"What's up? You seem…"

Under Sunghoon's watchful gaze, heaviness doesn't deter the antsy drum of your fingernails into the kitchen marble counter. Piercing skin into the flesh of your bottom lip, you've been watching him for the better part of the last five minutes. Eyes following the space Sunghoon's frame takes up of the room, presence imposing to the abandonment of your dimmed laptop. He's opted for a sleeveless shirt this time, jacked arms on full display with arm sleeves so loose, they expose pale slivers of skin marked in moon crescents of the very nails you gnaw on, consumed by nothing but the mundane. Observing your boyfriend make his protein shake, giving the bottle forceful shakes to mix its contents and your insides, engorged veins running his arms with the flex of his arms, his Adam's apple bobbing as he washes it down. You don't miss a second of it, not the dart of his tongue as he licks the edge of his lips of its reminiscent, tears nearly brought to your eyes as you stifle a pathetic whimper. 

You should be used to it. The gymrat lifestyle your boyfriend's devoted himself to, the one you've reaped the benefits of and yet, here you are, shuffling in your seat because the sweats against your body are suffocating, skin simmering beneath the material while your boyfriend looks at you. Knowing, a sharp edge to the soft smile he gives, edged canine peeking out.

If only he knew you wanted it to sink into your skin. 

"On edge." 

A natural pause allows you to collect some semblance of composure, closed lids with a chest-emptying sigh before you look up again, sternness cemented into the knit of your eyebrows. Fingernails slowing their rhythm, only accentuating every point leaving your mouth.

"Don't tire yourself out," you say, head cocked to the side. "You've got work to do when you're back."

Amusement pulls his smile wider, inches his eyebrow up too. "Is that so?"

"Yeah."

You shift again, laboured chest rising and falling, uncomfortable with actions so blatantly obvious in his eyes. Must be why brightness streaks in them as he slugs his gym bag over his shoulder, his answer clear as day. "You go ahead and stretch,"

His hand lowers his hat, an overcast in his darkened eyes. "You'll need it."

And he leaves. Half hard through his grey sweats with the ticking time-bomb that is you. 

Which is how you find yourself here, folded into his personal origami as his arms pin your legs to your ears, pounding into you without any regard. 

"Didn't you want this, baby?" Sunghoon coos, ragged chuckle ringing in your ears. "So incessant on me fucking you but look at you now - can barely get a word out." 

You gargle on some stupid retort, the sound choked in the saliva pooled in your mouth, lips parted to chase the breaths he won't let you catch. Muscles cry in fatigue, in no way helped by the advice you followed through with by stretching, nails left to weak scratches against Sunghoon's forearms as the leverage of the leaned back couch beneath him allow him to knock deepest in you.

"You sat here waiting for me, making a mess of your flimsy underwear ── didn't even let me get through the door to beg for my cock. Is that what you are, angel?" Your head lolls back, swarmed with syrupy thoughts as he fucks up into you, hitting your sweet spot over and over again. "Some muscle obsessed cocksleeve? Something for me to fuck and use any way I want?"

Energy summons itself to nod your head, agreement sounding amidst the wet squelch of your cunt splashed back onto yours and Sunghoon's thighs. "I am, I am──ngh!" 

His laugh's rich in your ear, cock pulsing in your walls refusing to let him go, body curling into itself to feel him press further in you, a groaned whimper leaving your kissed-red lips. "Well, aren't you a pleasure to use." 

Your nails drag again, streaking into his skin with no remorse, a sick turn of your stomach calling for scattered words. "Hoon, I─fuck, I'm gonna come again."

"Already? I've barely fucked you, baby," his reply comes with a sloppy few thrust, hitched momentum in the desperate squeeze of your cunt. "Isn't this what you were on your knees for? Nosing along my balls like some dumb puppy," 

"You smelled good," you whine, slap of your ass echoing against his flexed thighs, him holding you like you're nothing. "Feel good too, fuck."

"Got a pervert for a girlfriend. I can't be surprised," he grunts, notching himself deeper to the knock of air out your lungs, strained and desperate for life. "Go on, since you're so easy. Come."

As much control as Sunghoon has over the body he sculpts in the gym, he has the same over your own, unearthing the orgasm ripping through you at his command. A scream unleashes the rawness of your vocal chords, dying into sob-like whimpers as moisture clump your lashes together, body bucking erratically in a hold Sunghoon doesn't so much as flinch at, keeping you pinned and in place, fucking you through your orgasm.

Hazy at best is how your consciousness prevails, a mirage of the warm lights of your living room, afternoon sunglow pouring through in the windows you didn't think to shield with curtains, one-track minded when you heard the lock turning at Sunghoon's arrival. 

The arctic cold of the floor straightens your spine, figure having been moved to hunch over the poor coffee table you served tea and cake to friends not even a day ago, now being defiled as your body slumps over it, hands splayed against the shiny oakwood. In the echo chamber of your breath, your ass lifts as the drag of Sunghoon's tip collecting the slick smeared between your folds, electricity lighting your spine. 

"Mind if I fuck you more, baby?" he asks, voice dripping with the sweet condescending nature you latch onto, pleased moan feeding his ego. "I'll even get my arm around you, just how you like." 

That grabs your attention. Instills life into your tired body with arms that reach back, back arched with fingers spreading yourself for his taking. "Please, Hoonie. I need it, I need it so bad."

"Want my arm around you, hm angel?" his teasing knows no end, cock drenched in your slick as all he does is run his length between your folds, tip nudging into your hole to chip away at your soul just a bit more. "Wanna get pumped full of my come?"

Your breasts peel off the coffee table with an insignificant burn, body squirming as your hips try backing into him. "Want it, Hoon. It's all I want,"

"I'll be good," you slur, cheek pressed into the table, frustration keeping your lashes moisturised. "You know I'm good for it." 

"God, you're sin," his patience reaches its limit, tip breaching further into your cunt welcoming him in. "Since you're so good ─ take it." 

No time is spared for a response, his girthy length sliding into the mess of come coating your walls, the glide and stretch of him filling you bringing incoherent expressions of gratitude out your running mouth as he sets his punishing rhythm. Folding over to press against your back, he plasters himself to you like you're one, body lifting as his large arm hooks underneath your chin, locked in by the cross of his wrists as he fucks you with no escape. 

It's the highlight of every life you've lived, a single high curling your toes and engulfing your senses and half-baked thoughts in all Sunghoon. He's so close like this, a waft of sandalwood and cinnamon embracing you in a familiar hug, hard ridges of his body sticking to yours with leftover sweat from the gym and now, his favourite cardio ─ stuffing you full of his cock with every bit of joy you voice.

Pleasure sings in every cell of your body, on cloud nine, aided by the restricted airflow given by the unforgiving cram of his arm, sandwiched in between his hard bicep and forearm if you weren't so out of it, your teeth would make a home in. 

"Think you're coherent enough to rub your clit for me or you just gonna come for taking my cock?" he muses, breath fanning over the shell of your ear. "Talk to me, princess."

Your hand shakes on the table, wanting to move but too far gone to. "I can't─I can't move." 

"Oh my greedy girl, I'll give it to you. Just keep squeezing me like that," his wrist separates from the other, leaning your body towards its side to keep you in a chokehold while his hand ventures between your thighs, already shaking from the heavy thrusts, only to collect slick and rub your clit. You howl in his hold, overstimulation bucking your poor body that begged for this, the simultaneous feel of his cock and fingers sending you to the edge. "Fuck, you're gonna be dripping with my come if you keep doing that."

"I'm close," you whimper, lips quivering with the anticipation building in your stomach, warm and rearranged by his thrusts. "Give me your come ─ pleaseeee," 

"How can I say no when you're so sweet for me?" You hear him smile, feel the press of his lips against your sweat-layered temple before he starts rutting into you, pulling you into him as he chases his high. In the desperate pursuit, his fingers rub your clit faster, unearthing high-pitched moans vibrating off his skin as your cunt weeps around him, walls holding onto him for dear life. "You go first, needy girl. Come for me, you've got it."

And you do, so desperately moulded to his whims your body gives in, starlight streaking across your eyes as you come. Beyond the incessant slap of his hips against your skin, all you hear is the rush of your blood flooding through you, so weak to the explosive burst of euphoria your body operates on instinct, teeth sinking into the flesh of Sunghoon's arm, earning you a grunt. 

"God, you're milking me, princess," he moans, words wobbled at their end. "Gonna give it to you - thank me like a good girl."

The 'thank yous' topple out your mouth like a mantra, plentiful and so true to their word, it pushes Sunghoon deep into your sweet spot, flooding your walls with hot come you push out, clenching in a frenzy as Sunghoon pulls out, watching your body shake in his aftermath. 

"My sweet girl," you hear in the distance of your comedown, shoulder blades pressed in an adoring kiss. "Nothing beats you." 

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The September air was still thick with the residual heat of summer but the breeze cutting through the quad was already carrying the first sharp hint of the ice that would soon define your semester. Two weeks into freshman year and the campus already felt smaller than the brochures had promised. In all honesty you felt suffocated by the weight of a legacy neither you nor Zoya could escape.

Zoya walked beside you, constantly twisting her fingers in the strap of her bag. "I haven't slept in like three days," she admitted in a strained voice. "Tryouts are next week and I swear I can feel my heart in my throat every time I see a pair of skates."

"Zoya, breathe," you said. "You've been training for this since we were six. You're more prepared than anyone else in that rink. Stop stressing."

Your friendship with Zoya was a constant bond forged long before you understood what a legacy even meant. Your mothers had met in the very halls of this university, dressed in the same blue and white uniforms you were now expected to fill. You had spent your childhood in the back of dance studios and cold arena bleachers, two shadows following the footsteps of women who had once been part of the university's most celebrated icons.

"I don't know how you're so calm," she glanced at you. "If I don't make the cut, my mom might actually disown me. Your mom isn't exactly going to be thrilled if you aren't on that roster, either."

You shrugged, feeling like the weight of the expectation had just become a dull ache you'd simply learned to live with. "I'm sure she'll manage. Besides, it's just a team. There are more important things than whether or not we look good in sequins and skates."

"Easy for you to say," she muttered as you both found a stone table in the quad, sitting next to each other while the noise of the campus humming around you. "They only take five girls each year. Five."

"Because they have to maintain the twenty girl balance, Zoy," you countered, squinting against the sun. "Five seniors graduated so they need five new freshman and you can only try out in your first year. It's simple math, not a conspiracy. It's no biggie."

Zoya went quiet then, her expression shifting from nervous to something more focused. She leaned into your space and dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper that forced you to pay attention.

"Have you heard the gist lately? In the dorms?" she asked. "It's not just about who's the best skater anymore. Everyone is talking about the tradition. The real one."

You felt an internal groan. "That rumor? Again?"

"They say the hockey team picks one girl from the five new recruits," she said with her eyes wide and dead serious. "One girl who has to give it up at the tryouts welcome party. That it's a requirement. A gangbang for the guys who run the rink."

You rolled your eyes and let a sharp, dismissive sound escape your throat. "Zoya, please. That is the most tired, misogynistic urban legend on this campus. It's locker room bullshit meant to scare us or make the guys feel like they have more power than they actually do. It's just a rumor. Stop letting it get in your head."

"Like for fucks sake. Am I meant to be excited at the thought of a bunch of guys fucking me?"

But Zoya didn't back down, if anything she just leaned into closer, darting her eyes around as if the very trees were wired. "I'm serious! It's not just some ghost story, I'm telling you. My roommate's cousin's TA has a niece who was the girl they picked last year."

You stopped mid sip of your drink and lowered it to look at her with mocking disappointment. You let the silence hang for a beat too long just so she could sit with what she just said, then you started repeating her words back to her, dripping your voice with deliberate sarcasm.

"So...let me get this straight," you began ticking the points off on your fingers. "Your roommate's...cousin's...TA's...niece?" You asked her and watched her resolve start to crumble at the corners of her mouth as the absurdity of the so called source finally hit the air.

"When you put it like that, it sounds—"

"It sounds like a game of telephone or Chinese whisper played by people who have spent way too much time inhaling zamboni fumes," you finished for her.

She let out a frustrated whine while reaching to grab your shoulders. "Shut up! You're so mean!" she laughed and started to shake you back and forth. Her grip was firm as she swung your body in rhythm with her protests. "Take me seriously! I'm trying to prepare us for potentially having to take dick!"

The physical drama of it was too much to resist, you really tried to keep your face stoic but the sight of Zoya looking so genuinely panicked over a fourth hand story about a TA's niece broke you. A bubble of laughter escaped and soon you were both giggling like the kids you used to be.

The week of tryouts had been a blur of synthetic light and the rhythmic scrape of steel on ice. For Zoya, it was a slow motion descent into madness, she was a whirlwind of nervous energy in the locker room, retying her laces until her fingertips were raw and changing her skates three separate times because she convinced herself the blades weren’t right. You had watched her from the bench, already laced up and ready, trying to offer a calm anchor in her storm of superstition.

When your turn finally came, you didn't really overthink it. You moved through the routines you'd practiced since you were tall enough to reach the rink boards, you remembered all the crossovers, the synchronized lunges, the power pulls. It was muscle memory at this point or a birthright clicking into place. To you, it wasn't a performance—it was more of another day at the office.

Now, a week later, the tension had migrated from the ice to the stifling atmosphere of Zoya's dorm room. You were sitting criss cross on her bed while your phones sat like two ticking time bombs on the mattress between you.

"I think I'm going to throw up," Zoya whispered, staring at the dark screens. "If I don't see an email in the next sixty seconds, I'm dropping out of college and moving to a farm."

"You hate dirt, Zoy. You'd last barely an hour," you muttered, trying to be calm even though your own pulse was beginning to thrum against your ribs.

Suddenly, both screens lit up simultaneously and two identical notifications from the university athletics department banner appeared.

Zoya shrieked, launching herself off the bed as if she'd been electrocuted. She paced the small rug with her hands over her mouth. "Oh my god. Oh my god. Okay. Okay, don't open it yet. We do this together."

You picked up your phone, your hands shaking but still steadier than hers and stood to meet her in the center of the room. "On three?"

"On three," she breathed as her finger hovered over the screen.

"One."

"Two."

"Three!"

The light of the screens reflected in your eyes as you both scanned the text.

"We are pleased to inform you that you have been selected for the 2026 Ice Girls roster..."

"WE GOT IN!" Zoya screamed, the words overlapping with your own as you read the confirmation out loud. She tackled you back onto the bed, you didn't even get through the second sentence before the room exploded. You hit the mattress with a thud as her weight pinned you down, her face buried in your shoulder as she vibrated with pure, unadulterated adrenaline.

"We did it! We actually did it!" she shrieked into your ear, her joy was infectious enough to finally break through your cool exterior and you couldn't help it. It was like the tension of the last week finally evaporated into a fit of breathless giggles. You lay there on the bed, tangled in limbs and phones, laughing up at the ceiling while Zoya squeezed the life out of you. And for that one moment, the weight of your mother's expectations and the dark whispers of campus rumors felt miles away—eclipsed by the simple reality that you were officially in.

The calm excitement of the afternoon was short lived though, quickly replaced by hurricane Zoya in a state of social crisis. Your dorm room looked like a textile factory had exploded, there were clothes draped over your desk lamp and jeans strewn across your bed as she dove head first into your closet for the third time in twenty minutes. "The welcome party isn't just a party, Y/N," she muffled from behind a row of your hangers, her voice strained with the familiar, high pitched anxiety that always made you want to both hug her and laugh at her. "It's like a hierarchy. The hockey team is going to be there and the resident ice girls will be judging our every move. We can't just show up looking like we're headed to a late night study session in the library!"

You laid there on your bed, watching her with an amused tilt of your head. Zoya was always a perpetual mess of nerves, she was a beautiful disaster but you loved her to death for it. Her intensity was the only thing that could actually make you feel the weight of whatever was ahead.

"Have you actually seen the hockey team in person? Like up close?" she continued, finally surfacing with a grunt of frustration. "They’re not a human, they’re like filtered ai images come to life. And don't even get me started on Heeseung—the captain. If I have to stand next to him, I refuse to do it in a crewneck sweatshirt." She tossed one of your favorite oversized hoodies onto the floor with a look of annoyance. "Seriously? You have nothing sexy in here. It's all...functional."

"I was just going to go in what I have on now," you said, gesturing to your simple jeans and tee.

Zoya let out a gasp of such genuine horror you thought she'd actually been wounded. "No way, Y/N! You are not going to embarrass us! This is our debut!"

Before you could protest, she lunged for the overstuffed duffle bag she'd lugged over all the way from her own dorm and with a dramatic flourish, she hoisted it over both your heads and dumped the entire contents onto your bed. A mountain of lace, silk and leather tumbled out in a heap.

"Pick," she commanded, pointing at the pile with a manic twitch in her eye. "Pick right now or so help me God, I will pick for you and I promise you it will involve something tiny."

Giving in to the inevitable, you sighed and reached blindly into the middle of the mountain. Your fingers snagged onto the strap of a dress, so you pulled it out—a short, form fitting black dress with delicate straps and a neckline that was definitely lower than anything you owned.

Zoya's eyes went wide and her frantic energy instantly shifted into a predatory sort of pride. "Ooh...okay, okay! That one is hot," she purred, clapping her hands together. "The I don't care but I look incredible look. It's perfect. Go. Put it on. Eeek! I can’t wait, Y/N!"

You’re not surprised the party ends up being a far cry from the chaotic, floor shaking rages you'd been attending in the freshman dorms. This was something different, it was controlled and suffocatingly exclusive.

You let your eyes scan the room as you hoisted yourself up onto the kitchen island, slowly realizing the rumors about the inner circle weren't exaggerated. There were exactly twenty two hockey players and the twenty ice girls, including the five of you who had just been initiated. The air felt heavy with a specific kind of social politics you weren't sure you wanted to play. Zoya, however, was of course a natural and about twenty minutes ago, a guy with a sharp jawline and an observant gaze called Jungwon had detached himself from a group of upperclassmen and navigated the crowded living room with a focused sort of grace, landing right in front of Zoya.

"Was it a requirement for this year’s ice girls to be extra gorgeous?" he'd asked her with a voice smooth enough to make Zoya's usual nervous energy vanish into a flattered blush. He looked into her cup before speaking again, "Want to help me find something that isn't cheap beer?"

Zoya had glanced back at you, her eyes wide with a silent 'Is this okay?' question. You'd given her a small, reassuring nod, the green light she needed to finally enjoy the night she'd spent weeks stressing over.

Now, you were alone sat on the island while the hem of Zoya's dress rode up slightly as you adjusted your seat. The fabric was sleek and undeniably hot, as she'd put it but it didn't stop you from feeling like an outsider looking in.

Through the pulse of the music and the low hum of athletic egos clashing, your mind drifted toward your dorm. You could almost feel the weight of your oversized weighted duvet and the silence of your room. You were halfway through the mental calculation of how long you had to stay before an early morning excuse became socially acceptable, when the stool next to your legs slid back and the scent of expensive cologne hit you before he even spoke.

"You look remarkably bored for someone who just clawed their way onto the most exclusive team on campus," his voice came, all deep and smooth, holding a hint of a challenge.

You looked up and met a pair of intense eyes. He was striking with sharp angles and cool composure. Normally, you might have given a dry retort about the music volume but you caught sight of Zoya across the room, laughing at something Jungwon said. You knew her mentals would never recover if you started your tenure by being rude to one of the hockey gods.

"I’m just a bit tired," you said and forced your lips into a polite smile. "It's been a long week of skating."

He tilted his head and studied you a little as if he were reading a play. "Fair enough. I'm Jongseong but everyone just calls me Jay."

"Nice to meet you, Jay. I’m Y/N" you replied. You were just about to settle into a rhythm of light banter when a second presence came crashing into your peripheral vision.

"And who is this cutie?"

The newcomer leaned against his palm with his elbow the marble counter, he was radiating a completely different energy from Jay, so warm and dangerously charming. He looked like the kind of guy that had never had a bad day in his life.

Jay didn't even glance at him, his dark eyes somehow stayed locked on yours and his voice dropped an octave as he answered for you. "Y/N," he said your name and made it sound like a claim and not like an introduction.

The new guy grinned, making his eyes crinkle at the corners. "Well, Y/N, I'm Jake. Huge congratulations on making the ice girls. That’s a big deal."

You offered an amused huff. "Thanks. Though I'm surprised you even know I'm new. I figured we all looked the same to you guys in those practice uniforms."

Jake let out a short laugh and shifted closer until he had his head nearly in your thighs. "Oh please," he murmured, letting his gaze travel over your face with a boldness that made the back of your neck heat up. "I would've spotted you months ago if you were already around. You're far too stunning to go unnoticed on this campus."

Before you could respond to Jake's blatant flirting, a third figure cut through the conversation. He didn't look at you, well at least not at first. He directed all his attention entirely to Jake. "Heeseung is looking for you," the newcomer said a little bit like a warning. "And he's already pissed. You were supposed let the delivery driver with the drinks in and now he’s gone…with the extra drinks."

Jake didn't look remotely intimidated, if anything he actually looked bored as he rolled his eyes and let his hair tickle your arm. "Heeseung gets pissed at everyone, Sunghoon. It's his default setting by now."

The name Heeseung had been floating around the dorms like a title of nobility for weeks but the way they spoke it made him sound like a force to be reckoned with. "Who exactly is Heeseung?" you cut in, managing to keep your voice steady despite the triple threat of hot guys surrounding you. "And should I be staying clear of him?"

That was the moment the new guy finally acknowledged you. His gaze drifted down and landed on you with a clinical kind of interest that felt like you were being scrutinized.

"He's our captain," Jake answered quickly, with a playful smirk returning to his lips. "And whether you stay clear of him or not isn't really up to you anymore, is it? You're an ice girl now."

"This is Sunghoon," Jake added, gesturing vaguely to the cold eyed newcomer.

Sunghoon didn't smile at you but the intensity of his stare softened just a fraction. "So, how does it feel? Being one of the chosen five?"

You opened your mouth to give a diplomatic, it's great response but your gaze snagged on a movement across the room, where Zoya was stood still with Jungwon distracted by the person he was talking to over her head. Her eyes were wide and her mouth slightly agape at the sight of you sat at the center of a triangle of hot guys.

She caught your eye and mouthed, "What the fuck?!" her expression was a blend of genuine horror and curios thrill.

You caught her eye and gave a subtle, helpless shrug, you didn't have an answer for her, damn—you didn't even have an answer for yourself. Ten minutes ago you were thinking about your bed and now, you’re the center of gravity for some sexy strangers.

Just as Jay was trying to pull you back into the conversation with a question about your major or something, a voice came from nowhere. "Jake. Come on, man. I told you to let the drinks guy in." The voice was low and authoritative, lacking any of the playful warmth the others had shown.

Heeseung didn't even look like a student in the best way possible, he looked like the architect of the entire room. His presence was heavy like a physical weight that made the banter from a moment ago feel suddenly juvenile. He didn't even acknowledge you, his eyes were fixed entirely on Jake with a look of tired discipline.

"He left and now we’re low on drinks," Heeseung added but Jake didn't miss a beat and instead of shrinking, he finally just placed his whole head in your lap as he flashed a boyish grin at his captain.

"Can you blame me, cap?" Jake countered, the tone was light but his eyes were dancing with a hint of challenge. "I was just doing my job. Making our newest recruit feel welcome. You wouldn't want the ice girls thinking we aren’t hospitable, would you?" He spoke as if you were the ultimate get out of jail free card.

Heeseung's eyes finally shifted, they traveled slowly from your face down to where your hands were resting in Jake's hair, then finally up to your face again. His eyes weren't hungry like Jake's or intense like Jay's, they were just insanely observant, tracing your features quietly in a way that made your breath scatter.

He let out a long sigh and you could see the tension in his jaw flicker for just a second before he looked back at the three guys flanking you.

"Of course," He said. "I should have known. You three always did have a habit of gravitating toward the prettiest girl in the room."

He stepped closer and invaded the space the others had already carved out, letting his shadow fall over you. "The problem is," he said, shifting his eyes to lock onto yours with a finality that made the myth Zoya was going on about suddenly feel real, "they usually forget that the prettiest ones are the hardest to keep in line."

His eyes searched yours for a crack in your nonchalant exterior. "So," he murmured, "are you going to be a problem, doll? Hard to keep in line?"

The weight of the four of them was suffocating, it made you lose trust in your own voice, so you simply shook your head, a subtle movement that felt like signing a contract you hadn't even read.

A satisfied smirk pulled at Jay's lips so he let his shoulder brush yours. "In that case," he said, "we're moving to a more...private after party. Just us. You wanna come?"

He didn't phrase it like a question, to you it sounded like it was an invitation or a command. You hesitated and your mind flashed back to the quiet safety of your dorm but Jake was quick in sensing your retreat. He reached out and let his thumb graze the back of your hand where it rested on the marble now since he lifted his head from your lap.

"Come on," he coaxed with a honeyed voice. "The night's just getting started. You don't want to be the only recruit who tucked herself in just before the real fun began, do you?"

"I...I can't leave Zoya," you managed to glance over their tall frames toward the dance floor. "We came together. I can’t just leave her alone."

Heeseung didn't even bother looking over his shoulder, as if he already knew exactly where everyone in the room was positioned. "Zoya’s in safe hands, Jungwon is the sweetest. He'll look after her."

You followed his gaze to the center of the room where the lights caught Zoya, who clearly wasn't checking for you anymore. She had her back pressed firmly against Jungwon's chest, her head tilted back as his hands gripped her hips. She looked flushed and lost in the heat of the moment, completely oblivious to the fact that you were being cornered right now.

The rumors Zoya had whispered about at the stone table suddenly didn't feel so ridiculous anymore. Looking at her, then back at the four sets of eyes waiting for your answer, you realized you had to make a choice. But maybe it wasn’t even like that, maybe they were just being really good wing men for Jay, who was the first to approach you. And if you’re being honest you didn’t mind the either of flirting with him more in a more quiet location.

That line of reasoning was exactly how you ended up sat between Jay and Sunghoon in the backseat of a massive truck you’re suspecting Jake owns, seeing as he’s the one driving with Heeseung in the passenger seat.

The fabric of Sunghoon's expensive jacket brushed against your left arm while Jay's solid frame pressed into your right, leaving you with nowhere to lean but forward.

The blue light of your phone screen felt blinding in the darkness of the car as you quickly typed out a message to Zoya.

You: I left with Jay. Didn't want to interrupt you and Jungwon. Text me when you're back?

You watched the read receipt appear instantly, trying to ignore how you conveniently left out the fact that you left with all four boys. A second later, a heart reaction popped up over the bubble, the girl didn’t even bother typing back, she was clearly occupied and it made you snort.

But before you could lock the screen, a large hand reached over and plucked the device from your fingers. Jay didn't even look at the screen as he pocketed it in his jacket with his gaze fixed on the side of your face. "Relax," he told you. "I promise you, Jungwon is a real gentleman. He'll make sure she gets back safe."

"He's right," Sunghoon added from your other side but when you looked at him, he was staring out the tinted window at the passing streetlights. "Jungwon is the best of us. No need to worry."

Jake caught your eye in the rearview mirror and flashed you his perfect white teeth, the engine roaring as he accelerated down the road.

The drive felt like it was happening in a different dimension, the hum of the engine was drowning out by the predatory focus of the men surrounding you.

Jay shifted his weight so his large frame crowded into your personal space until you were pinned against the leather seat and Sunghoon's solid side. "You have no idea how much I've been thinking about this since you walked into that kitchen," he said, "You're so fucking gorgeous, it's insane."

He moved closer, letting his nose brush yours and you could feel his warm breath on your lips. "I'm going to kiss you now. Is that okay?"

Your words had abandoned you, the sheer fervor of his gaze made you dizzy and all you could do was nod. He didn't wait to be told twice, crashing his lips onto yours in a kiss so hungry and demanding, it made a tiny whimper escape your throat, muffled by his lips as his tongue traced yours.

From the front, Heeseung's amused voice cut through the haze, he glanced back over his shoulder at the sight of Jay nearly on top of you, pushing you further into Sunghoon. "Control yourself, Jongseong," he said with no real bite to his words. "You're always so impatient. We aren't even off the main road yet."

Jay definitely wasn’t listening, deepening the kiss instead and letting his hand grip your waist. That’s when you felt a sharp spark of electricity as a different hand began a slow trail up the hem of your dress, his fingers grazing the sensitive skin of your thigh.

Your head snapped to the left with wide eyes to meet Sunghoon's gaze, who wasn't looking out the window anymore, whose lips were now pulled into a pout. "And what about me?" he whispered, "Where's my kiss, Y/N?"

Caught between the two of them, you leaned over and pressed your lips to Sunghoon's in a softer kiss. The moment you did, Jay groaned into your ear and grabbed your waist to hoist your leg over his lap, forcing your legs apart in the cramped space and making your dress ride up dangerously high.

Jay's fingers danced along your inner thigh, inching upward until they hooked under the delicate edge of your lace panties. The sensation sent a jolt through you and as Sunghoon began to trail wet kisses down the column of your neck, your breath hitched in a jagged sob.

You were sure you would faint if they both kept going but the vehicle came to a halt and Jake's voice drifted back from the driver's seat, "We're hereeee."

Trying to get out the truck, your legs felt like water when your heels hit the gravel of the driveway, making you stumble.

"Woah, easy there," Sunghoon caught you and before you could find your balance, he moved with the strength of an athlete. In one swift motion, he hooked an arm around your waist and hoisted you upward, flipping you over his shoulder like you weighed less than a hockey stick.

That forced a whimper out of your lips and your hair cascaded toward the pavement while the hem of Zoya's dress rode up even further. Blood quickly rushed to your head, mixing with the lingering dizzy spell Jay had started in the backseat.

SMACK.

The sharp sound of his palm connecting with your rear echoed in the quiet night. "Shh," he shushed you with his hand lingering for a possessive second on the curve of your hip. You could hear the others following behind him as he carried you into the house. Jake let out a low laugh from somewhere behind you. "Careful with the cargo, Hoon," he teased but there was no real concern in his voice.

"She's fine," Jay countered, speaking for you and reaching up to trace a slow line down your exposed calf.

Heeseung led the way and punched a code into a glowing keypad of the door, the mechanical click of the lock sounding like a gavel hitting a sounding block. He stepped inside and held the door open, his eyes tracked your inverted form on Sunghoon’s shoulder.

"Try not to make too much noise, doll. The neighbors think we're such studious boys."

Sunghoon dropped you carefully, setting you down on the couch and the first thing you registered was the interior of the house, it was even more imposing than the truck—all dark leather and the kind of minimalist luxury that felt cold until the four of them surrounded the couch where you sat. They stood in a semi circle, before Heeseung stepped forward with an expression so unreadable, it stripped away the playful banter of the car ride.

"Before we go any further, let's be clear," he started, speaking in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. "We're going to fuck you. All of us. If you don't want that, if you've changed your mind, say it now. We won't be mad and we won't make it weird. Jake will drive you back to your dorm and we'll go back to being normal hockey players and ice girl on Monday. No questions asked."

The rumors weren't just true, they were standing right in front of you, tall and extremely expectant.

But as you looked up at them you didn't feel fear Zoya had spoken of this very moment with. The adrenaline from the car ride was still singing in your veins, drowning out any hesitation.

Without a word, you reached up, hooking your fingers under the thin spaghetti straps of the dress. You watched their eyes track the movement as you slowly slid the fabric down, letting it pool around your waist until your breasts were fully exposed in the dim light of the apartment.

"Fuck yeah," Jake breathed, already reaching for the buckle of his belt. "I told you she was the right choice," he muttered.

Heeseung didn't have an outward reaction but the corner of his mouth ticked upward in a smirk—the first sign of genuine approval you'd seen from him all night. "Good girl," he said but now his voice carried a heavy sexual weight.

It was as if they had been waiting all night to tear into you, Jake didn't wait for a second invitation, he dropped to his knees by your legs before burying his face against your chest. "Fuck, I love tits," he groaned, the sound muffled against your skin before his mouth latched onto one nipple. He sucked with a greedy pace that sent a lightning bolt of heat straight to your core, his tongue swirling over the sensitive peak until you were arching your back off the leather cushions.

Above you, Jay was already crowding back into your space, ready to continue what he started in the car. He gripped your jaw and tilted your head back for a bruising make out that had you gasping for air, his hands found your hair to keep you exactly where he wanted you.

While Jake and Jay claimed your upper body, Sunghoon moved with a surgical focus. He didn't say a word as he reached down, hooking his fingers into the lace of your panties and tugging them down your legs in one smooth motion. He tossed the scrap of fabric onto the expensive floor without a second glance.

He looked at your pussy with a smirk pulling at his lips. "Look at that," his voice barely cut through the sounds of Jake's wet suction and Jay's heavy breathing. He reached out with two fingers to graze your folds, coming away coated in your evidence. He held them up to the dim light, showing you how much you were already leaking. "You're absolutely soaking. Such a little slut for the team, aren't you, baby girl?"

The words hit you in a way that made your toes curl and sent a whine into Jay's hungry mouth, your hips instinctively rolled upward toward Sunghoon's hand or face, desperate for the friction you knew was coming.

From the edge of the couch, Heeseung watched with a calm satisfaction, his arms crossed over his chest, taking in the sight of his teammates dismantling the newest ice girl.

"She's perfect," Heeseung noted. "Jay, move."

You were pinned to the plush leather of the sofa like a living sacrifice to the tradition you had only joked about five hours ago.

Heeseung leaned over you, letting his large hand cup the side of your face so he could claim your mouth. His kiss was deep, slower than Jay’s and tasted of dark intentions. But the moment his tongue met yours, you felt like you could fall in love with him, that thought was quickly pushed out of your head when a pair of hot, wet lips latched directly onto your clit with a suction so precise it felt like a machine.

"Ah—!" Your back arched violently off the cushions as you broke away from Heeseung's mouth, only to look down and find Jay's dark hair between your thighs. He didn't look up, his hands gripped your hips with bruising force to keep you still while his tongue worked with in rhythmic motions. He was fucking your pussy with his mouth, swirling his tongue and flicking it against the most sensitive parts of your cunt until you were sobbing into the quiet of the room. "S—Slow down!"

You tried to tug at the roots of his hair to ground yourself but there was no use. On either side of your chest, Jake was still relentlessly toying with your breasts, moving his mouth from one nipple to the other and grazing his teeth on the swollen peaks until they were raw and sensitive.

Heeseung didn't let you stay away for long, his hand shifted from your cheek again before sliding down until his fingers curled firmly around your throat. It wasn't enough to choke you, just a steady, pressure that forced your chin up and pinned you in place while he leaned back in to reclaim your lips.

"Stay still for me, mama."

With a hand on your neck, Jake's mouth on your chest and Jay's tongue devouring your cunt, you felt like you were being pulled apart. You became a mess of whimpers and little breaths while your body twitched with every flick of Jay's tongue as the four of them began the process of breaking you in.

Heeseung pulled back just enough to look down at you, his thumb tracing the line of your lower lip, which was now swollen from his kisses.

"Do you know how to suck a dick, doll face?" he asked, to which you could only nod with your eyes wide and glazed over from arousal.

He took hold of your jaw with a firm grip, maneuvering your head like a piece of equipment he was testing for the first time. You were forced to turn away from the wet sounds Jay was still making between your thighs and suddenly you were face to face with Sunghoon’s cock. He stood right at the edge of the sofa with his jeans already pulled down. His cock was thick and pulsing with a life of its own, there was a perfect bead of precum trembling at the crown. It looked lethal in that light, it looked way too big and ready, completely unapologetic.

"Open up."

Your mouth fell open in a silent invitation that he accepted instantly as he guided his length past your lips. The salt heavy taste of him flooded your mouth and you found yourself choking out a muffled whimper when he slid in deep, bottoming out against the back of your throat on the very first thrust.

He wasn't gentle, he lacked the patience Jake liked to pretend he had, he reaching down, he tangled his fingers into your hair at the roots to steady you or perhaps just to keep you from pulling away then began to fuck your face with a bruising rhythm.

It was complete sensory static, you had Sunghoon's weight invading your throat, Jay's tongue still ruthlessly fucking your pussy below and the heavy pressure of Heeseung's hand on the back of your neck. Every time Sunghoon thrust, his hips bumped against your nose and the scent of him suffocates you in the best possible way.

You were drowning in them, drowning in the friction of the leather sofa against your back and the dual assault on your body, you could barely find the air to breathe. It made you reach out and dig your fingers into Sunghoon's quads for some kind of leverage, you felt the rock hard muscle jump under your touch as you doubled down on the suction.

"God, look at her," Jake's voice drifted from somewhere above your chest. "She's taking him so well. Such a pretty thing."

Sunghoon wasn’t offering any ounce of mercy, his movement turned into something frenzied as he crowded into your space. He used your hair as a tether, pulling your head back to meet every punishing lunge, the friction of his length against your tongue and throat becoming a choking heat. You were swamped in the taste of him, making your eyes water cause his hips snapped forward with a certainty that left you with no room to breathe.

Determined to wrestle back some semblance of control, you reached up and clamped your hand around the very base of his cock, letting thumb press firmly into the heavy vein on the side, you tried to anchor him in place, circling your tongue around the head with laser focus. You started to suck and choke on him in a pace that had his knees buckling against the edge of the cushions.

The controlled grunts he had been making finally fractured. "Fuck," he gasped, something genuine and high pitched ripping from his throat as his head snapped back. The cold look he’d been attempting to wear all night was completely replaced by a wrecked expression that bordered on pain. He leaned his full weight into you, bracing one hand against the wall behind the couch, his fingertips raked against your scalp cause he was losing the battle to stay composed.

He looked down at the others, his voice a jagged rasp that ripped through the wet sounds of Jay still eating your pussy so messily and the squelching of his own cock fucking your mouth. "Heeseung...oh fuck my life, she's actually s—so fucking good at this."

Jake’s chuckle was appreciative from where he was still occupied with your chest, his thumb flicking your nipple with a punishing pinch that made you jump. "I told you. She's got that quiet desperate energy. They're always the nastiest."

Jay hadn’t even come up for air from the slick mess between your thighs, his tongue was still hitting your clit with sharp flicks that made your hips buck weakly into his mouth.

Heeseung's hand was tracing the frantic pulse in your throat, he watched the way your cheeks hollowed out when you doubled down on Sunghoon, his expression shifting from calculated observation to something much hungrier.

"Damn," "What a sight."

You fought for every bit of air while stilling working your throat around Sunghoon with a needy drive that you were determined to maintain until he finally came. You wanted that win, you wanted the feeling of him losing his composure completely as he spilled into your mouth but the sensation coming from Jay was starting to break your focus.

Two thick fingers suddenly shoved their way past your entrance and stretched you wide with an abrupt force that made your eyes roll back instantly. At the same moment, a hot mouth seized your clit again, sucking with an intent pressure that had you wanting to shriek.

The rush was too much, it was a violent collision of pleasure that had you trembling on the couch. You tried to pull back, shaking your head as you attempted to dislodge Sunghoon just to let out the scream building in your lungs. But Sunghoon wasn't having it, he forced you back down until you were buried to the hilt once more, snapping his hips forward with an unchecked urgency.

"Come on, baby girl...I'm so fucking close. Take this cock for me. You’re a good girl, right?"

You tried to obey, hollowing your cheeks so you could double down on the suction but the fingers inside you were merciless. They pushed deeper, reaching past depths you didn't know you had and hooking upward to find that one receptive spot to stay there, pulsing against it until your entire body went rigid.

The dam within you didn't just break, it completely shattered, leading to a hot wave of fluid erupting from you, soaking the hand buried inside you and splashing against the expensive cushions. You were squirting around those fingers in quivering jets, your gummy muscles clenched in an uncoordinated pulses that you couldn't stop if you tried. Every muffled whimper and sob was swallowed whole by Sunghoon's length, leaving you to shake helplessly as you were essentially being consumed from both ends.

"No way," Jake's excitement reached your ears through the haze, he stopped his assault on your breasts just to stare down at the slick mess soaking into the dark leather. "Holy shit, she's a squirter. Hee, did you see that?"

Jay let out an elated sound while his fingers were still buried deep to catch every last twitch of your orgasm. "I see it," he muttered. "I feel it. You’re ruining the couch, angel."

Even through their words and the force of your organs that had you shaking, Sunghoon’s hips were unstoppable. It was like he had lost his grip on reality and you could tell he was on the edge of his own climax.

His hand tightened in your hair with a pushing force as a string of broken curses tore from his throat. "Holy fucking shit—Fuckkk baby girl." "Sh—Shit! You’re gonna make me cum."

It was as if it was too much for him but he didn’t pull back, he pushed further into to your mouth, the phallic head of his cock assaulting your throat.

His hot spurts of cum shot down, making you gag and the cum overflow but he wasn't done, he somehow managed to keep thrusting, trying to fuck every last drop back into you with so much heat that your eyes rolled into the back of your head.

"Easy, Hoon. You're going to choke her," Heeseung's voice broke through the fog, still calm but carrying that undeniable authority. He reached forward, wrapping a hand around Sunghoon's shoulder and physically hauling him back.

The moment the pressure vanished and you heard the squelch of his cock pulling out from your mouth, you collapsed forward on the sofa. You couldn't seem to catch your breath, the air was whistling in your lungs as you coughed uncontrollably. Strings of white, pearly cum trailed from the corners of your mouth, dripped down your chin and carved wet paths through the sweat on your neck.

Jay moved over to catch your jaw, he started to pull at the hem of his shirt and made an effort to wipe the mess from your face but it was a lost cause—you were completely ruined. He looked down at you, his thumb tracing the swollen line of your lower lip and his eyes went soft for a minute. "You okay? We can stop if you've had enough. You're shaking like crazy."

The room went still for a heartbeat and all four sets of eyes tracked the way your chest heaved. You swallowed hard, still tasting Sunghoon heavy on your tongue and looked up through your lashes. A defiant smile making its way to your lips, even though a stray tear from overstimulation rolled down your cheek.

"No," your voice was barely audible over the sound of your own heartbeat. "You haven't even fucked me yet. Isn't that what you promised?"

A charged silence followed your words before Jake let out a sharp laugh that sounded more like a bark. "Jesus Christ," "She's a total fucking freak. I love it."

Before you could even think to retort, Heeseung's hands were on your hips hauling you up and flipping you over, forcing you onto all fours in the center of the sofa. Your knees sank into the plush leather and your head hung low, making your hair shield your face as you felt the cold air of the room hit your exposed pussy.

Heeseung seemed to love keeping you suspended in that agonizingly sharp moment of anticipation, your breath wouldn’t stop hitching as your patience dwindled, you felt the blunt head of his cock begin to drag along your wet folds. He was taking his time, coating himself in the mess Jay had left behind, teasing the entrance until you were mindlessly rolling your hips back to find him.

"D—Don’t tease!" You shrieked at him, so desperate to be filled, he finally pushed in slowly, it was so intrusive that you felt like you were being split wide from the inside out. His size was unforgiving and every millimeter he gained seemed to stretch your walls to their absolute limit. You were starting to tremble, your elbows buckling as you tried to stay upright and in a moment of total overstimulation, you twisted your neck to look back at him.

That was a mistake.

The second your eyes met his dark, blown out ones, completely hollow of any pity, his face hardened and he reached forward, large hand wrapping firmly around the front of your throat, not to choke you but to force your head up and arch your spine, causing a violent surge of his hips that buried his cock all the way inside your pussy.

"FUCK!" You screamed straight from your lungs, the impact was so sudden it knocked the air out of you, leaving you gasping as your walls squeezed down around him in a reflexive grip.

"Nngh—fuck," he grunted, dropping his forehead to the space between your shoulder blades at the feeling of you clenching. His fingers tightened slightly on your neck to hold you steady against the force of his own intrusion. "You're so fucking tight. Doll, are you sure you’ve been fucked before?"

Regardless of his pussy drunk concern, he didn’t give you a second to adjust, picking a speed that had him bottoming out with every single thrust, making the world blur into a cloud of white light and the steady slap of skin meeting skin.

You found a way to open your eyes and were immediately met with Jay standing just inches from your face with his hardened dick in his hand, stroking at the view in front of him. The sight of him with completely unfiltered hunger in his eyes made you reach out to try to grab him yourself but your fingers grazed his thigh instead.

"Yeah? You want this too, angel?"

You couldn't even find your voice, you could only bob your head in a nod while Heeseung's hips collided with your ass.

"Say please," Jay commanded.

"Ah—nhh, please..." you whined, the sound breaking into a jagged sob as Heeseung bottomed out again. "Please, Jay...please fuck my mouth."

He kneeled on the couch on the space between your hands, the heat of him hit your face before he tapped the heaviness of his length on your outstretched tongue. You were a complete mess, your hands clinging his thighs for balance while your body was tossed back and forth between the two of them.

Heeseung shifted his angle and suddenly he wasn't just pounding into you anymore, he began to grind into that spot that had your toes curling into the leather. It wasn't the raw friction Sunghoon had used to fuck your face—it was a slow and deliciously exact pressure that made you pull off Jay’s cock for a second.

"Oh my God! Right there! Fu—Ah!" A broken string of moans escaping you, you looked up at Jay with your eyes glazed and watering. "Jayyy, Heeseung...Heeseung’s fucking me so good...It’s so good, Jay!"

Jay watched your face contort with the pleasure Heeseung was providing. "Yeah?" Jay rasped with an instant competitive heat and pushed his way back into your mouth, forcing you to take him deep but not as deep as Sunghoon. "You like that? You like how he's stretching out your little pussy?"

Just as you were starting to manage the dual invasion of Jay and Heeseung, a new spark ignited at your core. Someone had reached beneath you, finding your clit with his fingers and rubbing down until he heard you moan.

"W—Wait! Too much!"

The scream was raw and echoed off the high ceilings as you realized Jake was the source of the new pleasure. A new pleasure so overwhelming it turned you into a delirious mess of babbles.

"Thank you—fuck—thank you so much!" You cried, your head thrashing against the sofa cushions, completely abandoning Jay’s dick. "It’s so big...my pussy! Oh my God! Heeseung, it feels so good!"

You dug your fingers into the leather and began to throw your ass back with an erratic force, you were weaponizing your own body, slamming back against him so hard that he let out a choked off grunt, his hands scrambled to find purchase on your waist cause you had completely hijacked his rhythm. He was losing his control, it made his breath come out in ragged, stuttering hitches as you ground your pussy on his fic harder and harder.

"Wait—oh shit—doll, slow down," Heeseung managed to say but his voice a mess. He was trembling and muscles were all corded and tight with how hard he was struggled to keep up with your manic pace. "I'm gonna...fuck...can I cum? Can I cum inside you, doll?"

"Yes! Yes!" you keened. "Give it to me, Heeseung—fill me up, please, please just do it! Please give me your cum!"

Maybe Jake was starting to feel felt out or neglected, maybe that’s why his eyes got this strange kind of glee in them when he delivered three stinging slaps directly to your swollen clit.

The impact was the final straw and you knew you didn’t stand a chance, your vision went dark at the corners and for the second time in less than an hour a wave of fluid erupted from your pussy, soaking Heeseung's thighs and the sofa in a hot jolt. At that exact moment, Heeseung lost the battle, letting out a guttural roar and having his fingers bruise your hips when he surged forward one last time and pinned you down, dumping his entire load deep inside your overstimulated cunt.

The expensive fabric of Zoya's dress was now a lost cause, it was a ruined topographical map of cum streaks and the translucent evidence of your own multiple orgasms. You were slumped against the leather with your skin hot when Jake leaned into your space. He looked down at you with a fake pout, his bottom lip tucked out in a way that would have been endearing if his eyes weren't so eager.

"You look absolutely undone," Jake said softly, a little playfully too while he traced a smudge of Sunghoon's cum on your cheek. "Are we done? Because you haven't even touched me yet and I'm starting to feel a little neglected over here."

Heeseung was a complete afterthought at this point, slumped back against the sofa cushions with his chest heaving, he looked entirely fucked out and content to just watch the rest of them continue to use you. Jay snorted as soon as he saw his captain sidelined before he reached out and tugged you toward him.

He didn't give you a choice in the positioning, quickly sitting back and pulling you onto his lap so that your back was pressed against his firm chest, your legs straddling his thick thighs in a reverse cowgirl that left you bare and vulnerable.

"I can be a bit rough, angel," Jay warned in a low voice that traveled straight through your spine. He leaned forward and let his lips graze the shell of your ear. "Just tap my arm if you need me to slow down, okay?"

You were able to give him a weak nod but right before you could even settle into the new position, the dynamic shifted. Jay's hands slid down, hooking the firmly under your knees and hauling your legs upward until your thighs were pinned against your chest. He shifted his grip and locked his fingers behind your head in a makeshift full nelson that made your chest thrust forward and your pussy completely bared to the room.

Jake quickly stepped in and helped Jay's guide his length to your entrance. The thrust of him was so creamy and squelching due to the mixture of Heeseung's and your cum but it didn't stop the way your pussy still felt stretched and overstimulated.

"Oh fuck—!"

You were completely at his mercy, pinned between his solid frame and the air, with no way to pull back or adjust the depth. Jay didn't waste a second of your shock, snapping his hips forward with animalistic strength that made your entire body jostle with every strike.

You became a passenger in your own body, your head lolling forward cause you had no choice, he ruined what was left of your composure with a speed you had no hope of escaping.

The sound Jake's loud commentary and the heavy, satisfied sound of Heeseung's laughter became nothing more than background static the moment Jay's lips grazed the damp skin of your earlobe, to whisper like he didn't want anyone else to hear. "Look at you," he hissed and words rattled in your skull.

His arms tightened under yours, pulling your chest even tighter against the position so he could fuck into you with sickeningly perfect thrusts. "Taking all of me like a champ while they just watch. You're so fucking wet, I can hear it every time my dick goes inside you. Do you like being our little showpiece? Do you like how much of a mess we've made of you?"

You tried to gasp, tried to find some response but he caught your ear in his teeth in a sharp nip. "Answer me, angel," he ordered and you couldn't help but clench harder at the sound of his sexy voice in your ear. "Tell me how good it feels to have me giving you this good dick. Tell me you're never going to be the same after tonight."

The way he spoke was so different from Sunghoon's cold commands or Heeseung's calculated dominance. He seemed to be utterly depraved while he detailed exactly what he was doing to your body, using words that made you feel like you were going insane.

"Nnh—Jay—"

"Yeah, that's it," he rasped, increasing his pace until you were bouncing helplessly in his grip. "Keep saying my name like that. Let them watch you cum apart for me. You're so fucking perfect, I'm gonna lose it if you keep squeezing me like that."

You were a complete disaster in his arms, like his words were actively bypassing your brain and heading straight for your pussy. He was pinning you to his chest and whispering every filthy thought he'd had about you since he first spotted you tonight, and with every word, he pushed you closer to the edge of your third orgasm you weren't sure your body was ready for.

The physical barrier of Jay's body didn't stop Jake, he seemed to be a creature of opportunity and when his eyes caught onto the wet frothing friction of Jay’s cock pounding into you, he darted his tongue out to trace Jay’s cock, catching the pearly drops of cum that had pooled at the base of him, and then he made a torturous trek upward. He licked right over the tension of your stretched entrance with his tongue firm and flat, before landing straight on your clit.

"Mmm—Jake—NO—!"

Your scream was harsh, heavy with the evidence of total sensory overload that vibrated through Jay's chest. You weren't just getting fucked anymore, they were taking you apart from the outside in. Every time Jake's tongue swirled over your now extremely sensitive nub, a fresh jerk of aching pleasure sang through your whole body to the point where all you could do was kick your feet and moan. "Oh my God! Oh shitttt! Fuck!" "Nggh—My pussy!"

"Look at you," Jay said into your ear so lowly that no one could hear him over the sound of your cries. "She's losing her fucking mind, Jake. Look at how she's shaking."

Jake didn't answer him with words, he just doubled down, mouth sucking, spitting and slurping until your vision was spotting. He was working in perfect tandem with Jay—the blunt force of the thrusts bottoming out inside you while Jake’s wet mouth kept you on the very edge of another violent climax.

You were a mess of incoherent sobs and frantic hitches as the room blurred into a haze of salt and the overwhelming scent of four men who were determined to see exactly how much you could take before they finally broke you for good.

"Hey," "You think you can handle more? You think that pretty little pussy of yours can take two cocks at once?"

Your brain was mid short circuiting from the overstimulation of both of them leaving you totally incapable of actual thought. You just wanted to be good for them, you wanted to be the perfect, ruined thing they so badly desired.

"Yes," you sobbed into the quiet of the room, making eye contact with Jake who had with tongue flat out so Jay was brushing up against it too. "Yes, please...I can take it."

Jay eyes locked onto Jake's with a competitive look. "She says she wants both, Jake. Get in here."

Jay didn't stop, but he did shift his rhythm, slowing the full nelson into a heavy grind that still kept you anchored while Jake stepped into the space between Jay's spread legs. Jake was vibrating with a feverish drive, his eyes were blown wide when he looked down at the slick mess of your pussy, mostly from him spitting and slurping all over it.

He spat a dollop directly onto your pussy again and the heat of it was a stark difference to the cooling fluids already coating your skin. Looking at him above you, all you could notice was how he was undeniably the heaviest and thickest you’d seen all night but you didn’t even get the chance to appreciate it before he decided to slap the heaviness of his cock directly on your swollen clit.

"Ah shit! Fuck Fuck Fuck—!" Your toes curled mid air.

He was massive in a way that made Sunghoon and Heeseung look manageable by comparison and who had struggled to take them, so how would you manage this?

"Look at you," Jake mocked, guiding the thick weeping head of his cock into your pussy, right alongside where Jay was still buried deep and grinding just on that spot. "You’re already stretching out for me. You’re such a good little slut, aren’t you?"

He began to push his way in, not waiting for your body to adjust around two massive cocks inside you. The stretch was agonizing, you felt like your walls were being pressed flat against your pelvis. You were being split in two, the two of them worked in sync to draw out the high pitched whimpers from your throat, bullying their way into your pussy until you were stuffed to the brim.

"That's it," Jay whispered in your ear, tightening his arms to keep you from collapsing under the weight of them both. "Take these cocks, angel. Show us how much you can really take."

His words made the room start to blur in a spectrum of light and the heavy thud of the sofa hitting the wall. Jay and Jake had found a devastating coordination—a seamless tag team assault where one was bottoming out against your cervix just as the other was pulling back to the entrance. You were never left empty, never given a second to recoil or catch a single, clean breath.

"God, Jay, your cock feels amazing," Jake barked out in a manic laugh while he watched the way your walls buckled and pulled taut to accommodate both their lengths. "I can feel you pulsing right against me inside her. She's so fucking tight." "You always this tight, babe?"

You were barely tethered to reality not to talk of attempting to respond to him, he was asking like he and his teammate weren’t both fucking your little pussy at the same damn time. "I can’t! You’re—I’m gonna cum again! Please!"

In a moment of panicked overstimulation, you tried to blink through the sweat stinging your eyes to search the shadows for Heeseung's grounding presence or Sunghoon's cold, watchful gaze. But the living room had swallowed them whole, they were nowhere to be found, leaving you entirely at the mercy of the two most insane.

Jake had seemed to develop a fresh obsession with your clit. It was like he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out for the twitching bundle of nerves with his fingers. The shock of the cold metal of his rings against your feverish, hot skin sent a violent tremor through your entire frame.

"Ah! Wait—! N—no!"

"No? I bet you fucking love it?" "I bet you love being fucked by four random strangers, oh shit."

"I bet this is the best—oh fuck!—I’m going to cum."

"This is the best night of your life. Say it."

"Holy shit! Yes yes yes! This is the best night of my fucking life!"

"You're going to be such a pretty little ice girl for us, you know that? You’ll be the sexiest thing on the ice. Everyone's gonna to look at you and have no idea you were fucked like this, shit, like a whore on a Friday night."

The mention of the ice, the mention of the world outside this suffocating living room felt like a distant dream. Your vision started to tunnel and the edges of the room started to fray into darkness as the dual friction of their bodies and the icy bite of Jake's rings pushed you toward a ledge you couldn't come back from.

A third and what you could tell would be your most violent orgasm of the night was already beginning to bubble up in your stomach, the feeling threatened to short circuit your entire nervous system. Your walls clutched at them with a crushing strength and for a terrifying, blissful second, the world went completely silent as you felt yourself starting to slip out of consciousness right at the peak of your pleasure.

The world didn't just blur, it splintered. Your third orgasm hit you with so much force you sat on the edge of unconsciousness, you tried to hold onto the overwhelming fullness of them both but your vision had started to dissolve into static.

Through the ringing in your ears, you heard a sharp grunt when Jake suddenly pulled out. The loss of his heavy weight was a shock to your system and you were left choking for a breath you couldn't quite find.

"Fuck—"

A second later, you felt the heat of his cum splashing across your chest, the weight of it soaking into the ruined fabric of the dress and landing on your sensitive nipple. He didn't stop, his hand tugging his cock in a final rhythm to coat your skin in the evidence of how much you had ruined him.

At the exact same moment, Jay let out a low moan but he didn’t pull out, if anything, he shoved his cock deeper just as he unlocked his fingers from behind your head and you immediately felt his cum beginning to fill you up, a heavy, internal tide that pushed you over the final ledge.

The heavy sound of their breathing was the last thing you registered before you slipped into a dark, unconsciousness, completely and utterly spent.

Is that a bird? You thought. No way that’s a bird but there was a chirp piercing through the fog of your consciousness. You winced as you tried to blink the world into focus, the ceiling above you was familiar, the off white and the faint water stain in the corner were familiar but the context was all wrong.

You were in your own dorm room.

The confusion hit like a physical weight and made your heart hammer against your ribs. You felt clean too, with the lingering scent of a citrusy body wash clinging to your skin but when you managed to push yourself up, the fabric of what you were wearing felt heavy and oversized. It wasn't your silk slip of Zoya’s dress, it was a thick, grey hoodie that smelled faintly of Jay's cologne and a pair of soft athletic shorts that definitely didn't belong to you.

A sharp ache blossomed in your lower back the moment you shifted, followed by a dull soreness between your thighs that made you hiss through your teeth. So you definitely didn’t dream up last night, the memory of all four of them, from Sunghoon fucking your face to Heeseung’s grip on your throat and the brutal weight of Jay and Jake stretching you to the brink, everything came rushing back in a vivid flood.

You reached up to trace the sensitive skin of your neck. Even without a mirror, you could feel the tender heat of the hickeys littered all across your collarbone and neck. You pulled back the hem of the oversized hoodie and gasped at the blossoming bruises on your hips, they were perfectly symmetrical to where Jay and Heeseung had grabbed you.

"How did I get back here?" you whispered to yourself and reached for your bedside table, expecting to find your cracked phone screen and a half empty water bottle. Instead, your hand brushed against the wicker of a massive, overflowing gift basket. It was filled with things that had no business being in a college dorm room—high end skincare, a silk robe, a plushie and boxes of artisanal chocolates.

But sitting right at the center and gleaming under the morning sun, was a pair of professional grade figure skates looking like something you would never buy cause of how expensive you knew they were. The white leather was pristine, the blades polished to a lethal shine and as you pulled them closer, you saw your initials—your initials—expertly embroidered into the heel in silver thread.

Tucked into the laces was a small card. You opened it with shaking fingers to read the scribbled words.

Thank you for the lovely night, doll face.

— The Hockey Team

These boys had seen you at your most ruined, they had taken apart every bit of your composure until you literally blacked out in their arms and then they had washed you, brought you back to your own bed and tucked you into bed like you were something precious.

You were tracing the silver embroidery on the skates when the door to your dorm swung open with a violent bang. Zoya practically vibrated into the room in a whirlwind of excitement and messy hair, her voice was already at a pitch that made your sore head throb even more.

"You will not believe him!" she shrieked, collapsing onto the foot of your bed without even looking up. "Jungwon is—god, he's actually the sweetest human alive. He sent me like five texts checking if I got in okay, even though he walked me back and now we're going on a date tonight? I'm going to throw up, I'm so nervous. You have to help me, I need to breathe, I need—"

She stopped mid sentence when her eyes finally landed on you. Her jaw dropped as she took in the oversized hoodie, the tangled mess of your hair and the undeniable hickey just above your collarbone. Then, her gaze drifted to the massive basket and the gleaming skates.

"Oh my," she breathed, her voice dropping into a stunned, reverent whisper. "Wait...is this from Jay? Stop, that is actually so hot. Did you guys...did you actually have sex? Tell me everything!"

"Yeah…we did. Something like that."

"No way! You're kidding! And he sent all this!?" Zoya shrieked, lunging forward to tackle you into the pillows while you wracked your brain for a less insane version of the story you were going to feed her, a version where you had sex with just Jay.

Exactly three weeks later, it was hockey season and the biting chill of the practice rink felt like a sanctuary these days rather than a chore. You glided through a series of warm up laps with the other ice girls in the brand new skates that now felt like a natural extension of your own body. They were perfectly broken in, like a silent reminder of a night that still felt like a fever dream every time you closed your eyes.

Zoya was a few feet away in a blur of focus and grace. She tucked into a tight, centered spin, her arms pulling in as she gained a dizzying amount of speed. It was genuinely impressive, she had the kind of technical precision that usually took years to master and you couldn't help but pause to watch her finish with a sharp flourish. "Show off," you teased her.

She laughed but her attention was immediately pulled toward the far end of the rink when the loud thud of the gate opening echoed through the arena, followed by the aggressive clack-clack of blades hitting the ice. The hockey team was filing out for their scheduled practice and their presence instantly shifted the energy of the room from quiet focus to something loud and electric.

Jungwon didn't even bother wavering the moment he spotted Zoya, he skated straight to her in fluid movements despite the heavy pads. He caught her by the waist and leaned in to press a quick kiss to her lips that had her giggling like a schoolgirl.

"See you after?" he asked loud enough for you to hear, before skating off toward the center circle. As you watched him skate away, your eyes drifted to the rest of the team and you found Jake almost immediately. He was leaning against the boards with his helmet tucked under one arm while he watched you with those eyes. When he realized you were looking back at him, he didn't look away, instead he let his eyes drop to the silver initials on your skates before snapping back to yours with a wink that said everything and nothing at all.

Zoya’s head whipped toward you, her eyes wide cause she caught the tail end of the exchange. "Woah, woah—what was that? Jake? Seriously?" She skated closer and poked your arm with a gloved finger. "Does Jay know his teammate is giving you those kinds of googly eyes? Are you trying to start a locker room war?"

A slow heat curled in your gut but didn't say a word. You just looked at her and held her gaze for a beat, then made a deliberate show of zipping your lips together and throwing away the key with a flick of your wrist.

"Stop! You are so mean!" Zoya squealed, grabbing your shoulders and spinning you around in a circle. She started whining, her voice echoing off the high ceilings as she begged for just one little detail. "You can't do that to me! I tell you everything about Jungwon! Is it a thing? Is it a secret thing?"

You just laughed, the sound bright and clear against the ice, enjoying the way she was spiraling into a hysterical frenzy. You watched the guys start their drills—Heeseung’s effortless authority, Jay’s raw power, Jake’s erratic energy and Sunghoon’s cold precision.

Zoya could have her dinner dates and her sweet texts with Jungwon, this was a secret that no one else needed to know—except, perhaps, next year's chosen ice girl.

God help her.

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© nephynes 2025

The air in the chemistry lab smelled like bleach and rotting dreams. You'd made it. One final bell between you and never seeing Sim Jaeyun or Park Sunghoon again.

Your graduation gown was already packed. Your transfer paperwork was finalized. A public school across the city, where your mother's waitress salary could barely afford the tuition but where their names wouldn't echo in the hallways.

You were almost at the main doors when a hand closed around your wrist.

“Leaving without saying goodbye?”

Jake's voice was a low-purr now, no longer the cracking taunt of freshman year. He'd grown into his family's money–taller, broader,  with a sharp jawline that made teachers overlook the cruelty in his eyes. Sunghoon stood slightly behind him, a silent, beautiful shadow. They were both in uniform, but theirs were tailored, the fabric expensive where yours was threadbare.

“I have to go.” You said, voice barely a whisper 

“We saw you.” Sunghoon said. His voice was softer and almost melodic. It made the words worse. “Talking to that scholarship kid by the lockers. Kim something. You smiled at him.”

Your blood ran cold. “We were just—”

“Just what?” Jake tightened his grip, his thumb pressing into your pulse point. “You know what happens when you smile at other people.”

You did. The memory of beomgyu, the guy from your geometry study group they'd cornered last semester, flash behind your eyes. The sound of his nose breaking. The way they'd make you watch.

“It wasn't like that.” You pleaded. 

“We'll see.” Jake said.

They'd dragged to the unused music wing. The school had poured money into a new athletics center, leaving this part of the building to decay. Sunghoon kicked open the door to the practice room, the piano inside covered in a dusty sheet.

Kim Minho was already there, slumped against the wall, one eye swollen shut, lip split and bleeding onto his white shirt. He looked at you and you saw shame in his eyes–shame that he couldn't protect you, shame that he was seeing you like this.

“Watch.” Jake commanded, shoving you to your knees on the dusty floor.

What followed wasn't a fight. It was a systematic dismantling. Sunghoon held Minho while Jake hit him–not wild punches, but precise, brutal strikes to ribs, the stomach, places that wouldn't show in graduation photos. Each impact was dull, wet thud. Minho stopped crying out after the third blow. He just grunted, a wounded animal sound.

“Stop.” You sobbed. “Please. I'm sorry. I'll do anything, just stop.”

Jake paused, chest heaving. He looked from Minho's broken form to you, kneeling in your pleated skirt. A slow, terrible smile spread across his face.

“Anything?” He repeated.

Sunghoon let Minho slump to the floor. He wasn't unconscious but he wasn't moving either. His breath came in ragged, wet hitches.

Jake walks towards you. Sunghoon followed, closing the door and sliding the lock with a final echoing click.

“Take off your shirt.” Jake said.

Your hands trembled. The buttons on your blouse felt impossibly small. The air in the room was cold against your skin as you let fabric fall. You crossed your arms over your chest, your white bra feeling flimsy as tissue paper. 

Sunghoon made a low sound in his throat. “Look at that. All this time.”

Jake unbuckled his belt. The sound was loud in the silent room. “You know what to do.”

You didn't. You really didn't. You have watched things here and there or heard about it only. But the reality upon seeing him–thick, already hard, the tip flushed and leaking–made your stomach turn. The smell of his cologne, something expensive and woody, mixed with the coppery tang of Minho's blood.

“Jake i–”

His hand fisted in your hair, yanking your head forward. “Open.”

You gagged immediately. The stretch was painful, intrusive. He didn't thrust, just held you there, his grip on your hair keeping you in place as you choked, tears and saliva leaking from the corner of your mouth. 

“Eyes on me.” He commanded, his voice strained.

You look up. His eyes were dark, glazed with pleasure. Besides him, Sunghoon had freed himself, stroking slowly as he watched. “For a virgin. She's taking it so well.” He mused, as if commenting on the weather.

When Jake finished, he pulled out, releasing your hair. You collapsed forward, coughing the taste of him sour in your mouth. Before you could recover. Sunghoon was there, tilting your chin up.

“My turn.”

It was worse, because you knew what to expect. The ache in your jaw, the helpless choking, the sheer violation of it. You cried in earnest then, the sob making you gag harder, sunghoon groaned, his free hand coming up to squeeze your breast over your bra, his thumb rubbing roughly over your nipple.

“Good girl.” He whispered, and the praise was more degrading than any insult.

When it was over, they tucked themselves away, adjusting their uniforms as if they'd just come from a meeting. Jake looked down at you, a crumpled half- naked mess on the floor.

“Consider that our final warning.” He said. 

Sunghoon tossed your blouse at you. It landed on your head. “Get dressed. And if you ever talk to another guy again.” He glanced at Minho's still form. “We'll know.”

You left the school and never went back again. You never reported the incident. You knew their families owned the school board, the local police precinct, the newspaper. You were a scholarship student. Kim Minho was a scholarship student. You were replaceable. They were untouchable. 

You packed your trauma away with your uniform, believing distance was a cure. You were wrong. 

[♡]

Six years later, the waiting room of Sim Global Innovations smelled of lemon cleanser and quiet wealth. You smoothed your skirt for the tenth time. Your blazer was expensive, bought on credit you no longer had room to spare—immaculate, unforgiving, and necessary.The job–executive assistant to the CEO–paid twice what you made at logistics firm. Enough to finally start chipping away at the mountain of medical debt from your mother's heart surgery. 

You'd researched sim jaeyun. The photos showed a man, not a boy. Sharp-suited, devastatingly handsome. There was no hint of the sadistic teenager in those polished smiles. Maybe he'd changed. Maybe money had smoothed his edges. Maybe.

“Miss Y/L/N? He'll see you now.”

His office was a monument to glass and steel, with a view of the city that felt like owning it. He stood at the window, his back to you, a silhouette of power.

“Thank you for coming.” He said, turning. 

Time folded in on itself.

The eyes were the same. Dark, intense, missing boyish malice but gaining something heavier, more calculated. He looked you up and down, a slow appraising sweep that felt like being undressed.

“Have a seat.”

The interview was a blur of standard questions. Your qualifications, your experience. He was professional. Then he leaned back, steepling his fingers.

“You went to Hansong high?”

A block of ice settled in your chest. “For a year, but I transferred. “

“I know. I was a student there.” He tilted his head, studying you. Something flickered in his eyes. A spark of recognition, then confusion, then….a slow dawning hunger. “Wait, I know you.”

You forced a laugh. It sounded brittle. “I don't think so. It was a big school.”

“No.” He stood up,walking around his desk to lean against the front of it, looming over you. “No. It wasn't. And you. You had the locker by the east stairwell. You flinched when anyone raised their voice.” He squinted and then it clicked. The predator recognizes its old prey. A slow, terrifying smile touched his lips. “Well, I'll be damned. The little mouse from the music room.”

Your heart stopped. The air vanished from your lungs.

“It's ….it's you.” He murmured. 

“In the flesh.” His smile widened, showing perfect teeth. “All grown up. And applying to work for me? What are the odds?” he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial 

whisper that reeked of expensive aftershave. “I looked for you, you know. After you vanished. Asked around. But you just…poof. Gone. Over a little….extracurricular activity.” He tsked. “I didn't expect you'd transfer just over sucking couple of cocks.”

The vulgarity, delivered in that smooth, boardroom voice, was a shockwave. The professional veneer was gone, stripped away in an instant. The boy from the practice room was right there, in a Brioni suit. 

“I…I should go.” You stammered, standing on shaky legs.

“Sit down.” The command was quiet, absolute. “This job is yours. The salary is 20% more than  advertised. Full benefits. Your mother…she's not well, is she? I had HR pull your background check. Hospital bills can be so crushing.”

It was a threat wrapped in a gift. A glided cage, and he was holding the door open. 

You thought of your mother, of the collection notices, of the way her hand shook when she looked at the statements. You sat back down.

The smile he gave you was one of pure,unadulterated victory. “Smart girl. You start Monday. “

The first week was a surreal tense dream. Jake was… courteous. He called you ‘miss y/l/n’. He thanked you for the coffee. He didn't mention high school. You started to breathe, to believe in the impossible–that he'd grown up, that the power had mellowed him.

It was a lie and you were a fool for believing it.

It started small. A Monday morning, you were organizing files in the supply closet, a narrow room lined with shelves.

“Need something, sir?” you asked, trying to squeeze past him in the doorway. 

He didn't move. Instead, he shifted, his chest brushing against yours, his hip pressing into you. You were pinned between his body and shelf. You could feel the warmth of him,the solid muscles beneath his dress shirt.

“Just looking for the new printer cartridge.” He said, his voice casual, but his eyes were on your lips. His hand came up, not to touch you, but to reach for a box above your head. His arm caged you in. He lingered, his breath stirring your hair. “You smell different than you did in high school. Less..scared.”

He pulled back, taking the box and left without another word. Your knees were trembling. 

One day you heard him saying familiar name ‘sunghoon. He was on call with him. You didn't mean to eavesdrop, you just happened to be there.

Sunghoon.

The name was a bucket of cold water. You'd never asked if they were still in touch. The idea of seeing him again, of those cold, assessing eyes on you, made your hands slick with sweat.

Unfortunately, sunghoon appeared the following Thursday. You were delivering a stack of contracts to Jake's office when you heard a smooth, familiar laugh from inside. Your steps faltered.

“Come in.” Jake called.

Park Sunghoon was draped in the visitor's chair like he owned it. He'd grown even more strikingly handsome, his beauty almost sevre. His suit was dove grey, impeccable. His eyes landed on you, and for a moment, there was nothing. Then recognition, slow and delighted.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in.” He drawled. “The little runaway. “

You set the contracts on Jake's desk with numb fingers.

“Sunghoon, you remember our new EA?” Jake said, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

“How could I forget?” Sunghoon's gaze traveled over you, from head to toe. It felt like being licked by something cold. “You've filled out nicely. Still working the virgin vibe, I see.”

Heat flooded your face.

“The coffee, miss Y/L/N.” Jake reminded you, sweet as poison. 

You fled.

When you returned, balancing the tray, their conversation halted. They were both watching the door, waiting for you. 

“Here you are, sir, Mr. Park.” You set the cups down, careful not to touch their fingers.

As you straightened, Sunghoon's hand shot out patting your backside with a loud, stinging smack. It wasn't playful. It was possessive and demeaning.

“Still a great ass.” He said to Jake, as if you weren't standing right there. “For a virgin, she gave a really good blow job. Good tits too.”

The world tilted. The casual cruelty, the way he reduced the most traumatic moment of your life to the critique of your sexual performance, stole the air from the room.

Jake chuckled, sipping his latte. “Don't embarrass her, hoon. She's our professional employee now.” 

But his eyes said otherwise. 

The harassment became your new normal, a daily degradation you had to swallow with a neutral face.

“Miss Y/l/n, close the door.” You obeyed standing before Jake's desk.

“Mr. Park firm, Park consolidated, is our new lead partner on the Aerion project. He'll be in office frequently for meetings. I'm assigning you as his liaison while he's here. Any tasks he requires, you handle.”

“Sir. My job description–”

“Has just been expanded.” He interrupted, his voice losing its false warmth. “Your salary has been adjusted accordingly. A… hardship bonus, let's call it. For your mother's continuing care.” He leaned forward. “Do you have a problem with that?” 

The threat was crystal clear. Your mother's health versus your dignity.

“No, sir.” 

“Good.,” he smirked.

[♡]

The next day, you stood in a sleek, empty conference room.  The door opened. Not Jake. Him. Park Sunghoon.

“Well what a pleasant sight.” He said, his voice smooth, quiet baritone that slithered down your spine. 

He simply closed the door behind him with a soft definitive click. The sound echoed in the silent room.

“M-Mr. Park. Welcome. Can I get you anything? Coffee, water?” you hated the tremor in your voice. 

He walked a slow circle around you, his gaze a physical touch. “Y/n. Six years. You have filled out. Nicely. “

You flinched. “I'm here to assist with your meeting agenda. Mr. Sim should b–”

“Jake's running late. Told me to get started with you.” He stopped in front you, too close. The clean, citrus and sandalwood scent of his cologne was suffocating. “Jake told me you have been a really good girl.”

You took a step back, hitting the edge of the polished conference table. “I'm just doing my job.”

“Are you?” A slow, cruel smile touched his lips. “Jake showed me your file. Your mother's condition is…costly. It's admirable,  your dedication. If misguided. “ he reached out, before you could react, his thumb was stroking the line of your jaw. His touch was ice-cold. “You left quite an impression, you know.” His gaze dropped to your chest, concealed by a modest blouse and blazer. “They were perfect, handfuls. I've wondered how they have matured.”

Revulsion, thick and hot, climbed your throat. “Don't touch me.”

His hand snapped to your waist, gripped hard, yanking you against him. The air left your lungs in a shocked gasp. “Don't?” He whispered, his mouth near your ear. “You're not in a position to give orders, sweetheart. You're a glorified office slut on salary. Now, be a good girl and get me a coffee. Black. And take this ridiculous jacket off. It's stifling here.”

Tears of shame and fury pricked your eyes but you blinked them back. You pulled away, your body moving on autopilot, the survival instincts from high school roaring back to life. You shrugged off your blazer, leaving you in a blouse and walked on unsteady legs to the coffee station in the corner.

You felt his eyes on you the entire time. As you poured the coffee back to him, you heard his footsteps. You went rigid, the carafe trembling in your hand. 

His presence materialized behind you, a wall of expensive fabric and menace. His hands landed on your hips, pulling you back against the hard line of his body. You could feel unmistakable evidence of his arousal. 

“Still so jumpy.” He murmured, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. One hand slid around to your stomach, splaying possessively, while the other came up to fondle your breast over your blouse, his fingers pinching your nipple through the fabric. A sharp, unwelcome jolt through you. “See? Just as perfect. Jake said you have been pretending to be a good little employee. But we know what you really are. Don’t we?” 

“Please.” You choked out, staring blankly at the artwork on the wall. “Someone could come in.”

“The floor is cleared. Jake's orders.” His hand left your breast, and slid down over your skirt, cupping you between your legs. You jerked, a strangled sound escaping you. He pressed harder, his fingers digging in. “Our little secret. For now on.”

The conference room door flew open.

Jake stood there, a smirk playing on his lips. He didn't look surprised. He looked pleased. 

“Starting without me?” Jake's voice was light, teasing.

Sunghoon didn't move his hand, just turned his head slightly, his grip on you tightening. “Just getting reacquainted with the liaison. She was getting me coffee.”

“I see that.” Jake strode in, closing the door again. His eyes raked over you, pinned between sunghoon and counter. “She makes a good pot, doesn't she? Among other things.”

The meeting that followed was a special kind of hell. You were made to sit, legs tightly crossed, blazer forgotten on a chair, taking notes as two men discussed merges and acquisitions. All while the sunghoon gaze burned into you. Every few minutes, under the table, his polished longer loafer would nudge your ankle, then slide up your calf. Once, when you reached for your water glass, his hand shot out and squeezed your thigh, his finger biting in, a silent warning.

When the formal part ended, Jake leaned back. “Miss Y/n, Sunghoon needs the projection files from the marketing server. The secure one. Walk him down to the Tech center. Help him access it.”

It was a transparent ploy. The tech center was secluded, ĺow traffic wing, especially after house, which it nearly was.

“Of course, Mr. Sim.” You whispered. 

The walk down the long, silent hallway felt like a death march. Sunghoon walked beside you, his stride leisurely. As you turned the corner into an empty corridor lined with server rooms, he grabbed your arm and shoved you into a dimly lit printer alcove, crowded with spare toner and paper reams.

He crowded you against the storage cabinet, his body caging you in. The polite corporate mask was gone, replaced by a raw, mean boy from the past. Or maybe Sunghoon never tried to pretend to be like Jake.

“You have been avoiding my eyes all afternoon.” He said, his voice low, nasty rasp. He gripped your chin, forcing your face up. “Look at me when I'm talking to you.”

You met his gaze, your own burning with hatred. 

“Better.” His other hand went to the waistband of your skirt, popping the button, sliding the zipper down. “Jake says you still jump when he touches you. That you still cry. Is that true?” 

“Go to hell.”You spat.

He laughed, a short humourless sound. His hand pushed into underwear, his fingers cold and intrusive. You cried out, trying to twist away but he slammed you harder against the cabinet, the edge digging into your back.

“Still so tight.” He mused, as his finger pushed inside you. The invasion was a dry, painful violation that had nothing to do with pleasure. Tears finally spilled over, tracing hot paths down your cheeks. “Just like I remember all those years and no one has touched this? Pathetic. 

He worked his fingers cruelly, watching your face contort in pain and shame. “You belong to us. You always did. Running away just made the chase more fun.” He leaned in, his breath hot on your face. “And now we have caught you. We're not letting go. You're going to be our little office pet. Our stress relief. Whenever we want. However we want.”

He removed his fingers, glistening with your unwanted wetness and wiped them slowly over your silk blouse, right over your heart. The stain was a brand.

“Now.” He said, redoing your zipper with chilling tenderness. “Fix your face. Get the file. And meet us back in Jake's office.”

He stepped back, adjusting his suit jacket, looking every bit the pristine executive. You slid down the cabinet, knees giving away, clutching your ruined blouse, sobs wrenching silently from your chest.

As he walked aways, he paused, glancing back over his shoulder. His expression was one of pure, unadulterated possession. 

“Oh and y/n.” He said, his voice echoing softly in the empty hall. “The next time a male intern so much as smiles at you. I won't use my fingers.”

He disappeared around the corner, leaving you shattered on the floor. The sterile hum of servers was the only sound, a mockery lullaby for your new reality.

[♡]

Niki from accounting, a sweet guy fresh out of college, stopped by your desk to clarify a billing code. He was leaning over your monitor, pointing at the screen. When the shadow fell over you both.

“Is there a problem?”

Jake's voice was deceptively calm. Niki straightened quickly, flushing.

“N-no Mr. Sim..just a query about Aerion.”

“Miss y/l/n can handle her own queries.” Jake said, his eyes fixed on you. “Go back to your department, niki.”

Once niki scurried away, Jake placed his hand on your desk, caging you in.

“What did I tell you about fraternizing? He asked, softly.

“You didn't tell me anything.” You whispered,  defiance sparking for a second.

His hand snaked out, grabbing your thigh under the desk, his fingers digging in painfully high, too close. You jolted.

“He's not paying your mother's bills, is he?” he hissed, his face close to yours. The scent of him, expensive cologne from high school filled your nose. “I am. Every fucking penny. That means this.” His grip tightened. “Is mine. Your time is mine. Your attention is mine. Do you need a reminder of what happens when you forget that?” 

The ghost of Minho's broken face swarms before your eyes. You shook your head, tears of shame and rage welling up.

“Good.” He released you, standing up and straightening his cufflinks. “Now Sunghoon needs those TPS reports collected before 4. Look busy.”

With that he walked away.

[♡]

The email came at 7:45 PM on a Friday. The office was a tomb of empty desks and humming computers.

From: Sim Jaeyun

Subject: Urgent- home office

Miss Y/L/N,

I've left a crucial folio for the Monday merger at my penthouse. I need it reviewed and annotated tonight. I'll text you the address. Be there by 9 PM. 

J.S

Your thumb hovered over the keyboard. I can't, it's inappropriate. It's Friday night.

But the unspoken words hung in the digital silence. Your mother's next payment is due Monday. Do you want to explain to the hospital why it's late?

You typed a single word: understood.

His penthouse occupied the entire top floor of the tallest residential tower in the city. The private elevator opened directly into a living room of minimalist opulence–concrete, steel, floor‐to‐ceiling windows showcasing the city's glittering veins.

He was waiting, dressed in dark jeans and a tight black sweater that hugged his shoulders. He held two glasses of red wine.

“You made it.” He handed you a glass. You took it, your fingers brushing his. “Relax. The file can wait a minute. You look tense. “

“I should just get the file and go, Mr.Sim.”

“Jake.” He corrected, stepping closer. “We're not at the office now.” He reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. The touch was intimate, claiming. “You know, I've thought about you a lot over the years. Wondered where you went. What you were doing.” 

You took a step back, hitting the edge of a cold, marble console. “It was a long time ago” 

“Was it?” he followed, closing the distance. His body was a wall in front of you. “It feels like yesterday to me. The look on your face in that room. The way you cried.” His voice dropped husky. “It was the hottest thing I'd ever seen.”

Revulsion twisted your gut. You tried to slide away, but he caught your wrist. 

“Please Jake, don't.”

“Don't what?” He leaned in, his lips a breath from yours. “Don't take what's mine? You walked back into my life. You took my money. You think that doesn't come with strings.”

The elevator chimed softly. The door opened, and Sunghoon stepped out. He was in a tailored coat, his cheeks flushed slightly from the cold night air. He saw you pressed against the console, Jake holding your wrist and a slow predatory grin spread across his face.

“Starting the party without me?” he shrugged off his coat, revealing a cashmere sweater. “I see the little mouse is all grown up and still playing hard to get.” 

“She was just reminiscing about old times.” Jake said, but he still didn't let go of your wrist.

Sunghoon walked over, his eyes drinking you in. “I remember how tight your cunt felt around my fingers. How you shook.” He took your free hand, and placed it against the front of his trousers. You felt the hard, thick length of him through his trousers. “See? I remember very well.” 

Panic, pure and electric shot through you. You tried yanking your hand free, but Jake's grip was iron.

“Let me go!” 

“Shhh.” Jake murmured, his other hand coming up to stroke your cheek. It was a grotesque parody of tenderness. “You're going to be good for us, just like before. Only this time, we don't have to hide in a dusty music room.” 

Sunghoon's hand slid from your hand to your hip, pulling you away from Jake and against him. His mouth found your neck, biting down on the tender skin where your pulse hammered. “Missed this.” he growled against your skin. 

“Wait.” Jake said, his eyes gleaming with a new dark fire. He looked at Sunghoon. “She's still a virgin.”

Sunghoon pulled back, eyebrows raised. He looked at you, then back at Jake and a dark hungry laugh escaped him. “You're joking.” Sunghoon has his own doubts but a woman as attractive as you can’t be a virgin right? No wonder you felt so tight around his fingers on that day.

“I'm not.” Jake's gaze burned into you. “All these years…you saved it. For who? For us?” The concept seemed to intoxicate him. “You saved yourself for us.” 

“No.” You choked out. “It's not like that.”

But they weren't listening. The revelation had flipped a switch, turning their cruel nostalgia into something ravenous, primal.

“Mine first.” Jake said, his voice leaving no room for argument. “I found her again.”

Sunghoon's jaw tightened, but he gave a curt nod. “Fine, but I get her after all. All of her.”

What followed was not a seduction. It was a reclamation. 

Jake dragged you, struggling weakly, to a bedroom dominated by a huge, low platform bed. He threw you onto it. The duvet was cool silk.

“Take off your clothes.” It was the same command from six years ago, but his voice was deeper, more sure.

When you didn't move fast enough, Sunghoon was there, his hands efficient and cold. He unbuttoned your blouse, popped the clasp of your bra. His thumb rubbed over your nipples, pinching them hard enough to make you cry out.

“Good.” Jake muttered, ripping off his sweater. His torso is carved, a testament to personal trainers and privilege. “So responsive.”

They both undressed and the sight of them–both fully erect, both solely focused on you–was paralyzing. This was planned, inevitable.

Jake climbed onto the bed, kneeling between your legs. He pushed them apart, his gaze fixed on the core of you. “Look at this. Untouched. All for me.”

He didn't kiss you. He didn't prepare you. He spat into his hand, slicked himself roughly and pushed the head of his cock against your entrance.

“Please.” You begged, tears streaming sideways into your hair. “Please, jake don't–”

He shoved in.

The pain was white-hot, tearing, a violation so complete it stole your breath. You screamed, a raw sound.

He stilled, buried inside you, a sheen of sweat on his forehead. His eyes were wide, dark with a frenzy of possession. “Fuck.” He breathed. “So fucking tight. All for me.” He began to move, shallow brutal thrusts that made you sob with each one.

Besides you, Sunghoon watched, stroking himself. He leaned over, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth, biting and sucking until it was sore and peaked. His hand replaced his mouth, pinching and twisting as Jake drove into you.

“That's it. That's it.” Jake grunted, his pace increasing. He was lost in it, in the conquest. “You're mine now. Really mine. My virgin. My girl.”

The pain began to morph, mixed with a treacherous, unwanted slickness your body produced out of sheer trauma. Jake groaned, feeling it.

“She's getting wet.” he panted to Sunghoon. “She likes it.”

“She knows her place.” Sunghoon agreed, his voice strained. He moved down the bed, pushing your legs wider apart from Jake. You felt his tongue, hot and flat, licking through the mess where Jake was joined to you. The intimacy of it, the degradation was a new low. You squeezed your eyes shut. 

“Look at me.” Jake ordered, grabbing your chin. “Look at me while I take what's mine.” 

You opened your eyes. His face was a mask of ecstatic ownership. He was close. His thrusts became erratic, pounding. 

“Gonna come inside you.” He gasped, “Gonna fill you up. Put my baby in you. Would you like that? Being the mother of my child? Having my money, my name, forever?” 

The words were a nightmare. You shook your head weakly.

“Too late.”He snarled, and with a final deep grind, he came. You felt the hot, foreign rush of him inside you, claiming you in the most fundamental way possible. He collapsed on top of you for a moment, his weight crushing, his breath hot on your neck.

He pulled out, rolling off. You were exposed, used, dripping. 

Before you could even process the emptiness, Sunghoon was moving. He pushed your limb legs apart.

“My turn.”

He didn't ask. He just pushed in. The stretch was different, another layer of violation. He was rougher, angrier, as if furious he hadn't been first. He fucked you with a punishing rhythm, one hand fisted in your hair, pulling your head back.

“You remember this, don't you?” he hissed in your ear. “you remember taking me in your mouth? You're taking me better now, Deeper.” 

Jake recovered beside you, his hand roaming over your stomach, your breasts. He seemed fascinated by the sight of a sunghoon moving inside you, by your complete submission. 

“Look at her.” Jake murmured, his fingers tracing the bite marks on your breast. “She's perfect.” 

Sunghoon's pace became frantic. He released your hair, his hand gripping your hips, slamming into you so hard that the bedframe knocked against the wall. 

“Gonna breed you too.” He grunted, a vicious echo of Jake. “Let you figure out which one of us is the father. Wouldn't that be fun?” 

He came with a choked shout, pumping into you, adding his release to Jake's already leaking from you.

Silence, broken only by their heavy breathing and your shattered sobs.

Sunghoon pulled out. You curl onto your side, a broken doll. The physical pain was deep, throbbing. The emotional devastation was absolute. 

Jake got up first. You heard the shower turn on, sunghoon stayed, his hand stroking your bare back, a mockery of aftercare.

“You did well.” He said, his voice back to its cool detached tone. “Better than high school.”

Jake returned, towel around his waist. He looked at you, a satisfied gleam in his eyes. “Get cleaned up. There's a guest bath down the hall.” 

You didn't move.

His expressions hardened. “Now, y/n  unless you want me to carry you.”

The use of your first name, now, after everything, was its own violation. You forced your battered body to move, clutching the silk sheet to your chest. You stumbled to the bathroom, locking the door. In the mirror, a stranger stared back–mascara smudged, lips swollen, neck and breasts mottled with bruises and bite marks. You were ruined.

When you emerged, wearing your torn clothes, they were in the living room, drinking whiskey. They looked like two kings after a successful hunt.

“You did well, love.” Jake’s voice was a soft purr as he strode toward you, making your breath hitch. He leaned down, his lips meeting yours in a mockery of a kiss. When you didn’t open your mouth, he bit your lower lip—sharp and insistent—forcing a gasp from you. His tongue slid inside, claiming your mouth with a slow, possessive sweep. It lasted only seconds, but it felt like hours, another violation dressed as affection.

He pulled back and stroked your cheek with his thumb, a gesture tender enough to make your stomach turn. It was the exact opposite of the way they had manhandled you just minutes before.

“A car will take you home,” Sunghoon said, not bothering to look at you as he straightened his cufflinks. “We’ll see you at the office. You’ll be taking the minutes.”

Just like that, you were dismissed.

You were ushered into the elevator, then back out into the night—a fundamentally changed person. The girl who had walked into that penthouse was gone. In her place was what they had made you: theirs.

[♡]

Monday morning you sat at your desk, every movement was a painful reminder. The high-necked blouse didn't quite cover the bruise on your neck. Jake strode out of his office, sunghoon at his side. They both paused by your desk. 

Jake dropped a small, velvet box next to your keyboard. “A little something for your….dedication,” he said, loud enough for nearby interns to hear. 

Inside was a pair of diamond studs, extravagant and cold.

Sunghoon leaned down, as if to examine them. His lips brushed your ear. “Wear them. So everyone knows who you belong to.”

He straightened up and looked at Jake. “So, the fertility center investment? I think it's a solid move. Growing market.”

Jake's eyes stayed on you, a small smile playing on his lips. “Absolutely. I'm very interested in…family planning. Long term Investments.”

They walked away, their laughter trailing behind them.

You looked down at the diamonds, then at the hospital bill on your screen–partially paid, with a new, zero-balance alert. The price was etched on your skin, in your body, on your soul.

You had escaped them once. This time, there was no graduation bell to save you. This time, the lesson was forever. You put the earrings in, the weight of them a permanent, glittering chain. 

heeseung was right beside you, one arm across your shoulder with that fond, slightly smug big–brother look. he nudged him with a tilt of his chin. “c’mon hoon, blow it out.” 

sunghoon scoffed lightly, but his gaze drifted back to you—inevitably—you. the way the candlelight danced across your face, the way you smiled at him on his big, special day. 

you nodded, glancing up to your husband, before your eyes landed back on him. “mmhm, make a good wish this year, hoonie.” you said softly, voice honey sisterly warm, the nickname curling around his ribs.

he swallowed.

he was twenty–two now, but he still felt eighteen whenever you looked at him like that.

he stepped closer.

the cake was balanced atop of your palms, the candle flames trembling between you. the heat kissed his cheeks and the cake smelled sweet, but it was nothing compared to the way your scent drifted up his nostrils. 

sunghoon tried to ignore heeseung’s thumb, rubbing slow circles on your shoulder. 

when he didn’t move for a second long, you hummed, nudging the cake closer. “come on, birthday boy,” you teased, tilting the cake a fraction closer towards sunghoon. this cake that you baked specifically for him… 

your fingers dusted in flour, every swirl of frosting shaped with that same soft, dainty hands that now held the cake steady for him. how many times did you taste the cream off your thumb just to get the vanilla right? and when you piped his name across the top in shaky blue icing, do you whisper his name out loud?

sunghoon–ah, 

the whole kitchen behind still smelled like warm sugar and vanilla because you’d left the oven light on for him. the candles trembled with every breath he took, wax dripping in tiny tears onto the frosting you’d smoothed, 

sunghoon leaned in—but his eyes locked on yours over the flickering candles. in that silent second, the room narrowed to just the two of you. the flames painted gold over your bitten lip,

he inhaled, slow, shaky, and closed his eyes.

i wish she wasn’t hyung’s wife—i wish i could kiss her, just once. i wish she wanted me as much as i want her. even if i can’t have her for myself forever, i wish heeseung hyung would let me have her without hating me after.

just once.

he blew. not in breath, but confession.

the air left his lungs—one by one the flames surrendered, leaning, stretching, then dying against the heat of his exhale until the last one clung for half a heartbeat longer. smoke curled between you and neither of you moved.

sunghoon wished that the goddess of the moon and hunting, artemis—the only deity he ever felt remotely aligned with—would look down through her silver veil and grant him the smallest mercy, no matter how taboo it is.

if artemis could govern chastity, then he disobeyed her with every heartbeat, because there was no purity left in the way he looked at you.

the first thing sunghoon saw when he opened his eyes was his wish. 

your bottom lip was still caught between your teeth, redder now, wetter. the tip of your tongue touched it and sunghoon’s fingers flexed at his sides. 

“did you make  a good wish?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper, soft enough that it felt like you were asking for something else. sunghoon didn’t answer right away, his throat was full of sin and the shape of your name.

he swallowed once, hard, and the sound was loud in his ears. 

“...yeah,” he rasped, eyes dropping to your mouth again, shameless. “the best one.”

you giggled, soft and breathy. sunghoon wished the candle smoke would curl and push your heads together into a kiss.

let me taste the wish before it burns out.

neither of you moved until heeseung’s hand landed warm and heavy between sunghoon’s shoulder blades, knocking the breath out of him with that brotherly pat that felt like a gavel. 

“alright, alright, i’m getting hungry,” heeseung laughed, oblivious to how things were looking in front of him. sunghoon fought back the urge to roll his eyes. “let’s eat before it gets cold.” 

the spell cracked—you blinked first, stepping back with the cake, smile polite again. “oh, yes! let’s eat before the cake melts.” 

sunghoon exhaled as heeseung steered him toward the table, fingers firm on the nape of his neck. a gesture meant to be affectionate, but all it did was remind sunghoon of every line he wasn’t supposed to cross.

“let’s go all out next year, okay hoon?”

you fed heeseung cake that night.

it’s sunghoon birthday.

his wish didn't come true that year. 

it hung invisible, waiting for the full three–hundred–sixty–five days to pass until he dared to ask the universe again.

——

07.12.2025

“what are we doing for hoonie’s birthday tomorrow?” you yawned, voice muffled against heeseung’s skin. the bedroom was dim, only the lamp on your bedside was still on. you curled against heeseung’s chest in one of his old t–shirts. 

“i was thinking maybe we could try that new steak place he likes, then come home for cake? i can make tiramisu.” 

heeseung’s fingers, which had been stroking your hair in slow lines, stilled. the tv drama’s dialogue was muffled. 

he didn’t answer right away but you felt it—the tiny shift in his breathing, the way his body tensed under your palm. you lifted your head, propping your chin on his chest. “hee baby?” 

finally, your husband looked down at you, eyes unreadable for a second, then exhaled through his nose like he was pushing a burden out. 

“baby,” he started, then stopped. heeseung moved his hand to brush your cheek. “do you remember when i first introduced you to my family?” he continued, voice dropping low.

you nodded, smiling at the memory. “of course!” you replied, shifting to lay on your stomach, your arms propping to support your weight. “mom and dad were so shy around me… and hoonie was so quiet the whole dinner.”

he huffed a soft laugh, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “yeah?”

“mmhm, makes me wonder where you get your personality from.” you teased, poking his chest lightly. heeseung’s mouth curved as he caught your finger and held it against his stomach, intertwining. 

“you know that night after dinner,” he hummed, eyes fixed on yours. “when you left the table to help mom with the dishes and you didn’t see hoon,”

you cocked your head lightly. “see him what?”

your husband’s thumb rubbed slow circles over your knuckles, his face unreadable. “sunghoon stayed behind for a second and i came back for my phone, and he was still sitting there, staring at nothing.” his voice dropped to barely a whisper.

“i asked him if he was okay and he looked up at me and his eyes were wet. he said, ‘hyung, your girlfriend is really, really pretty.’ that’s all, then he walked away.” 

your teasing smile faded a little, replaced with a confused look. “huh…? yeah, that’s just sunghoon to me,” you said softly, shrugging one shoulder. “he’s always been sweet like that. always tells me i look nice even when i’m not dressing up. always brings me little snacks when i’m studying, remembers every tiny things i say… that’s just how hoonie is.”

yeah—that’s the problem. heeseung bit down his lip.

his younger brother noticed when you cut your hair half an inch before heeseung did. sunghoon noticed the tiny scar on your knee that’s still there from when you were sixteen, asked about it once in the softest voice and then never again. 

sunghoon noticed you were on your period because you moved slower in the kitchen and he’d quietly take the heavy groceries from your hands without being asked. sunghoon noticed everything, memorised everything, asked you stories of you that let himself love you even more.

heeseung couldn’t believe he just watched it happen unknowingly.

right in front of his eyes, his wife wasn’t his alone. 

“no,” he murmured. “not really.”

you blinked. “what do you mean?”

heeseung took a slow breath, one hand ruffling his hair, the other squeezing your hand. “baby, he doesn’t just do that with anyone else. not with mom, not with his friends, not even with the girls who throw themselves at him. he even told you, right? all about them? how he’s not interested in any girls.” 

“only you. always only you.”

you nodded slowly, darting your tongue out to wet your lips. yeah… thinking about it again, sunghoon came more to you than he did to heeseung or his parents—always telling you stories: some model sliding into his dms, a junior at the rink asking him out, the daughter of his mom’s friend who won’t leave him alone. 

he’d tell you every detail, eyes flicking to your face every two seconds to see how you’d react. you used to think he just liked gossiping with his favourite ‘noona’—considering he doesn’t have an older sister of his own. 

but he never told heeseung any of it… never bragged to his hyung the way guys usually do. he saved every single one of those stories for you. waiting. 

waiting for you to look even a little bit jealous, giving him your attention.

a small, disbelieving laugh escaped you. “hee, come on. are you jealous? hoonie was literally nineteen! puppy crush at most.”

but your husband wasn’t as smiley as you were. he didn’t even look… jealous. instead, he shook his head, almost smiling, but it was the bittersweet, saddest smile you’d ever seen on him.

“no, sweetheart. he likes likes you,” heeseung sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “i saw his journal—” 

you shot upright so fast the blanket slipped off your chest. your eyes widened, and there’s a crease of tension between your brows. “you read his journal?!” you gasped, half–shocked, half–protective. you scrambled to sit with your knees folded underneath, facing him fully. 

“lee heeseung, that’s private! why would you go through his stuff? that’s not okay—”

“wait, wait, listen—” heeseung lifted himself, leaning against the headboard, palms toward you, trying to calm the sudden fire in your voice. “i didn’t go through it on purpose. he came home wasted, and left it open on the counter.” 

your husband sighed, gently taking your hands in his. “the page was literally staring up at me. i meant to close it, i swear, but… the first line i saw was my own name.”

you went very still.

“obviously i couldn’t… help it,” he murmured, voice drops into something of guilt. in heeseung’s defense—he had every right to read and see if it involved him, right? 

“entry since the first half of this year was almost about you. every single time he comes over, he’ll write it down. the way you laugh, the night you fell asleep on the couch and he—he sat on the floor just to be closer to your feet… he wrote that he hated himself for wanting you,”

his voice cracked.

“... and how he almost hated me for having you.”

the room felt suddenly airless. 

you swallowed. “he… he wrote all that?”

heeseung nodded once. of course that wasn’t all. heeseung left out the parts where sunghoon wrote that he jerked off to the mere sound of your voice greeting him, using the gifts you gave him as tools to pleasure himself, bought the same brand, the same shade of lipsticks as you own just to be closer to you.

you stared at your husband, confused and just… shocked. the same sunghoon who’s only a year younger than you, that you took care of like your own little brother… felt this way towards you all this while? 

you waited for the anger, the betrayal, the possessive flare in your husband’s eyes whenever another man even looked at you too long. 

but… it never came.

instead, heeseung slid his hand up your arm, gentle, reverent. 

“so tomorrow,” he breathed out, voice steady. “i’m going to give him what he’s been begging the universe for since he was nineteen.”

your whole body jerked. “what?” 

“i’m going to let him have you. one night. his birthday. just once.”

you scrambled back so fast your spine hit the headboard with a dull thud, the blanket tangled around your legs, knees drawing up to your chest. “are you out of your mind?” the words burst out sharper than you meant, cracking in the middle. 

“heeseung, what are you thinking?”

you stared at him, mouth open. your heart was slamming violently you could feel it in your throat. he’s joking. he has to be joking. this is some sick test and i’m about to fail it or pass it—god what’s happening? 

“listen to me—”

“no, are you insane? you want me to sleep with your brother?”

“i want him to stop hating himself, and me for wanting you,” he said, calm, too calm. “i want him to have one night where he doesn’t feel like the worst person alive for loving his sister–in–law. one night where he gets to touch you, gets to be with you,” he reasoned, looking just as serious.

“and once it’s over, we go back to normal.”

you frowned, shaking your head frantically. “normal? we won’t be normal. this isn’t some charity fuck, heeseung. he’s your—he’s practically my little brother too!” 

“it’s for sunghoon!” he cuts in, first crack in his composure. his brows drew together in something almost desperate. “don’t you get it? every day he wakes up, he thinks he’s disgusting, thinks he’s betraying me, betraying you, just for feeling. i’m not asking you to love him back the way he loves you—obviously, no, you’re my wife for god’s sake,”

your husband sighed, his head dropped low. he ran his hand through his locks, exhaling. “i’m asking you to just give him a chance.” heeseung crawled closer, cupping your face in both hands. “i love you, and i love him. i’m selfish enough to want both of you happy.” his thumb brushed the apple of your cheeks.

“it’s just for… less than a day. sunrise to sunrise. sunghoon gets to have the one thing he’s wished for, and then we’ll never speak of it.”

your eyes filled. maybe you could start seeing sunghoon as a man now, too. more than just a little brother. he’s turning twenty three, after all. 

you stared at your hands twisted in your lap. the guilt came in a wave so strong it stole your breath. you never noticed how carefully sunghoon was loving you… 

pressing your palms up to your eyes, you murmured, “...sunrise to sunrise?” you whispered, voice cracking. 

heeseung replied in a soft hum, pulling you closer to him until your head leaned against his chest. “mmhm. after that, it never happened. i swear.”

you nodded once, small and shaky, then again, firmer. 

“okay,” you breathed, the word tasting like bittersweet. “for hoonie.”

——

07.12.2025 

23:42

sunghoon let himself into the apartment with the spare key, shoulders sagging under the weight of college. he kicks off his shoes with a lazy push of his heel, back arching as he steps in the quiet apartment. 

the place is dark except for the faint city flow leaking through the blinds. no balloons, no banner, no off–key singing, no cake… just the faint hum of the fridge and air purifier and the soft click of the door behind him.

he doesn’t mind. twenty–three feels too old for surprises anyway. 

“twenty three,” he mutters to himself, tossing his keys in the bowl. “feels exactly like yesterday.”

he’s halfway to the kitchen for a glass of water when the hallway light flicks on. heeseung leans against the wall in sweatpants and an old hoodie, arms crossed, smiling that small smile. 

“happy birthday, hoon.”

sunghoon blinks, lips curling into a smile. “thanks, hyung.” he scratches the back of his neck, awkward and shy. “didn’t think anyone would still be up.” 

“i couldn’t sleep and was waiting,” heeseung shrugs, pushes himself off the wall and walks over, slow. “got something for you.”

sunghoon’s brows knit, a surprise look etched across his face. “...eh, it’s fine, really—”

“not optional.” he says, already pulling something from his pocket—

a strip of black satin. a blindfold.

sunghoon takes an instinctive step back. “hyung, what are yo—”

“relax,” the older brother’s voice is soft, steady, the same tone he used when sunghoon was fifteen and spiraling before a competition. “trust me for thirty seconds. it’s not weird.” he laughs when he sees sunghoon stiffens. 

“it is weird,” the younger boy counters, eyeing the blindfold with narrow eyes like it might just bite. his pulse kicks hard, suspicious and hopeful in equal measure. “why do you even own that?”

“you ask too much,” heeseung sighs, waving him off. “just trust me.” he steps behind him, fingers gentle as he ties the satin over sunghoon’s eyes—knot firm but not tight. just enough that he’s sure sunghoon can’t see anything.

“...this better not be some dumb prank…” sunghoon mutters, which heeseung ignores. 

“hands,” he says. sunghoon hesitates but holds them out anyway. heeseung takes his wrist, thumb brushing the frantic beat there, and starts walking. 

it’s hard not being able to see anything—just the thick, absolute black of the blindfold pressing against his eyelids. but he follows, heart hammering louder with every step. down the hallway, past the living room, up the stairs… 

the air changes into something more warmer and familiar—the faint scent of the vanilla candle you always burn in the bedroom. he almost smiles at that—does that mean you’re home? waiting for sunghoon and wanting to celebrate his birthday when the clock strikes 12?

sunghoon’s heart stumbles over himself.

the bedroom door creaks open, just wide enough for the warmth and the scent to spill out. sunghoon stands on the threshold, blind, nervous, only the smell of vanilla and the soft rustle of sheets accompanying him—something he can’t see, but can already feel waiting.

just then, heeseung’s fingers brush the knot at the back of sunghoon’s head. 

“happy birthday, hoon.” he says, voice dropping low and almost reverent—and pulls the blindfold away in a slow motion.

as expected, the room is dim, save for the bedside lamp glowing warm gold, but it’s enough.

his breath stops.

on the centre of his bed—there’s you. 

you’re kneeling in the middle of his bed, legs folded beneath, wearing nothing but one of his old white skating competition t shirt (so big it slips off one shoulder) and the tiniest pair of sleep shorts he’s ever seen. 

your hair is loose, a little messy like you’ve been waiting a while. in your hands in a small round cake, twenty–three candles flickering bright, throwing trembling light across your bare collarbone, your bare thighs, and the soft curve of your waist where the shirt rides up. 

you look nervous.

and so beautiful. 

and you look like every wish he’s ever swallowed.

he can’t move. his mouth opens, but nothing comes out. you bite your lip and whisper, 

“make a wish, hoonie.”

the cake trembles slightly in your grip. a single bead of wax rolls down a candle and drops onto frosting, right next to where you’ve written his name in shaky white icing. 

his eyes burn. he looks at the cake, then at you. then he glances at heeseung standing behind him, arms loose at his sides, watching with quiet, devastating certainty. then back at you, kneeling on his bed like you belong there.

sunghoon’s voice cracks when it finally comes.

“...what’s… what’s going on here…?”

heeseung’s hand settles warm between his shoulder blades, giving his little brother a little nudge forward. “just make a wish, hoon,” he murmurs. “she’s waiting.”

sunghoon’s legs move before his brain catches up. he climbs onto the bed, the mattress feels like it might dissolve under his knees. the sheets are warm from your body and he stops just inches from you, close enough to brush knees, close enough to feel the heat coming off the candles and your hands. 

your eyes are glassy, lips parted, chest rising too fast under his old shirt. sunghoon leans in, his exhale is long, shaky, reverent; more kiss than it is breath. every candle bows to him, flames stretching toward his mouth before they did one by one, smoke curling up between you like incense. 

the room falls into a hush—and for a moment, heeseung never existed.

“...i wished for you,” he whispers, voice raw. “every single year. i wished for you.”

your eyes spill over as sunghoon blows his candles. you set the cake aside with trembling hands, vanilla icing smearing on your fingertips that you don’t bother wiping away, and then both palms slide up his chest, until they cup his face.

sunghoon leans into your touch like a man dying of thirst finally reaching water.

pulling him in slowly, slowly, until his forehead rests against yours and your lashes brush his cheek.

“wish come true, hoonie,” you whisper against his lips, voice shaking with wonder.

then you kiss him. soft at first, just the brush of your mouth, testing, giving him time to pull away if this is still too much dream. 

he doesn’t.

a broken sound escapes his lips, and he kisses you back like he’s been waiting forever for this. his hands finally land, sliding to clutch the fabric of his own shirt at your waist to hold you down. 

the kiss deepens fast, desperate—years of silence pouring out all at once. you taste like vanilla and cherry lip balm at once, sweet, familiar, forbidden, but sunghoon drinks it all. his tongue slides against yours, slow at first, then hungrier, chasing every corner of your mouth he’s mapped in secret dreams.

when you make the tiniest, cutest whimper, he answers with a low, wrecked groan that vibrates against your lips. 

“hngh—hoonie,” you whimper meekly as one of his hands slips up your spine under his shirt, palm flat and burning against bare skin, pulling you flush so your chests crash together. the other fists tighter  in the fabric at your hip, bunching it higher. 

you tilt your head, opening wider, and he takes the invitation like a drowning man takes air, licking deeper, messy, needy, teeth grazing at your bottom lip the way he’s imagined a thousand guilty nights. 

your fingers thread into his hair, tugging just enough to make him shudder, and he pulls back barely an inch, panting against your swollen lips. 

“yn,” sunghoon rasps, voice shredded, forehead still pressed to yours. “‘m not going to call you noona because you’re not hyung’s wife tonight,” he fingertips presses against your skin, digging. the words scraping out from clawing at his throat. 

“tonight you’re mine. just mine.”

the possession in it steals your breath. 

you can only nod, small, frantic, pearls clinging to your lashes. 

he feels it, sees it. “say it,” he whispers, lips brushing yours with every syllable. “say you’re mine right now. say you’re my birthday gift and that you’re mine.” 

“i’m yours,” you say with almost no hesitation in your breath. “tonight, hoonie. i’m yours.”

08.12.2025

the sound he makes is relief and hunger all at once. 

sunghoon crashes back into you, kissing you like he’s trying to fuse your mouth—tongue stroking deep and slow, claiming every little breath. his hands slide up higher under the shirt and he’s able to take it off of you.

“hah, mhh, wait,” you moan as sunghoon’s palms skate over your ribs, cupping your tits. his thumbs brushes over your perky and hardened nipples—flicking them over his digits, groping and squeezing them until the flesh spills out between his fingers.

he can’t wait anymore—not when he’s waited way too long for this, far too long. 

you arch into him and he groans into your mouth, hips slotting instinctively between your thighs. “mine,” he repeats against your lips, again and again. “mine, mine, mine.” until the word loses meaning and becomes only the sound of his need.

sunghoon pushes you down, lowering until your back meets the mattress right beside the forgotten cake. the plate shifts, a few candles topple, frosting smearing against your forearm. you don’t care. neither does he. 

sunghoon follows you down, immediately groping your tits and clashing his mouth against yours. his knee nudges your legs wider, settling heavier, brushing against your clothed cunt that’s slowly getting wet with each passing second.

you both shudder—and only then does he finally pull back to breathe. 

the doorway is empty.

the room is silent except for your shared, ragged breathing.

heeseung is gone.

sunghoon’s eyes flick to the shut door, then back to you, wide and almost panicked. you cup his face, stilling him. “het left,” you whisper, thumb stroking the sharp line of his cheekbone. “it’s just us now.”

something in his face fractures in relief and disbelief. “just us,” he echoes, kissing you again. sunghoon’s hands travel from your tits down your waist until they find the waistband of your shorts. hooking his fingers beneath, he slides the fabric down in one smooth motion, exposing your bare wet cunt to the air.

you let out a soft gasp in his mouth, wrapping your arms around his neck. “oh my god,” you shudder, shivers run down your spine when sunghoon’s warm palm makes contact with your pussy. he slides his middle finger between your labia, gathering slickness. 

“you’re so wet,” he murmurs, nipping at the corner of your mouth, you hum and nod, back arching on the mattress. “‘m gonna make you feel good.” sunghoon continues, sliding his middle finger inside, stretching your opening.

your breath catches in your throat—his finger is slender and nice, dragged along your velvety walls as he pumps you knuckles deep. “hngh—mh,” you moan, sunghoon adding another finger inside when he feels you’re nicely stretched. 

he thrusts his fingers back and forth, finding that gummy, sensitive spot inside. “you’re so tight, yn,” he grunts, curling his fingers as your walls spasm around his digits. sunghoon presses his fingerpad against that spot, rubbing and putting pressure. “so cute, fuck, so cute. all mine,” 

his lips find yours once again, muffling your moans and whimpers and cries as he increases his speed in fingering you. you buck your hips into his palm, grinding and fucking yourself on his fingers. the burning sensation is beginning to pool in your tummy—and anytime now, you might cum.

“are you close? you’re close aren’t you? i can feel you getting sensitive.” he murmurs, rolling his thumb around your clit to stimulate you. you nod, eyes rolling and fluttering beneath your skin. his fingers are deep inside—he’s so skilled with where’s touching and how he’s thrusting. 

you tug on his bottom lip, sucking it. “‘m close, please please please, wanna cum,” you plead, overstimulated and sensitive. the end of his lips curls into a smirk, sunghoon swallows your pleads and whimpers, wiggling his fingers.

your fingers dig into the back of his neck in pleasure—not being able to contain it anymore. “can i cum—? hoonie, please? please, oh god,” you beg, tears brimming in your eyes. the wet squelching nose is almost too embarrassing—

a married woman who’s obviously not a virgin, begging and leaking juices like a virgin around her brother in law’s fingers. 

sunghoon nods, rolling his tongue around yours, pumping your pussy full of merely his fingers. falling into the submission, your thighs tremble—releasing your creamy orgasm and squirt on sunghoon’s hand. 

you moan his name aloud, pulling him flushed against your chest. “oh my god, ‘m cumming, ‘m cumming!” you whimper, tears spilling out along your flushed cheeks. sunghoon keeps his fingers inside, giving it a few more thrusts before sliding his digits out. 

panting, you release your grip around sunghoon’s neck and fall back down on the bed with a soft thud, wiping the sweat off your face with the back of your hand. sunghoon pants, his fingers glistening with your love juice.

slowly, you prop yourself up on your elbows. sunghoon’s eyes track every inch of exposed, pupils blown wide. you don’t say anything, just press one palm to the center of his chest and push. 

sunghon falls back against the pillow, breath punching out of him in a stunned rush. the cake plate wobbles dangerously on the bed; a candle rolls off and lands flat on the cream. still warm. 

he doesn’t even flinch. 

“my turn…” you murmur, settling to kneel between his legs. you lean down until your cheek brushes against the tent poking out from underneath his sweats. “to give you your birthday present.” you press a soft, open-mouthed kiss right to the tip, lips lingering, letting him feel your breath, the wet warmth of your mouth even through the fabric.

his breath shudders, caught in his throat. sunghoon almost can’t believe it. the only thing he’s been wanting for so long is finally here in front of him—guilty midnight fantasy after another, is kneeling between his legs right now, looking up at him like he’s allowed to have this.

his hips jerked involuntarily. 

“yn…” his voice cracks on your name, raw and pleading. “please—”

you hook your fingers into the waistband of his sweats and tug, slow, deliberate, watching his face the entire time. “please what, hoonie?” 

“please suck me off…”

blood rushes to his cheeks fast—shame and flustered all at once. biting his bottom lip, sunghoon lifts his hips to help you take his pants off. you chuckle, momentarily, you almost forget that sunghoon is still a boy younger than you.

your eyes widen—his throbbing cock springs free, flushed and leaking, casting shadow over your face. your lips part, a gasp escapes your lips.

sunghoon is… big. bigger than you’ve ever seen before. bigger than your husband…

you can tell it’s been painful down there from the way his cock twitches in the air, a low hiss elicited out of sunghoon every time he shifts. “hoonie…” you mouth, slowly wrapping your hands around the base. 

he's thick, the perfect length, with a slight upward curve that you just know will feel heavenly inside you.

the boy grunts, fingers curling around the bedsheet. “h—hngh, fuck,” he breathes as you begin pumping his shaft with however much your dainty hands can do. “you’re so big…” you murmur, leaning closer and darting out your tongue to give him a few kitten licks.

your tongue flicks over the slit, where you scoop the precum into your mouth. he’s a little salty, you figure it’s from the hours of studying. but good, real good. sunghoon let out a ragged breath, his hands itching to hold your head.

“b—bigger than… anyone…?” he manages. he wanted to ask if it’s bigger than heeseung, but that probably wouldn’t be nice. 

you nod, slowly wrapping your lips around the of his hard cock, looking up to him through your curled lashes—watching the way his breath hitches when your mouth engulfs his cock. “uh huh,” you reply, rolling your tongue across the tip to lick clean his precum before bobbing your head back and forth on his cock. 

his hips jerk in arousal, and his hand comes up to brush your hair off your face. sunghoon wants to see the girl of his dreams’ face as she gives him a head. “ah, shit,” he hisses. your cheeks hollow as you work on sucking him deeper, taking him into your mouth as you go. 

his pulse throbs against your tongue, your hand pumping and jerking the base that you can’t seem to fit in your mouth. sunghoon helps you by slowly thrusting his hips shallowly into your mouth, making your eyelids flutter. 

“slow, slow—fuck, there you go… take it all.” he encourages, thumb drawing circles the top of your head as he subtly pushes it down.  your mouth stretching dangerously around his thickness. you still can’t believe he’s been hiding this package all this while… 

sunghoon groans as he tangles his fingers in your hair and guides his cock in and out of your mouth, allowing you to swirl your tongue around his manhood. you continue to move your hand down on his balls, rolling them between your fingers.

he’s melting under your touch…”f—feels so good. your mouth feels so good, yn,” he feels himself twitch on your tongue. your name—just by itself—still feels foreign on his tongue. but if it’s not tonight that he can call you that, he might never will again.

sunghoon bucks his hips forward, faster and faster at his own pace, hands gripping your hair, but it’s not tight. you feel the tip hits the back of your throat, causing you to gag and roll your eyes behind. 

not like you care, not when sunghoon looks so pleasured, hissing and eyes half lidded. he’s making a mess out of you—tears streaming down your face, drool smearing around your mouth, hair frizzing up from his grip. 

still the most beautiful girl in his eyes.

“s—sorry, sorry,” he whines, heat rushes to his cheeks. his head tips back against the bedrest as he holds your head still and uses your mouth for leverage as he fucks your throat, balls tighten at every gag. “think ‘m close, yn, ‘m close,” 

you nod and digs your nails into his skin, lolling and rolling your tongue around the length. “mmhm—?” you hum, looking up to sunghoon who has his lips part slightly, breathing shallow in uneven rhythms. you can see the tension in his jaw. 

he would’ve never guessed that your mouth is so warm and slippery.

“ah—ah, here it comes, here it comes!” his thrusts become sporadic—stuttering as he feels the pressure building up. sunghoon groans—thick ropes of cum spurts inside your mouth, down straight past your throat and into your tummy.

he throws his head back in ecstasy to catch his breath, slowly releasing his grip on you. his body shudders in the aftershock of his orgasm, hips jerking to thrust. it’s overwhelming—the amount of semen he can produce. 

you screw your eyes shut as you swallow as much as you can, only pulling back once you feel his cock softening on the surface of your tongue. “hah—” you pant, tongue sticking out. even so, you lean down to clean him off—sucking and licking and kissing all over his sensitive cock.

sunghoon whines from the overstimulation, red and flushed across his face. he feels like he falls in love with you all over again…

“how was it, birthday boy?” you chuckle, using your thumb to wipe the corner of your lips before sucking it. “good?” you tilt your head innocently as if you didn’t just raise his standards in women—looking so pretty and cute and his. 

the birthday boy swallows the lump in his throat, nodding. “y—yeah! it’s so…” he exhales. “it’s amazing… y—you’re amazing… “ he mumbles, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. you giggle, crawling up between his legs, supporting yourself on either side of him.

pecking his lips, you rub your nipples on his clothed chest, whispering warmly on his lips. “what’s your next wish?”

sunghoon’s throat bobs as he whimpers, chasing your lips. “... i wanna fuck you, yn,” he manages, kissing you. “i wanna put my cock inside you, and make you my woman tonight.” 

before you can ever draw breath to answer, his hands clamp around your forearms and he flips you in one frantic motion. your back hits the mattress again, right beside the slightly ruined cake; frosting smears across your shoulder blade, sticky and almost cold. the topple candle rolls against your wrist.

“ah—!” you gasp, looking up to him with wide eyes. sunghoon follows instantly, settling heavy and perfect between your thighs, chest heaving with want. “please,” he pleads, licking around his lips. 

he’s so horny, it hurts—you smile, nodding. however the birthday boy wants you, he can have you. it’s his special day, after all. “c’mon, what are you waiting for?” you tease, giggling. his eyes widen and his grin brightens.

not wasting a single second, sunghoon adjusts his position so your legs are propped up on either side of his hips. “don’t take back what you said,” he’s getting more comfortable now about the whole situation of fucking his brother’s wife.

he wraps his hand around his cock and positions the head at your entrance, not quite entering yet—but you feel the head of his cock just stretching you open. “please have me…” he slowly slides his cock inside, stealing the breath out of you. 

in the best way possible—sunghoon is slowly filling you up. it doesn’t burn like your first time, and you thank god you’re not a virgin because this will be impossible to take… “a—ah! hngh—?” you gasp, breath come short and fast while sunghoon takes his sweet time stretching you out and feeling the sensation as your warm pussy invites him in.

“o—oh god,” he grunts, finally reaches his end—the tip of his cock nestles perfectly where it belongs against the door of your womb. “so tight, yn, you’re so tight,” he groans, length disappearing into your depths. 

you shift, walls spasming around his cock to adjust yourself around him. he’s so big, it’s crazy how full you get—like how you’d get after stuffing yourself. “n—no, hoonie, i think—i think you’re just s’big,” you whine, toes curling. 

after he’s sure he’s safe to move, sunghoon begins thrusting—snapping his hips forward in slow rhythm. you both almost cry at the sensation. “so good, so good,” he murmurs, leaning forward and moving your legs over his shoulder to catch your lips as he begins to pound into you.

you wrap your arms around his neck, meek whimpery moans escape your lips each time his head knocks your cervix. it doesn’t take rough fucking to feel good—the drag of his cock against your velvety walls pull you back, and you tighten around him.

sunghoon moans your name sensually, sucking on your tongue as his drool slips inside your mouth. his cock pumps into your cunt, rapidly picking up speed as his balls slap against the curve of your ass. “h—hah! hoonie, like that, like that!” you cry out, tits bouncing with each thrust.

that excites sunghoon—he pulls back to look down at you. you’re wrecked beneath him, beautiful, ruined, perfect. your hair fanned wild across his sheet, lips swollen and cherry–red from his teeth, rosy cheeks streaked with tears and fresh ones still clinging to your lashes. 

your eyes are glassy, shining up at him like he’s the only one in the universe. there’s vanilla smeared across one shoulder from the cake, a faint pink mark blooming on your throat. 

he groans, low and broken. “hah—look at you,” he rasps. one trembling hand comes up cradling your jaw, thumb sweeping over your wet cheek. “so pretty, so pretty.” 

his hips roll, dragging almost all the way out before sinking himself back in, watching your face twist with every inch. your back arches off the bed, a soft, wrecked sound spilling from your lips. 

just then, his eyes flick to the birthday cake next to you. 

“oh…” he murmurs, licking his lips. come to think of it, he hasn’t eaten at all since he came back minutes ago. “can’t let this cake go to waste. you’ve worked so hard for it, hm?” sunghoon continues.

he scoops a generous dollop of the soft vanilla onto two fingers, brings it to his mouth, and licks it clean with one slow swipe of his tongue, eyes locked on yours the whole time. the sound you make if half whimper, half in confusion. 

before you can ask him what’s he doing—he digs his fingers back in, gathering a thick smear of frosting, and drags it flow across your chest—from the hollow of your throat down to the valley of your tits. painting you in sticky, sugary buttercream. you gasp at the cool shock of it, arching instinctively. 

“hah—!” you gasp, lips parting. the vanilla smell instantly hits you. 

he lowers his head, eyes still on yours—”i will eat well,” he says, licking a broad, filthy stripe straight through the mess he just made, tongue flat and hot against your skin. the contrast of the cool frosting and burning mouth makes your hips jerk up against him and your pussy tightens around his cock.

he groans, deep in his chest. sunghoon doesn’t swallow the frosting, instead, he wraps his lips around your perky little nipple, circling until it’s shining and ruined and completely covered with frosting. 

so lewd—! you think, heat coiling in your tummy. you’ve never done such things before—not even with heeseung! there’s almost no foreplay in your sex with your husband… but this… this… 

sunghoon digs his fingers deeper into the ruined cake this time, scooping up a thick chunk of soft vanilla sponge along with the frosting—before smearing over the other tit, pressing the moist cake into your skin until it crumbles and sticks, bright crumbs clinging to the slop of your tit, frosting sliding in streaks.

“sunghoon!” you gasp as he flattens his palm, smashing the cake down against the soft flesh, fondling you with slick, sticky fingers—kneading until the tit and vanilla and sponge are one messy, decadent, sweet swirl. 

his thumb finds your nipple through the mess, flicking once, twice, hard little flicks that make you jolt and whimper. 

“hold still,” he murmurs, voice muffled around your tit in his mouth. “let me eat my cake properly.” 

his tongue lapping broad and hungry, gathering cake and frosting and you in filthy strokes. he sucks hard, cheeks hollowing, teeth grazing to make you cry out. crumbs cling to his lips; vanilla smears across his cheek when he switches to the other breast—licking, biting, devouring until your tits are nothing but heat and sugar and his saliva.

sunghoon pulls off with a wet pop, lips swollen and glossy and he’s beaming. 

sugar rush.

“sweetest thing i’ve ever tasted,” he rasps, diving back. the friction from his dick slamming into your pussy fills the bedroom up with wet noises, the mattress shaking beneath. it’s embarrassing and you pray that it doesn’t wake up your neighbours…

your pussy tightens in rhythm around his twitching cock as pushes his cock all the way in. “more, more—oh my god, i’m close!” you squeak, sliding your heat up and down against his abdomen. sunghoon holds you by your hips as he pounds his cock almost brutally, tugging your nipple between his teeth.

“fuck, you’re so tight—oh shit,” he heaves exasperatedly—digging his fingertips in your hips, thumbs pressing into your flesh. you moan aloud, walls pulsing around him and his own movements become more erratic. “cake—cake, hoonie, i want the cake too,” you whimper, hands above your head.

sunghoon pulls back, chest heaving, lips and chin completely smeared with vanilla. he catches the hungry little flick of your tongue over your own bottom lip and his eyes light up, bright, boyish, almost giddy.

“yeah?” he breathes, already scooping up another messy handful of cake and frosting. “you want some too?”

you nod, quick and shameless, and he grins—before bringing his vanilla coated fingers to your mouth.

you open your mouth instantly. sunghoon slides two fingers past your lips, letting you taste the warm sponge and rich frosting and the faint salt of his skin all at once. your tongue curls around his fingers, sucking gently, and the sound he makes is wrecked. 

“good girl,” he whispers, voice shaking. 

he scoops more, feeds you again, watching with dark, fascinated eyes as your lips close around you like how you did with his cock earlier. when a crumb clings to the corner of your mouth, he leans in and kisses it away, sharing the sweetness. 

some of it misses—vanilla is now also smearing across your cheek and chin/ neither of you care; trading bites, messy and laughing softly between kisses, feeding each other with your lips.

when you finally break apart, foreheads pressed together, both of you are a beautiful disaster. 

his arms snake under you to pull your body into him as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck—hips thrusting recklessly in no steady rhythm at all. every drag of his cock against your velvety walls hits the same, spongy swollen spot over and over, knocking and bruising your cervix. 

“‘m cumming again, hoonie! i wanna cum on your cock—please,” you whimper, head tilting back against the sheet, thighs quaking around his hips. you move your hands to claw your nails on his broad shoulders, cradling him close, pistoning to drag him even deeper inside. 

he nods, breath coming in harsh pants. “i’m going to fill you with my cream—hm? leave you stuffed with my cum,” his hips slam forward, head of his cock bullying your walls.

the pleasure is so intense—you can’t hold it in anymore.

“hoonie—!” your body tenses up as the orgasm washes over you like waves—explosive around his cock sliding in and out of you. your muscles clench and clamp around his throbbing cock as you cream on it. 

the contracting walls of your tight cunt sent sungchan over the edge as well. “yn! fuck!” he moans, snapping his hips against you, hard and deep, in one final powerful lurch. sunghoon shoots out ropes of thick, warm semen inside—pumping and coaxing every last drop of his lovemilk inside.

you whimper and whine as your body shudders, hips twitching. your pussy pulses through the orgasm as sunghoon collapses onto you with a shuddering breath, the last of his release spilling deep as his hips slow to lazy thrusts.

you’re trembling beneath—fucked, worn out, sticky from the sweat, saliva, and the cake—pussy walls fluttering weakly around him with every tiny shift. your fingers stayed on his back, hugging him as sunghoon buries his face into the crook of your neck.

“you’re perfect… fuck,” he says, leaving butterfly kisses along the the curve of your neck where it meets the shoulder. you hum, lips brushing over his ear shell. 

the room was quiet, save for the soft sound of both your breathing, his fingers brushed lazy circles against your lower back. “do you like it?” you asked softly, even though you know your answer well.

sunghoon exhales, nodding. “i love it a lot, yn,” he replies, unintentionally leaving a love bruise across your skin. even if whatever it was that happened ends tonight—at least he’s sure something will still be there the next morning. 

“this is the best birthday gift ever,” he continues, whimpering, pressing his weight lightly on top of you to feel your nipples grazing against his’.

“i can’t wait to wish for the same thing next year.”