusing to shrink under their combined gaze. “If you’re here to drag me out for another round, you’re going to have to do better than that. I’m not your toy to pass around whenever you get hard.”

That’s when Jungwon spoke, voice smooth but edged with command. “We’re not here to pass you around,” he said, stepping forward until he could brush a thumb over the bruise on your jaw. “We’re here to offer you something better. A pact. The four of us, a crew. You keep modding our cars, tuning them into monsters. We race as one unit. You ride with us as our good luck charm. In the garage… and everywhere else.”

Riki grinned, hungry. “We dominate the circuits together. No more solo bullshit. You get protection, money, power. And we get you.”

Sunoo’s fingers traced the hem of your tank top, teasing. “Whenever we want, however we want. But only if you say yes.”

You let the silence stretch, heart hammering, cunt already throbbing at the thought. Three of them. All at once. The idea should’ve terrified you. Instead, it made you feel dangerously alive. “I’m in,” you said finally, voice husky. “But on my terms. If we’re doing this, we do it right, no holding back. I want all of you.”

Riki’s eyes flashed with pure lust. “That’s our girl.” They didn’t waste another second. Jungwon lifted you onto the wide metal workbench like you weighed nothing, the cold surface biting into the backs of your thighs. Tools clattered to the floor as they stripped you bare in seconds, tank top ripped over your head, shorts yanked down your legs. You sat there completely naked under the harsh garage lights, legs spread, pussy glistening with fresh arousal.

“Fuck, look at her,” Riki groaned, palming his massive bulge. “Still leaking from the other night and already dripping for more. Greedy little cumslut.”

Sunoo moved first, stepping between your spread thighs and claiming your mouth in a deep, filthy kiss while his fingers slid through your folds, circling your swollen clit. “Such a pretty pussy. Already soaked just from us walking in. You were waiting for this, weren’t you, baby?”

You moaned into his mouth as two of his elegant fingers pushed inside you, curling perfectly against that sensitive spot. Jungwon appeared at your side, gripping your jaw and turning your head so he could kiss you next, possessive, dominant, tongue fucking your mouth while Sunoo finger-fucked you slow and deep. Riki didn’t wait. He climbed onto the workbench, kneeling beside your head, thick cock already out and heavy in his fist. “Open up, Y/N. Time to taste what you’ve been missing.”

You turned eagerly, lips parting as Riki fed you his cock. He was huge, stretching your mouth wide, the salty taste of him flooding your tongue as he pushed to the back of your throat. You gagged prettily, eyes watering, but sucked him harder, hollowing your cheeks.

“Shit— that’s it,” Riki hissed, fisting your hair. “Look at our little mechanic taking dick like a pro. Gonna turn this sharp mouth into our fucktoy.”

They rotated you between them like that for long, delicious minutes, passing your mouth from one cock to another while fingers and tongues worked your dripping cunt. Sunoo ate you out with obscene skill, pretty face buried between your thighs, moaning against your clit while Jungwon and Riki took turns fucking your throat.

Then the real fun began. Jungwon laid you back fully on the workbench, your head hanging off the edge. Riki stepped up and slid his thick cock back into your mouth, fucking your throat in shallow, controlled thrusts. At the same time, Jungwon gripped your hips, lined up, and slammed into your pussy in one brutal stroke.

You screamed around Riki’s cock, the sound muffled and wet. “Fuck yes,” Jungwon growled, hips snapping forward, pounding you with deep, possessive strokes. “This cunt is ours now. All three of us. Gonna stretch every hole until you can’t remember what it felt like to be empty.”

Sunoo climbed onto the bench beside you, stroking his pretty cock as he watched you get fucked. “Look at her. Taking two cocks at once like she was born for it. Our perfect little cumslut. You love this, don’t you, Y/N? Being used by all of us.”

You could only moan desperately, body rocking between them. The workbench creaked under the force of Jungwon’s thrusts. Riki’s balls slapped against your forehead as he used your throat. Pleasure bordered on overwhelming. They switched positions fluidly, never leaving you empty for long. Riki took your pussy next, feral and rough, folding your legs back as he railed you mercilessly. “This is what you get for making me wait, baby. This tight little hole is gonna be dripping our cum for days.”

Jungwon fed you his cock while Sunoo sucked marks into your tits, pinching your nipples until you whimpered. Then Sunoo slid into your mouth, fucking your face with controlled thrusts while praising you in that sweet, degrading voice. “That’s our good girl. Taking three cocks like a champion. Gonna fill you up until you’re leaking on every tool bench in this garage.” The dirty talk never stopped, vulgar, possessive, addictive.

“Gonna pass this pussy around every night after we win.”

“Turn the undefeated Ghost into our personal breeding whore.”

“Swallow my cock deeper, Y/N. Show us how much you love belonging to all three of us.”

You came hard the first time with Riki’s cock buried in your cunt and Jungwon’s down your throat, body convulsing, squirting around him as they held you through it. They didn’t let you rest. Jungwon pulled you up, him behind you, pounding your pussy with deep, breeding strokes while Sunoo fucked your mouth from the front. Riki stood beside you, feeding you his cock in turns, stroking himself when he wasn’t in your mouth, occasionally spitting on your tits for good measure.

“Say it,” Jungwon demanded, slapping your ass hard. “Tell us who you belong to while we fuck you stupid.”

You pulled off Sunoo’s cock long enough to gasp, voice broken and filthy, “All of you— fuck— I belong to all three of you. Your cumslut. Your holes. Use me—”

Riki groaned and came first, painting your tits and tongue with thick ropes of cum. Sunoo followed, pulling out at the last second to shoot across your pretty, flushed face. Jungwon was last, slamming deep and unloading inside you with a guttural moan, flooding your pussy until it overflowed and dripped down your thighs onto the workbench. You collapsed against the cool metal, covered in sweat and cum, body trembling with aftershocks, pussy clenching around nothing as their release leaked out of you.

The three of them stood around you, breathing hard, eyes dark with satisfaction and fresh hunger. Jungwon leaned down, brushing cum from your lip with his thumb and pushing it back into your mouth. “Welcome to the crew, baby.” Riki smirked. Sunoo pressed a surprisingly soft kiss to your forehead, then whispered against your skin, “Our perfect little good luck charm.”

You smiled through the mess, sore, claimed, and more alive than you’d ever been. The pact was sealed. And the night was still young.

The days blurred into a feverish, grease-stained haze of preparation. Your hidden garage had transformed into a war room. The air was thick with the scent of fresh welds, burning rubber from test tires, high-octane fuel, and the constant undercurrent of sweat and barely-contained lust. Three matte-black monsters now occupied the central bays alongside your Supra: Riki’s aggressive Evo, Sunoo’s widebody Porsche, and Jungwon’s GT-R. They looked like weapons forged for war.

You worked like a woman possessed.

From dawn until the early hours, you lived under the cars. Sleeves rolled up, tank top clinging to your sweat-slicked skin, shorts riding high as you bent over engine bays or crawled beneath chassis on a creeper. Sparks flew from your welder as you reinforced roll cages, upgraded turbo manifolds, and installed new ECU tunes that would push these machines well beyond factory limits. You added aggressive anti-lag systems, upgraded intercoolers, stiffer coilovers, and massive brake kits that could stop a bullet train. Custom limited-slip differentials. Bespoke exhausts that howled like demons when unleashed. Riki watched you the most hungrily. He’d hover nearby, shirtless, muscles flexing as he handed you tools, his eyes locked on the way your ass moved while you worked under the Evo.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he muttered one night, voice rough as he crouched beside you. “Seeing you like this, covered in grease, making my car meaner, gets me so fucking hard. You sure we don’t have time for a quick break on the hood?”

You slid out from under the car, face smudged with oil, and smirked up at him. “Focus, speed demon. You want to survive this hell race? Then stop thinking with your dick and help me torque these bolts.” But even as you said it, you let your hand brush deliberately over the growing bulge in his pants. Sunoo was more subtle, but no less dangerous. He’d sit on a nearby workbench, legs swinging, watching every precise movement of your hands with those sharp, pretty eyes. Sometimes he’d read out specs aloud, his voice like velvet, teasing you with double meanings.

“These new injectors are going to make her squirt power when you hit the nitrous,” he’d murmur, lips curved. “Just like you do when I have my tongue buried in that greedy little cunt.”

You’d throw a rag at his head, laughing, but your thighs would press together at the memory. Jungwon was the strategist. He coordinated everything, mapping the race route, studying rival crews, timing practice runs. But even he couldn’t keep his hands off you completely. Late at night, when the others were resting, he’d press you against the tool chest, kissing you slow and deep while his fingers slipped under your shorts to find you soaked.

“You’re the heart of this crew now,” he’d whisper against your lips, possessive as ever. “Our mechanic. Our good luck charm. Our filthy little secret. Don’t wear yourself out too much, baby. We need you strong for what’s coming.” The upcoming race was legendary, and lethal. A no-holds-barred, multi-stage inferno through the abandoned industrial district, old tunnels, and cliffside highways. Twenty of the most ruthless crews in the underground scene. Massive bets. Dirty tactics encouraged. Crashes were expected. Deaths had happened in past years. This wasn’t just racing. It was survival with engines.

So you pushed them harder. During the day, you ran them through brutal practice drills. They practiced reflexes on a makeshift course you’d set up using traffic cones, old tires, and sudden obstacles. You’d stand on the sidelines with a stopwatch and a megaphone, barking orders like a drill sergeant while dressed in nothing but oil-stained shorts and a cropped top.

“Again!” you’d shout as Riki drifted too wide. “You hesitate like that in the tunnels and you’re dead, Riki!”

“Sunoo, tighter apex! Stop showing off and drive like you want to win, not just look pretty!”

“Jungwon, you’re overthinking the line. Trust the car. Trust me.”

At night, the real filth returned. After long hours of wrenching, they’d reward you, and themselves, on the same workbench where they’d first claimed you as a crew. Sometimes it was quick and dirty: Riki bending you over the Supra’s hood while you were still holding a wrench. Sometimes it was slower, all three of them taking turns worshipping and ruining your sore, eager body until you were shaking and covered in their cum.

But the work never stopped. You barely slept. Your hands were raw, your back ached, but the fire in your blood burned hotter than ever. These weren’t just their cars anymore. They were extensions of the four of you, lethal, perfectly tuned weapons built by your hands and fueled by the raw chemistry between all of you.

One particularly long night, close to 3 a.m., you stood back and wiped sweat from your brow as the final mods were completed. All three cars gleamed under the lights, lowered, aggressive, and monstrous. Your Supra sat beside them like the queen of the pack.

The boys gathered around you, exhausted but wired, bodies glistening with sweat. Riki pulled you against his chest, strong arms wrapping around your waist. “You’re a fucking genius, Y/N.”

Sunoo stepped in from the side, pressing a kiss to your grease-streaked neck. “Our perfect little mechanic.”

Jungwon cupped your jaw, tilting your face up to meet his intense gaze. “This race is going to be hell. But with you… we’re going to burn the whole circuit down.”

You smiled, cocky and exhausted and exhilarated all at once, leaning into their combined heat.

“Then let’s make them regret ever thinking they could compete with us,” you said, voice low and dangerous.  The garage fell into a charged silence, broken only by the occasional tick of cooling engines and the distant crash of waves. Tomorrow night, the real war began. But tonight, the four of you stood together, bonded by speed, sin, and something far more addictive than just racing.

The Ghost had finally found her pack. And together, you were going to be fucking legendary.

The night of the big race arrived like a storm breaking over the underground. The industrial district had turned into a pulsing arena of headlights, roaring engines, and thousands in cash changing hands under flickering sodium lamps. Twenty crews. Brutal multi-stage course through abandoned tunnels, elevated highways, and the treacherous cliffside runs. Dirty moves were expected. The crowd was feral, betting heavy, eyes hungry for blood and glory.

Your crew showed up like kings. Four cars in perfect formation, your Supra leading, flanked by Riki’s Evo, Sunoo’s Porsche, and Jungwon’s GT-R. All of them snarling with the mods you’d bled for. You’d tuned them to perfection, and the boys drove like men possessed, trusting every upgrade your hands had built.

The race was hell. They fought tooth and nail, Riki diving into impossible gaps with feral precision, Sunoo slipping through traffic like smoke, Jungwon calling moves over the radio with ice-cold strategy. You held your own at the front, Ghost reborn as part of something bigger, blocking rivals and opening lines for your men. Crashes echoed behind you. Sirens wailed in the distance. One car went over the barrier in the final tunnel run. But you four crossed the finish line together, first, second, third, and fourth in a dominating sweep that left the entire scene stunned into silence for three full seconds before the explosion of cheers and curses.

The win hit like nitrous straight to the veins. Adrenaline surged through all of you, thick and intoxicating. Hearts pounding, bodies buzzing, cocks already hard from the sheer thrill of victory and dominance. The moment the cars rolled to a smoky stop in the victory lot, surrounded by rival crews packing up, bookies paying out, and onlookers still buzzing, the tension snapped.

Riki was on you first. He dragged you out of your Supra and slammed you against the warm hood of his Evo, right there in the open lot where at least thirty people were still milling around within viewing distance. The risk made it filthier. “Fuck, Y/N,” he growled against your neck, yanking the zipper of your racing suit down in one violent tug. “We just owned that entire circuit because of you. Now we’re claiming our prize.”

You barely had time to gasp before Sunoo was in front of you, pretty face flushed with victory, fingers threading through your hair as he pulled you into a deep, messy kiss. Jungwon moved behind you, pressing his hard body against your back, hands sliding inside your open suit to grope your tits roughly.

People were watching. Some turned away. Others stared openly. A few rival racers lingered by their cars, eyes wide at the bold display. The danger only made you wetter. They bent you over the hood of Riki’s Evo without ceremony. Your chest pressed against the warm, glossy metal, ass up, legs spread. Riki stood to the side, stroking his thick cock openly while Sunoo fed you his pretty dick right there under the flickering lights. “Open that cocky mouth, baby,” Sunoo murmured, voice sweet and filthy as he pushed past your lips. “Let them see how good our good luck charm takes dick after a win.”

You moaned around him, sucking eagerly as Jungwon shoved your suit down to your thighs, exposing your bare ass and dripping pussy to the night air. No panties. He’d made sure of that before the race.

“Look at this greedy cunt,” Jungwon growled, loud enough for nearby ears to catch. He rubbed his thick cock along your soaked folds, teasing. “Still sore from the other night and yet dripping like a whore for all three of us in public.”

He thrust in hard, burying himself to the hilt in one stroke. The force rocked you forward onto Sunoo’s cock, making you gag prettily. Jungwon set a brutal pace immediately, hips slamming against your ass with wet, obscene sounds that carried in the night air. His hand fisted your hair, keeping your head in place as Sunoo fucked your mouth in perfect rhythm.

Riki watched with dark, hungry eyes, occasionally reaching over to slap your ass or pinch your swinging tits while he stroked himself. “Fuck, she looks so good like this,” Riki groaned. “Bent over my hood, getting railed where everyone can see. Our perfect little team slut. This is what winning feels like.”

Jungwon fucked you like he was still racing, deep, aggressive, possessive. Every thrust pushed you further onto Sunoo’s cock, spit and precum dripping down your chin onto the hood. The risk of getting caught, of rival crews seeing the undefeated Ghost turned into a messy fucktoy for her team, sent you spiraling.

You came hard around Jungwon’s cock, moaning loudly around Sunoo, pussy clenching and gushing down your thighs. They didn’t stop. Sunoo pulled out of your mouth only to let Riki take a turn fucking your throat while Jungwon kept pounding your cunt. They rotated like that, switching between your mouth and pussy, using you right there against the car while distant voices and engine revs reminded you how exposed you were.

“Gonna fill you up again,” Jungwon panted, slamming deep. He came first, flooding your insides with thick, hot ropes. Riki followed, pulling out of your mouth to paint your tongue and tits. Sunoo took Jungwon’s place behind you and fucked you through the mess, adding his own load deep inside until it was leaking out around his cock in creamy rivulets.

By the end, you were a trembling, cum-covered wreck. They quickly zipped you back into your racing suit, but it was useless. Their combined cum was already dripping down your inner thighs, soaking the fabric from the inside. A visible wet patch started forming at the crotch as they helped you into your Supra. Riki smirked, kissing you hard. “Drive careful, baby. Wouldn’t want you making a mess all over your seat.”

Sunoo licked a stray drop of cum from your lip. “Our filthy good luck charm.” Jungwon gripped your jaw one last time, eyes burning. “We’re just getting started. This crew owns the night now.” Engines roared to life around you. You pulled out behind them, legs shaky, pussy still fluttering and leaking their cum steadily down your thighs inside the tight racing suit. The sensation was obscene, warm, sticky, constant, a filthy reminder with every shift of the pedals as you drove off into the night, victorious and utterly claimed. 

—

The roar of the crowd vibrated through the stands as Riki lined up for his solo race, a high-stakes tunnel sprint against some of the scene’s nastiest drivers. You sat wedged between Sunoo and Jungwon in the shadowed upper level, their bodies pressed close on either side of you, hands casually possessive on your thighs. Riki was off from the start. His Evo launched aggressively, but his lines were sloppy. He missed apexes he usually nailed blindfolded. In the final tunnel, he hesitated on a daring inside pass and got boxed out, finishing a humiliating third. The moment he crossed the line, you knew why.

His eyes found you in the crowd immediately, dark, burning, furious at himself. He’d been distracted. Thinking about you bent over his hood after the last win. About your mouth. About how your pussy clenched when you screamed their names. It cost him the race.

Back at the garage, the air was thick with tension the second the door slammed shut. Riki stormed in first, jaw clenched, still in his racing suit. “You,” he growled, pointing at you. “This is your fucking fault, Y/N. Couldn’t stop thinking about that tight little cunt the entire race.” Sunoo smirked, locking the roll-up door. “Then she needs to be punished, doesn’t she?”

Jungwon’s voice was calm but dripping with dark promise. “Strip her.” They didn’t give you time to protest, not that you wanted to. Your clothes were torn off in seconds. They bent you over the wide metal workbench again, wrists cuffed above your head to a hook they’d installed specifically for this. Your ass was presented perfectly, legs spread, pussy already glistening with traitorous arousal. Riki started. He brought his hand down hard on your ass, heavy, stinging spanks that echoed through the garage. Each slap made you jolt, the pain blooming into liquid heat between your thighs.

“Count them, baby,” he snarled, spanking you harder. “This is what happens when you distract me.” By the time he reached twenty, your ass was glowing red and you were dripping down your thighs. Sunoo stepped in next, elegant fingers tracing the heated skin before he slid a thick vibrating dildo deep into your soaked cunt. He turned it on high and held it there while Jungwon wrapped a hand lightly around your throat from the side, squeezing just enough to make your head spin.

“Such a greedy little distraction,” Sunoo cooed sweetly, fucking the toy in and out with cruel precision. “Look at you. Already clenching like a whore. How many times did you cum thinking about us while we were supposed to be focusing?” They rotated.

Jungwon took the toy from Sunoo and fucked you mercilessly with it, his free hand spanking your already bruised ass while Riki choked you lightly, whispering filthy praise and degradation into your ear. “You love this, don’t you? Being our little fucktoy we punish when you misbehave.” The first orgasm hit you fast and brutal. You squirted around the toy, soaking the workbench and your own thighs, crying out sharply.

They didn’t stop. Sunoo switched to a smaller, curved vibrator pressed hard against your clit while Jungwon kept the thick dildo pounding into you. Riki stood in front, feeding you his cock to muffle your screams. They competed openly. “Who can make her scream loudest?” Jungwon challenged, voice rough as he angled the toy to destroy your G-spot.

Sunoo smiled angelically, increasing the vibrations on your clit. “My turn to make our pretty mechanic cry.”

Riki fucked your throat deeper. “Scream for me, Y/N. Let the whole shipyard hear what a messy little cumslut you are.”

Orgasm after orgasm tore through you. They made you squirt again and again, messy, humiliating gushes that left puddles on the floor. Your legs shook violently. Tears streamed down your face from the overwhelming overstimulation, mascara running, lips swollen around whichever cock was using your mouth. By the fourth orgasm, you were sobbing, body convulsing uncontrollably. “Please— fuck— I can’t— too much—”

“You can,” Jungwon growled, spanking you hard while he drove the toy deeper. “You will. This is what you get for making Riki lose.” Riki took his final turn, replacing the toy with his thick cock and railing you from behind while Sunoo held the vibrator mercilessly against your clit. Jungwon choked you lightly, kissing you through the tears as you shattered again, squirting violently around Riki’s cock, screaming loud enough that it echoed off the walls.

Riki came deep inside you with a feral groan, pumping you full. Sunoo followed, painting your tits and face while you trembled. Jungwon finished last, making you ride his cock reverse cowgirl on the workbench, forcing one final, devastating orgasm out of your ruined body while he filled you too. You collapsed forward, covered in sweat, tears, and cum, ass cherry red, pussy swollen and leaking their loads in thick rivulets down your thighs.

Riki crouched beside you, brushing damp hair from your tear-streaked face with surprising tenderness. “Next time I race solo,” he murmured, voice dark but satisfied, “you better be in my fucking passenger seat where you belong.” Sunoo pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder. “Our perfect little distraction.” Jungwon smiled against your neck. “Good girl.”

You lay there spent, broken in the most exquisite way, already knowing you’d distract them again. Because this kind of punishment? You were already addicted to it.

The morning after they’d wrecked you with toys and overstimulation, you woke up sore, marked, and pissed in the best possible way. Your ass still burned from the heavy spanking. Your pussy was swollen and tender, thighs covered in faint bruises. But instead of curling up and submitting, the old Ghost re-emerged, cocky, vicious, and out for revenge.

They wanted to play punishment games? Fine. You’d play it better. You started slow. You walked into the garage wearing the tiniest pair of black shorts that barely covered the curve of your ass and a cropped tank top that clung to your tits, no bra. Your hair was messy, lips still slightly swollen from the night before, and the bruises they’d left on your body were proudly on display.

The three of them were already there, working on the cars. The moment they saw you, their eyes darkened with fresh hunger. But you didn’t give them what they wanted. All day long, you teased. First, Riki. He cornered you near his Evo while you were pretending to check the tire pressure, pressing his hard body against your back, thick bulge grinding against your ass.

“You’re still dripping my cum from last night, aren’t you?” he growled, hands gripping your hips. You spun around, pushed him back against the side of the car, and straddled one of his thick thighs. Slowly, deliberately, you rolled your hips, grinding your barely-covered pussy along the hard ridge of his cock through his pants. You made sure to press your tits against his chest, lips brushing his ear. “Mmm… feels like someone’s desperate,” you purred, voice dripping with arrogance. “Too bad you don’t get to fuck me today, baby. Not after the way you three treated me last night.”

You rocked harder, letting your wetness soak through the thin fabric of your shorts onto his thigh, then suddenly pulled away right when his hands tightened and his breathing turned ragged. Riki groaned, head falling back. “Y/N… you fucking tease—” You smirked, cocky and untouchable. “Should’ve thought about that before.”

With Sunoo, you were crueler. He was sitting on the workbench reviewing race data when you sauntered over and climbed straight into his lap, facing him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and started grinding down on his already rock-hard cock, rolling your hips in filthy, slow circles. Sunoo’s hands flew to your waist, breath hitching. “Fuck, baby… just let me slip it in. I’ll be gentle—”

You laughed softly against his mouth, biting his lower lip before pulling back. “Gentle? No chance, pretty boy.” You kept grinding, pressing your soaked core right against the throbbing length of him, letting him feel how wet you were through both your clothes. Every time his hips started bucking up desperately, you slowed down or stopped completely, edging him mercilessly while whispering in his ear. Sunoo’s usually sweet, teasing expression twisted into pure tortured lust. His fingers dug into your ass hard enough to bruise, but you only smiled and climbed off, leaving him panting and painfully hard.

Jungwon tried to play it strategic. He waited until you were bent over the hood of your Supra, then came up behind you, pressing his thick erection against your ass while his hand slid around to cup your throat lightly. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Y/N,” he murmured, voice low and commanding.

You pushed back against him, grinding your ass along his cock in long, deliberate strokes, arching your back like a cat in heat. “Am I?” you asked sweetly, looking over your shoulder with that signature cocky smirk. “Or are you just mad I’m finally the one in control?”

You kept rolling your hips, letting the head of his cock nudge right against your clothed entrance again and again, teasing him with the promise of sinking inside. Every time he tried to pull your shorts aside, you slapped his hand away and ground harder, faster, until his breathing turned ragged and his grip on your throat tightened with frustration. Then you stepped away completely, leaving him cursing under his breath, cock straining obscenely against his pants.

All day it went on like that. You’d brush against them “accidentally,” press your tits against their arms while handing them tools, whisper filthy reminders of how good their cocks felt while deliberately denying them. You’d grind on Riki while he was under a car, ride Sunoo’s thigh while pretending to check specs on a laptop, and edge Jungwon against every available surface. By late evening, they were feral. Riki was pacing like a caged animal, constantly adjusting his painfully hard cock. Sunoo’s pretty face was flushed, eyes dark with restrained violence. Even Jungwon, usually the most composed, had a dangerous glint in his eyes, jaw clenched so tight it looked painful.

You stood in the middle of the garage, arms crossed under your chest, pushing your tits up on purpose, looking every inch the untouchable Ghost again. “Something wrong, boys?” you asked innocently, though your voice dripped with smug satisfaction. “You all look… frustrated.” Riki stepped forward first, voice rough. “Y/N. You’re pushing it.”

You tilted your head, smiling sweetly. “Good.” The power felt delicious. 

The same night crackled with a different kind of danger. After an entire day of your merciless edging, the boys were driven insane, bodies wound tight, cocks still aching, minds half on the track and half buried between your thighs. The frustration only made them sharper. Hungrier. Meaner. Word had spread fast through the underground: a once-in-a-decade race. Three rival crews versus your trio. The prize pot was absolutely out of a fever dream, eight stolen luxury cars plus over two million in dirty cash stacked in black duffels. Winner takes all. Losers walk away with nothing… or worse. You were not on the track tonight. You’d made that clear with a cocky little smirk as they suited up.

“You three can suffer a little longer,” you’d purred, leaning against the Supra in tiny shorts, arms crossed under your chest. “Win this race and maybe, I’ll let you fuck the attitude out of me.”That promise had lit a fire under them.

The starting line stretched across an abandoned freight yard that fed straight into the old industrial tunnels. Hundreds of spectators lined the barriers. Neon lights flickered. Bookies screamed odds. The air reeked of gasoline, weed, and raw testosterone. Your three cars sat at the front like predators: Riki’s slammed Evo, Sunoo’s aggressive Porsche, and Jungwon’s matte-black GT-R. Engines idling with menacing rumbles. Riki’s hands flexed on the wheel, jaw tight. “I’m still so fucking hard it hurts,” he muttered over the radio.

Sunoo’s soft laugh crackled back. “Blame our pretty little brat.”

Jungwon’s voice cut through, calm but edged with steel. “Focus. We win this, then we go home and ruin her until she can’t walk.” The flag dropped. Chaos exploded instantly. The first straight was pure war. Rivals tried to box them in, bumping aggressively. Riki dove into a gap so tight his mirrors scraped concrete, snarling as he forced a rival into the wall with a sickening crunch of metal. Sparks flew like fireworks.

Sunoo was a white swan in motion, slipping through traffic like liquid, using every dirty trick you’d taught him. He feinted left, then cut right, sending another car spinning into a barrier. His Porsche danced on the edge of control, widebody kissing the tunnel walls. Jungwon played the long game, hanging back just enough to read the chaos before striking. He was the anchor, calling moves with ice-cold precision while his GT-R devoured straights like a demon.

The course turned hellish. They blasted into the long abandoned subway tunnels, pitch black except for headlights and emergency strobes. One rival tried to run Sunoo into a pillar. Sunoo countered by tapping his rear bumper at 140 mph, sending the car into a violent spin that took out two others in a chain-reaction crash. The explosion of metal and glass lit up the tunnel behind them. “Clear,” Sunoo reported, breathing hard.

Riki was losing his mind with adrenaline and sexual frustration. On a sweeping elevated highway section, drifting through a corner so aggressively his Evo nearly rolled. He clipped a rival’s bumper on purpose, sending them flying over the guardrail and into the dark ravine below. The final leg was the cliffside death run, narrow roads hugging jagged drops, wind howling off the ocean. Here, the remaining rivals threw everything at them: side-swipes, brake checks, even throwing glass bottles onto the road.

Jungwon took a brutal hit to his rear quarter, the GT-R fishtailing dangerously close to the edge. For one terrifying second, two wheels hung over nothing but black sea and rocks. “Won—!” you screamed into the radio from the observation point above, heart in your throat. He recovered with terrifying skill, counter-steering perfectly. “Still here, baby.” That near-miss only fueled them.

In the last mile, the three of them formed a perfect arrow, Riki leading, Sunoo and Jungwon guarding his flanks. They crossed the finish line almost simultaneously, sweeping the podium in a dominant, brutal display that left the crowd roaring and the rival crews stunned into silence. They’d won. The stolen cars and duffels of cash were theirs. But the real prize was waiting back at the garage.

The drive back was torture. All three cars pulled into the shipyard in formation, engines screaming victory. The moment they killed the ignitions, the boys exploded out of their cars, eyes wild, bodies still vibrating with race adrenaline and a full day of your cruel teasing. You were waiting in the center of the garage, arms crossed, that signature cocky smirk on your lips. “Congratulations, boys. Looks like you—” Riki didn’t let you finish. He stormed forward, grabbed you by the throat, and slammed you against the side of his still-ticking Evo. His mouth crashed into yours in a violent, starving kiss. “You think you can edge us for twelve fucking hours and then stand there looking smug?” he snarled against your lips.

Sunoo appeared on your other side, pretty face dark with promise. “We’re going to make you regret every single thing, baby.” Jungwon stepped in last, gripping your jaw and forcing you to look at him. “Time’s up, Y/N.”

Hands tore at your tiny shorts and crop top until the fabric was in shreds on the concrete floor. “You’ve been a fucking brat all day,” Riki snarled against your lips, biting down hard on your lower lip until you tasted blood. “Grinding on our cocks like a cocktease and thinking you could walk away?”

They carried you to the wide central workbench and threw you down on your back. Within seconds you were completely naked, legs spread obscenely wide. Jungwon gripped your throat, squeezing just enough to make your vision spark as he leaned over you. “Open that pretty mouth.”

Sunoo was already there, pretty cock hard and leaking as he fed it straight down your throat in one smooth thrust. You gagged loudly, eyes watering instantly as he started fucking your face with deep, controlled strokes. “Fuck… that throat feels even better when you’ve been teasing us all day,” Sunoo groaned, voice sweet and filthy. He held your head in place, hips snapping forward until your nose pressed against his pelvis.

At the same time, Riki and Jungwon positioned themselves between your spread thighs. Riki spat directly onto your already soaked pussy, rubbing the thick head of his massive cock against your entrance while Jungwon did the same, pressing right beside him. “You’re gonna take both of us in this greedy cunt tonight,” Jungwon said, voice low and commanding. 

They pushed in together. The stretch was brutal, burning, overwhelming. You screamed around Sunoo’s cock as both thick cocks forced their way inside you at once, inch by inch, stretching you to your absolute limit. The obscene pressure made your eyes roll back, tears spilling down your cheeks.

“Fuuuuck— so goddamn tight,” Riki growled, eyes locked on where both you holes were stretched around both of their cocks. “Look at her taking two dicks like a champ. This is what you get for edging us, baby.”

They started moving, alternating thrusts at first, then finding a devastating rhythm together. The workbench creaked violently beneath you as they fucked you stupid, pounding deep into your cunt while Sunoo continued throat-fucking you without mercy. The wet sounds skin smacking and and gagging throat filled the entire garage. You came hard within minutes, violently, squirting around their cocks as your body convulsed. They didn’t slow down. “Again,” Jungwon demanded, spanking your clit hard while they railed you. “Cum on our cocks like the messy little whore you are.”

Sunoo knelt in front of you, gripping your hair and forcing his cock back down your throat. The three of them used you mercilessly. Riki and Jungwon fucked you in perfect sync, stretching you beyond reason, their balls slapping wetly against you. Jungwon reached around to rub your swollen clit while Riki sucked marks into your bouncing tits. Sunoo fucked your throat until drool and precum ran down your chin in thick strings, dripping onto your tits.

Riki panted, voice wrecked. “Gonna fill this slutty cunt until it’s overflowing.” The orgasms kept coming. You came again, soaking Riki’s abs and the workbench. Your screams were muffled around Sunoo’s cock as wave after wave of devastating pleasure tore through your overstimulated body. They started rotating. Sunoo pulled out of your throat only to let Riki take your mouth while Jungwon kept destroying your pussy. Then Jungwon switched to your throat, feeding you his cock covered in your own juices while Riki and Sunoo double-penetrated you again. The taste of yourself mixed with their precum made you moan like a broken whore. 

Riki came first, pulling out of your pussy and painting your face with thick ropes of cum. Sunoo followed, pulling out of your mouth and adding to the mess, covering your flushed cheeks, lips, and tongue. Jungwon kept fucking you through it, then finally buried himself deep and unloaded straight into your womb. They didn’t stop.

By the end, you were a complete wreck. Lying on the workbench, covered head to toe in sweat and semen. Thick loads dripped from your swollen pussy onto the floor. Your face was painted white, cum leaking from the corners of your mouth. Your tits were marked with handprints and bite marks. Your voice was hoarse from screaming. Riki crouched beside you, gently brushing cum-soaked hair from your face while Jungwon pressed soft kisses to your trembling thighs.

Sunoo smiled that angelic, wicked smile and leaned down to kiss your cum-stained lips. “Look at our strong, cocky Ghost,” he whispered. You could barely move, body twitching with aftershocks, pussy still clenching around nothing as more cum slowly leaked out of you. But even through the exhaustion, a weak, satisfied smirk tugged at your swollen lips. “Worth it,” you rasped. 

The tension in the garage had been simmering for days. You were bent over the hood of a sleek, silver Mercedes-AMG GT that belonged to Kai, a quiet but skilled solo racer who’d paid you a small fortune for emergency mods before the next big tunnel run. Your hands were deep in the engine bay, tightening a new intercooler setup, when the roll-up door slammed open hard enough to rattle the walls.

All three of them walked in. Riki first, eyes immediately narrowing at the sight of you working intimately on another man’s car. Sunoo followed, his usual angelic smirk gone flat. Jungwon brought up the rear, jaw locked so tight the muscle ticked. Kai, smart man that he was, muttered a quick thanks and disappeared the second he felt the shift in the air.

You straightened up, wiping grease on your shorts, and raised an eyebrow. “Problem?”

Riki was on you in three strides. He spun you around, pressing your back against the Mercedes’ hood, and crashed his mouth onto yours in a deep, possessive kiss that stole the air from your lungs. His hands gripped your waist hard, fingers digging in like he could brand you through skin and bone.

“You let him bring his car here?” he growled against your lips before kissing you again, harder, tongue sliding against yours like he was trying to erase any trace of another man’s presence. “You had your hands all over his engine while we were waiting for you?”

Sunoo stepped in beside you, turning your face toward him the second Riki pulled back for air. His kiss was slower but no less intense, deep, claiming, one hand cupping your jaw while the other fisted the front of your tank top.

“You’re ours, Y/N,” Sunoo whispered hotly against your mouth, voice uncharacteristically rough. “Not some hired wrench for every pretty boy with money. I can’t fucking stand seeing you bent over another man’s car like that.”

Jungwon was last. He pulled you away from the Mercedes entirely, backing you up against the tool chest instead. His kiss was raw, almost angry, full of weeks of building emotion. When he finally broke away, forehead pressed to yours, his voice cracked with something real.

“I hate it,” he admitted, breathing hard. “I hate seeing you give even a second of your time to someone else. We’ve been trying to keep this casual, but… I can’t anymore. The thought of you with anyone who isn’t us makes me want to burn this entire shipyard down.”

The confession hung heavy in the air. You looked between them, Riki pacing like a caged animal, Sunoo watching you with dark, vulnerable eyes, Jungwon’s usual composure completely shattered. “I’m not going anywhere,” you said quietly, reaching up to touch Jungwon’s cheek. “But you three don’t own every second of my life.”

“That’s the problem,” Riki muttered, stepping close again. He kissed you once more, softer this time but still desperate. “I don’t want to share you with the rest of this fucking world, Y/N. Not even for money. Not even for an hour.” Sunoo pressed in from the other side, kissing the corner of your mouth, then your jaw, then the sensitive spot under your ear. “You’re more than our mechanic now. More than our good luck charm. You’re… ours. And it’s starting to feel like something I can’t lose.”

The moment stretched, thick with new, terrifying tenderness beneath all the possessiveness. Later that night, the feelings boiled over on the road. It was supposed to be a standard tunnel run, your crew running escort for a big payout. But the cops had been tipped off. Halfway through the long industrial tunnel, blue and red lights exploded behind you, sirens screaming.

“Scatter!” Jungwon barked over the radio.

The chase was vicious. Riki drifted through a narrow gap between concrete pillars at terrifying speed, barely missing a patrol car trying to cut him off. Sunoo used his Porsche’s agility to slip through an exit ramp at the last second. You stayed glued to Jungwon’s GT-R, pushing your Supra to its absolute limit as two cruisers closed in. A near-miss nearly ended everything.

One cop car tried to PIT you on a sharp curve. Jungwon swerved at the last second, forcing you to brake hard and slide between them in a hail of sparks and screaming metal. Your heart hammered so violently you thought it might burst. For one sickening second, you saw the headlines, the Ghost finally crashing out. You all made it out. Barely. Back at the garage, the adrenaline crash hit hard.

The second the doors were down, Jungwon yanked you out of your Supra and pinned you against it, kissing you like he’d almost lost you forever. Riki and Sunoo joined immediately, surrounding you in a tangle of desperate mouths and gripping hands.

“I can’t do this,” Jungwon rasped between kisses, voice raw with emotion. “I can’t keep pretending this is just racing and fucking. When I saw that cop almost take you out tonight… I’ve never been that scared in my life.”

Riki’s hand slid into your hair, tilting your head so he could kiss you deeply, almost angrily. “You’re under our skin, Y/N. All the way. I lose focus every time you’re not right there with me. And seeing you mod that asshole’s car earlier? I wanted to drag you away and remind you exactly who you belong to.”

Sunoo kissed you slower, but his hands trembled slightly against your waist. “We’re falling for you. All three of us. And it’s making us stupid. Jealous as hell. But I don’t want to stop.”

You stood there between them, heart racing for an entirely different reason now. The Ghost, undefeated, untouchable, felt her walls cracking under the weight of three pairs of eyes that looked at her like she was the only thing that mattered in their chaotic world. “I’m scared too,” you admitted quietly, voice thick. “This stopped being just fun a long time ago.” Jungwon rested his forehead against yours, breathing you in. Riki pressed a surprisingly gentle kiss to your temple. Sunoo nuzzled into your neck, arms wrapped tightly around your waist.

The morning after the confessions came slow and golden.

Sunlight filtered weakly through the high warehouse windows of the loft above the garage, painting long, dusty beams across the wide bed you all shared. The air still carried the faint scent of engine oil, sea salt, and last night’s adrenaline. You woke up tangled between them, Riki’s heavy arm slung possessively over your waist, Sunoo curled against your back with his face buried in your neck, and Jungwon lying on his side in front of you, watching you with quiet, unguarded eyes.

For once, there was no rush. No race looming in the next few hours. No engines screaming. Just the four of you, breathing in the same quiet rhythm. Jungwon reached out first, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw with a gentleness that still surprised you from the usually composed leader. His thumb brushed your lower lip, eyes soft in the morning light.

“Morning, baby,” he murmured, voice rough with sleep but warm like melted honey. He leaned in and kissed you, slow, lingering, no heat of possession this time, just pure, aching affection. The kind of kiss that said he’d been lying awake thinking about you for hours. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours. “You scared the hell out of me yesterday. I keep seeing that cop car trying to take you out… and all I could think was I can’t lose you.”

You smiled softly, your hand coming up to rest against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. “I’m right here, Won. Not going anywhere.” Behind you, Sunoo stirred, pressing a trail of lazy, open-mouthed kisses along your bare shoulder. His arm tightened around your middle, pulling you back flush against his warm chest.

“Mmm… my favorite way to wake up,” he whispered, voice still drowsy and sweet. “Our pretty girl between us.” He nuzzled into your hair, inhaling deeply like he needed your scent to ground him. “You make everything feel… right. Even when the world outside is trying to burn us down.”

Riki, ever the restless one, tightened his grip on your waist and buried his face in the crook of your neck, kissing the sensitive skin there with surprising tenderness. His usual feral energy was quiet this morning, replaced by something deeper, almost vulnerable.

“You know I’m shit at this soft stuff,” he mumbled against your skin, voice low and rough. “But fuck, Y/N… waking up and knowing you’re ours? That you chose us? It messes me up in the best way.” He pressed another slow kiss right below your ear, then another on your jaw, taking his time like he wanted to memorize every inch of you. “I don’t care about the cars or the money anymore. I just want you here. Safe. With us.”

You let yourself sink into them, surrounded by their warmth, their scents, their quiet love. For the first time in years, the undefeated Ghost didn’t feel like she had to run or fight. She just… existed. Cherished. The morning unfolded lazily. Jungwon eventually slipped out of bed and returned with coffee, black for you, exactly how you liked it, and a plate of fruit he’d cut up himself. He fed you bites of sweet mango between soft kisses, his free hand gently massaging the tension from your shoulders.

Sunoo pulled you into the shower with him later, but there was nothing rushed about it. He washed your hair with careful fingers, massaging your scalp until you were nearly purring. He kissed every bruise and mark they’d left on your body, not with hunger, but with quiet reverence, whispering against your wet skin how beautiful you were, how strong, how irreplaceable.

Riki was the most surprising. He cooked, or at least tried to, burning the edges of the eggs but plating them with a proud little grin when you laughed at the mess. He kept pulling you onto his lap while you all ate together at the small table in the loft, one big hand rubbing slow circles on your thigh, the other feeding you bites from his own plate.

“I like you here,” he said quietly, eyes locked on yours. “Just… us.” By late afternoon, the four of you ended up back in bed, a tangled pile of limbs and quiet affection. You lay on your back with your head in Jungwon’s lap while he played with your hair. Sunoo rested his head on your stomach, tracing lazy patterns on your skin. Riki had his face pressed against your ribs, one arm thrown over your thighs. None of you spoke for a long time. The silence was comfortable, heavy with new emotions that felt too big for words.

“I never thought I’d have this,” you admitted eventually, voice barely above a whisper. “I was always alone. But with you three… I don’t feel alone anymore. I feel seen. Wanted. Loved, even when you’re being jealous assholes about it.” Jungwon’s fingers paused in your hair. He leaned down and kissed your forehead, lingering there. “You are loved, Y/N. More than you know. I’m not good at saying it, but… you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to us. To me.”

Sunoo lifted his head, eyes sparkling with rare vulnerability as he kissed the center of your chest, right over your heart. “You make me want to be better. Softer. Even when I want to keep you locked away from the rest of the world.”

Riki pushed himself up slightly, cupping your face with one big hand. His thumb stroked your cheek as he looked at you with raw intensity. “I’d burn every rival car, every cop, every fucking thing that tries to take you from us. But I’d also give it all up if you asked me to. That’s how much you mean to me now.” You felt your eyes sting with unexpected tears. Not from sadness, from the overwhelming warmth of being so completely, fiercely cherished. You pulled them closer, one by one, kissing each of them slowly and deeply, pouring every unspoken feeling into the press of your lips. They held you tighter, their hands gentle, their breaths mingling with yours in the quiet loft.

The underground world outside kept spinning, races, danger, dirty money, and rivals. But up here, in this stolen moment, there was only love. Messy, jealous, protective, all-consuming love. You were sinking into it, slow and deep, letting yourself be utterly, beautifully wrapped up in the three men who had claimed far more than just your body. They had your heart now too.

—

Six months later, the shipyard garage had changed.

What was once just a hidden den of midnight mods and stolen moments had slowly become something closer to a home. The loft upstairs now held four toothbrushes in the bathroom, your racing suits hanging beside theirs in the reinforced closet, and a bigger bed they’d dragged in after too many nights of tangled limbs and not enough space. There were plants Sunoo insisted on keeping alive on the windowsill, a ridiculous number of Riki’s protein shakes in the fridge, and Jungwon’s carefully organized race notebooks stacked on the desk.

You stood on the upper catwalk overlooking the garage floor, watching them.

Riki was under his Evo again, tools clanging as he fine-tuned the suspension you’d redesigned last week. Grease streaked his arms and cheek. Sunoo leaned against the Porsche, laughing at something Riki said while polishing the widebody with slow, elegant strokes. Jungwon stood a little apart, arms crossed, reviewing the new route maps you’d marked up together the night before.

They looked like home. But the underground never let you forget what it was. Tonight was another high-stakes run, bigger money, dirtier players, the kind of race where people still disappeared. The danger hadn’t vanished. If anything, it had grown sharper now that the four of you were something real. The jealousy still flared hot and sudden. The possessiveness still left bruises and desperate kisses against cold metal. The sex was still filthy, raw, and frequent, sometimes sweet and slow in the early mornings, sometimes all three of them wrecking you until you cried and begged on the same workbench where it all began.

Nothing had been sanitized. You were still the Ghost. They were still the ruthless trio that made the night circuits tremble. You still modded cars for cash when the mood struck. They still raced like devils and fucked you like they were terrified of losing you. But something deeper had taken root.

Jungwon looked up first, sensing your gaze. His sharp eyes softened the moment they found you. He climbed the metal stairs two at a time and pulled you into his arms without a word, burying his face in your hair. “You’re thinking too loud again,” he murmured against your temple. You smiled, wrapping your arms around his waist. “Just wondering how the hell we got here. From fucking in my backseat to… this.”

Riki and Sunoo joined you moments later, surrounding you in that familiar wall of warmth and muscle. Riki pressed against your back, arms locking around your middle. Sunoo slipped in beside Jungwon, catching your hand and pressing a slow kiss to your knuckles.

“We’re building something real,” Sunoo said quietly, his usual teasing tone replaced by something gentler, almost reverent. “Doesn’t mean we’re leaving the life behind. I don’t think any of us could. But we’re doing it together now. No more running solo. No more pretending this is temporary.”

Riki’s grip tightened, his voice low and rough against your ear. “I still get jealous as fuck when you work on other cars. Still want to drag you away and remind you who you belong to every single day. But I also want to wake up next to you every morning. Want to keep you safe. Want… a future. With you in it.”

Jungwon pulled back just enough to look at you, his thumb brushing your cheek. “We’re talking about buying the whole shipyard. Making it legitimate on paper, a real performance garage. We keep racing underground because it’s in our blood. We keep loving you the way we do because we don’t know how to do it softly. But we’re also building something that lasts. Something that’s ours.”

You felt your throat tighten with emotion. The Ghost who once thrived on solitude and speed now found herself completely, helplessly in love with three dangerous, complicated men who had cracked her open and decided to stay.

“I’m terrified,” you whispered, honest and raw. “I’ve never had anything real before. But I want it. With all of you. The filth. The danger. The quiet mornings. All of it.”

Riki kissed the side of your neck, slow and tender. Sunoo leaned in to capture your lips in a deep, lingering kiss that tasted like promise. Jungwon waited his turn, then kissed you like he was sealing a vow. The four of you stood there on the catwalk for a long time, wrapped around each other as the sun dipped lower and the garage lights flickered on one by one. Outside, the underground waited, screaming engines, dirty money, rival threats, and the ever-present risk of everything burning down.

Inside, something beautiful and messy and real was taking shape. You were still the Ghost. But now you had a pack. And together, no matter how dark or filthy or dangerous the road ahead became, you would face it as one. The night called. You answered, four hearts beating in sync, four shadows merging into something unbreakable. And for the first time, the future didn’t feel like something to outrun. It felt like something worth racing toward.

ㅤㅤhit that bell notif! YEOKII DAY NATIONAL HOLIDAY I LOVE TODAY

i love u essiecake essietiramisu u my real day zero and my fave niche unc i love listening to u yap ab ur ideas and also yap in general and ily for always listening to My yaps too we go yap4yap !! i hope 18 treats u well lovely i kiss u lots and lots MUAH >3< !! peep the slight jiwon & dohyeok (best ship) (but essie x yin better) + minkyung from iseop + mana as ningning (brazil soon) + me as yuha (#Lol) + haerin (best girl) cameos +++ (also heeseung doesn't have a pfp on purpose he's just too nonchalant) @yeokii x

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His girlfriend was the light of his entire world. It was as if you were the sun and he were your Earth. His world revolved around you at all times, you made him feel like the happiest man alive. Even Jake had to admit it sounded like something straight out of a cheesy 90s rom-com, where the guy was voicing out his internal monologue.

A main character who was loved? Checked. A main character who was also in love? Check. And his girlfriend was the definition of perfect in his eyes? Check. Jake was utterly, hopelessly in love with you, and he would gladly embrace that fact until he died. Now now now, Jake could technically defend himself and say that it wasn’t just him who had said you were literally perfect, it was countless others too!  

He wasn’t the only one who wanted you either, he had caught his own best friend, Heeseung, staring at you multiple times, his eyes clouded with lust. And when Heeseung turned around and caught Jake’s eyes, knowing Jake had seen him ogling at his own girlfriend like she was the last piece of cake at a birthday party, he would just raise one hand in a form of greeting, a fire dancing in his eyes.

And that may have turned Jake on more than anything. One day, he was going to let something slip. One day, Heeseung was going to smile at you like that again and Jake was going to completely forget how to act normal. Jake gave himself three months before he ruined his own life.

He was crawling to his own doom harboring this little secret. It was a ticking time bomb. A prime example of this being now, Jake’s heart hammered against his ribs like it was trying to escape the guilt clawing at his chest. The room was dim, only the soft blue glow of his laptop screen cutting through the darkness. He was supposed to be practicing vocals or answering fan messages, anything but this. Yet here he was, headphones clamped over his ears, laptop propped up on his desk at the perfect angle, the video playing on loop.

On the screen, one lucky girl was getting absolutely railed by two guys. Their hands were everywhere, gripping her hips, squeezing her tits, one of them thrusting deep into her while the other fed his cock between her eager lips. Wet sounds filled his ears, mixed with her muffled moans. Jake’s hand was wrapped tight around his own cock, jerking furiously, thumb swiping over the leaking tip with every upward stroke. His breath came out in short, ragged gasps. Sweat beaded on his forehead.

“Fuck…” he whispered, eyes glued to the way they manhandled her, how she took them both so greedily. The fantasy hit him like a freight train, the same one that always crept in when he was alone. He didn’t want to share you. Not ever. You were his, his sunshine, his everything, the girl who made him laugh until his stomach hurt and kissed him like he was the only man in the world. The thought of another guy actually touching you in real life made his blood boil with possessive jealousy.

But god… the thought of watching?

His grip tightened, fist flying faster along his shaft as the video showed one of the guys flipping the girl onto her back and sliding back inside her while the other knelt beside her face. Jake’s mind betrayed him instantly. He pictured you instead, spread out so pretty on their bed, cheeks flushed, eyes glassy with pleasure. Another man’s hands on your thighs, spreading you open. Another man’s cock pushing into that tight, perfect heat that belonged to him. You’d look up at Jake the whole time, lips parted, moaning his name like a plea while someone else fucked you senseless.

“Shit—baby…” Jake groaned under his breath, hips bucking up into his fist. The fantasy was filthy and wrong and so fucking hot it made his head spin. He didn’t want to lose you. He wanted to keep you safe in his arms, cherished and loved like the princess you were. But the image of you getting used by someone else while he watched, stroking himself just like this, made his balls draw up tight.

His strokes grew erratic, slick sounds echoing quietly in his room as pre-cum dripped over his knuckles. On screen the girl was crying out, sandwiched between the two men, and Jake imagined your voice doing the same, whimpering, begging, taking everything they gave you while he sat in the corner, cock throbbing in his hand, completely lost in how beautiful you looked falling apart.

He was so close. So fucking close. His free hand gripped the edge of the desk, knuckles white. Just as the pressure coiled unbearably tight at the base of his spine, the worst possible sound cut through his headphones. The soft click of the bedroom door opening. Jake froze mid-stroke, eyes wide in pure panic as he looked up.

There you stood in the doorway, holding the takeout bags he’d forgotten about, your expression shifting from cheerful surprise to something unreadable as your gaze flicked from his flushed face… down to his hand still wrapped around his very hard cock… and then to the explicit threesome still playing loudly on his laptop screen.

His death, it turned out, wasn’t a metaphor after all.

Jake slammed his laptop shut so fast the screen nearly cracked, the wet moans cutting off mid-thrust. “Wait, baby! I can explain—” he blurted, voice cracking.

He yanked his pants up in a frantic scramble, nearly tripping over his own feet as he crossed the room in three long strides. His hands landed on your shoulders, warm and slightly shaky, and he pulled you in, pressing a desperate kiss to your temple like he was trying to anchor himself before you vanished.

You were already biting your lip hard, shoulders trembling as you fought back giggles. The takeout bags were still dangling from your fingers, forgotten.

“Aww, Jakey…” you managed, voice sweet and teasing, “I didn’t know you were nasty like that.”

Jake’s face burned crimson. He was still panting, chest heaving, cock still half-hard and straining against the hastily pulled-up sweatpants. “Fuck, I— I didn’t want you to find out like this,” he groaned, forehead dropping to rest against yours. “I just… I’ve always had this fantasy. A threesome. Not, not sharing you for real in a way that I’d lose you. I could never do that. But the thought of watching someone else touch you… fuck you while I watch… it drives me insane, baby. I feel so guilty every time it gets in my head, but I can’t stop thinking about it.”

You let out a soft, amused huff and gently pushed at his chest, guiding him backwards toward the bed. He let you steer him until the backs of his knees hit the mattress and he sat down heavily. You settled right beside him, close enough that your thigh pressed against his.

“Then what’s stopping you?” you asked, tilting your head with an innocent little smile that didn’t match the spark in your eyes.

Jake froze completely, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. “Wait… baby, seriously?”

“Yes, Jakey,” you said softly, reaching up to brush a strand of hair off his damp forehead. “Who do you have in mind?”

He gulped hard, Adam’s apple bobbing visibly. His cheeks were still flushed dark, breath uneven as he stared at you like you’d just offered him the moon and stars wrapped in a bow. “Well…” he started, voice low and husky, almost shy. His hand found yours, fingers lacing together tightly. “I’ve noticed Heeseung… eye-fucking you quite a few times, darling. The way he looks at you when he thinks no one’s paying attention. Like he wants to devour you.”

Jake’s grip on your hand tightened, his other hand sliding up your thigh. You hummed absentmindedly, you would have been lying if you said you hadn’t noticed Heeseung before either. He always had his eyes trailing down your body whenever you, Jake and his friends were there. And you would also be lying if you denied the fact that you wouldn’t like Heeseung touching you either. Because the truth was, Heeseung was an attractive man, far too attractive for his own good, and he certainly knew he was handsome, that man was the devil in disguise. 

A slow, mischievous smile spread across your lips as you looked at Jake. “Then let’s make it happen, Jakey.”

His eyes widened, a mix of shock, nerves, and raw arousal flashing across his flushed face. “You’re… you’re really okay with this?”

“More than okay,” you whispered, leaning in to brush your lips against his. “But we do it smart. No rushing. We set the scene.”

You two spent the next few minutes huddled together on the bed, voices low and excited, plotting like teenagers with a filthy secret. The plan was simple but perfect: you’d text Heeseung later saying you needed help with the kitchen sink, it was “suddenly not draining properly” and you didn’t know what to do. Jake would conveniently be “out” for a few hours. You’d call Heeseung, all sweet and helpless, asking if he could come over because “Jakey isn’t home and I just don’t know how to fix it, Hee. Please?”

Jake’s cock twitched visibly in his sweatpants just from talking it through. He kissed you hard, almost desperate, muttering against your mouth how much he loved you, how insane this was, how he couldn’t believe you were really doing this for him, for both of you.

An hour later, you were ready. You’d changed into your tiniest white tank top, the thin fabric clinging to your breasts with no bra underneath, your nipples faintly visible through the material. Paired with the shortest cotton shorts you owned, the ones that barely covered the bottom curve of your ass, riding up every time you moved. Your hair was slightly messy, lips glossy, and you looked every bit the tempting little housewife in distress.

You stood in the kitchen, phone in hand, heart racing with anticipation. After sending Jake a quick text confirming he was “out,” you dialed Heeseung.

He picked up on the second ring. “Hey… Hee?” you said, voice soft and a little pouty. “I’m so sorry to bother you, but the kitchen sink is acting up really bad. It’s not draining at all and water’s everywhere. Jakey isn’t home and I have no idea what to do. Could you please come over? I’d really appreciate it…”

Heeseung’s deep voice came through the line, calm but with a hint of something unreadable. “Yeah, of course. I’ll be there in ten.”

True to his word, Heeseung showed up in under ten minutes. The doorbell rang and you took a slow breath, smirking internally as a thrill shot through your body.

This is really happening. I’m about to get fucked by two of the hottest men I know.

You opened the door, and there he was, Heeseung, tall and broad-shouldered in a simple black t-shirt and gray sweats, hair slightly tousled like he’d run his fingers through it on the way over. His eyes immediately dropped, raking over your body in one long, shameless sweep. From your bare legs, up to the tiny shorts hugging your hips, then higher to where your tank top stretched across your chest. He didn’t even try to hide it. His gaze darkened, jaw tightening for a split second before he forced a casual smile. “Hey,” he said, voice low and smooth, stepping inside. “Sink trouble, huh?”

“Yeah…” You closed the door behind him, biting your lip innocently. “It’s such a mess. I didn’t want to call a plumber this late.”

Heeseung nodded, but his eyes kept drifting, fucking you with just a look. They lingered on the way your nipples poked against the thin fabric, then slid down to the exposed skin of your thighs. He cleared his throat, trying to sound normal as he followed you into the kitchen.

“Show me what’s going on.”

You bent over the sink a little more than necessary, reaching under it to point at the pipes, knowing full well how the shorts rode up, revealing the soft underside of your ass. Heeseung stood right behind you, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from his body. His stare burned into you, slow, heavy, hungry. You could practically feel him imagining bending you over this very counter.

“Looks like it might be a clog,” he muttered, voice a little rougher now. His hand brushed your lower back as he leaned in to inspect, the touch lingering a second too long. “You tried plunging it yet?”

“I did, but it didn’t help,” you replied sweetly, glancing back at him over your shoulder. His eyes were locked on your ass, dark and intense, before he quickly looked up to meet your gaze. The tension in the kitchen was suffocating, thick, filthy, unspoken. Heeseung’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, and your pulse raced.

He tried to keep the conversation casual, asking about how long it had been happening, if Jake had looked at it before, but every sentence was undercut by the way his gaze kept dropping to your tits, your legs, the way you shifted your weight and let your shorts ride even higher. His breathing was deeper, controlled, but the bulge growing in his sweats wasn’t so subtle anymore.

You straightened up slowly, turning to face him, standing just a little too close. Heeseung didn’t step back. His eyes bored into yours, then flicked down to your mouth, then lower again, drinking in every inch of exposed skin like he was starving. The air crackled. You could feel it, the moment right before everything would change. And internally, you were glowing with wicked excitement.

This is going to be the best fuck of my life.

You kept a hand on his bicep, feeling the hard muscle tense under your fingers as you inched closer, deliberately pressing your body against his. Your breasts brushed his chest through the thin tank top, and you shifted your hips just enough until you felt the unmistakable, thick bulge of his cock pressing right against your lower belly. He was rock hard already.

“Heeseung…” you whispered, voice sweet and breathy, lips barely an inch from his ear, “you seem so tense. What’s up?”

Heeseung closed his eyes for a long moment, jaw clenched so tight you could see the muscle ticking. His hands hovered at your waist like he was fighting every instinct not to grab you. Then, with a low, strained groan, he pushed you back slightly, just enough to create a sliver of space between your bodies, but not nearly enough to hide how much he wanted you.

“You’re Jake’s girlfriend,” he rasped, voice rough and dark, eyes still burning as they dropped to your lips, then your barely-covered tits. “I can’t betray him like that. Fuck, I shouldn’t even be looking at you like this.”

A soft, amused smile played on your lips. You didn’t move away. Instead, you let your fingers trail lightly down his arm, feeling the heat rolling off him in waves. “But he wants it too,” you said softly, almost teasingly.

Heeseung’s brows furrowed in confusion, but before he could respond, you called out gently toward the hallway. “Jakey… you can come out now.” There was a beat of silence, then the soft sound of footsteps. Jake emerged from the bedroom, still in his gray sweatpants, cheeks flushed and eyes dark with arousal. He looked between the two of you, at how close you were standing to Heeseung, at the obvious bulge in his friend’s sweats, at the way your tiny outfit left almost nothing to the imagination.

Heeseung stiffened, taking another half-step back, guilt flashing across his face. “Jake… what the fuck is going on?”

Jake swallowed hard, running a hand through his hair as he walked over. He stopped beside you, one arm sliding possessively around your waist, pulling you gently against his side. His voice was low, a little shy but steady. “I’ve wanted this for a long time,” Jake admitted, glancing at you with pure adoration before looking back at Heeseung. “The three of us. I know it sounds crazy, but… I’ve been fantasizing about it for months. Watching you with her. Seeing someone else touch her, fuck her, while I’m right there. I trust you. And she wants it too. We both do.”

Heeseung stared at him, completely stunned, chest rising and falling faster. His eyes flicked back to you, slow, heavy, dripping with barely-contained lust. He drank in the sight of your hard nipples pressing against the thin white fabric, the way your tiny shorts had ridden up your thighs, the slight sheen of excitement already visible on your skin. It was relentless now, like he was seconds away from devouring you whole.

“You’re serious?” Heeseung’s voice was hoarse, almost disbelieving, but the way his cock twitched visibly in his sweats betrayed him. “You actually want me to… with your girlfriend?”

Jake nodded, his hand squeezing your waist tighter. “Yeah. I do. If you’re down.”

The kitchen felt like it was on fire. Heeseung’s gaze dragged over your body again, slower this time, openly filthy, lingering on your lips, your tits, the apex of your thighs like he was already imagining exactly how he was going to ruin you. The tension was thick enough to choke on, heavy with promise and raw, dirty need. Heeseung let out a shaky breath, eyes finally locking onto yours with pure, unfiltered hunger. “Fuck… okay.”

Heeseung didn’t need to be told twice. The second the word “okay” left his mouth, he surged forward, one large hand cupping the back of your neck as his lips crashed into yours. The kiss was hungry, almost desperate, nothing like Jake’s usual sweet affection. Heeseung kissed like he wanted to consume you, tongue sliding against yours with filthy intent. A low groan rumbled from his chest as he tasted you. Jake stood just a few feet away, eyes dark and wide, breathing heavily as he watched his best friend devour his girlfriend’s mouth. His hand unconsciously palmed the obvious bulge in his sweatpants.

Heeseung’s other hand wasted no time slipping under the hem of your tiny tank top, rough palm gliding up your stomach until he cupped one of your breasts. His thumb brushed over your already hard nipple, pinching and rolling it between his fingers. You moaned into his mouth, the sound high and needy. “Fuck, you’re so soft,” Heeseung muttered against your lips before kissing you harder.

He suddenly gripped your waist and lifted you effortlessly, turning and caging you against the kitchen counter. Your ass pressed against the cool edge as he pushed between your legs, grinding his hard cock against your barely-covered core. His mouth left yours only to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck.

You gasped when he yanked your tank top up, exposing your breasts completely. Heeseung’s eyes darkened with raw lust as he stared for half a second before leaning down and sucking one nipple into his mouth, tongue swirling, teeth grazing just enough to make your back arch.

“Ah— Heeseung…” you moaned shamelessly, one hand flying to fist tightly in his dark hair, holding him against your chest. Your eyes found Jake’s across the kitchen. He looked completely wrecked, pupils blown, lips parted, chest heaving as he watched Heeseung suck and lick at your tits like a man starved. The sight of your boyfriend so turned on by watching only made you wetter.

You wrapped your legs around Heeseung’s waist, pulling him closer, grinding against the thick ridge of his cock through his sweats. Another loud, shameless moan spilled from your lips as he switched to your other breast, sucking harder, his free hand kneading the one he’d just left. Jake finally moved, closing the distance in two strides. He cupped your face and captured your lips in a deep, possessive kiss, swallowing every moan Heeseung pulled from you. When he pulled back, his voice was raspy and low, thick with arousal.

“Bedroom. Now,” Jake rasped, eyes flicking between you and Heeseung. “Take her to the bedroom.” Heeseung released your nipple with a wet pop, lips shiny and swollen. He looked at Jake for a moment, breathing hard, then back at you, his gaze pure sin as he took in your flushed face, messy hair, and glistening, spit-slicked tits. Without a word, Heeseung hooked his hands under your ass, lifting you properly. Your legs stayed locked around his waist as he carried you down the hallway toward the bedroom, Jake following close behind, eyes never leaving the way your body moved against Heeseung’s.

Heeseung kicked the bedroom door open with his foot, the sound echoing through the apartment like a starting gun. Without breaking stride, he carried you straight to the bed and dropped you onto the mattress. You bounced once, breath catching in your throat as you looked up at the two men now hovering over you — tall, flushed, and radiating pure hunger.

Their hands were on you immediately.

Jake grabbed the hem of your tiny tank top and yanked it up and off, while Heeseung hooked his fingers into your shorts and panties, dragging them down your legs in one rough motion. You lifted your hips to help, already soaked and aching. In seconds you were completely naked beneath them, skin prickling under their heated stares.

They stripped themselves just as fast. Shirts tossed aside, sweatpants shoved down. Two hard, beautiful cocks sprang free — Jake’s familiar and leaking, Heeseung’s thicker and slightly longer, the tip already glistening.

For a brief second, Jake and Heeseung panted heavily, eyes locking. A silent, charged moment passed between them — something raw and unspoken — before Heeseung’s gaze slowly dragged down Jake’s body once, taking in his toned frame and throbbing cock. Then, just as quickly, his dark eyes returned to you, burning with filthy intent.

“Fuck… look at her,” Heeseung muttered, voice low and rough.

He wrapped a hand around his thick cock and gave it a few slow, firm strokes, his abs flexing with each movement. Then he leaned over you, knees pressing into the mattress between your spread thighs. He rubbed the swollen, leaking tip of his cock up and down your slick folds, coating himself in your wetness, teasing your clit with every pass.

You whimpered, hips twitching desperately toward him.

At the same time, Jake crawled up the bed to your side, positioning himself near your head. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a deep, messy kiss, tongue sliding against yours as his hand gripped his own cock, stroking himself slowly while he watched Heeseung tease your dripping pussy.

“You okay, baby?” Jake whispered hotly against your mouth between kisses, his voice shaky with arousal. “Tell us what you want.”

Heeseung’s tip nudged against your entrance, pressing just slightly, making your back arch off the bed as another needy moan spilled from your lips into Jake’s mouth.

“I want both of you,” you gasped against Jake’s lips, voice trembling with need. “Please— I need you both right now.” That was all it took. Heeseung groaned deeply, lined himself up, and slammed into you in one powerful stroke, bottoming out completely. The sudden stretch made you cry out around Jake’s cock as he guided the leaking tip past your lips at the exact same moment.

“Fuck— so tight,” Heeseung growled, eyes rolling back for a second as your walls clenched around his thick length. “She’s sucking me in so fucking good, Jake.”

Jake let out a shaky moan, hips pushing forward as he fed more of his cock into your warm, eager mouth. “That’s it, baby… take us. You look so fucking pretty like this.”

They found their rhythm almost instantly, Heeseung fucking you with deep, steady thrusts that rocked your entire body, while Jake fucked your mouth in perfect sync, his hand gently cradling the back of your head. Heeseung’s hands gripped your thighs, spreading you wider as he drove into you harder. “God, your pussy is perfect. So wet for us already. You love getting fucked by two cocks, don’t you?”

You moaned loudly around Jake’s shaft, the vibrations making him curse and thrust a little deeper. Jake stroked your cheek with his thumb, eyes dark with lust as he watched your lips stretch around him. “Such a good girl… taking him so well. You’re doing so fucking amazing, baby. My perfect girl.”

Heeseung leaned down, sucking one of your bouncing tits into his mouth while pounding into you, his hips snapping relentlessly. “She’s clenching so hard around me. Fuck, Jake, she gets tighter every time you call her a good girl.”

The filthy praise and the feeling of being completely filled from both ends had your head spinning in pleasure. Heeseung’s cock dragged against that perfect spot inside you with every thrust, while Jake’s familiar taste and the way he shallowly fucked your throat made your eyes water with overwhelming sensation.

Jake’s breathing grew ragged, his thrusts getting sloppier as he chased his release. He looked down at you with pure adoration and raw lust. “Gonna cum down your throat, baby,” he rasped, voice hoarse. “Want you to swallow every drop like the good girl you are.”

He turned his head to Heeseung, eyes blazing. “Pull out Heeseung. She’s still my girl.” Heeseung let out a dark, strained chuckle, fucking you even harder for a few more punishing strokes before he obeyed. He pulled out with a wet sound, stroking his glistening cock furiously as he knelt beside you.

Jake pushed deep into your throat one last time and came with a broken moan, thick ropes of cum spilling down your throat as you swallowed around him eagerly. “Fuck— yes, baby… just like that.”

At the same time, Heeseung groaned loudly, his cock twitching as he painted your stomach and tits with hot, heavy streaks of cum, marking your skin while Jake finished in your mouth. Both of them were panting hard, eyes locked on your flushed, cum-covered body with pure satisfaction.

Jake pulled his cock from your mouth with a wet pop, a string of saliva and cum connecting your swollen lips to his tip for a second before it broke. You were still panting, chest heaving and glistening with Heeseung’s release, when Jake moved down your body with clear intent.

“My turn, baby,” he murmured, voice thick with possessiveness.

Heeseung shifted to the side, kneeling beside you on the bed. His dark eyes stayed glued to your body, one hand lazily stroking his still-hard cock as he watched. The hunger in his gaze didn’t fade, if anything, it burned hotter now that he was forced to observe.

Jake settled between your spread thighs, pushing them wider apart. He rubbed his cock against your soaked, puffy folds, coating himself in your slick mixed with Heeseung’s earlier efforts.

“Look at you… so fucking messy already,” Jake groaned, eyes flicking up to meet yours. “But you’re still mine.” He pushed in slowly at first, savoring every inch, then sank all the way to the hilt in one smooth thrust. You moaned loudly, back arching off the bed at the familiar stretch. Jake’s cock felt perfect inside you, hot, throbbing, and relentless as he started fucking you with deep, claiming strokes.

“Fuck, she looks so good,” Heeseung rasped, his voice low and rough as he watched intently. His eyes tracked every bounce of your tits, the way your pussy stretched around Jake’s cock, and the slick sounds filling the room. 

Jake’s hips snapped harder, one hand gripping your waist while the other kneaded your cum-covered breast. “That’s right, baby. This pussy belongs to me. Even when he fucks it… it’s still mine.”

He leaned down, kissing you messily, tasting himself on your tongue as he drove into you faster. The wet slap of skin against skin grew louder. Heeseung’s heavy breathing mixed with yours and Jake’s, the tension in the room still electric as he continued stroking himself to the sight.

“You’re taking me so well,” Jake praised against your lips, voice breaking into a moan. “So fucking tight and wet… gonna fill you up, okay? Want you dripping with me.”

You nodded desperately, nails digging into his back as pleasure coiled tight in your belly. Jake’s pace turned punishing, hips slamming against yours until he buried himself deep and came with a broken groan, thick ropes of cum flooding your pussy.

“Fuck— take it all, baby… that’s my good girl.”

He stayed inside you for a few long moments, panting against your neck, before slowly pulling out. A thick trickle of his cum leaked from your used hole. Without hesitation, Jake moved lower, spreading your thighs even wider. Heeseung’s eyes darkened further as he watched Jake lean in and drag his tongue through your folds, licking up his own release mixed with your wetness in long, filthy strokes. Jake moaned softly against your pussy, cleaning you thoroughly with his mouth while his hands held you open.

“So fucking pretty when you’re full of me,” Jake whispered, sucking gently on your clit before licking deeper. “My perfect girl.”

And one thing was certain. This may have been exactly like the plot of a 90s porno movie. But Jake’s secret was also yours now. And Heeseung’s. And it would stay that way. Because this certainly wasn't the last time Heeseung would be coming over. If anything, it was only the beginning

(Masterlist)

taglist , ( comment / send ask to be added ) @sevvycoer @en-dream @stxr-lilac @prodpyojihoon @2166v @cokewithcameron @poutybzby @ges1ca @wouldiuuu @megamatt43 @pixlluv @tibibibi123 @aphantassia @riddlesonlywife @lowkhyeon @fvrgetmenot @taelvvrzz @lettheleavesflow @lunaryoongie @luvpadron @wwoonniiee @decadentcollectionpersona @meeoowchi @strxrrymarsz @snghynn @schlondpoofa15 @d3nj1-k0n @aale60 @meiisamotherbitch @crescentmoonnn @coershyy @hironosushiis @xeiramz @snowflakemoon3 @evaflms @fawnyboibeauty @lovemashu @anonymouslyethereal @lanasturnsnoopy @peptobi-smol @chaorik1i @rumidemon @ijtopsecret @sunoosun00 @pinklemonade34 @jjura @sleepymochiiii