Nishirikss

the days had stretched long and heavy, each hour feeling like its own reckoning as you drifted through your apartment in a haze of unspoken thoughts and unanswered questions. your phone had remained flipped face down on your nightstand, untouched, except for the few times you’d picked it up only to stare at the screen before putting it right back down. the flowers from heeseung were wilted in their vase now, a quiet reminder of everything you thought you understood and everything that had unraveled right in front of you. you hadn’t cried—not yet—but your chest ached in that particular way where it felt like you were about to at any given moment, like your emotions sat just behind your ribs, waiting to spill. the silence of your room made it worse, every creak of the wood floor or passing car outside pulling you deeper into the loop of memories you didn’t ask to relive. each of their faces haunted you in fragments—sunoo’s soft voice, jake’s trembling hands, jungwon’s gentle kiss, niki’s teasing smirk—like echoes of something you’d convinced yourself was just content. except now it didn’t feel like content. now it felt like your heart had been split seven ways and you had no idea how to hold it together.

“i couldn’t have been so naive to this,” you breathe, voice trembling with quiet disbelief as your hands knot together in your lap, the fabric of your blanket crinkling beneath your fingers. your gaze stays locked on a spot near the edge of your comforter, eyes unfocused, as though the right words might appear there if you just stared long enough. “i should’ve known—should’ve picked up on something.” your voice breaks slightly as you shake your head. “there had to be signs. i just… i didn’t expect it at all.” the memory of their faces—shocked, unreadable, too familiar in one room—plays in a loop behind your eyes, muddling together into something far more overwhelming than anything you’d prepared for. the air still feels heavy with that moment, even now, days later, like it’s lingering in your lungs. it’s not just the realization that they all knew each other. it’s the fact that no one said anything—that they let you walk blindly into it, moment after moment, lie after silence, until it was too late to turn back.

nari sits beside you on the bed, her presence steady, warm, grounding in the way she always manages to be. her hand is wrapped around yours, thumb stroking the back of your palm in slow, thoughtful circles, and you can feel her watching you carefully. “it’s okay,” she says quietly, her tone free of judgment, but full of understanding. “you’re not wrong for feeling this way, y/n. none of this is your fault.” the way she says it—so certain, so kind—makes your throat tighten, and you swallow hard against the emotion rising in your chest. your shoulders feel tense, your heart bruised with confusion and embarrassment and something more painful that you still haven’t dared to name. you glance at her with tired eyes, trying to muster some kind of composure, but she sees through it immediately. she always does. “you just got caught in something way bigger than you thought it was,” she adds. “and that’s not on you.”

you let out a shaky sigh and pull your hand away, dragging it through your hair in one long, slow motion, fingertips catching on a few tangled strands. “i don’t even know how to feel about it all,” you whisper, your voice low. “they all acted like it was just us, like each moment was… i don’t know, ours—but they were hiding something. and i guess i was too, in a way.” your words start to unravel, slipping out of your mouth faster than you can catch them, and you pause to breathe before continuing. “and the worst part is, i can’t even say i regret it. i meant every moment. i wanted all of it.” you close your eyes, overwhelmed by the weight of that truth. “and now i don’t know if that makes me stupid, or just… human.”

“what are you planning to do now?” nari asks gently after a pause, her voice tentative but curious, knowing better than to push too hard. “do you feel the same way about all of them… or is there one who stands out?” the question lands softly, but it echoes like a drumbeat in your chest, and you stare at her, your lips parting—but no sound comes out. you shift uncomfortably on the bed, your thoughts a tangled mess of memories and sensations and words left unsaid. each boy left something behind in you—heeseung with his gentle reverence, jay with his quiet intensity, jake with the warmth that lingered after every touch, sunghoon with the sharp tension that never quite released. and then there was sunoo, vibrant and teasing and soft in a way that made you feel seen. jungwon with his eager devotion, like you were something sacred in his eyes. niki with that careful confidence, that push-and-pull that sparked something in you you hadn’t even realized was there.

you can’t choose. you don’t want to choose. but you also don’t know if walking away is any easier.

“i don’t know,” you finally whisper, your voice hoarse with emotion. “i loved filming with each of them. the connection felt real every single time. and i know that’s why this hurts so much.” you bring your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them as you rest your chin on top. “but right now, i can’t make sense of how i feel. i’m not ready to face any of them. not yet.” the silence that follows is full of tension, not awkward, but full—pregnant with unspoken fear, longing, and the ache of being pulled in too many directions at once.

nari doesn’t speak right away. she just reaches over and rests her hand on your back, her touch warm through the thin fabric of your shirt. “then don’t,” she says simply. “not until you’re ready. but when that moment comes… talk to one of them. start somewhere.” she gives you a small smile, one laced with gentle encouragement. “you don’t have to figure it all out at once, y/n. just… don’t run from it forever.”

and for the first time in days, you don’t argue.

the rain had started sometime in the late afternoon, a quiet drizzle tapping against your windowpane as you curled deeper into your blankets, your conversation with nari still echoing in the quiet corners of your mind. she’d left a few hours ago, giving your hand one last squeeze and promising you time, space, and a judgment-free shoulder if you needed it. you hadn’t moved much since. everything still felt knotted inside of you—your thoughts, your guilt, your confusion—tightening around your ribs like a drawstring pulled too tight. you hadn’t heard the doorbell at first, not over the low hum of your fan or the scattered rainfall outside, but the second knock made your heart leap into your throat. you pulled yourself upright, hesitating at the mirror to smooth your hair, though your hands shook a little with the movement. the hallway light felt too bright as you stepped toward the door, your breath caught in your chest as your fingers curled around the knob and twisted. when the door creaked open, your body stilled, stunned—because there, standing outside of the door with damp curls sticking to his forehead and his hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie, was jungwon, eyes wide like he didn’t believe he was really here either.

the sight of you—wrapped in a loose hoodie with sleep-tousled hair and eyes slightly puffy from crying—makes his breath catch in his throat as if he’s forgotten how to speak. the two of you just stare at each other for a moment, silence stretching and folding between you, the sound of soft rain falling and the warmth of your apartment curling behind you like two separate worlds. “hi,” he says finally, his voice gentle but tight at the edges, and when you don’t respond right away, just blink at him like he’s not real, he shifts awkwardly on his feet. “i… didn’t know if i should come,” he admits, glancing down as if afraid to meet your eyes again, “but i couldn’t stop thinking about you—about what happened.” your hand lingers on the doorknob, knuckles white, chest rising in slow, shallow breaths as you try to make sense of the mess of emotions clawing up your throat—shock, anger, guilt, and something softer beneath it all. “jungwon…” you breathe, finally finding the word, but nothing else comes with it, because he’s here and it’s overwhelming and all-consuming, and the ache you thought you’d buried is suddenly back in full force. his lashes flutter when you say his name, like it touches something delicate in him, and he nods once, then looks past you like he’s unsure if he’s allowed to cross the threshold. “can i come in?” he asks quietly, and there’s something in the way he says it—tentative, respectful, but laced with longing—that makes you step back without thinking, letting the door swing wider as he steps inside, into the space that’s felt too quiet without him.

you close the door behind him gently, the quiet click echoing louder than expected in the small space, and for a moment neither of you move. jungwon stands in the middle of your living room like he’s unsure whether he belongs there, hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie as his eyes slowly scan the room before settling back on you. “i thought maybe seeing you would help me understand how i feel,” he admits softly, his voice barely above a whisper, like he’s afraid saying it too loud might scare you off. “but now that i’m here, i think i’ve always known.” the words make your heart stutter, and you find yourself slowly crossing the room, arms folding loosely over your chest like a shield you’re not sure you want to keep up. “why did you come, jungwon?” you ask, and the question doesn’t carry anger, only a tired sort of sadness, the kind that lingers after too many nights spent thinking in circles. he looks up at you then, really looks at you, and something about the way his eyes soften breaks something open inside you.

“because i miss you,” he says simply, but there’s so much weight packed into those three words that you feel your breath catch in your chest. “not just what we did. i miss how you made me feel—like i was important, like you saw something in me that no one else does.” the words hit you like a wave, crashing against the wall you’ve been trying so hard to keep standing, and you press your fingers into your arm to ground yourself, to remind yourself this is real. jungwon takes a small step closer, testing the distance like he’s not sure how far he’s allowed to go, and his voice grows softer, more vulnerable. “it was my first time… all of it. not just physically, but feeling this way about someone—this… deep, gnawing thing that hasn’t left me since i met you.” your throat tightens, fingers twitching at your side, unsure whether to reach for him or protect yourself. “you don’t have to say anything,” he adds quickly, misreading the silence as rejection, “i just needed you to know.”

“you don’t understand how complicated this is,” you murmur, the emotion thick in your throat as your gaze drops to the floor, unable to meet his for too long. “i didn’t expect any of this—i didn’t know it would get so messy.” jungwon nods slowly, and you watch the way his brows pull together, how he chews the inside of his cheek like he’s trying to find the right words. “i know,” he says, voice barely audible, “and i wish i could fix it for you. i’d take it all away if it meant you’d stop hurting.” the gentleness in his voice makes your stomach twist painfully, and for a moment you want nothing more than to step forward, to bury yourself in his warmth and let him hold all the pieces you’ve been too afraid to share. “it’s just… hard,” you whisper, more to yourself than to him, and his eyes flicker with something fierce, something aching and patient all at once.

he steps closer again, now just an arm’s length away, and you can see every detail of his face—the tiny scar above his brow, the redness in his eyes, the quiet desperation in the way his lips part but hesitate. “i don’t want to lose you,” he says finally, voice cracking at the edges, “even if it means waiting, even if it means watching you figure everything out.” your breath hitches, and the room suddenly feels smaller, warmer, like the air itself has thickened around you. “i’m not asking you to choose,” he adds, almost as if reading your mind, “i just want you to know that for me… it was never just a video.” your heart aches, the confession echoing through every bone in your body, and you finally look up at him again, eyes glistening with everything you’ve been holding in.

jungwon’s eyes widen slightly when he sees the way your lips part, the way your breath trembles, and it’s like he wants to reach for you but stops himself out of respect. “you don’t have to love me,” he whispers, “but please… don’t shut me out.” his voice is so raw, so open, that it slices right through you, and you don’t realize your fingers are trembling until you clench them into fists to stop the shake. “i’m scared,” you confess for the first time, your voice as soft as the rain tapping against the window, “because i felt something with you too, and that’s the part that terrifies me.” the honesty hangs there between you, bare and unfiltered, and jungwon’s expression shifts into something painfully tender.

he nods, slow and understanding, and finally takes the last step toward you, close enough that his fingers could graze yours if either of you moved. “then let me be scared with you,” he murmurs, “we don’t have to figure it all out tonight.” your chest swells, eyes stinging, and for a moment all you can do is breathe him in—his scent, his warmth, the fragile hope wrapped around his words. “i don’t know what’s going to happen,” you admit, “but i don’t want to pretend like it meant nothing either.” his lips curve into the faintest smile, eyes shining as he whispers, “then that’s enough for me.” and in the quiet that follows, as you stand inches apart, you realize that maybe—just maybe—you don’t have to carry this alone anymore.

jungwon’s gaze dips to your lips for just a second—barely a flicker—but it’s enough to set off a rush of heat through your entire body, soft and slow and consuming. you don’t move right away, your breath shallow as your eyes search his face, every inch of him brimming with something that looks dangerously close to hope. your fingers twitch at your side before reaching up on instinct, brushing lightly against the edge of his hoodie sleeve, just enough to ground yourself in the moment. “come here,” you whisper, the words barely audible but enough to have him lean forward, hesitantly, like he still doesn’t believe you’ll let him. but you do—you meet him halfway, your hand curling at the base of his neck as your lips press gently into his, warmth spilling from the point of contact like it’s been waiting to ignite all along.

he kisses you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear—slow at first, almost cautious, his hand moving to your waist with such care it makes your chest ache. you press in closer, your free hand resting over his chest where his heart is racing, its rhythm frantic beneath your touch. the kiss deepens naturally, growing hungrier without losing its tenderness, the kind of kiss that says too much without needing words. jungwon sighs softly against your lips, like he’s finally breathing for the first time in days, and you feel the way his shoulders drop as your touch pulls him in. your thumb brushes along the side of his jaw, feeling the way it tenses slightly under the emotion threatening to spill out of him. his hand curls tighter around your waist, not possessive, just needing—just wanting to be close to you without letting it slip away too soon.

when you pull back just slightly, lips parted and noses still brushing, his eyes are already glassy, a soft pink blooming high on his cheeks as he exhales through a quiet laugh. “that was…” he starts, but the words falter, and he just shakes his head gently, a crooked, lovesick smile curving at his lips. “yeah,” you breathe, matching his energy, forehead resting gently against his as you close your eyes for a moment, letting yourself feel everything at once. he doesn’t rush the silence, doesn’t push for anything more—just lets the weight of what just passed between you settle into the stillness of the room. his thumb strokes a slow line along your waist, and you swear you could fall apart just from the way he holds you, like you’re the only person who’s ever mattered. “i could stay like this forever,” he mumbles, voice thick, and your heart twists painfully in your chest because you know you can’t promise that just yet.

—

this day already felt lighter than the one before, the air in your apartment somehow less heavy, your thoughts no longer as fogged and chaotic. after everything that had happened, the silence, the tension, the messy unraveling of all the truths you didn’t ask to know—you found yourself carrying a bit more clarity today. jungwon’s visit the night before had stirred something in you, grounding you in a way you hadn’t expected. it made you realize that you were allowed to take your time, to breathe, to feel all of it at once without rushing toward a decision. so maybe it was that small pocket of peace that gave you the courage to reach out to heeseung—the first.

he was the one you’d started everything with, the one who made you feel wanted before you even understood what you were diving into. it felt right to face him now, with more steadiness in your chest and a little less fear. the memory of the bouquet he once gave you still lingered in your room—its colors now dulled, petals soft and scattered across the surface of your nightstand, a quiet reminder of something that bloomed fast and never really faded. 

the knock on your door comes soft but sure, drawing you gently out of your thoughts. you push yourself off the couch, the floor cool beneath your feet as you walk to the door with your heart pressing steadily in your chest. when you open it, there he is—tall and striking in the glow of the late afternoon sun, his pinkish hair styled just the way you remember it, though maybe a little softer now. his eyes meet yours, a glint of something hopeful flickering in them as he lets out a breath.

“hi, princess…” he says, the petname falling from his lips like it had been waiting all this time, tucked away just for this moment. you feel the weight of it settle warmly in your chest.

“hi,” you respond, voice gentle as you step aside to let him in. “come in.”

he steps in slowly, his eyes scanning the apartment like he’s cataloging the changes, like he’s trying to trace where he used to stand, where you used to sit, where it all began. he moves with quiet reverence, shoulders rising slightly with each breath, and you watch the way his hand brushes down the side of his jeans as if he needs something to do, somewhere to place the nervous energy building between you both. you close the door behind him gently, your fingers curling around the handle for a second too long before you turn to face him again. for a moment, neither of you says anything. the silence stretches, but it isn’t empty—it’s full of everything that was left unsaid.

“i didn’t think i’d get to see you again like this,” heeseung says finally, his voice softer than you remember, like it’s been sanded down by time and longing. his gaze lingers on your face, searching, careful, like he’s trying to figure out how much of you is still his to read. “you look… you look beautiful.” you smile, barely, because even though the compliment makes your chest flutter, there’s still a tension winding through your spine, coiled from everything that’s happened since the last time you were together.

“thank you,” you reply, your voice nearly a whisper as you gesture toward the couch. “do you want to sit?” he nods quickly and moves to the couch while you follow behind, your heart thudding just a little harder with every step. you sit beside him—not too close, not too far—and he leans forward with his elbows on his knees, hands clasped between them like he’s bracing himself.

“i’ve been thinking about you a lot,” he admits, eyes cast down to the floor before flicking back up to yours. “not just about what we did. but the way you made me feel. the way i still feel.” his words hang between you like steam off a hot drink, curling and invisible and so very real. you feel the lump form in your throat, emotion creeping up the edges of your chest as he continues.

“i didn’t mean for any of this to get so complicated,” he says, shaking his head slowly, brows furrowing. “at first it was only for quick video, just for fun until it wasn’t anymore.” you watch his fingers tighten around themselves, a small tremble in his voice that he doesn’t try to hide.

you sit there quietly, your own heart pulling painfully because you know his words are true—you felt that tenderness in every touch, in the way he looked at you like he was afraid he’d ruin something just by holding on too tightly. “i kept the flowers,” you say softly, your eyes flicking to the hallway. “they’re still on my nightstand.”

heeseung lifts his head, and something in his expression crumples at your words. “you did?” he asks, and when you nod, he smiles—just barely, but it’s the kind that reaches his eyes. “i thought maybe they’d be gone. like everything else.”

you shake your head, your voice quiet but steady. “you weren’t ever nothing to me, heeseung.”

a silence falls again, this one more tender, more full of the ache that builds when two people want each other but don’t know how to fix what’s broken. then, carefully, you reach out and place your hand over his, your fingers sliding gently between his. he turns his palm to meet yours, the contact soft but grounding.

“i wanted to see you today because i needed to know if what we had meant something,” you say, your gaze steady on his. “i needed to know if you still saw me the same way.”

his thumb brushes across your knuckles slowly, reverently, like he’s memorizing the feel of your skin. “i never stopped seeing you that way. i never stopped wanting you.”

heeseung’s fingers remain laced with yours, his thumb tracing small, reverent circles against the back of your hand as if grounding himself through your touch. there’s something in his expression that looks both overwhelmed and awestruck, like seeing you up close again is too much and yet not nearly enough. your knees brush lightly as you shift a little on the couch, turning to face him fully, and your chest tightens at the way his gaze lingers on every part of you—your eyes, your mouth, your expression—as if he’s searching for something familiar and finding everything he missed. the air between you feels fragile but charged, delicate yet thick with things unsaid, with feelings that had been buried under the weight of time, of silence, of complicated truths. “i’ve missed you,” heeseung breathes finally, his voice soft but raw, like the words have been sitting on the tip of his tongue since the day he let you walk away. your lips part to answer, to say something, anything, but all that slips out is a quiet, breathless hum as you squeeze his hand in return, heart fluttering at the vulnerability spilling through his voice. he leans closer, the tip of his nose brushing yours, and you can feel the way his breath trembles when he exhales—like he’s holding back everything he wants to say in favor of showing it instead. “can i kiss you?” he whispers, the question not rushed, not desperate, just reverent, and the simple sincerity in it makes your throat tighten. you nod slowly, eyes fluttering shut, and the world seems to still the moment his lips meet yours.

his kiss is gentle—almost too gentle at first—like he’s afraid you’ll vanish beneath him, afraid this might be a dream he doesn’t want to wake from. he kisses you with aching slowness, like every second counts, every brush of his mouth against yours an apology, a confession, a hope. his free hand finds your jaw, thumb sliding softly beneath your ear as he deepens the kiss with a quiet sigh, his body curling into yours like he wants to shield you from the rest of the world. you respond in kind, melting into him, your fingers slipping over his shoulder and gripping the fabric of his hoodie as you pull him closer, needing him near, needing this to feel as real as it does. his tongue brushes lightly against your bottom lip and you open for him without hesitation, your breath catching as the kiss grows more certain, more full—still tender, still careful, but laced now with something rawer, something deeper. you can feel how much he’s holding back, how much emotion is pressed into the way he kisses you, like he’s trying to speak in a language you’ll never forget. when he finally pulls away, it’s only by an inch, his forehead resting against yours and his lips still barely brushing yours as he exhales, shaky and full of meaning. “you feel like home,” he murmurs, almost to himself, like the words weren’t planned but tumbled out without permission. you feel your heart crack open just a little more at that, your eyes fluttering open to meet his as he stares at you like you’re the only thing in the universe worth looking at.

heeseung’s thumb brushes against your cheek as he studies you, the softness in his eyes darkening just slightly with something more serious. “have you made a choice yet?” he asks, voice low and careful, not demanding but deeply curious, like your answer holds the weight of everything between you. your lips part with a slow exhale, fingers tightening gently around his. “i have,” you admit, heart fluttering against your ribs like it’s been waiting for this moment too. “but i want to tell everyone at once... i owe them that.” the honesty sits between you, heavy but right, and heeseung nods slowly, the corners of his lips lifting into a small, knowing smile. “then let me help,” he murmurs, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple with quiet resolve. “come with me—i’ll take care of everything,” he adds, already pulling you gently to your feet as your stomach flips in anticipation.

you follow him to the front door, slipping on your shoes as he keeps a steady hand on your lower back, his presence steadying and grounding. the sunlight outside has softened into a golden wash, casting long shadows as the two of you step out into the cool air and head toward his car. his fingers stay laced with yours the entire walk to the passenger side, his thumb tracing calm, thoughtless circles that make your chest tighten with quiet affection. once inside, the engine hums to life, and the low volume of the radio blends into the comforting silence between you—one filled with unspoken meaning rather than awkwardness. you glance at him as he drives, taking in the quiet confidence in his profile, the way his jaw tightens slightly like he’s focused on making this go right. “where are we going?” you ask softly, eyes flicking to the road ahead as he turns onto a familiar street. “my place,” he answers, flashing you a quick glance that’s both reassuring and something deeper. “i told the rest to meet me there around six. it’s time.”

—

you thought this moment would come with more clarity, more poise, maybe even peace—but instead your nerves are coiling inside you like tightly wound string, every eye in the room weighing down on your chest. they’re all here, seated or standing in the living room, each gaze fixed squarely on you, some soft and unsure, others unreadable, but more than a few linger a second too long on your lips. the silence presses in as you shift your weight between your feet, fingers nervously twisting around each other, heart hammering like it’s being wrung out with every second you wait. “before i say anything else, i just have one thing i need to ask,” you begin, your voice quiet but unwavering as your eyes stay rooted to the floorboards. “why didn’t any of you tell me you all knew each other? was i not someone worth being honest with?” your voice wavers slightly, the first crack blooming beneath your ribs as your eyes rise slowly to meet theirs, glassy with heat you refuse to let spill. “i was naive enough to not put the pieces together, but still—there were no signs, no indication, and now i just feel... stupid.”

he confession sits heavy in your throat, your chest tightening as their silence grows denser around you, no one moving to speak just yet. “a part of me felt like i was being played,” you continue, voice just above a whisper now, “like maybe it was a joke to you all, something funny you could talk about behind closed doors.” you shake your head gently, a bitter laugh escaping under your breath as you draw in a shaky inhale. “and i hate thinking like that—i really do—because none of you made me feel that way when we were together. each of you showed me a side of yourselves that i let myself believe was real, something intimate i gave myself up to without hesitation.” your gaze flicks up again, landing on familiar faces you’ve memorized in far different settings, now unreadable and complicated. “i didn’t want to be seen as a game or some experiment, some anonymous figure who you all could just try out to see what the hype was.” the words taste like guilt and doubt and something rawer, something closer to heartbreak.

“i know i agreed to all of it,” you admit, quieter now, “and i know this was supposed to be just content—but somewhere along the way, i let my guard down, and i can’t help but feel foolish for it.” your eyes sting, but you blink quickly, refusing to let your vulnerability show any more than it already has. “my mind kept spiraling… thinking maybe it was for clout, or worse—a bet.” your voice tightens on the last word, the pressure mounting behind your sternum like a dam about to split. “i mean, why else would seven people—all so successful in their own right—end up so tangled in one girl’s content?” your arms cross instinctively over your chest as your gaze drops again, a protective reflex you didn’t know you still had left. “i just didn’t think i’d become so attached,” you finish, barely above a whisper now, “not when i promised myself i wouldn’t.”

the room remains still for a moment until finally, someone speaks—sunghoon. he leans forward slightly from his seat, elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped tightly together like he’s been holding them still for hours. “i did it to understand,” he says, voice calm but honest, eyes trained directly on yours. “heeseung and jay—i’ve never seen them so... different. they wouldn’t stop talking about you, about how filming with you felt like something else entirely.” he lets out a slow breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “i got curious, nosy even, and maybe that was selfish—but it wasn’t for a laugh. i wanted to know what they meant when they said you made them feel something.” his voice softens further. “and when i met you… when we actually filmed together… it wasn’t about curiosity anymore. it was about you.”

“you made me feel something that night that i haven’t been able to shake since,” sunghoon confesses, leaning in just enough to make your breath catch. “you were gentle and confident and so goddamn sincere, and it hit me all at once that this wasn’t just content. not for me. not for any of us.” he sits back, gaze still locked to yours with something so open and raw it makes your chest ache. “i want to know more about you, y/n. not just the version i’ve seen in front of the camera, but all of you—the real parts you haven’t let anyone else see yet.” you can’t move. can’t speak. can only stare, your entire world tipped sideways again as the weight of his words settles into the silence. and somehow, deep down, you know he isn’t the only one who feels this way.

you don’t expect heeseung to speak next, not when he’s sitting so still, elbows on his knees, fingers woven together like he’s trying to physically hold himself back, but the moment sunghoon’s voice fades into silence, he lifts his head and locks eyes with you—and it’s like the air changes. “do you want to know why i never told you?” he asks quietly, and the sharp edge in his tone startles you. “because i didn’t want this to happen.” his voice is raw now, thick with something deeper than just frustration—it’s laced with regret, with something so heavy it nearly takes your breath away. “i didn’t want you to look at us like this. like we were playing you, like we were some fucking group project you didn’t sign up for. because that’s not what this ever was for me.” he shifts forward, closer than before, and you can feel the warmth of his stare—burning, sincere, full of tension he’s tried too hard to contain. “you were the first one. you were the one who made all of this real in the first place. i didn’t go into it thinking anything would happen, didn’t think i’d care beyond a good collab and moving on—but then you looked at me, touched me like i was more than a body in a video, and i’ve been fucked ever since.” he runs a hand through his hair, jaw tightening. “and then jay, then jake, then everyone else started acting different. like they were seeing the same thing i saw in you. and i hated it—hated how much it made me feel like i was losing something that was never even mine to begin with.” his gaze hardens for just a second before softening again, dropping momentarily to your lips, and then right back to your eyes. “but you were mine first. and maybe that doesn’t mean anything now, maybe i don’t have the right to claim you, but it means something to me. you were the start of all this, and if i had known where it would lead, i swear to god i would’ve stopped it. i would’ve kept you all to myself. because the way you made me feel that night—like i was the only one in the world who mattered—it hasn’t gone away. and i don’t think it ever will.”

the tension in the room thickens like a storm front, heavy and static as niki shifts forward in his seat, his jaw tight, his expression unreadable but brimming with heat. his eyes don’t leave heeseung as he speaks, low and firm, the weight of his words making the air feel colder. “you don’t get to claim her just because you were the first,” he says, each syllable slow and deliberate, cutting through the silence like a blade. “we all feel something for her, heeseung—we all gave a part of ourselves, even if it was just once. you think that just because you had her first, that gives you some kind of head start?” his voice cracks slightly with frustration, his throat tight with everything he’s been holding back. “you think the rest of us don’t lie awake at night replaying every moment we shared with her?” he exhales sharply through his nose, shaking his head as he finally looks away, trying to compose himself. “you might’ve met her before us, but don’t you dare act like our feelings are any less real.”

heeseung’s gaze flickers, the smugness gone from his face, replaced by something harder to name—guilt, maybe, or the realization that this isn’t as simple as he thought. his fingers curl into fists at his sides, and for a moment, he doesn’t speak, like the air’s been knocked out of him by the sheer honesty of niki’s words. niki, still staring ahead, continues, his tone softer now but no less intense, the vulnerability beneath his confidence slipping through. “we all watched her change us, one by one. we all wanted to be enough.” the truth hangs there, raw and exposed, something none of them dared to voice until now. the room stills again, no one daring to move as the weight of what niki said settles across them like a shadow. you sit there in the center of it all, your heart thudding against your ribs, overwhelmed by the way each of them keeps proving that this isn’t just about lust—it’s about longing. and now, with no more room to pretend, you realize you have a choice to make—but you’re not the only one trembling at the thought of what comes next.

you sit frozen for a moment, eyes flicking between them all as the tension coils tighter, like a thread pulled taut. your heart aches at the way their voices shake, the way niki's honesty echoes in the room, the way heeseung swallows down words that almost seem too heavy to say. they're all hurting, you realize—caught in a war that none of you asked for but all of you helped build. your hands clasp together tightly in your lap as you inhale slowly, grounding yourself in the weight of this decision, in the pounding of your pulse. “okay,” you breathe out, voice quiet but steady, the softness of it enough to draw their attention. “that’s enough. i didn’t bring you all here to tear each other apart or fight for some title.” your eyes lift, watery and raw, as you meet each gaze in turn. “i brought you here because i’ve already made my choice.”

they’re still now, completely still, like the whole room is holding its breath with you. the words sit heavy on your tongue, but once they start spilling, they don’t stop. “i want all of you,” you confess, voice trembling just enough to show how deeply you mean it. “i want every single one of you, because i can’t choose. i won’t.” your throat tightens as you shake your head, fingers loosening as you let your hands fall into your lap. “i fell for different parts of you—for heeseung’s quiet tenderness, for jay’s intensity, for jake’s gentleness, for sunghoon’s fire, for sunoo’s light, for jungwon’s sincerity, and for niki’s depth.” the silence after your words is thick and warm, the kind that lingers after truth is laid bare. “how could i ever ask myself to only want one, when loving each of you felt just as real?”

you watch their faces shift—eyes widening, jaws slack, mouths parting slightly as they take in your confession. “it would destroy me to choose,” you whisper, eyes flicking downward before rising again. “because no matter who i’d pick, i'd lose the rest. and i already know i can’t handle that. not when you’ve each carved out places inside me that i can’t just ignore.” you look toward the ground again as your heart pounds louder in your chest, afraid of the silence that follows, but determined not to take the words back. “i know this might not make sense. maybe it’s selfish of me,” you admit, biting the inside of your cheek. “but if any of you are willing to set your jealousy aside... if you’re open to seeing where this can really go with me... together... i want that.”

there’s a crack in your voice by the end, a thread of fear that still lives there, but it’s softened by the truth. you’re scared—of being rejected, of being seen differently, of being too much—but your heart has never been this certain. you watch them, one by one, as they absorb every word, their expressions unreadable at first, slowly melting into something more complicated than anger or longing. you feel vulnerable, standing in front of them with your soul laid bare, but there’s something freeing in it too—like finally stepping into your own truth. “i’m not asking for easy,” you add softly. “but i am asking you to try. because i know what i feel, and i know it’s real. i just need to know if you feel it too.”

there’s a pause—a soft breath in the room, almost like the air itself is waiting for someone to move first. it’s jake who does. he steps forward slowly, his eyes never leaving yours, wide and warm and glassy with emotion. your heart jumps into your throat as he comes closer, the tension in your shoulders locking into place before he lifts a hand gently to the side of your face. his palm is warm, thumb brushing along your cheek, and for a moment, he just looks at you—really looks at you—like he’s memorizing every inch. and then, before you can even react, his lips are on yours in a kiss so full of longing that your knees nearly give out.

his mouth moves slowly against yours at first, reverent, like he’s worshipping the very moment. “i’ll do it,” he breathes against your lips, the words brushing into your skin like a promise. “i’ll do anything… anything that involves you in it.” another kiss, deeper this time, as he tilts your head just enough to make it last longer. “if it means sharing this with them,” he murmurs between kisses, “i’ll do it in a heartbeat.” your fingers instinctively clutch at the fabric of his shirt, overwhelmed by the honesty spilling from his mouth and the way he kisses you like he’s been holding back for years. “because at the end of the day,” he whispers, his forehead resting against yours, “i’ll have the girl that’s been living in my head since the first time i touched her.”

he doesn’t say it in a rush or in a way that demands a response. it’s gentle, unwavering, and raw. you can feel the truth of it in the way he holds you, in the way his hands don’t wander but stay grounded—one at your jaw, one steady at your waist. there’s something grounding about jake, even in a room full of shifting feelings and emotional chaos. the others don’t interrupt, not yet, watching in a stillness that holds no bitterness. maybe because they feel it too—that this is jake’s moment, and yours. he brushes a strand of hair away from your face before dipping down again, placing a kiss on the corner of your lips like punctuation.

“i want this,” he says quietly, so only you can hear. “you… all of this. whatever it looks like, however messy it gets. if it’s with you, i’m in.” his arms come around you gently, not caging you in, but welcoming you in fully. and for a brief, shimmering moment, everything in you softens—like your heart finally knows what safety tastes like. the room is still again, but it’s different now. the tone has shifted, charged not with tension, but with choice. jake chose you—fully, freely, and with everything he has.

the moment jake finally steps back from you, the air feels heavier, charged with anticipation as your gaze slowly shifts to sunoo. he stands a little apart from the others, eyes glassy, his fingers knotted together in front of him like he’s holding himself back from something—like he’s terrified to move forward and even more terrified to be left behind. “are you really sure about this?” he asks, voice feather-soft but laced with something raw, something cracked. “you can reject me if that’s what’s in your heart,” he continues, not meeting your eyes now, lashes lowered as his throat bobs with a swallow that nearly breaks your own heart, “i just… i don’t want you to choose this out of guilt. not for me. not for any of us.” your breath catches in your throat at the trembling in his tone, at how small he suddenly looks despite the strength he’s shown in every other setting, and it’s that look—that aching vulnerability—that makes your feet move before you can think. your hands rise gently to cup his face, thumbs brushing softly against the warm streaks of tears trailing down his cheeks, and his lips part on a quiet gasp as he finally looks at you. “sunoo,” you whisper, your voice just as shaky now, but steady in its conviction, “you don’t understand. this isn’t something i’m doing to protect anyone… it’s what i want.”

your forehead leans against his as his breath hitches, his hands slowly coming up to hold your wrists, gentle like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. “i want you,” you whisper again, your eyes falling shut as the tears burn behind your lids, “i want all of you, because each of you mean something to me that i can’t ignore.” your voice grows steadier as you go on, your words pouring out like a confession you’ve waited days to finally admit. “i’ve thought about it over and over—what it would feel like to choose just one of you, to let the others go, and it doesn’t feel right. it never did. i care for each of you so deeply, in ways i never expected to, and the idea of losing any of you just…” your breath shakes as you pull back slightly, enough to look at him fully, your eyes glossy but unwavering. “i wouldn’t survive it. and if you’ll let me—if you all will—i want to try. all of us… together.”

there’s a silence that settles over the room again, but this time, it feels entirely different—charged, pulsing, expectant. your lips are still tingling from the soft pressure of sunoo’s breath, your hands trembling slightly at your sides now that you’ve said everything out loud. and then, from the left, you feel movement—slow, assured footsteps that draw closer with every second until jay stands before you, his expression unreadable but his eyes burning with something deep and golden. “you have no idea what this means to us,” he says quietly, his voice thick with emotion and want, his fingers lifting gently to brush a strand of hair away from your face. and then he’s kissing you—not rushed or ravenous, but like he’s waited far too long and doesn’t want to scare the moment away, his lips fitting over yours with practiced heat, with reverence, with something deeper than desire. your breath catches in your throat as his hand curls around your waist, holding you steady while your body begins to lean into his instinctively, already craving more. and when he pulls back, barely, just far enough for his mouth to brush against your cheekbone, he whispers, “you’re all i’ve wanted since that first night, and i would’ve followed you anywhere, even if you didn’t choose me.” you barely have time to recover before another warmth presses behind you, and a mouth finds your shoulder.

it’s sunghoon, his presence unmistakable from the soft drag of his lips over the skin between your neck and your collarbone, his arm coiling loosely around your waist from behind as if to ground you there. “we’re not going to let you go now,” he murmurs between slow, featherlight kisses, his nose nuzzling the slope of your throat like he’s already addicted to the way you smell. “you made your choice,” he continues, his voice husky now, deeper than before, “and we’re going to show you how happy we are that you did.” heeseung comes next, his hand sliding up to gently cradle your jaw, tipping your chin toward him with such tenderness that your eyes flutter open just in time to see the raw adoration written across his face. he doesn’t kiss you right away—he just stares, long enough to let the moment bloom between you, then dips down slowly, reverently, until his lips meet yours in a kiss that feels like everything you’ve both been holding back. and while your lips mold together, you feel jake’s hands at your hips, guiding your body just slightly toward his so he can lean in and press his mouth to the curve of your neck. “i don’t care what this looks like to the rest of the world,” he breathes, his fingers tightening on your waist as he speaks. “i’ll take whatever this is if it means i get to have you.”

sunoo’s back at your side now, his arms wrapping around you in a way that feels both delicate and possessive, his lips brushing over the top of your shoulder while he whispers, “you’re everything to us now… just tell us what you need.” and last comes jungwon, standing before you with a gaze that could melt stone, his mouth parting slightly as he leans in and presses the softest, slowest kiss to your temple. “we’re yours,” he says simply, his thumb brushing under your eye like he’s memorizing you, like he’s afraid this will vanish into smoke if he doesn’t touch you one more time. their hands are on you now—light, worshipful, lingering touches to your arms, your waist, your back, your hips—as if they’ve all silently agreed that this is the beginning of something sacred, something not just born from lust, but the kind of devotion that simmers underneath every word, every glance, every video that ever led to this moment. your head is swimming, not from confusion, but from the weight of being seen and wanted this wholly, this completely, this truthfully—and you’re ready now. ready for whatever comes next.

niki doesn’t wait—doesn’t ask, doesn’t hesitate—his hands grip your waist suddenly and pull you effortlessly down into his lap, your knees straddling his thighs before your mind can catch up to the motion. the air rushes from your lungs at the feel of him beneath you, hard and warm, as his lips crash into yours like he’s been starving for them, like every second of restraint from earlier has finally broken free. he kisses you hungrily, teeth grazing your lower lip as his tongue licks into your mouth with a sense of urgency that makes your head spin and your fingers clutch at his shoulders. behind you, you feel hands ghosting along your back—softer, steadier—and when you glance over your shoulder, it’s jungwon who’s there, his expression serious but his hands reverent as they slide up your blouse. “let me take this off,” he murmurs, and the words are so gentle, so respectful, that you nod before he even finishes, letting your arms lift as he pulls the fabric over your head and exposes your bare skin to the cool air. you feel eyes on you immediately—heat radiating not just from niki beneath you, but from the way the rest of the boys have now seated themselves along the couch beside him, each of them watching intently as if hypnotized. jay’s jaw is tense but his gaze is soft, while sunghoon leans forward, arms resting on his knees like he’s holding himself back from moving toward you right then. heeseung’s eyes are dark and unreadable, but his hand has flexed into a fist on his thigh, and jake’s already licking his bottom lip slowly, like he’s imagining what it’d taste like to kiss you again.

your breath shudders as niki mouths at your neck now, his teeth scraping lightly along your collarbone before his hands come around to slide up your spine, holding you closer, firmer against him. “fuck,” he mutters against your skin, almost like a prayer, “you’re so goddamn perfect like this.” jungwon’s fingertips trail down your sides, caressing every inch like he’s cataloging you by touch alone, but he stays close, not wanting to take over—just wanting to be near you, to feel your skin under his palms while niki devours your mouth again. there’s a tension building in the room now, not the kind that burns quickly, but the kind that simmers—slow, aching, anticipatory—as if each of them is waiting for their turn, watching carefully, memorizing the way your body moves and responds. and in the center of it all, you feel it—the control, the attention, the heat—your pulse hammering under your skin as you sit there on niki’s lap with your blouse gone, your breath shared between kisses and the knowledge that this is only the beginning.

niki’s hands slide under your skirt like they’ve been waiting their whole life to do it, his touch so warm and certain as his fingers trace the soft inside of your thigh. he’s teasing at first, ghosting over where you need him most, while his other hand anchors you to him with a possessive grip on your hip. behind you, jungwon presses closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear before lowering to your neck, kissing slow and tender as if to soothe the ache building inside of you. he starts to suck at the skin just below your jaw, soft at first, then deeper, like he wants to leave his mark there—wants everyone else to see where he’s been. sunoo moves in next, his expression unreadable but his hands delicate as they help slide the remaining straps from your bra down your shoulders, careful with every touch. you feel him press a kiss just above your heart before his mouth finds your breast, sucking gently, then with growing intensity, his tongue swirling over your nipple until it hardens under his attention. your body arches against all of them—niki’s fingers edging closer, jungwon’s lips dragging fire down your skin, sunoo’s mouth wrapped around you—and the sensation of it all has you moaning helplessly, the sound slipping out like a secret you can’t contain. the others are still seated but watching, their eyes dark, their jaws tight, and every time you glance at one of them—heeseung’s lips parting slightly, jay’s brow twitching with restraint, sunghoon’s leg bouncing, jake’s tongue dragging over his bottom lip—you feel their words melt into your ears, murmured filth that makes your thighs tremble and your body cry out for more.

you feel like you’re floating, surrounded by heat and hands and mouths, and every time your eyes flutter open, you’re met with the dark, starved gazes of the others watching from the couch, eyes low, hands twitching, jaws clenched in restraint. they whisper to you from where they sit, each voice distinct—jake’s low and velvety, heeseung’s rougher, jay’s dripping with praise, sunghoon’s smooth and taunting—and their words wrap around you like a silk ribbon, reminding you who you belong to now.

you hear jake’s voice first, quiet and close, a little cracked around the edges like he’s barely holding himself together. “look at you, baby… so good for them already,” he murmurs, and your head turns weakly toward him, lips parted in a gasp as niki presses harder against your clothed clit. “i’ll have you moaning louder than that soon. just wait.” jay chuckles lowly beside him, eyes dragging down your body like he’s committing every detail to memory. “our perfect little girl,” he hums, “so responsive. so fucking pretty when she’s falling apart like this.” sunghoon leans forward slightly, his hand gripping the edge of the cushion like he’s resisting the urge to lunge. “can’t believe we’ve all been holding back like this,” he mutters, “fuck—i need to hear her say my name.” you tilt your head back as another breathless moan slips from your lips, and heeseung’s gaze snaps to your face, his eyes dark and wide, throat working as he swallows hard. “just like that, baby,” he encourages you, voice tight. “you look so good like this, fuck, i can’t wait to taste you again.”

niki finally slides the fabric aside, two fingers slipping between your folds, and the room fades around you for a second—all you can feel is him, slowly curling up inside of you as his lips stay locked to yours. you moan so loudly into his mouth that even sunoo pauses, glancing up at your face with a blown-out look of awe. your walls clench around niki’s fingers, your legs trembling, hips jerking forward as he strokes you from the inside like he’s trying to memorize every texture.

the contrast of cool air on your skin and their warm hands makes your spine arch and your lips part again, another moan slipping past as you instinctively roll your hips into niki’s palm. sunoo’s mouth is back on your breasts, hungrier now, his tongue flicking fast while his teeth graze softly over your skin and his hands hold you in place. jungwon trails open-mouthed kisses across your collarbone, whispering things you can’t fully hear—something about how beautiful you are, how soft, how perfect this moment is. you can’t respond, too lost in sensation, too wrapped up in the way all three of them are touching you at once while the others look on, voices overlapping like a filthy chorus of praise.

jake stands from the couch finally, unable to keep still, his hands running through his hair as he makes his way toward you, biting down on his lip to suppress a groan. he kneels next to niki, close enough for your thighs to brush his arm, and you can’t help but reach for him, your fingers curling around the front of his shirt. he leans in, tilts your chin up, and kisses you like he’s been aching for it—slow, deep, greedy. he tastes like longing and devotion and a touch of desperation, like he’s afraid if he doesn’t kiss you now, he might never get the chance again. heeseung’s next, walking around behind you with a look in his eyes that’s equal parts reverence and hunger, fingers gently threading through your hair before leaning down to kiss the spot on your neck that jungwon had left behind. jay follows, his hand slipping around your side to hold your waist as he presses a kiss to your shoulder, his lips lingering a moment too long like he’s savoring your taste. sunghoon brushes his knuckles over your thigh, gaze focused and lips parted as he slowly drops to his knees, his head close to jake’s, his breath ghosting over your skin. they’re surrounding you now—touching, kissing, whispering, hungry.

you feel like the air has changed—thicker, sweeter, laced with something electric that crackles over your skin and makes you whimper as niki pumps his fingers deeper inside you. your head falls back again, your breath catching in your throat as sunoo takes your breast between his lips, tugging and sucking with more force as if he knows you’re getting close. “so fucking pretty,” he mutters, tongue flicking fast as you cry out. “you’re gonna come just from this, huh?” jungwon kisses along your jawline, whispering praise so soft it makes your eyes flutter shut. “let go, baby. you’re safe. we’ve got you.” jake’s hand slides up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing your bottom lip as he watches every flicker of pleasure across your face. “you’re everything, you know that?” he whispers. “our everything.” heeseung’s voice joins next, low and gritty near your ear, his arms around your waist as he steadies you. “we’ll take care of you. all of us. just say the word.”

the words blend into touches, kisses, filthy promises spoken against your skin as your climax builds with every stroke, every kiss, every groan breathed against your throat. your body trembles, thighs clenching around niki’s wrist, your nails digging into jake’s shoulder as your hips stutter against his hand. they’re all watching you now—holding you, whispering to you, grounding you—as your orgasm hits like a wave, crashing through you so hard you cry out with no shame. niki groans with you, fucking you through it with his fingers, his eyes locked to your face like he never wants to forget how you look when you come. sunoo bites down gently on your breast before licking over it apologetically, while jungwon kisses your temple, arms sliding around you protectively. your body slumps slightly, chest heaving, but they don’t move away. instead, they hold you tighter—pressing kisses to your skin, whispering how beautiful you looked, how good you did for them, how much more they still want to give you.

you step away from niki slowly, the heat of his presence still lingering behind you as you turn your attention to heeseung and jay. your fingers trail up their torsos, teasing along the hem of their shirts before you press both of them back toward the couch. they let you guide them with ease, their bodies already responding, hips twitching slightly as your palms drag over the firm outlines of their bulges. the soft, barely-there pressure has them exhaling in sharp, shaky breaths, and you can hear the hiss of surprise slip from heeseung’s lips when your thumbs press just a little harder against the straining fabric of his jeans.

"take these off..." you purr, voice low and syrupy as your gaze flickers up at them with heavy intent. they don’t hesitate. in a few quick motions, denim and boxers are pushed down and kicked aside, their thick cocks springing free—already hard, the tips flushed and glistening with precum under the low, amber glow of the living room light. your mouth waters at the sight, and you waste no time wrapping a hand around each shaft, your fingers curling snug around their lengths, your thumbs brushing against the slick heads as you begin to stroke them slowly, teasingly.

your face inches forward, tongue flicking out to catch the drip that escapes jay first. heeseung watches with wide, desperate eyes as your lips wrap around the tip of jay’s cock, the wet heat of your mouth sinking down just enough to have him curse through clenched teeth. "oh fuck, princess..." heeseung groans, voice rough, chest rising as his hand twitches like he doesn’t know whether to grip the couch or your hair. your left hand tightens around him in response, giving him a slow pump as you swirl your tongue over jay’s slit.

jay’s head falls back with a low groan, his mouth parted and slack as he tries to keep his composure. his fingers clench into fists at his sides, unsure of where to touch, how to ground himself, overwhelmed by the feel of your warm lips wrapped so sweetly around just his tip. his abs tense beneath his shirt, and when your gaze flicks up to catch the way he bites down on his bottom lip, the needy sound that escapes you makes both of them shudder in anticipation.

you pull back with a soft pop, a thin string of saliva connecting your lips to jay’s swollen tip before breaking as you turn your head to face heeseung. the way he looks at you—eyes dark and hooded, jaw tight with restraint—makes your core clench. he’s barely holding it together, hips twitching upward when you lean in and lick a slow, deliberate stripe up the underside of his cock. his head tilts back, an almost growl-like moan rumbling from his chest as you swirl your tongue around the head, collecting the salty beads of precum gathered there.

“fuck, baby…” heeseung rasps, his voice wrecked, a hand reaching down to cradle your cheek for just a second before retreating, afraid to disrupt the rhythm of your mouth. you smile against his tip before sinking down a little further, your lips stretching around him while your hand continues pumping jay beside you—slow, steady strokes that make his thighs tense and his chest rise and fall like he’s on the edge. the dual sensation of having both of them twitching in your hands and mouth sends a rush of power through you, addictive and heady.

jay can’t stop watching you, his eyes locked on the way your throat works around heeseung, the soft wet sounds of your mouth filling the room. “jesus christ,” he murmurs under his breath, hips shifting like he wants more, like he’s barely keeping himself from pushing into your grip. his hands finally rise, hovering awkwardly before settling on the edge of the couch, his fingers digging into the cushions for something to hold on to. you can feel how badly they both want to let go—how close they are to losing themselves in the way you look between them, lips swollen and glistening, eyes fluttering closed with every slow bob of your head.

you switch again, pulling off heeseung with a slick gasp, your hand immediately stroking him as you turn your mouth back to jay. he lets out a breathless curse the moment your tongue touches him again, your lips wrapping around his flushed head while you squeeze the base with a teasing twist of your wrist. “fuck—keep doing that,” jay breathes, his voice shaking, his eyes screwed shut as your mouth moves just a little deeper. you moan around him on purpose, the vibrations shooting through his shaft and making his hips buck slightly despite himself.

heeseung watches, completely wrecked by the sight—his cock throbbing in your grip, your fingers gliding through the mess of precum smeared across his skin. “you’re so fucking pretty like this,” he whispers, barely audible, as if the words were dragged from him without permission. his thumb brushes your jawline when you pause again, a sweet, messy breath leaving you as you look up through your lashes, spit shining your lips, your hands working both of them in tandem like it’s second nature.

“you like that?” you ask softly, voice soaked in wicked innocence, your breath fanning over their cocks as you stroke them. “you like watching me get messy just for you?”

they nod in sync—silent, breathless, entirely at your mercy. and you smile, slow and sultry, before leaning in once more. this time, you don’t choose between them. instead, you let your tongue flick from one tip to the other, teasing them both at once until their hips stutter and their mouths fall open in matching moans that echo off the walls of heeseung’s dimly lit apartment.

you giggle softly at the way they react—so sensitive, so eager, so fucking close to unraveling just from your mouth and hands alone. their hips twitch toward you, needy and instinctual, and you don’t deny them. instead, you lean in further, letting your tongue glide between their tips again before you wrap your lips around both heads at once, sucking softly, your cheeks hollowing just enough to make them both groan in unison. the sound is filthy—wet and warm and low and broken—and it vibrates straight through your core, slick pooling between your thighs as you drink in every strained breath they let out.

“fuck, fuck—just like that,” jay gasps, his voice barely a whisper, strained and breathless as his hand finally finds the back of your head. he doesn’t push, doesn’t grip—just holds, trembling fingers threaded through your hair like he needs the anchor to keep from falling apart. your left hand continues to stroke heeseung, twisting just right as your lips slide between them again, alternating slow sucks and flicks of your tongue over their tips until precum coats your mouth, sticky and warm and addictive.

heeseung’s voice cracks when he speaks, desperate and low. “you’re driving me insane,” he groans, eyes glazed as he watches you take turns between them, completely entranced by the sight of your lips wrapped around jay’s cock while your hand keeps his own throbbing, aching for more. he looks like he’s seconds from snapping—shoulders tense, abs flexing, mouth parted in stunned awe. “fuck, baby… i can’t—i’m gonna lose it if you keep doing that.”

you pull back just enough to breathe, lips swollen and glossy, spit and precum smeared across your chin as you look up at them with that innocent little smile that only makes it worse. “but i’m not even halfway done with you,” you murmur, voice teasing and sweet, almost mocking with how calm you sound compared to their unraveling. “don’t tell me you’re already gonna come?”

jay curses under his breath, chest rising with a shaky inhale as you lick a stripe from the base of his cock to the head and then do the same to heeseung. both of them watch in complete silence, lips parted, eyes wide as your mouth moves between them like you were made for this—meant to tease them side by side, meant to be on your knees with their cocks in your hands, taking your time as if you weren’t driving them both mad with every second that passed.

you press a kiss to heeseung’s tip and then another to jay’s, slow and wet, before you begin to stroke them harder—tighter, faster, your wrists moving in tandem with practiced rhythm as your mouth returns to suckle at the head of whichever one twitches first. their moans grow louder, more ragged, filling the apartment with breathless desperation and the lewd sound of your hands and mouth working them over.

“gonna come,” jay finally groans, his voice cracking as his fingers tighten in your hair, his hips twitching despite how hard he’s trying to stay still. “fuck—fuck, please don’t stop…”

you don’t. you keep going, keep stroking, keep sucking, your mouth switching between them in messy, hungry little laps of attention, until both of them are right at the edge—hips stuttering, thighs trembling, eyes rolling back as they lose themselves completely in the feeling of you using them like your personal toys. and you’re loving every second of it.

heeseung’s the first to lose it. his breath catches in his throat, sharp and ragged, as his cock twitches hard in your fist. “shit—fuck, i’m coming,” he grits out, hips jerking as the first thick spurt paints across your knuckles and wrist. you keep stroking him through it, slow and firm, watching every tremble of his abdomen, every flutter of his lashes as his head tips back against the couch, mouth parted in a silent moan. cum spills freely, dripping from your hand as you squeeze the last drops from him, the mess trailing down onto his thighs and soaking into the fabric beneath him.

you don’t pause—not for a second. the moment heeseung falls limp in your grip, you’re already sinking your mouth back onto jay’s cock, hungry and unrelenting. your hand is still pumping him, tight and fast, but now your lips wrap around his flushed head, your tongue circling the slit with desperate, greedy pressure. jay lets out a strangled sound, his thighs spreading wider as he gives in fully, no longer trying to hold back or hide how close he is. “oh my god, baby—fuck—i can’t,” he chokes out, his hand gripping your shoulder as his whole body tenses beneath your touch.

he comes hard, his hips stuttering against your mouth, cock pulsing between your lips as warm, salty spurts coat your tongue. you hum softly as he spills, swallowing around him, letting his release flood your throat with a satisfied moan that only makes his grip on you tighten. you don’t move, not until he finishes twitching, not until his chest deflates and his grip loosens and he slumps back into the couch like he’s been completely drained of breath and thought and sanity.

you finally pull back, slow and messy, a string of saliva and cum connecting your mouth to the softening tip of his cock before it snaps and drips down your chin. both of them are staring at you—fucked out, wide-eyed, wrecked. your cheeks are flushed, your lips swollen, your chest rising with shallow breaths as you wipe the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand, your fingers still sticky from heeseung’s release.

you slowly rise to your feet, the room heavy with the scent of sweat and sex, your hands moving to the hem of your skirt. it slips off easily, pooling around your ankles in a soft heap. your panties cling to your soaked cunt as you peel them down, the damp fabric sliding along your thighs before joining the skirt on the floor. your bare skin prickles in the cool air, arousal glistening between your legs, but before you can move any further, sunghoon’s hands are on you.

he pulls you down gently but firmly, laying you flat on the floor beneath him like you’re something fragile and precious, something he wants to worship. his palms glide down the curve of your back, the touch warm and slow and greedy. when they reach the swell of your ass, he squeezes once—then pulls back and delivers a soft, open-palmed smack. the recoil of your flesh has his eyes fluttering shut for a brief second, a low groan spilling from his lips like he’s trying not to fall apart too soon.

“fuck, you’re so fucking beautiful, princess…” he murmurs, voice trembling with reverence as his eyes trail over every inch of your body. he leans back just enough to fist his cock in one hand, already hard and leaking, the tip flushed and angry. he strokes it lazily, precum spilling down the shaft as he brings it to your center, dragging the head slowly through your slick folds. the sound alone—wet, sticky, obscene—has your breath hitching. his cock catches against your clit on each pass, and you can’t stop the way your hips roll forward, needy and shameless.

your eyes drift past him, taking in the rest of the room. niki’s still exactly where you left him—leaning back against the wall, one hand stroking himself in slow, tight motions as he watches the scene unfold in front of him. his lips are parted, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths, his focus unblinking. beside him, sunoo sits with a flush high on his cheeks, gaze locked between your legs. his thighs are squeezed together, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth like he’s trying not to moan aloud.

just beyond them, jungwon sits close to jake, both of them eerily still. jungwon’s eyes are impossibly dark, the kind of stare that pins you in place, makes your pulse race with how intense it is. jake leans slightly forward, his elbows resting on his knees, tongue peeking out to wet his lips as he watches sunghoon line himself up. both of their hands rest in their laps, but you know it won’t stay that way for long. their hunger is palpable—thick in the air, swirling around you, coating your skin like a second layer.

you’re spread open beneath them, slick and aching, sunghoon’s cock sliding through your folds like it belongs there. and you can feel every pair of eyes on you—watching, waiting, wanting.

sunghoon breathes out a shaky curse, his hand tightening around the base of his cock as he guides it to your entrance. he pauses just long enough to look at you—really look at you—his other hand resting on your hip like he’s steadying himself. the tip nudges against your soaked hole, parting you slowly, the stretch enough to make your thighs twitch, your back arching slightly off the floor in anticipation.

“just like that,” he whispers, almost to himself, like he’s in a trance. and then he pushes in.

inch by inch, his cock sinks into you, the burn delicious, your walls fluttering and clenching down around him as you gasp beneath the weight of it. he’s thick—long—and the slow, unhurried pace he sets feels agonizing in the best way. your pussy draws him in greedily, wet and welcoming, the sound of your bodies meeting echoing softly off the walls. he buries himself to the hilt with a deep groan, his fingers pressing hard into your hips as he holds himself there, just breathing, just feeling you wrapped around him.

you whimper softly, the stretch making your thighs tremble, your fingers curling against the floor as your walls pulse around his cock. sunghoon stays still for a beat, his head tipping forward, hair falling into his eyes as he exhales slowly like he’s trying not to fall apart too soon. “so fucking tight,” he murmurs, hips twitching as he begins to draw back, slow and steady, only to sink into you again with a little more force.

your eyes flutter open and shift toward the others—niki’s hand is moving faster now, his gaze locked on the way sunghoon’s cock disappears inside you, the way your back arches and your mouth falls open in a silent moan. sunoo’s legs are spread, fingers tracing along his own cock through his pants as he watches with wide, fascinated eyes. jake’s leaned closer, jaw clenched tight, and jungwon—jungwon’s expression is unreadable, but his eyes haven’t left your face for even a second.

sunghoon sets a slow, grinding pace, each thrust purposeful, deep, like he’s trying to reach parts of you untouched. your breath comes in soft, desperate gasps, your hands sliding up his arms, nails dragging lightly down the muscle as he fucks into you with smooth, rolling thrusts. the pleasure builds slow and thick, coiling deep in your belly as your body trembles beneath his, your walls fluttering with every deep drag of his cock.

“feel so good around me,” sunghoon groans, one hand sliding under your thigh to hitch your leg higher, angling you just right to hit that spot that makes your breath catch and your head fall back. “you were made for this. made for me.”

and the way you whimper—needy and desperate—has all the others inching forward, unable to help themselves. 

sunghoon’s thrusts grow deeper, slower but heavier, grinding into you like he wants to leave an imprint—like he wants you to feel him there long after he pulls out. your hands slide up his back, nails raking lightly over his skin as his forehead presses to yours, his breath hot and ragged against your lips. his cock fills you so perfectly, the curve of it dragging against that sensitive spot inside you with every motion.

“look at you,” he breathes, voice soft and fucked-out, like he’s marveling at you, completely lost in the way your pussy clenches around him. “taking me so fucking well, baby… like you were made to be underneath me.”

you whimper in response, hips tilting to meet his rhythm, the friction building faster now—deeper. his thumb comes to press against your clit, slow circles drawing a gasp from your throat as your back arches. the pleasure crawls up your spine like fire, and he watches every twitch, every tremble, like he’s memorizing it.

behind him, you hear the shift of movement, the sound of someone rising from the couch, and you don’t have to look to know it’s jake. his presence always lingers before he even speaks—a quiet heat that brushes over your skin. sunghoon notices too, his eyes flicking up just enough to catch jake standing over the two of you, his cock already out and in his hand, flushed and leaking, thick veins pulsing with anticipation.

“you gonna help her out?” sunghoon murmurs without stopping his pace, his voice low and teasing as he looks up at jake. “she’s being so good for me. think she deserves more.”

jake chuckles softly, stepping closer until he’s right by your head. “always knew she could take both,” he says with a little grin, eyes flicking down to meet yours as his fingers brush your cheek. “you want me too, baby?”

you don’t even hesitate—you nod, mouth falling open with a quiet, breathless “please.”

that’s all the encouragement jake needs. he drops to his knees beside you, cock in hand, and shifts just enough to guide the tip toward your lips. you open for him instinctively, tongue flicking out to taste him as sunghoon thrusts deeper into you from below. jake groans at the feeling, his head tipping back slightly as your mouth wraps around him, warm and wet and perfect.

“fuck—just like that,” he breathes, one hand settling gently at the back of your head, not pushing, just holding, guiding. “you’re so fucking pretty with your mouth full.”

your body is completely surrounded—sunghoon buried deep inside your dripping cunt, fucking you with smooth, rolling thrusts that make your thighs shake, and jake sliding into your mouth, his cock heavy on your tongue. your moans are muffled, swallowed by jake’s length, but they vibrate all the way through your body, making sunghoon groan as your pussy tightens around him.

“she’s so fucking tight,” sunghoon grits out, sweat beading at his temple as he fucks into you harder now, faster, the slap of his hips echoing through the room. “and still greedy enough to suck you off at the same time. fuck, princess... you're unreal.”

jake’s hand slides down your throat, feeling the way you swallow him with every slow bob of your head. his eyes darken as he watches the tears gather at the corners of your eyes, the stretch just enough to make your jaw ache—but you don’t stop. you don’t want to.

jake’s fingers curl at the base of your skull, holding you steady as his hips roll forward in gentle, shallow thrusts, easing his cock deeper onto your tongue with every pass. your throat tightens around him, spit pooling at the corners of your mouth, but you moan anyway—low and needy—because the pressure of his cock sliding in and out of your mouth only amplifies the way sunghoon is pounding into you from below.

“jesus, fuck,” jake groans, watching your lips stretch around him, your throat bulging just slightly with every slow thrust. “you were fucking made for this. so filthy, baby.”

sunghoon’s pace grows rougher now, his rhythm less measured and more desperate, driven by the sight of you completely split open between them. his cock slams into you harder, his pelvis grinding against your clit on every thrust, making you whimper around jake’s length. your hands are restless, fingers digging into sunghoon’s arms, your thighs trembling with the intensity of the pleasure ripping through you.

“she’s shaking,” sunghoon hisses, his voice strained, sweat dripping from his jaw as he presses his forehead to your chest. “fuck—she’s close.”

jake grins down at you, wiping away a trail of spit from your chin with his thumb before dragging it across your bottom lip. “you gonna come with your mouth full, sweetheart?” he teases, thrusting just a little deeper, your eyes fluttering as you gag around him. “gonna let hoon fuck it out of you while i use this pretty mouth?”

you try to answer, but it’s all muffled, wet, messy sounds and eager moans around his cock. your walls clamp down on sunghoon so tight it nearly knocks the breath out of him, his hips slamming forward one final time as he groans your name like a prayer. his cock hits that sweet spot again, over and over, and you break—loud and helpless, body spasming as your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave.

your moan is stifled by jake’s cock, tears slipping from your eyes as your body goes rigid, cunt fluttering wildly around sunghoon as he fucks you through it. he’s growling now, a string of curses tumbling from his lips as he chases his own release, thrusting harder, deeper, until he can’t hold it anymore.

“fuck, fuck, baby—i’m coming,” he grits, his hips jerking forward as he spills inside you, hot and deep, his cum painting your walls in thick, pulsing waves. he collapses above you, still buried to the hilt, panting into your neck as your body trembles beneath his.

jake doesn’t let up. even as sunghoon comes down, he keeps thrusting gently into your mouth, watching the way your lashes flutter, the way your lips stay parted and willing despite how spent you are.

“you’re doing so good for us,” he whispers, pulling back just enough to let you breathe before sliding back in with a slow grind. “so perfect, baby. think you can take a little more?”

and the look you give him, eyes glassy, mouth swollen, body wrecked but still hungry—tells him everything he needs to know.

jake groans low in his throat at the sight of you—your lips red and glistening, spit and precum dripping down your chin, your thighs still twitching from the aftershocks of sunghoon’s release. you look ruined. ruined and so fucking willing. and he can’t help but fuck into your mouth a little deeper, a little rougher, the warmth of your throat driving him insane.

“god, you look so pretty like this,” he mutters, his thumb tracing your cheekbone as his cock slides past your lips again. “all fucked out… still letting me use your mouth like it’s mine.”

you moan in response, tongue flattening against the underside of his shaft as your hands reach for his thighs, trying to keep yourself steady. your lips seal around him tighter, your cheeks hollowing with each pass. he’s panting now, hips stuttering slightly as the heat in his stomach coils tight, ready to snap.

sunghoon slowly pulls out from between your legs, his cock softening, coated in both your slick and his cum. he leans back on his heels beside you, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand as he watches you work your mouth on jake. “fuck,” he says breathlessly, eyes trailing the mess between your thighs. “she’s dripping all over the floor.”

“yeah?” jake chuckles darkly, his voice strained. “and she’s about to be dripping down her throat too.”

you gag slightly as he pushes deeper, your throat flexing around him, and that’s what finally tips him over the edge. his hips still, his cock buried deep in your mouth as he groans your name through gritted teeth, ropes of cum spilling down your throat in thick, hot waves. your eyes flutter shut as you swallow around him, greedily taking everything he gives you until he’s twitching and gasping above you.

“fuck, baby… just like that,” he whispers, pulling out slowly, watching a line of spit and cum stretch from your lips to his tip. “such a good fucking girl.”

you collapse back onto the floor, panting, throat sore, pussy aching, your body limp and glistening in the dim light. sunghoon’s hand finds your thigh again, stroking you gently, his fingers brushing over your soaked skin. jake’s still kneeling beside your head, fingers combing through your damp hair, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.

you barely have time to catch your breath before niki’s fingers curl around your wrist, firm but careful as he helps pull you upright. his gaze is dark, unreadable, lips parted, chest rising with slow anticipation. you’re still trembling, sore and soaked, but when he tugs you gently toward him and settles down against the couch, spreading his legs wide and patting his thigh, you don’t hesitate.

you climb into his lap facing away, your knees bracketing his hips as your back arches and your hands brace against his thighs. his cock twitches beneath you, thick and hard, already dripping precum as he drags the head through your folds. you moan at the contact, body still oversensitive, but the burn of anticipation has your hips pushing down anyway, your cunt stretching wide to take him in.

niki groans behind you, his head falling back against the couch as your pussy swallows him inch by inch. “fuck… always knew you’d ride me like this,” he mutters, his voice low and tight. “look at that… fuckin’ perfect.”

you brace yourself as you sink fully onto his cock, the stretch making your thighs tremble, your walls clenching around him. he’s deeper like this, angled just right to hit that sweet spot with every shift of your hips. but before you can start moving, he wraps an arm around your waist and leans in to murmur against your shoulder.

“open your mouth, baby,” he says, and when you glance forward, your breath catches, sunoo and jungwon are kneeling on the floor in front of you now, their cocks hard and flushed, already in their fists.

you don’t even need to ask.

you lean forward, letting your hands find their hips for balance, and wrap your lips around sunoo’s cock first, your tongue licking up the underside as your hips start to move, bouncing slowly on niki’s cock. he moans beneath you, both hands gripping your ass as he helps you grind down on him, fucking you from below while your mouth works sunoo’s length.

sunoo whimpers the moment your lips close around him, his hands hovering uselessly at his sides before he finally gives in and threads his fingers through your hair. “shit—she’s so good,” he breathes, his cock twitching against your tongue as your head bobs in slow rhythm, matching the motion of your hips as you ride niki.

niki’s cock drags perfectly along your walls, his thrusts pushing up into you each time you sink down. your ass bounces against his thighs, the sound loud and wet, skin slapping against skin as he fucks you harder, growling behind you every time your pussy squeezes around him.

you switch to jungwon next, licking a stripe up his shaft before wrapping your lips around the head, your moans vibrating through his cock as he lets out a low, broken groan. his hand cradles your cheek, thumb brushing your jaw as he guides himself deeper into your mouth.

“she’s so fucking messy,” he mutters under his breath, his voice tight as his abs tense. “taking all of us like she was meant for this.”

niki’s pace quickens beneath you, his fingers digging into your hips as he fucks up harder, cock slamming into you over and over while your mouth drools around jungwon’s length. your body is overstimulated, raw and aching, but the sight of the boys above you—sunoo with flushed cheeks and parted lips, jungwon with that focused, dark stare—only drives you wilder.

you’re stuffed from every angle, lips stretched, cunt throbbing, your body reduced to nothing but pleasure, nothing but sensation.

sunoo’s cock slips from your lips with a soft, wet pop, strings of saliva connecting you to his tip as you gasp for breath, eyes glassy and mouth swollen. but you don’t stop—don’t even slow down. you let your head drop forward again, this time taking jungwon deeper, your lips wrapping around his shaft with eager hunger. his breath catches instantly, a strangled moan spilling from his throat as your tongue swirls around the head and you moan low, sending vibrations straight through him.

behind you, niki groans, his cock pulsing inside you as your pussy clamps down with every bounce. your ass smacks against his thighs, the rhythm loud and filthy, his hands spreading your cheeks wide to watch how wet you are, how you suck him in like you never want him to leave. “fuck—ride me just like that, baby,” he growls, thrusting up harder to meet every drop of your hips. “you feel so fucking good. so tight around me while you’ve got your mouth full of him.”

your thighs are shaking, slick dripping down the backs of them, your body overwhelmed but insatiable, every nerve ending lit up with pleasure. jungwon curses above you, voice breathless and strained as his hand fists in your hair. he doesn’t force you—just guides, just watches, eyes fluttering each time your lips slide further down his shaft.

“she’s choking on it,” he murmurs, almost in awe. “and still moving her hips like that…”

sunoo can’t take it anymore—he leans in, fingers ghosting along your jaw as he brings the head of his cock to your cheek. “open up for me again, baby,” he whispers, breath hitching. “wanna feel your tongue too.”

you tilt your head just enough to let him slide in beside jungwon, your lips stretching wide, spit pooling as you suck both of them, mouth working between their tips, switching back and forth. they both moan at the same time—low, desperate sounds—and it’s filthy, obscene, the sight of you spit-slicked and bouncing on niki’s cock while your mouth is full of two others, making their legs tremble.

niki can’t hold back anymore—he starts thrusting up harder, deeper, his grip on your hips bruising as he slams into you, cock dragging against your walls with each powerful snap. “fuck, i’m close,” he growls, watching your body ripple with every thrust, your back arched, head bobbing between sunoo and jungwon’s cocks. “you’re gonna make me fucking lose it.”

your moans are wet and muffled, drool spilling from your lips as you take them both, every part of you shaking with the force of niki’s thrusts. your walls squeeze around him like a vice, the angle hitting that perfect spot over and over, and before you can even warn him, your orgasm hits.

your body seizes, back arching, a choked cry escaping around their cocks as your pussy clenches hard around niki, milking him through your climax.

“fuck—fuck—i’m coming,” niki groans, hips jerking up one last time before he spills inside you, hot ropes of cum painting your insides, his body trembling beneath you.

your mouth doesn’t stop. you keep sucking, switching from jungwon to sunoo, moaning through the aftershocks as you chase their pleasure next. their cocks throb in your mouth, and you know they’re close—so fucking close—just waiting for your final push to unravel completely.

jungwon’s hand tightens in your hair, not to control you but because he’s barely hanging on. his breath is shaky, chest rising fast, abs flexing each time your mouth sucks him back in with that wet, eager sound that’s driven him crazy since the moment he first felt it. sunoo’s no better, his hand sliding down to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your spit-slicked skin like he can’t believe how good you feel.

“baby… please,” sunoo whimpers, his voice soft and desperate, like he’s begging for permission to let go. “fuck—just like that, don’t stop, don’t stop—”

you don’t. you bob your head faster, letting your tongue flick between both of their tips, your lips shiny and stretched, jaw aching as drool drips freely down your chin. their cocks bump together each time you move, the mess only turning them on more, and you feel both of them twitch—one in your mouth, the other pressed against your tongue, as they edge closer to release.

niki groans beneath you, still buried deep, his hands smoothing over your thighs now, coaxing gentle little rolls of your hips as you ride out the last of your orgasm. he’s sensitive—overstimulated—but he won’t move. won’t pull out. just watches, eyes locked on the way your body takes everything so willingly.

“they’re gonna come,” he murmurs behind you, voice low and hoarse with pride. “and you’re gonna let them. aren’t you, baby?”

you moan around jungwon’s cock in response, the sound vibrating through him, making his entire body shudder. his other hand finds your face, guiding you to take more—just a little more—until your lips reach the base and your nose brushes his skin.

“fuck—fuck i’m gonna—” jungwon chokes out, hips stuttering. he pulls back just in time, cock slipping from your mouth as thick, hot ropes of cum paint your tongue, your lips, your chin. he groans low, fucking into his fist as the last spurts drip onto your chest, his eyes half-lidded, ruined.

before you can swallow, sunoo’s already taking his place, his cock sliding back past your lips with a desperate thrust. “me too, baby—me too,” he gasps, and then he’s spilling into your mouth, cum hitting your tongue fast and heavy, his hips twitching as he moans your name through clenched teeth.

you stay there, perfectly still, your mouth full, your chest rising with shallow breaths, cum dripping from your lips and chin as you slowly swallow around sunoo’s softening cock. his hand strokes your hair gently now, thumbing away the mess from your cheeks, his face flushed and dazed.

you finally pull back, panting, lips puffy, every inch of your skin glistening with sweat and spit and cum. niki kisses your spine softly from behind, still seated deep inside you, his hands resting on your hips like he can’t bear to let you go just yet.

sunoo and jungwon stare at you like you’re divine—mouth still parted, body trembling, hair messy and eyes glazed with the kind of satisfaction that only comes after being thoroughly, completely fucked.

your body finally slumps forward, the adrenaline fading into something slow and heavy, every muscle limp, every nerve buzzing. your thighs tremble with the lingering aftershocks, chest heaving, lips swollen and still tasting them. you're so thoroughly used, so blissfully spent, but not once do you feel empty because the moment your body starts to give, they’re all there.

niki wraps both arms around your waist from behind, gently pulling you off his softening cock, kissing along your spine as he lays you down across the couch like you’re made of glass. his palms run over your sides, grounding and slow. “you did so good, baby,” he whispers, brushing your damp hair away from your face. “so fucking perfect.”

sunoo is already at your side with a warm towel, carefully wiping away the mess from your cheeks and chest, taking his time like it’s an act of worship. “you didn’t even hesitate,” he murmurs, his voice soft with awe. “you took care of us… we’re so lucky to have you.”

jungwon kneels beside the couch, reaching up to intertwine his fingers with yours. his thumb strokes across your knuckles slowly, his gaze warm and tender. “you okay?” he asks gently. “need water? something sweet?”

you nod faintly, lips parting, but before you even speak, jake is already returning with a water bottle and a hoodie. “here,” he says, helping you sit up just enough to sip. “you were amazing, baby. really.”

sunghoon’s on the other side now, tucking the hoodie over your head carefully, letting it drape over your bare skin. “you’re so good to us,” he says, pressing a kiss to your temple. “the way you handled all of us… fuck. i’ve never seen anything like it.”

heeseung settles at your feet, rubbing slow circles into your calf with his thumb, watching the way your lashes flutter as you start to come back to yourself. “you’re our angel,” he says softly. “and we’ll take care of you, always.”

you feel a kiss on your cheek. another on your shoulder. fingers brushing through your hair. your body might be aching, worn thin in the most delicious way but your heart is full. loved. cherished. safe.

they don’t rush you. they don’t pull away. they stay close, hands soft, touches gentle, every movement wrapped in care.

and as you curl into the warmth of their arms, a lazy smile on your lips, the last thing you hear before sleep begins to tug at your edges is a chorus of murmured praise—sweet, soft, and meant only for you.

natty's notesᝰ.ᐟ i don’t even know where to begin 🥲 premium content has become something so incredibly special to me—more than i ever imagined it would be. what started as a playful little idea slowly grew into a full story that i poured my whole heart (and a little too much filth 😵‍💫) into, and watching all of you connect with it the way you have?? it’s meant everything. the amount of love, support, messages, theories, and excitement around every chapter has completely overwhelmed me—in the best way possible. i genuinely don’t think words will ever fully express how thankful i am for this community, and how seen and supported you’ve made me feel as a writer. this fic has been a safe space for both fantasy and creativity, and to know that it has been cherished so much with love and support is all i could ever ask for. that being said… i’ve given it some thought. even though the main story has reached its final chapter (still sobbing), i’m not ready to say goodbye to these boys just yet. so i’ve decided that premium content will continue on in the form of drabbles and one-shots, whether they’re moments you request or little ideas that come to me along the way. i want to keep playing in this universe—keep exploring new scenarios and dynamics with them (and you) because this series deserves to live on a little longer 🤍 from the bottom of my heart—thank you for reading, for staying, and for loving premium content just as much as i have. i can’t wait to keep sharing more with you 🫶

the days had stretched long and heavy, each hour feeling like its own reckoning as you drifted through your apartment in a haze of unspoken thoughts and unanswered questions. your phone had remained flipped face down on your nightstand, untouched, except for the few times you’d picked it up only to stare at the screen before putting it right back down. the flowers from heeseung were wilted in their vase now, a quiet reminder of everything you thought you understood and everything that had unraveled right in front of you. you hadn’t cried—not yet—but your chest ached in that particular way where it felt like you were about to at any given moment, like your emotions sat just behind your ribs, waiting to spill. the silence of your room made it worse, every creak of the wood floor or passing car outside pulling you deeper into the loop of memories you didn’t ask to relive. each of their faces haunted you in fragments—sunoo’s soft voice, jake’s trembling hands, jungwon’s gentle kiss, niki’s teasing smirk—like echoes of something you’d convinced yourself was just content. except now it didn’t feel like content. now it felt like your heart had been split seven ways and you had no idea how to hold it together.

“i couldn’t have been so naive to this,” you breathe, voice trembling with quiet disbelief as your hands knot together in your lap, the fabric of your blanket crinkling beneath your fingers. your gaze stays locked on a spot near the edge of your comforter, eyes unfocused, as though the right words might appear there if you just stared long enough. “i should’ve known—should’ve picked up on something.” your voice breaks slightly as you shake your head. “there had to be signs. i just… i didn’t expect it at all.” the memory of their faces—shocked, unreadable, too familiar in one room—plays in a loop behind your eyes, muddling together into something far more overwhelming than anything you’d prepared for. the air still feels heavy with that moment, even now, days later, like it’s lingering in your lungs. it’s not just the realization that they all knew each other. it’s the fact that no one said anything—that they let you walk blindly into it, moment after moment, lie after silence, until it was too late to turn back.

nari sits beside you on the bed, her presence steady, warm, grounding in the way she always manages to be. her hand is wrapped around yours, thumb stroking the back of your palm in slow, thoughtful circles, and you can feel her watching you carefully. “it’s okay,” she says quietly, her tone free of judgment, but full of understanding. “you’re not wrong for feeling this way, y/n. none of this is your fault.” the way she says it—so certain, so kind—makes your throat tighten, and you swallow hard against the emotion rising in your chest. your shoulders feel tense, your heart bruised with confusion and embarrassment and something more painful that you still haven’t dared to name. you glance at her with tired eyes, trying to muster some kind of composure, but she sees through it immediately. she always does. “you just got caught in something way bigger than you thought it was,” she adds. “and that’s not on you.”

you let out a shaky sigh and pull your hand away, dragging it through your hair in one long, slow motion, fingertips catching on a few tangled strands. “i don’t even know how to feel about it all,” you whisper, your voice low. “they all acted like it was just us, like each moment was… i don’t know, ours—but they were hiding something. and i guess i was too, in a way.” your words start to unravel, slipping out of your mouth faster than you can catch them, and you pause to breathe before continuing. “and the worst part is, i can’t even say i regret it. i meant every moment. i wanted all of it.” you close your eyes, overwhelmed by the weight of that truth. “and now i don’t know if that makes me stupid, or just… human.”

“what are you planning to do now?” nari asks gently after a pause, her voice tentative but curious, knowing better than to push too hard. “do you feel the same way about all of them… or is there one who stands out?” the question lands softly, but it echoes like a drumbeat in your chest, and you stare at her, your lips parting—but no sound comes out. you shift uncomfortably on the bed, your thoughts a tangled mess of memories and sensations and words left unsaid. each boy left something behind in you—heeseung with his gentle reverence, jay with his quiet intensity, jake with the warmth that lingered after every touch, sunghoon with the sharp tension that never quite released. and then there was sunoo, vibrant and teasing and soft in a way that made you feel seen. jungwon with his eager devotion, like you were something sacred in his eyes. niki with that careful confidence, that push-and-pull that sparked something in you you hadn’t even realized was there.

you can’t choose. you don’t want to choose. but you also don’t know if walking away is any easier.

“i don’t know,” you finally whisper, your voice hoarse with emotion. “i loved filming with each of them. the connection felt real every single time. and i know that’s why this hurts so much.” you bring your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them as you rest your chin on top. “but right now, i can’t make sense of how i feel. i’m not ready to face any of them. not yet.” the silence that follows is full of tension, not awkward, but full—pregnant with unspoken fear, longing, and the ache of being pulled in too many directions at once.

nari doesn’t speak right away. she just reaches over and rests her hand on your back, her touch warm through the thin fabric of your shirt. “then don’t,” she says simply. “not until you’re ready. but when that moment comes… talk to one of them. start somewhere.” she gives you a small smile, one laced with gentle encouragement. “you don’t have to figure it all out at once, y/n. just… don’t run from it forever.”

and for the first time in days, you don’t argue.

the rain had started sometime in the late afternoon, a quiet drizzle tapping against your windowpane as you curled deeper into your blankets, your conversation with nari still echoing in the quiet corners of your mind. she’d left a few hours ago, giving your hand one last squeeze and promising you time, space, and a judgment-free shoulder if you needed it. you hadn’t moved much since. everything still felt knotted inside of you—your thoughts, your guilt, your confusion—tightening around your ribs like a drawstring pulled too tight. you hadn’t heard the doorbell at first, not over the low hum of your fan or the scattered rainfall outside, but the second knock made your heart leap into your throat. you pulled yourself upright, hesitating at the mirror to smooth your hair, though your hands shook a little with the movement. the hallway light felt too bright as you stepped toward the door, your breath caught in your chest as your fingers curled around the knob and twisted. when the door creaked open, your body stilled, stunned—because there, standing outside of the door with damp curls sticking to his forehead and his hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie, was jungwon, eyes wide like he didn’t believe he was really here either.

the sight of you—wrapped in a loose hoodie with sleep-tousled hair and eyes slightly puffy from crying—makes his breath catch in his throat as if he’s forgotten how to speak. the two of you just stare at each other for a moment, silence stretching and folding between you, the sound of soft rain falling and the warmth of your apartment curling behind you like two separate worlds. “hi,” he says finally, his voice gentle but tight at the edges, and when you don’t respond right away, just blink at him like he’s not real, he shifts awkwardly on his feet. “i… didn’t know if i should come,” he admits, glancing down as if afraid to meet your eyes again, “but i couldn’t stop thinking about you—about what happened.” your hand lingers on the doorknob, knuckles white, chest rising in slow, shallow breaths as you try to make sense of the mess of emotions clawing up your throat—shock, anger, guilt, and something softer beneath it all. “jungwon…” you breathe, finally finding the word, but nothing else comes with it, because he’s here and it’s overwhelming and all-consuming, and the ache you thought you’d buried is suddenly back in full force. his lashes flutter when you say his name, like it touches something delicate in him, and he nods once, then looks past you like he’s unsure if he’s allowed to cross the threshold. “can i come in?” he asks quietly, and there’s something in the way he says it—tentative, respectful, but laced with longing—that makes you step back without thinking, letting the door swing wider as he steps inside, into the space that’s felt too quiet without him.

you close the door behind him gently, the quiet click echoing louder than expected in the small space, and for a moment neither of you move. jungwon stands in the middle of your living room like he’s unsure whether he belongs there, hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie as his eyes slowly scan the room before settling back on you. “i thought maybe seeing you would help me understand how i feel,” he admits softly, his voice barely above a whisper, like he’s afraid saying it too loud might scare you off. “but now that i’m here, i think i’ve always known.” the words make your heart stutter, and you find yourself slowly crossing the room, arms folding loosely over your chest like a shield you’re not sure you want to keep up. “why did you come, jungwon?” you ask, and the question doesn’t carry anger, only a tired sort of sadness, the kind that lingers after too many nights spent thinking in circles. he looks up at you then, really looks at you, and something about the way his eyes soften breaks something open inside you.

“because i miss you,” he says simply, but there’s so much weight packed into those three words that you feel your breath catch in your chest. “not just what we did. i miss how you made me feel—like i was important, like you saw something in me that no one else does.” the words hit you like a wave, crashing against the wall you’ve been trying so hard to keep standing, and you press your fingers into your arm to ground yourself, to remind yourself this is real. jungwon takes a small step closer, testing the distance like he’s not sure how far he’s allowed to go, and his voice grows softer, more vulnerable. “it was my first time… all of it. not just physically, but feeling this way about someone—this… deep, gnawing thing that hasn’t left me since i met you.” your throat tightens, fingers twitching at your side, unsure whether to reach for him or protect yourself. “you don’t have to say anything,” he adds quickly, misreading the silence as rejection, “i just needed you to know.”

“you don’t understand how complicated this is,” you murmur, the emotion thick in your throat as your gaze drops to the floor, unable to meet his for too long. “i didn’t expect any of this—i didn’t know it would get so messy.” jungwon nods slowly, and you watch the way his brows pull together, how he chews the inside of his cheek like he’s trying to find the right words. “i know,” he says, voice barely audible, “and i wish i could fix it for you. i’d take it all away if it meant you’d stop hurting.” the gentleness in his voice makes your stomach twist painfully, and for a moment you want nothing more than to step forward, to bury yourself in his warmth and let him hold all the pieces you’ve been too afraid to share. “it’s just… hard,” you whisper, more to yourself than to him, and his eyes flicker with something fierce, something aching and patient all at once.

he steps closer again, now just an arm’s length away, and you can see every detail of his face—the tiny scar above his brow, the redness in his eyes, the quiet desperation in the way his lips part but hesitate. “i don’t want to lose you,” he says finally, voice cracking at the edges, “even if it means waiting, even if it means watching you figure everything out.” your breath hitches, and the room suddenly feels smaller, warmer, like the air itself has thickened around you. “i’m not asking you to choose,” he adds, almost as if reading your mind, “i just want you to know that for me… it was never just a video.” your heart aches, the confession echoing through every bone in your body, and you finally look up at him again, eyes glistening with everything you’ve been holding in.

jungwon’s eyes widen slightly when he sees the way your lips part, the way your breath trembles, and it’s like he wants to reach for you but stops himself out of respect. “you don’t have to love me,” he whispers, “but please… don’t shut me out.” his voice is so raw, so open, that it slices right through you, and you don’t realize your fingers are trembling until you clench them into fists to stop the shake. “i’m scared,” you confess for the first time, your voice as soft as the rain tapping against the window, “because i felt something with you too, and that’s the part that terrifies me.” the honesty hangs there between you, bare and unfiltered, and jungwon’s expression shifts into something painfully tender.

he nods, slow and understanding, and finally takes the last step toward you, close enough that his fingers could graze yours if either of you moved. “then let me be scared with you,” he murmurs, “we don’t have to figure it all out tonight.” your chest swells, eyes stinging, and for a moment all you can do is breathe him in—his scent, his warmth, the fragile hope wrapped around his words. “i don’t know what’s going to happen,” you admit, “but i don’t want to pretend like it meant nothing either.” his lips curve into the faintest smile, eyes shining as he whispers, “then that’s enough for me.” and in the quiet that follows, as you stand inches apart, you realize that maybe—just maybe—you don’t have to carry this alone anymore.

jungwon’s gaze dips to your lips for just a second—barely a flicker—but it’s enough to set off a rush of heat through your entire body, soft and slow and consuming. you don’t move right away, your breath shallow as your eyes search his face, every inch of him brimming with something that looks dangerously close to hope. your fingers twitch at your side before reaching up on instinct, brushing lightly against the edge of his hoodie sleeve, just enough to ground yourself in the moment. “come here,” you whisper, the words barely audible but enough to have him lean forward, hesitantly, like he still doesn’t believe you’ll let him. but you do—you meet him halfway, your hand curling at the base of his neck as your lips press gently into his, warmth spilling from the point of contact like it’s been waiting to ignite all along.

he kisses you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear—slow at first, almost cautious, his hand moving to your waist with such care it makes your chest ache. you press in closer, your free hand resting over his chest where his heart is racing, its rhythm frantic beneath your touch. the kiss deepens naturally, growing hungrier without losing its tenderness, the kind of kiss that says too much without needing words. jungwon sighs softly against your lips, like he’s finally breathing for the first time in days, and you feel the way his shoulders drop as your touch pulls him in. your thumb brushes along the side of his jaw, feeling the way it tenses slightly under the emotion threatening to spill out of him. his hand curls tighter around your waist, not possessive, just needing—just wanting to be close to you without letting it slip away too soon.

when you pull back just slightly, lips parted and noses still brushing, his eyes are already glassy, a soft pink blooming high on his cheeks as he exhales through a quiet laugh. “that was…” he starts, but the words falter, and he just shakes his head gently, a crooked, lovesick smile curving at his lips. “yeah,” you breathe, matching his energy, forehead resting gently against his as you close your eyes for a moment, letting yourself feel everything at once. he doesn’t rush the silence, doesn’t push for anything more—just lets the weight of what just passed between you settle into the stillness of the room. his thumb strokes a slow line along your waist, and you swear you could fall apart just from the way he holds you, like you’re the only person who’s ever mattered. “i could stay like this forever,” he mumbles, voice thick, and your heart twists painfully in your chest because you know you can’t promise that just yet.

—

this day already felt lighter than the one before, the air in your apartment somehow less heavy, your thoughts no longer as fogged and chaotic. after everything that had happened, the silence, the tension, the messy unraveling of all the truths you didn’t ask to know—you found yourself carrying a bit more clarity today. jungwon’s visit the night before had stirred something in you, grounding you in a way you hadn’t expected. it made you realize that you were allowed to take your time, to breathe, to feel all of it at once without rushing toward a decision. so maybe it was that small pocket of peace that gave you the courage to reach out to heeseung—the first.

he was the one you’d started everything with, the one who made you feel wanted before you even understood what you were diving into. it felt right to face him now, with more steadiness in your chest and a little less fear. the memory of the bouquet he once gave you still lingered in your room—its colors now dulled, petals soft and scattered across the surface of your nightstand, a quiet reminder of something that bloomed fast and never really faded. 

the knock on your door comes soft but sure, drawing you gently out of your thoughts. you push yourself off the couch, the floor cool beneath your feet as you walk to the door with your heart pressing steadily in your chest. when you open it, there he is—tall and striking in the glow of the late afternoon sun, his pinkish hair styled just the way you remember it, though maybe a little softer now. his eyes meet yours, a glint of something hopeful flickering in them as he lets out a breath.

“hi, princess…” he says, the petname falling from his lips like it had been waiting all this time, tucked away just for this moment. you feel the weight of it settle warmly in your chest.

“hi,” you respond, voice gentle as you step aside to let him in. “come in.”

he steps in slowly, his eyes scanning the apartment like he’s cataloging the changes, like he’s trying to trace where he used to stand, where you used to sit, where it all began. he moves with quiet reverence, shoulders rising slightly with each breath, and you watch the way his hand brushes down the side of his jeans as if he needs something to do, somewhere to place the nervous energy building between you both. you close the door behind him gently, your fingers curling around the handle for a second too long before you turn to face him again. for a moment, neither of you says anything. the silence stretches, but it isn’t empty—it’s full of everything that was left unsaid.

“i didn’t think i’d get to see you again like this,” heeseung says finally, his voice softer than you remember, like it’s been sanded down by time and longing. his gaze lingers on your face, searching, careful, like he’s trying to figure out how much of you is still his to read. “you look… you look beautiful.” you smile, barely, because even though the compliment makes your chest flutter, there’s still a tension winding through your spine, coiled from everything that’s happened since the last time you were together.

“thank you,” you reply, your voice nearly a whisper as you gesture toward the couch. “do you want to sit?” he nods quickly and moves to the couch while you follow behind, your heart thudding just a little harder with every step. you sit beside him—not too close, not too far—and he leans forward with his elbows on his knees, hands clasped between them like he’s bracing himself.

“i’ve been thinking about you a lot,” he admits, eyes cast down to the floor before flicking back up to yours. “not just about what we did. but the way you made me feel. the way i still feel.” his words hang between you like steam off a hot drink, curling and invisible and so very real. you feel the lump form in your throat, emotion creeping up the edges of your chest as he continues.

“i didn’t mean for any of this to get so complicated,” he says, shaking his head slowly, brows furrowing. “at first it was only for quick video, just for fun until it wasn’t anymore.” you watch his fingers tighten around themselves, a small tremble in his voice that he doesn’t try to hide.

you sit there quietly, your own heart pulling painfully because you know his words are true—you felt that tenderness in every touch, in the way he looked at you like he was afraid he’d ruin something just by holding on too tightly. “i kept the flowers,” you say softly, your eyes flicking to the hallway. “they’re still on my nightstand.”

heeseung lifts his head, and something in his expression crumples at your words. “you did?” he asks, and when you nod, he smiles—just barely, but it’s the kind that reaches his eyes. “i thought maybe they’d be gone. like everything else.”

you shake your head, your voice quiet but steady. “you weren’t ever nothing to me, heeseung.”

a silence falls again, this one more tender, more full of the ache that builds when two people want each other but don’t know how to fix what’s broken. then, carefully, you reach out and place your hand over his, your fingers sliding gently between his. he turns his palm to meet yours, the contact soft but grounding.

“i wanted to see you today because i needed to know if what we had meant something,” you say, your gaze steady on his. “i needed to know if you still saw me the same way.”

his thumb brushes across your knuckles slowly, reverently, like he’s memorizing the feel of your skin. “i never stopped seeing you that way. i never stopped wanting you.”

heeseung’s fingers remain laced with yours, his thumb tracing small, reverent circles against the back of your hand as if grounding himself through your touch. there’s something in his expression that looks both overwhelmed and awestruck, like seeing you up close again is too much and yet not nearly enough. your knees brush lightly as you shift a little on the couch, turning to face him fully, and your chest tightens at the way his gaze lingers on every part of you—your eyes, your mouth, your expression—as if he’s searching for something familiar and finding everything he missed. the air between you feels fragile but charged, delicate yet thick with things unsaid, with feelings that had been buried under the weight of time, of silence, of complicated truths. “i’ve missed you,” heeseung breathes finally, his voice soft but raw, like the words have been sitting on the tip of his tongue since the day he let you walk away. your lips part to answer, to say something, anything, but all that slips out is a quiet, breathless hum as you squeeze his hand in return, heart fluttering at the vulnerability spilling through his voice. he leans closer, the tip of his nose brushing yours, and you can feel the way his breath trembles when he exhales—like he’s holding back everything he wants to say in favor of showing it instead. “can i kiss you?” he whispers, the question not rushed, not desperate, just reverent, and the simple sincerity in it makes your throat tighten. you nod slowly, eyes fluttering shut, and the world seems to still the moment his lips meet yours.

his kiss is gentle—almost too gentle at first—like he’s afraid you’ll vanish beneath him, afraid this might be a dream he doesn’t want to wake from. he kisses you with aching slowness, like every second counts, every brush of his mouth against yours an apology, a confession, a hope. his free hand finds your jaw, thumb sliding softly beneath your ear as he deepens the kiss with a quiet sigh, his body curling into yours like he wants to shield you from the rest of the world. you respond in kind, melting into him, your fingers slipping over his shoulder and gripping the fabric of his hoodie as you pull him closer, needing him near, needing this to feel as real as it does. his tongue brushes lightly against your bottom lip and you open for him without hesitation, your breath catching as the kiss grows more certain, more full—still tender, still careful, but laced now with something rawer, something deeper. you can feel how much he’s holding back, how much emotion is pressed into the way he kisses you, like he’s trying to speak in a language you’ll never forget. when he finally pulls away, it’s only by an inch, his forehead resting against yours and his lips still barely brushing yours as he exhales, shaky and full of meaning. “you feel like home,” he murmurs, almost to himself, like the words weren’t planned but tumbled out without permission. you feel your heart crack open just a little more at that, your eyes fluttering open to meet his as he stares at you like you’re the only thing in the universe worth looking at.

heeseung’s thumb brushes against your cheek as he studies you, the softness in his eyes darkening just slightly with something more serious. “have you made a choice yet?” he asks, voice low and careful, not demanding but deeply curious, like your answer holds the weight of everything between you. your lips part with a slow exhale, fingers tightening gently around his. “i have,” you admit, heart fluttering against your ribs like it’s been waiting for this moment too. “but i want to tell everyone at once... i owe them that.” the honesty sits between you, heavy but right, and heeseung nods slowly, the corners of his lips lifting into a small, knowing smile. “then let me help,” he murmurs, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple with quiet resolve. “come with me—i’ll take care of everything,” he adds, already pulling you gently to your feet as your stomach flips in anticipation.

you follow him to the front door, slipping on your shoes as he keeps a steady hand on your lower back, his presence steadying and grounding. the sunlight outside has softened into a golden wash, casting long shadows as the two of you step out into the cool air and head toward his car. his fingers stay laced with yours the entire walk to the passenger side, his thumb tracing calm, thoughtless circles that make your chest tighten with quiet affection. once inside, the engine hums to life, and the low volume of the radio blends into the comforting silence between you—one filled with unspoken meaning rather than awkwardness. you glance at him as he drives, taking in the quiet confidence in his profile, the way his jaw tightens slightly like he’s focused on making this go right. “where are we going?” you ask softly, eyes flicking to the road ahead as he turns onto a familiar street. “my place,” he answers, flashing you a quick glance that’s both reassuring and something deeper. “i told the rest to meet me there around six. it’s time.”

—

you thought this moment would come with more clarity, more poise, maybe even peace—but instead your nerves are coiling inside you like tightly wound string, every eye in the room weighing down on your chest. they’re all here, seated or standing in the living room, each gaze fixed squarely on you, some soft and unsure, others unreadable, but more than a few linger a second too long on your lips. the silence presses in as you shift your weight between your feet, fingers nervously twisting around each other, heart hammering like it’s being wrung out with every second you wait. “before i say anything else, i just have one thing i need to ask,” you begin, your voice quiet but unwavering as your eyes stay rooted to the floorboards. “why didn’t any of you tell me you all knew each other? was i not someone worth being honest with?” your voice wavers slightly, the first crack blooming beneath your ribs as your eyes rise slowly to meet theirs, glassy with heat you refuse to let spill. “i was naive enough to not put the pieces together, but still—there were no signs, no indication, and now i just feel... stupid.”

he confession sits heavy in your throat, your chest tightening as their silence grows denser around you, no one moving to speak just yet. “a part of me felt like i was being played,” you continue, voice just above a whisper now, “like maybe it was a joke to you all, something funny you could talk about behind closed doors.” you shake your head gently, a bitter laugh escaping under your breath as you draw in a shaky inhale. “and i hate thinking like that—i really do—because none of you made me feel that way when we were together. each of you showed me a side of yourselves that i let myself believe was real, something intimate i gave myself up to without hesitation.” your gaze flicks up again, landing on familiar faces you’ve memorized in far different settings, now unreadable and complicated. “i didn’t want to be seen as a game or some experiment, some anonymous figure who you all could just try out to see what the hype was.” the words taste like guilt and doubt and something rawer, something closer to heartbreak.

“i know i agreed to all of it,” you admit, quieter now, “and i know this was supposed to be just content—but somewhere along the way, i let my guard down, and i can’t help but feel foolish for it.” your eyes sting, but you blink quickly, refusing to let your vulnerability show any more than it already has. “my mind kept spiraling… thinking maybe it was for clout, or worse—a bet.” your voice tightens on the last word, the pressure mounting behind your sternum like a dam about to split. “i mean, why else would seven people—all so successful in their own right—end up so tangled in one girl’s content?” your arms cross instinctively over your chest as your gaze drops again, a protective reflex you didn’t know you still had left. “i just didn’t think i’d become so attached,” you finish, barely above a whisper now, “not when i promised myself i wouldn’t.”

the room remains still for a moment until finally, someone speaks—sunghoon. he leans forward slightly from his seat, elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped tightly together like he’s been holding them still for hours. “i did it to understand,” he says, voice calm but honest, eyes trained directly on yours. “heeseung and jay—i’ve never seen them so... different. they wouldn’t stop talking about you, about how filming with you felt like something else entirely.” he lets out a slow breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “i got curious, nosy even, and maybe that was selfish—but it wasn’t for a laugh. i wanted to know what they meant when they said you made them feel something.” his voice softens further. “and when i met you… when we actually filmed together… it wasn’t about curiosity anymore. it was about you.”

“you made me feel something that night that i haven’t been able to shake since,” sunghoon confesses, leaning in just enough to make your breath catch. “you were gentle and confident and so goddamn sincere, and it hit me all at once that this wasn’t just content. not for me. not for any of us.” he sits back, gaze still locked to yours with something so open and raw it makes your chest ache. “i want to know more about you, y/n. not just the version i’ve seen in front of the camera, but all of you—the real parts you haven’t let anyone else see yet.” you can’t move. can’t speak. can only stare, your entire world tipped sideways again as the weight of his words settles into the silence. and somehow, deep down, you know he isn’t the only one who feels this way.

you don’t expect heeseung to speak next, not when he’s sitting so still, elbows on his knees, fingers woven together like he’s trying to physically hold himself back, but the moment sunghoon’s voice fades into silence, he lifts his head and locks eyes with you—and it’s like the air changes. “do you want to know why i never told you?” he asks quietly, and the sharp edge in his tone startles you. “because i didn’t want this to happen.” his voice is raw now, thick with something deeper than just frustration—it’s laced with regret, with something so heavy it nearly takes your breath away. “i didn’t want you to look at us like this. like we were playing you, like we were some fucking group project you didn’t sign up for. because that’s not what this ever was for me.” he shifts forward, closer than before, and you can feel the warmth of his stare—burning, sincere, full of tension he’s tried too hard to contain. “you were the first one. you were the one who made all of this real in the first place. i didn’t go into it thinking anything would happen, didn’t think i’d care beyond a good collab and moving on—but then you looked at me, touched me like i was more than a body in a video, and i’ve been fucked ever since.” he runs a hand through his hair, jaw tightening. “and then jay, then jake, then everyone else started acting different. like they were seeing the same thing i saw in you. and i hated it—hated how much it made me feel like i was losing something that was never even mine to begin with.” his gaze hardens for just a second before softening again, dropping momentarily to your lips, and then right back to your eyes. “but you were mine first. and maybe that doesn’t mean anything now, maybe i don’t have the right to claim you, but it means something to me. you were the start of all this, and if i had known where it would lead, i swear to god i would’ve stopped it. i would’ve kept you all to myself. because the way you made me feel that night—like i was the only one in the world who mattered—it hasn’t gone away. and i don’t think it ever will.”

the tension in the room thickens like a storm front, heavy and static as niki shifts forward in his seat, his jaw tight, his expression unreadable but brimming with heat. his eyes don’t leave heeseung as he speaks, low and firm, the weight of his words making the air feel colder. “you don’t get to claim her just because you were the first,” he says, each syllable slow and deliberate, cutting through the silence like a blade. “we all feel something for her, heeseung—we all gave a part of ourselves, even if it was just once. you think that just because you had her first, that gives you some kind of head start?” his voice cracks slightly with frustration, his throat tight with everything he’s been holding back. “you think the rest of us don’t lie awake at night replaying every moment we shared with her?” he exhales sharply through his nose, shaking his head as he finally looks away, trying to compose himself. “you might’ve met her before us, but don’t you dare act like our feelings are any less real.”

heeseung’s gaze flickers, the smugness gone from his face, replaced by something harder to name—guilt, maybe, or the realization that this isn’t as simple as he thought. his fingers curl into fists at his sides, and for a moment, he doesn’t speak, like the air’s been knocked out of him by the sheer honesty of niki’s words. niki, still staring ahead, continues, his tone softer now but no less intense, the vulnerability beneath his confidence slipping through. “we all watched her change us, one by one. we all wanted to be enough.” the truth hangs there, raw and exposed, something none of them dared to voice until now. the room stills again, no one daring to move as the weight of what niki said settles across them like a shadow. you sit there in the center of it all, your heart thudding against your ribs, overwhelmed by the way each of them keeps proving that this isn’t just about lust—it’s about longing. and now, with no more room to pretend, you realize you have a choice to make—but you’re not the only one trembling at the thought of what comes next.

you sit frozen for a moment, eyes flicking between them all as the tension coils tighter, like a thread pulled taut. your heart aches at the way their voices shake, the way niki's honesty echoes in the room, the way heeseung swallows down words that almost seem too heavy to say. they're all hurting, you realize—caught in a war that none of you asked for but all of you helped build. your hands clasp together tightly in your lap as you inhale slowly, grounding yourself in the weight of this decision, in the pounding of your pulse. “okay,” you breathe out, voice quiet but steady, the softness of it enough to draw their attention. “that’s enough. i didn’t bring you all here to tear each other apart or fight for some title.” your eyes lift, watery and raw, as you meet each gaze in turn. “i brought you here because i’ve already made my choice.”

they’re still now, completely still, like the whole room is holding its breath with you. the words sit heavy on your tongue, but once they start spilling, they don’t stop. “i want all of you,” you confess, voice trembling just enough to show how deeply you mean it. “i want every single one of you, because i can’t choose. i won’t.” your throat tightens as you shake your head, fingers loosening as you let your hands fall into your lap. “i fell for different parts of you—for heeseung’s quiet tenderness, for jay’s intensity, for jake’s gentleness, for sunghoon’s fire, for sunoo’s light, for jungwon’s sincerity, and for niki’s depth.” the silence after your words is thick and warm, the kind that lingers after truth is laid bare. “how could i ever ask myself to only want one, when loving each of you felt just as real?”

you watch their faces shift—eyes widening, jaws slack, mouths parting slightly as they take in your confession. “it would destroy me to choose,” you whisper, eyes flicking downward before rising again. “because no matter who i’d pick, i'd lose the rest. and i already know i can’t handle that. not when you’ve each carved out places inside me that i can’t just ignore.” you look toward the ground again as your heart pounds louder in your chest, afraid of the silence that follows, but determined not to take the words back. “i know this might not make sense. maybe it’s selfish of me,” you admit, biting the inside of your cheek. “but if any of you are willing to set your jealousy aside... if you’re open to seeing where this can really go with me... together... i want that.”

there’s a crack in your voice by the end, a thread of fear that still lives there, but it’s softened by the truth. you’re scared—of being rejected, of being seen differently, of being too much—but your heart has never been this certain. you watch them, one by one, as they absorb every word, their expressions unreadable at first, slowly melting into something more complicated than anger or longing. you feel vulnerable, standing in front of them with your soul laid bare, but there’s something freeing in it too—like finally stepping into your own truth. “i’m not asking for easy,” you add softly. “but i am asking you to try. because i know what i feel, and i know it’s real. i just need to know if you feel it too.”

there’s a pause—a soft breath in the room, almost like the air itself is waiting for someone to move first. it’s jake who does. he steps forward slowly, his eyes never leaving yours, wide and warm and glassy with emotion. your heart jumps into your throat as he comes closer, the tension in your shoulders locking into place before he lifts a hand gently to the side of your face. his palm is warm, thumb brushing along your cheek, and for a moment, he just looks at you—really looks at you—like he’s memorizing every inch. and then, before you can even react, his lips are on yours in a kiss so full of longing that your knees nearly give out.

his mouth moves slowly against yours at first, reverent, like he’s worshipping the very moment. “i’ll do it,” he breathes against your lips, the words brushing into your skin like a promise. “i’ll do anything… anything that involves you in it.” another kiss, deeper this time, as he tilts your head just enough to make it last longer. “if it means sharing this with them,” he murmurs between kisses, “i’ll do it in a heartbeat.” your fingers instinctively clutch at the fabric of his shirt, overwhelmed by the honesty spilling from his mouth and the way he kisses you like he’s been holding back for years. “because at the end of the day,” he whispers, his forehead resting against yours, “i’ll have the girl that’s been living in my head since the first time i touched her.”

he doesn’t say it in a rush or in a way that demands a response. it’s gentle, unwavering, and raw. you can feel the truth of it in the way he holds you, in the way his hands don’t wander but stay grounded—one at your jaw, one steady at your waist. there’s something grounding about jake, even in a room full of shifting feelings and emotional chaos. the others don’t interrupt, not yet, watching in a stillness that holds no bitterness. maybe because they feel it too—that this is jake’s moment, and yours. he brushes a strand of hair away from your face before dipping down again, placing a kiss on the corner of your lips like punctuation.

“i want this,” he says quietly, so only you can hear. “you… all of this. whatever it looks like, however messy it gets. if it’s with you, i’m in.” his arms come around you gently, not caging you in, but welcoming you in fully. and for a brief, shimmering moment, everything in you softens—like your heart finally knows what safety tastes like. the room is still again, but it’s different now. the tone has shifted, charged not with tension, but with choice. jake chose you—fully, freely, and with everything he has.

the moment jake finally steps back from you, the air feels heavier, charged with anticipation as your gaze slowly shifts to sunoo. he stands a little apart from the others, eyes glassy, his fingers knotted together in front of him like he’s holding himself back from something—like he’s terrified to move forward and even more terrified to be left behind. “are you really sure about this?” he asks, voice feather-soft but laced with something raw, something cracked. “you can reject me if that’s what’s in your heart,” he continues, not meeting your eyes now, lashes lowered as his throat bobs with a swallow that nearly breaks your own heart, “i just… i don’t want you to choose this out of guilt. not for me. not for any of us.” your breath catches in your throat at the trembling in his tone, at how small he suddenly looks despite the strength he’s shown in every other setting, and it’s that look—that aching vulnerability—that makes your feet move before you can think. your hands rise gently to cup his face, thumbs brushing softly against the warm streaks of tears trailing down his cheeks, and his lips part on a quiet gasp as he finally looks at you. “sunoo,” you whisper, your voice just as shaky now, but steady in its conviction, “you don’t understand. this isn’t something i’m doing to protect anyone… it’s what i want.”

your forehead leans against his as his breath hitches, his hands slowly coming up to hold your wrists, gentle like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. “i want you,” you whisper again, your eyes falling shut as the tears burn behind your lids, “i want all of you, because each of you mean something to me that i can’t ignore.” your voice grows steadier as you go on, your words pouring out like a confession you’ve waited days to finally admit. “i’ve thought about it over and over—what it would feel like to choose just one of you, to let the others go, and it doesn’t feel right. it never did. i care for each of you so deeply, in ways i never expected to, and the idea of losing any of you just…” your breath shakes as you pull back slightly, enough to look at him fully, your eyes glossy but unwavering. “i wouldn’t survive it. and if you’ll let me—if you all will—i want to try. all of us… together.”

there’s a silence that settles over the room again, but this time, it feels entirely different—charged, pulsing, expectant. your lips are still tingling from the soft pressure of sunoo’s breath, your hands trembling slightly at your sides now that you’ve said everything out loud. and then, from the left, you feel movement—slow, assured footsteps that draw closer with every second until jay stands before you, his expression unreadable but his eyes burning with something deep and golden. “you have no idea what this means to us,” he says quietly, his voice thick with emotion and want, his fingers lifting gently to brush a strand of hair away from your face. and then he’s kissing you—not rushed or ravenous, but like he’s waited far too long and doesn’t want to scare the moment away, his lips fitting over yours with practiced heat, with reverence, with something deeper than desire. your breath catches in your throat as his hand curls around your waist, holding you steady while your body begins to lean into his instinctively, already craving more. and when he pulls back, barely, just far enough for his mouth to brush against your cheekbone, he whispers, “you’re all i’ve wanted since that first night, and i would’ve followed you anywhere, even if you didn’t choose me.” you barely have time to recover before another warmth presses behind you, and a mouth finds your shoulder.

it’s sunghoon, his presence unmistakable from the soft drag of his lips over the skin between your neck and your collarbone, his arm coiling loosely around your waist from behind as if to ground you there. “we’re not going to let you go now,” he murmurs between slow, featherlight kisses, his nose nuzzling the slope of your throat like he’s already addicted to the way you smell. “you made your choice,” he continues, his voice husky now, deeper than before, “and we’re going to show you how happy we are that you did.” heeseung comes next, his hand sliding up to gently cradle your jaw, tipping your chin toward him with such tenderness that your eyes flutter open just in time to see the raw adoration written across his face. he doesn’t kiss you right away—he just stares, long enough to let the moment bloom between you, then dips down slowly, reverently, until his lips meet yours in a kiss that feels like everything you’ve both been holding back. and while your lips mold together, you feel jake’s hands at your hips, guiding your body just slightly toward his so he can lean in and press his mouth to the curve of your neck. “i don’t care what this looks like to the rest of the world,” he breathes, his fingers tightening on your waist as he speaks. “i’ll take whatever this is if it means i get to have you.”

sunoo’s back at your side now, his arms wrapping around you in a way that feels both delicate and possessive, his lips brushing over the top of your shoulder while he whispers, “you’re everything to us now… just tell us what you need.” and last comes jungwon, standing before you with a gaze that could melt stone, his mouth parting slightly as he leans in and presses the softest, slowest kiss to your temple. “we’re yours,” he says simply, his thumb brushing under your eye like he’s memorizing you, like he’s afraid this will vanish into smoke if he doesn’t touch you one more time. their hands are on you now—light, worshipful, lingering touches to your arms, your waist, your back, your hips—as if they’ve all silently agreed that this is the beginning of something sacred, something not just born from lust, but the kind of devotion that simmers underneath every word, every glance, every video that ever led to this moment. your head is swimming, not from confusion, but from the weight of being seen and wanted this wholly, this completely, this truthfully—and you’re ready now. ready for whatever comes next.

niki doesn’t wait—doesn’t ask, doesn’t hesitate—his hands grip your waist suddenly and pull you effortlessly down into his lap, your knees straddling his thighs before your mind can catch up to the motion. the air rushes from your lungs at the feel of him beneath you, hard and warm, as his lips crash into yours like he’s been starving for them, like every second of restraint from earlier has finally broken free. he kisses you hungrily, teeth grazing your lower lip as his tongue licks into your mouth with a sense of urgency that makes your head spin and your fingers clutch at his shoulders. behind you, you feel hands ghosting along your back—softer, steadier—and when you glance over your shoulder, it’s jungwon who’s there, his expression serious but his hands reverent as they slide up your blouse. “let me take this off,” he murmurs, and the words are so gentle, so respectful, that you nod before he even finishes, letting your arms lift as he pulls the fabric over your head and exposes your bare skin to the cool air. you feel eyes on you immediately—heat radiating not just from niki beneath you, but from the way the rest of the boys have now seated themselves along the couch beside him, each of them watching intently as if hypnotized. jay’s jaw is tense but his gaze is soft, while sunghoon leans forward, arms resting on his knees like he’s holding himself back from moving toward you right then. heeseung’s eyes are dark and unreadable, but his hand has flexed into a fist on his thigh, and jake’s already licking his bottom lip slowly, like he’s imagining what it’d taste like to kiss you again.

your breath shudders as niki mouths at your neck now, his teeth scraping lightly along your collarbone before his hands come around to slide up your spine, holding you closer, firmer against him. “fuck,” he mutters against your skin, almost like a prayer, “you’re so goddamn perfect like this.” jungwon’s fingertips trail down your sides, caressing every inch like he’s cataloging you by touch alone, but he stays close, not wanting to take over—just wanting to be near you, to feel your skin under his palms while niki devours your mouth again. there’s a tension building in the room now, not the kind that burns quickly, but the kind that simmers—slow, aching, anticipatory—as if each of them is waiting for their turn, watching carefully, memorizing the way your body moves and responds. and in the center of it all, you feel it—the control, the attention, the heat—your pulse hammering under your skin as you sit there on niki’s lap with your blouse gone, your breath shared between kisses and the knowledge that this is only the beginning.

niki’s hands slide under your skirt like they’ve been waiting their whole life to do it, his touch so warm and certain as his fingers trace the soft inside of your thigh. he’s teasing at first, ghosting over where you need him most, while his other hand anchors you to him with a possessive grip on your hip. behind you, jungwon presses closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear before lowering to your neck, kissing slow and tender as if to soothe the ache building inside of you. he starts to suck at the skin just below your jaw, soft at first, then deeper, like he wants to leave his mark there—wants everyone else to see where he’s been. sunoo moves in next, his expression unreadable but his hands delicate as they help slide the remaining straps from your bra down your shoulders, careful with every touch. you feel him press a kiss just above your heart before his mouth finds your breast, sucking gently, then with growing intensity, his tongue swirling over your nipple until it hardens under his attention. your body arches against all of them—niki’s fingers edging closer, jungwon’s lips dragging fire down your skin, sunoo’s mouth wrapped around you—and the sensation of it all has you moaning helplessly, the sound slipping out like a secret you can’t contain. the others are still seated but watching, their eyes dark, their jaws tight, and every time you glance at one of them—heeseung’s lips parting slightly, jay’s brow twitching with restraint, sunghoon’s leg bouncing, jake’s tongue dragging over his bottom lip—you feel their words melt into your ears, murmured filth that makes your thighs tremble and your body cry out for more.

you feel like you’re floating, surrounded by heat and hands and mouths, and every time your eyes flutter open, you’re met with the dark, starved gazes of the others watching from the couch, eyes low, hands twitching, jaws clenched in restraint. they whisper to you from where they sit, each voice distinct—jake’s low and velvety, heeseung’s rougher, jay’s dripping with praise, sunghoon’s smooth and taunting—and their words wrap around you like a silk ribbon, reminding you who you belong to now.

you hear jake’s voice first, quiet and close, a little cracked around the edges like he’s barely holding himself together. “look at you, baby… so good for them already,” he murmurs, and your head turns weakly toward him, lips parted in a gasp as niki presses harder against your clothed clit. “i’ll have you moaning louder than that soon. just wait.” jay chuckles lowly beside him, eyes dragging down your body like he’s committing every detail to memory. “our perfect little girl,” he hums, “so responsive. so fucking pretty when she’s falling apart like this.” sunghoon leans forward slightly, his hand gripping the edge of the cushion like he’s resisting the urge to lunge. “can’t believe we’ve all been holding back like this,” he mutters, “fuck—i need to hear her say my name.” you tilt your head back as another breathless moan slips from your lips, and heeseung’s gaze snaps to your face, his eyes dark and wide, throat working as he swallows hard. “just like that, baby,” he encourages you, voice tight. “you look so good like this, fuck, i can’t wait to taste you again.”

niki finally slides the fabric aside, two fingers slipping between your folds, and the room fades around you for a second—all you can feel is him, slowly curling up inside of you as his lips stay locked to yours. you moan so loudly into his mouth that even sunoo pauses, glancing up at your face with a blown-out look of awe. your walls clench around niki’s fingers, your legs trembling, hips jerking forward as he strokes you from the inside like he’s trying to memorize every texture.

the contrast of cool air on your skin and their warm hands makes your spine arch and your lips part again, another moan slipping past as you instinctively roll your hips into niki’s palm. sunoo’s mouth is back on your breasts, hungrier now, his tongue flicking fast while his teeth graze softly over your skin and his hands hold you in place. jungwon trails open-mouthed kisses across your collarbone, whispering things you can’t fully hear—something about how beautiful you are, how soft, how perfect this moment is. you can’t respond, too lost in sensation, too wrapped up in the way all three of them are touching you at once while the others look on, voices overlapping like a filthy chorus of praise.

jake stands from the couch finally, unable to keep still, his hands running through his hair as he makes his way toward you, biting down on his lip to suppress a groan. he kneels next to niki, close enough for your thighs to brush his arm, and you can’t help but reach for him, your fingers curling around the front of his shirt. he leans in, tilts your chin up, and kisses you like he’s been aching for it—slow, deep, greedy. he tastes like longing and devotion and a touch of desperation, like he’s afraid if he doesn’t kiss you now, he might never get the chance again. heeseung’s next, walking around behind you with a look in his eyes that’s equal parts reverence and hunger, fingers gently threading through your hair before leaning down to kiss the spot on your neck that jungwon had left behind. jay follows, his hand slipping around your side to hold your waist as he presses a kiss to your shoulder, his lips lingering a moment too long like he’s savoring your taste. sunghoon brushes his knuckles over your thigh, gaze focused and lips parted as he slowly drops to his knees, his head close to jake’s, his breath ghosting over your skin. they’re surrounding you now—touching, kissing, whispering, hungry.

you feel like the air has changed—thicker, sweeter, laced with something electric that crackles over your skin and makes you whimper as niki pumps his fingers deeper inside you. your head falls back again, your breath catching in your throat as sunoo takes your breast between his lips, tugging and sucking with more force as if he knows you’re getting close. “so fucking pretty,” he mutters, tongue flicking fast as you cry out. “you’re gonna come just from this, huh?” jungwon kisses along your jawline, whispering praise so soft it makes your eyes flutter shut. “let go, baby. you’re safe. we’ve got you.” jake’s hand slides up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing your bottom lip as he watches every flicker of pleasure across your face. “you’re everything, you know that?” he whispers. “our everything.” heeseung’s voice joins next, low and gritty near your ear, his arms around your waist as he steadies you. “we’ll take care of you. all of us. just say the word.”

the words blend into touches, kisses, filthy promises spoken against your skin as your climax builds with every stroke, every kiss, every groan breathed against your throat. your body trembles, thighs clenching around niki’s wrist, your nails digging into jake’s shoulder as your hips stutter against his hand. they’re all watching you now—holding you, whispering to you, grounding you—as your orgasm hits like a wave, crashing through you so hard you cry out with no shame. niki groans with you, fucking you through it with his fingers, his eyes locked to your face like he never wants to forget how you look when you come. sunoo bites down gently on your breast before licking over it apologetically, while jungwon kisses your temple, arms sliding around you protectively. your body slumps slightly, chest heaving, but they don’t move away. instead, they hold you tighter—pressing kisses to your skin, whispering how beautiful you looked, how good you did for them, how much more they still want to give you.

you step away from niki slowly, the heat of his presence still lingering behind you as you turn your attention to heeseung and jay. your fingers trail up their torsos, teasing along the hem of their shirts before you press both of them back toward the couch. they let you guide them with ease, their bodies already responding, hips twitching slightly as your palms drag over the firm outlines of their bulges. the soft, barely-there pressure has them exhaling in sharp, shaky breaths, and you can hear the hiss of surprise slip from heeseung’s lips when your thumbs press just a little harder against the straining fabric of his jeans.

"take these off..." you purr, voice low and syrupy as your gaze flickers up at them with heavy intent. they don’t hesitate. in a few quick motions, denim and boxers are pushed down and kicked aside, their thick cocks springing free—already hard, the tips flushed and glistening with precum under the low, amber glow of the living room light. your mouth waters at the sight, and you waste no time wrapping a hand around each shaft, your fingers curling snug around their lengths, your thumbs brushing against the slick heads as you begin to stroke them slowly, teasingly.

your face inches forward, tongue flicking out to catch the drip that escapes jay first. heeseung watches with wide, desperate eyes as your lips wrap around the tip of jay’s cock, the wet heat of your mouth sinking down just enough to have him curse through clenched teeth. "oh fuck, princess..." heeseung groans, voice rough, chest rising as his hand twitches like he doesn’t know whether to grip the couch or your hair. your left hand tightens around him in response, giving him a slow pump as you swirl your tongue over jay’s slit.

jay’s head falls back with a low groan, his mouth parted and slack as he tries to keep his composure. his fingers clench into fists at his sides, unsure of where to touch, how to ground himself, overwhelmed by the feel of your warm lips wrapped so sweetly around just his tip. his abs tense beneath his shirt, and when your gaze flicks up to catch the way he bites down on his bottom lip, the needy sound that escapes you makes both of them shudder in anticipation.

you pull back with a soft pop, a thin string of saliva connecting your lips to jay’s swollen tip before breaking as you turn your head to face heeseung. the way he looks at you—eyes dark and hooded, jaw tight with restraint—makes your core clench. he’s barely holding it together, hips twitching upward when you lean in and lick a slow, deliberate stripe up the underside of his cock. his head tilts back, an almost growl-like moan rumbling from his chest as you swirl your tongue around the head, collecting the salty beads of precum gathered there.

“fuck, baby…” heeseung rasps, his voice wrecked, a hand reaching down to cradle your cheek for just a second before retreating, afraid to disrupt the rhythm of your mouth. you smile against his tip before sinking down a little further, your lips stretching around him while your hand continues pumping jay beside you—slow, steady strokes that make his thighs tense and his chest rise and fall like he’s on the edge. the dual sensation of having both of them twitching in your hands and mouth sends a rush of power through you, addictive and heady.

jay can’t stop watching you, his eyes locked on the way your throat works around heeseung, the soft wet sounds of your mouth filling the room. “jesus christ,” he murmurs under his breath, hips shifting like he wants more, like he’s barely keeping himself from pushing into your grip. his hands finally rise, hovering awkwardly before settling on the edge of the couch, his fingers digging into the cushions for something to hold on to. you can feel how badly they both want to let go—how close they are to losing themselves in the way you look between them, lips swollen and glistening, eyes fluttering closed with every slow bob of your head.

you switch again, pulling off heeseung with a slick gasp, your hand immediately stroking him as you turn your mouth back to jay. he lets out a breathless curse the moment your tongue touches him again, your lips wrapping around his flushed head while you squeeze the base with a teasing twist of your wrist. “fuck—keep doing that,” jay breathes, his voice shaking, his eyes screwed shut as your mouth moves just a little deeper. you moan around him on purpose, the vibrations shooting through his shaft and making his hips buck slightly despite himself.

heeseung watches, completely wrecked by the sight—his cock throbbing in your grip, your fingers gliding through the mess of precum smeared across his skin. “you’re so fucking pretty like this,” he whispers, barely audible, as if the words were dragged from him without permission. his thumb brushes your jawline when you pause again, a sweet, messy breath leaving you as you look up through your lashes, spit shining your lips, your hands working both of them in tandem like it’s second nature.

“you like that?” you ask softly, voice soaked in wicked innocence, your breath fanning over their cocks as you stroke them. “you like watching me get messy just for you?”

they nod in sync—silent, breathless, entirely at your mercy. and you smile, slow and sultry, before leaning in once more. this time, you don’t choose between them. instead, you let your tongue flick from one tip to the other, teasing them both at once until their hips stutter and their mouths fall open in matching moans that echo off the walls of heeseung’s dimly lit apartment.

you giggle softly at the way they react—so sensitive, so eager, so fucking close to unraveling just from your mouth and hands alone. their hips twitch toward you, needy and instinctual, and you don’t deny them. instead, you lean in further, letting your tongue glide between their tips again before you wrap your lips around both heads at once, sucking softly, your cheeks hollowing just enough to make them both groan in unison. the sound is filthy—wet and warm and low and broken—and it vibrates straight through your core, slick pooling between your thighs as you drink in every strained breath they let out.

“fuck, fuck—just like that,” jay gasps, his voice barely a whisper, strained and breathless as his hand finally finds the back of your head. he doesn’t push, doesn’t grip—just holds, trembling fingers threaded through your hair like he needs the anchor to keep from falling apart. your left hand continues to stroke heeseung, twisting just right as your lips slide between them again, alternating slow sucks and flicks of your tongue over their tips until precum coats your mouth, sticky and warm and addictive.

heeseung’s voice cracks when he speaks, desperate and low. “you’re driving me insane,” he groans, eyes glazed as he watches you take turns between them, completely entranced by the sight of your lips wrapped around jay’s cock while your hand keeps his own throbbing, aching for more. he looks like he’s seconds from snapping—shoulders tense, abs flexing, mouth parted in stunned awe. “fuck, baby… i can’t—i’m gonna lose it if you keep doing that.”

you pull back just enough to breathe, lips swollen and glossy, spit and precum smeared across your chin as you look up at them with that innocent little smile that only makes it worse. “but i’m not even halfway done with you,” you murmur, voice teasing and sweet, almost mocking with how calm you sound compared to their unraveling. “don’t tell me you’re already gonna come?”

jay curses under his breath, chest rising with a shaky inhale as you lick a stripe from the base of his cock to the head and then do the same to heeseung. both of them watch in complete silence, lips parted, eyes wide as your mouth moves between them like you were made for this—meant to tease them side by side, meant to be on your knees with their cocks in your hands, taking your time as if you weren’t driving them both mad with every second that passed.

you press a kiss to heeseung’s tip and then another to jay’s, slow and wet, before you begin to stroke them harder—tighter, faster, your wrists moving in tandem with practiced rhythm as your mouth returns to suckle at the head of whichever one twitches first. their moans grow louder, more ragged, filling the apartment with breathless desperation and the lewd sound of your hands and mouth working them over.

“gonna come,” jay finally groans, his voice cracking as his fingers tighten in your hair, his hips twitching despite how hard he’s trying to stay still. “fuck—fuck, please don’t stop…”

you don’t. you keep going, keep stroking, keep sucking, your mouth switching between them in messy, hungry little laps of attention, until both of them are right at the edge—hips stuttering, thighs trembling, eyes rolling back as they lose themselves completely in the feeling of you using them like your personal toys. and you’re loving every second of it.

heeseung’s the first to lose it. his breath catches in his throat, sharp and ragged, as his cock twitches hard in your fist. “shit—fuck, i’m coming,” he grits out, hips jerking as the first thick spurt paints across your knuckles and wrist. you keep stroking him through it, slow and firm, watching every tremble of his abdomen, every flutter of his lashes as his head tips back against the couch, mouth parted in a silent moan. cum spills freely, dripping from your hand as you squeeze the last drops from him, the mess trailing down onto his thighs and soaking into the fabric beneath him.

you don’t pause—not for a second. the moment heeseung falls limp in your grip, you’re already sinking your mouth back onto jay’s cock, hungry and unrelenting. your hand is still pumping him, tight and fast, but now your lips wrap around his flushed head, your tongue circling the slit with desperate, greedy pressure. jay lets out a strangled sound, his thighs spreading wider as he gives in fully, no longer trying to hold back or hide how close he is. “oh my god, baby—fuck—i can’t,” he chokes out, his hand gripping your shoulder as his whole body tenses beneath your touch.

he comes hard, his hips stuttering against your mouth, cock pulsing between your lips as warm, salty spurts coat your tongue. you hum softly as he spills, swallowing around him, letting his release flood your throat with a satisfied moan that only makes his grip on you tighten. you don’t move, not until he finishes twitching, not until his chest deflates and his grip loosens and he slumps back into the couch like he’s been completely drained of breath and thought and sanity.

you finally pull back, slow and messy, a string of saliva and cum connecting your mouth to the softening tip of his cock before it snaps and drips down your chin. both of them are staring at you—fucked out, wide-eyed, wrecked. your cheeks are flushed, your lips swollen, your chest rising with shallow breaths as you wipe the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand, your fingers still sticky from heeseung’s release.

you slowly rise to your feet, the room heavy with the scent of sweat and sex, your hands moving to the hem of your skirt. it slips off easily, pooling around your ankles in a soft heap. your panties cling to your soaked cunt as you peel them down, the damp fabric sliding along your thighs before joining the skirt on the floor. your bare skin prickles in the cool air, arousal glistening between your legs, but before you can move any further, sunghoon’s hands are on you.

he pulls you down gently but firmly, laying you flat on the floor beneath him like you’re something fragile and precious, something he wants to worship. his palms glide down the curve of your back, the touch warm and slow and greedy. when they reach the swell of your ass, he squeezes once—then pulls back and delivers a soft, open-palmed smack. the recoil of your flesh has his eyes fluttering shut for a brief second, a low groan spilling from his lips like he’s trying not to fall apart too soon.

“fuck, you’re so fucking beautiful, princess…” he murmurs, voice trembling with reverence as his eyes trail over every inch of your body. he leans back just enough to fist his cock in one hand, already hard and leaking, the tip flushed and angry. he strokes it lazily, precum spilling down the shaft as he brings it to your center, dragging the head slowly through your slick folds. the sound alone—wet, sticky, obscene—has your breath hitching. his cock catches against your clit on each pass, and you can’t stop the way your hips roll forward, needy and shameless.

your eyes drift past him, taking in the rest of the room. niki’s still exactly where you left him—leaning back against the wall, one hand stroking himself in slow, tight motions as he watches the scene unfold in front of him. his lips are parted, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths, his focus unblinking. beside him, sunoo sits with a flush high on his cheeks, gaze locked between your legs. his thighs are squeezed together, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth like he’s trying not to moan aloud.

just beyond them, jungwon sits close to jake, both of them eerily still. jungwon’s eyes are impossibly dark, the kind of stare that pins you in place, makes your pulse race with how intense it is. jake leans slightly forward, his elbows resting on his knees, tongue peeking out to wet his lips as he watches sunghoon line himself up. both of their hands rest in their laps, but you know it won’t stay that way for long. their hunger is palpable—thick in the air, swirling around you, coating your skin like a second layer.

you’re spread open beneath them, slick and aching, sunghoon’s cock sliding through your folds like it belongs there. and you can feel every pair of eyes on you—watching, waiting, wanting.

sunghoon breathes out a shaky curse, his hand tightening around the base of his cock as he guides it to your entrance. he pauses just long enough to look at you—really look at you—his other hand resting on your hip like he’s steadying himself. the tip nudges against your soaked hole, parting you slowly, the stretch enough to make your thighs twitch, your back arching slightly off the floor in anticipation.

“just like that,” he whispers, almost to himself, like he’s in a trance. and then he pushes in.

inch by inch, his cock sinks into you, the burn delicious, your walls fluttering and clenching down around him as you gasp beneath the weight of it. he’s thick—long—and the slow, unhurried pace he sets feels agonizing in the best way. your pussy draws him in greedily, wet and welcoming, the sound of your bodies meeting echoing softly off the walls. he buries himself to the hilt with a deep groan, his fingers pressing hard into your hips as he holds himself there, just breathing, just feeling you wrapped around him.

you whimper softly, the stretch making your thighs tremble, your fingers curling against the floor as your walls pulse around his cock. sunghoon stays still for a beat, his head tipping forward, hair falling into his eyes as he exhales slowly like he’s trying not to fall apart too soon. “so fucking tight,” he murmurs, hips twitching as he begins to draw back, slow and steady, only to sink into you again with a little more force.

your eyes flutter open and shift toward the others—niki’s hand is moving faster now, his gaze locked on the way sunghoon’s cock disappears inside you, the way your back arches and your mouth falls open in a silent moan. sunoo’s legs are spread, fingers tracing along his own cock through his pants as he watches with wide, fascinated eyes. jake’s leaned closer, jaw clenched tight, and jungwon—jungwon’s expression is unreadable, but his eyes haven’t left your face for even a second.

sunghoon sets a slow, grinding pace, each thrust purposeful, deep, like he’s trying to reach parts of you untouched. your breath comes in soft, desperate gasps, your hands sliding up his arms, nails dragging lightly down the muscle as he fucks into you with smooth, rolling thrusts. the pleasure builds slow and thick, coiling deep in your belly as your body trembles beneath his, your walls fluttering with every deep drag of his cock.

“feel so good around me,” sunghoon groans, one hand sliding under your thigh to hitch your leg higher, angling you just right to hit that spot that makes your breath catch and your head fall back. “you were made for this. made for me.”

and the way you whimper—needy and desperate—has all the others inching forward, unable to help themselves. 

sunghoon’s thrusts grow deeper, slower but heavier, grinding into you like he wants to leave an imprint—like he wants you to feel him there long after he pulls out. your hands slide up his back, nails raking lightly over his skin as his forehead presses to yours, his breath hot and ragged against your lips. his cock fills you so perfectly, the curve of it dragging against that sensitive spot inside you with every motion.

“look at you,” he breathes, voice soft and fucked-out, like he’s marveling at you, completely lost in the way your pussy clenches around him. “taking me so fucking well, baby… like you were made to be underneath me.”

you whimper in response, hips tilting to meet his rhythm, the friction building faster now—deeper. his thumb comes to press against your clit, slow circles drawing a gasp from your throat as your back arches. the pleasure crawls up your spine like fire, and he watches every twitch, every tremble, like he’s memorizing it.

behind him, you hear the shift of movement, the sound of someone rising from the couch, and you don’t have to look to know it’s jake. his presence always lingers before he even speaks—a quiet heat that brushes over your skin. sunghoon notices too, his eyes flicking up just enough to catch jake standing over the two of you, his cock already out and in his hand, flushed and leaking, thick veins pulsing with anticipation.

“you gonna help her out?” sunghoon murmurs without stopping his pace, his voice low and teasing as he looks up at jake. “she’s being so good for me. think she deserves more.”

jake chuckles softly, stepping closer until he’s right by your head. “always knew she could take both,” he says with a little grin, eyes flicking down to meet yours as his fingers brush your cheek. “you want me too, baby?”

you don’t even hesitate—you nod, mouth falling open with a quiet, breathless “please.”

that’s all the encouragement jake needs. he drops to his knees beside you, cock in hand, and shifts just enough to guide the tip toward your lips. you open for him instinctively, tongue flicking out to taste him as sunghoon thrusts deeper into you from below. jake groans at the feeling, his head tipping back slightly as your mouth wraps around him, warm and wet and perfect.

“fuck—just like that,” he breathes, one hand settling gently at the back of your head, not pushing, just holding, guiding. “you’re so fucking pretty with your mouth full.”

your body is completely surrounded—sunghoon buried deep inside your dripping cunt, fucking you with smooth, rolling thrusts that make your thighs shake, and jake sliding into your mouth, his cock heavy on your tongue. your moans are muffled, swallowed by jake’s length, but they vibrate all the way through your body, making sunghoon groan as your pussy tightens around him.

“she’s so fucking tight,” sunghoon grits out, sweat beading at his temple as he fucks into you harder now, faster, the slap of his hips echoing through the room. “and still greedy enough to suck you off at the same time. fuck, princess... you're unreal.”

jake’s hand slides down your throat, feeling the way you swallow him with every slow bob of your head. his eyes darken as he watches the tears gather at the corners of your eyes, the stretch just enough to make your jaw ache—but you don’t stop. you don’t want to.

jake’s fingers curl at the base of your skull, holding you steady as his hips roll forward in gentle, shallow thrusts, easing his cock deeper onto your tongue with every pass. your throat tightens around him, spit pooling at the corners of your mouth, but you moan anyway—low and needy—because the pressure of his cock sliding in and out of your mouth only amplifies the way sunghoon is pounding into you from below.

“jesus, fuck,” jake groans, watching your lips stretch around him, your throat bulging just slightly with every slow thrust. “you were fucking made for this. so filthy, baby.”

sunghoon’s pace grows rougher now, his rhythm less measured and more desperate, driven by the sight of you completely split open between them. his cock slams into you harder, his pelvis grinding against your clit on every thrust, making you whimper around jake’s length. your hands are restless, fingers digging into sunghoon’s arms, your thighs trembling with the intensity of the pleasure ripping through you.

“she’s shaking,” sunghoon hisses, his voice strained, sweat dripping from his jaw as he presses his forehead to your chest. “fuck—she’s close.”

jake grins down at you, wiping away a trail of spit from your chin with his thumb before dragging it across your bottom lip. “you gonna come with your mouth full, sweetheart?” he teases, thrusting just a little deeper, your eyes fluttering as you gag around him. “gonna let hoon fuck it out of you while i use this pretty mouth?”

you try to answer, but it’s all muffled, wet, messy sounds and eager moans around his cock. your walls clamp down on sunghoon so tight it nearly knocks the breath out of him, his hips slamming forward one final time as he groans your name like a prayer. his cock hits that sweet spot again, over and over, and you break—loud and helpless, body spasming as your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave.

your moan is stifled by jake’s cock, tears slipping from your eyes as your body goes rigid, cunt fluttering wildly around sunghoon as he fucks you through it. he’s growling now, a string of curses tumbling from his lips as he chases his own release, thrusting harder, deeper, until he can’t hold it anymore.

“fuck, fuck, baby—i’m coming,” he grits, his hips jerking forward as he spills inside you, hot and deep, his cum painting your walls in thick, pulsing waves. he collapses above you, still buried to the hilt, panting into your neck as your body trembles beneath his.

jake doesn’t let up. even as sunghoon comes down, he keeps thrusting gently into your mouth, watching the way your lashes flutter, the way your lips stay parted and willing despite how spent you are.

“you’re doing so good for us,” he whispers, pulling back just enough to let you breathe before sliding back in with a slow grind. “so perfect, baby. think you can take a little more?”

and the look you give him, eyes glassy, mouth swollen, body wrecked but still hungry—tells him everything he needs to know.

jake groans low in his throat at the sight of you—your lips red and glistening, spit and precum dripping down your chin, your thighs still twitching from the aftershocks of sunghoon’s release. you look ruined. ruined and so fucking willing. and he can’t help but fuck into your mouth a little deeper, a little rougher, the warmth of your throat driving him insane.

“god, you look so pretty like this,” he mutters, his thumb tracing your cheekbone as his cock slides past your lips again. “all fucked out… still letting me use your mouth like it’s mine.”

you moan in response, tongue flattening against the underside of his shaft as your hands reach for his thighs, trying to keep yourself steady. your lips seal around him tighter, your cheeks hollowing with each pass. he’s panting now, hips stuttering slightly as the heat in his stomach coils tight, ready to snap.

sunghoon slowly pulls out from between your legs, his cock softening, coated in both your slick and his cum. he leans back on his heels beside you, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand as he watches you work your mouth on jake. “fuck,” he says breathlessly, eyes trailing the mess between your thighs. “she’s dripping all over the floor.”

“yeah?” jake chuckles darkly, his voice strained. “and she’s about to be dripping down her throat too.”

you gag slightly as he pushes deeper, your throat flexing around him, and that’s what finally tips him over the edge. his hips still, his cock buried deep in your mouth as he groans your name through gritted teeth, ropes of cum spilling down your throat in thick, hot waves. your eyes flutter shut as you swallow around him, greedily taking everything he gives you until he’s twitching and gasping above you.

“fuck, baby… just like that,” he whispers, pulling out slowly, watching a line of spit and cum stretch from your lips to his tip. “such a good fucking girl.”

you collapse back onto the floor, panting, throat sore, pussy aching, your body limp and glistening in the dim light. sunghoon’s hand finds your thigh again, stroking you gently, his fingers brushing over your soaked skin. jake’s still kneeling beside your head, fingers combing through your damp hair, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.

you barely have time to catch your breath before niki’s fingers curl around your wrist, firm but careful as he helps pull you upright. his gaze is dark, unreadable, lips parted, chest rising with slow anticipation. you’re still trembling, sore and soaked, but when he tugs you gently toward him and settles down against the couch, spreading his legs wide and patting his thigh, you don’t hesitate.

you climb into his lap facing away, your knees bracketing his hips as your back arches and your hands brace against his thighs. his cock twitches beneath you, thick and hard, already dripping precum as he drags the head through your folds. you moan at the contact, body still oversensitive, but the burn of anticipation has your hips pushing down anyway, your cunt stretching wide to take him in.

niki groans behind you, his head falling back against the couch as your pussy swallows him inch by inch. “fuck… always knew you’d ride me like this,” he mutters, his voice low and tight. “look at that… fuckin’ perfect.”

you brace yourself as you sink fully onto his cock, the stretch making your thighs tremble, your walls clenching around him. he’s deeper like this, angled just right to hit that sweet spot with every shift of your hips. but before you can start moving, he wraps an arm around your waist and leans in to murmur against your shoulder.

“open your mouth, baby,” he says, and when you glance forward, your breath catches, sunoo and jungwon are kneeling on the floor in front of you now, their cocks hard and flushed, already in their fists.

you don’t even need to ask.

you lean forward, letting your hands find their hips for balance, and wrap your lips around sunoo’s cock first, your tongue licking up the underside as your hips start to move, bouncing slowly on niki’s cock. he moans beneath you, both hands gripping your ass as he helps you grind down on him, fucking you from below while your mouth works sunoo’s length.

sunoo whimpers the moment your lips close around him, his hands hovering uselessly at his sides before he finally gives in and threads his fingers through your hair. “shit—she’s so good,” he breathes, his cock twitching against your tongue as your head bobs in slow rhythm, matching the motion of your hips as you ride niki.

niki’s cock drags perfectly along your walls, his thrusts pushing up into you each time you sink down. your ass bounces against his thighs, the sound loud and wet, skin slapping against skin as he fucks you harder, growling behind you every time your pussy squeezes around him.

you switch to jungwon next, licking a stripe up his shaft before wrapping your lips around the head, your moans vibrating through his cock as he lets out a low, broken groan. his hand cradles your cheek, thumb brushing your jaw as he guides himself deeper into your mouth.

“she’s so fucking messy,” he mutters under his breath, his voice tight as his abs tense. “taking all of us like she was meant for this.”

niki’s pace quickens beneath you, his fingers digging into your hips as he fucks up harder, cock slamming into you over and over while your mouth drools around jungwon’s length. your body is overstimulated, raw and aching, but the sight of the boys above you—sunoo with flushed cheeks and parted lips, jungwon with that focused, dark stare—only drives you wilder.

you’re stuffed from every angle, lips stretched, cunt throbbing, your body reduced to nothing but pleasure, nothing but sensation.

sunoo’s cock slips from your lips with a soft, wet pop, strings of saliva connecting you to his tip as you gasp for breath, eyes glassy and mouth swollen. but you don’t stop—don’t even slow down. you let your head drop forward again, this time taking jungwon deeper, your lips wrapping around his shaft with eager hunger. his breath catches instantly, a strangled moan spilling from his throat as your tongue swirls around the head and you moan low, sending vibrations straight through him.

behind you, niki groans, his cock pulsing inside you as your pussy clamps down with every bounce. your ass smacks against his thighs, the rhythm loud and filthy, his hands spreading your cheeks wide to watch how wet you are, how you suck him in like you never want him to leave. “fuck—ride me just like that, baby,” he growls, thrusting up harder to meet every drop of your hips. “you feel so fucking good. so tight around me while you’ve got your mouth full of him.”

your thighs are shaking, slick dripping down the backs of them, your body overwhelmed but insatiable, every nerve ending lit up with pleasure. jungwon curses above you, voice breathless and strained as his hand fists in your hair. he doesn’t force you—just guides, just watches, eyes fluttering each time your lips slide further down his shaft.

“she’s choking on it,” he murmurs, almost in awe. “and still moving her hips like that…”

sunoo can’t take it anymore—he leans in, fingers ghosting along your jaw as he brings the head of his cock to your cheek. “open up for me again, baby,” he whispers, breath hitching. “wanna feel your tongue too.”

you tilt your head just enough to let him slide in beside jungwon, your lips stretching wide, spit pooling as you suck both of them, mouth working between their tips, switching back and forth. they both moan at the same time—low, desperate sounds—and it’s filthy, obscene, the sight of you spit-slicked and bouncing on niki’s cock while your mouth is full of two others, making their legs tremble.

niki can’t hold back anymore—he starts thrusting up harder, deeper, his grip on your hips bruising as he slams into you, cock dragging against your walls with each powerful snap. “fuck, i’m close,” he growls, watching your body ripple with every thrust, your back arched, head bobbing between sunoo and jungwon’s cocks. “you’re gonna make me fucking lose it.”

your moans are wet and muffled, drool spilling from your lips as you take them both, every part of you shaking with the force of niki’s thrusts. your walls squeeze around him like a vice, the angle hitting that perfect spot over and over, and before you can even warn him, your orgasm hits.

your body seizes, back arching, a choked cry escaping around their cocks as your pussy clenches hard around niki, milking him through your climax.

“fuck—fuck—i’m coming,” niki groans, hips jerking up one last time before he spills inside you, hot ropes of cum painting your insides, his body trembling beneath you.

your mouth doesn’t stop. you keep sucking, switching from jungwon to sunoo, moaning through the aftershocks as you chase their pleasure next. their cocks throb in your mouth, and you know they’re close—so fucking close—just waiting for your final push to unravel completely.

jungwon’s hand tightens in your hair, not to control you but because he’s barely hanging on. his breath is shaky, chest rising fast, abs flexing each time your mouth sucks him back in with that wet, eager sound that’s driven him crazy since the moment he first felt it. sunoo’s no better, his hand sliding down to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your spit-slicked skin like he can’t believe how good you feel.

“baby… please,” sunoo whimpers, his voice soft and desperate, like he’s begging for permission to let go. “fuck—just like that, don’t stop, don’t stop—”

you don’t. you bob your head faster, letting your tongue flick between both of their tips, your lips shiny and stretched, jaw aching as drool drips freely down your chin. their cocks bump together each time you move, the mess only turning them on more, and you feel both of them twitch—one in your mouth, the other pressed against your tongue, as they edge closer to release.

niki groans beneath you, still buried deep, his hands smoothing over your thighs now, coaxing gentle little rolls of your hips as you ride out the last of your orgasm. he’s sensitive—overstimulated—but he won’t move. won’t pull out. just watches, eyes locked on the way your body takes everything so willingly.

“they’re gonna come,” he murmurs behind you, voice low and hoarse with pride. “and you’re gonna let them. aren’t you, baby?”

you moan around jungwon’s cock in response, the sound vibrating through him, making his entire body shudder. his other hand finds your face, guiding you to take more—just a little more—until your lips reach the base and your nose brushes his skin.

“fuck—fuck i’m gonna—” jungwon chokes out, hips stuttering. he pulls back just in time, cock slipping from your mouth as thick, hot ropes of cum paint your tongue, your lips, your chin. he groans low, fucking into his fist as the last spurts drip onto your chest, his eyes half-lidded, ruined.

before you can swallow, sunoo’s already taking his place, his cock sliding back past your lips with a desperate thrust. “me too, baby—me too,” he gasps, and then he’s spilling into your mouth, cum hitting your tongue fast and heavy, his hips twitching as he moans your name through clenched teeth.

you stay there, perfectly still, your mouth full, your chest rising with shallow breaths, cum dripping from your lips and chin as you slowly swallow around sunoo’s softening cock. his hand strokes your hair gently now, thumbing away the mess from your cheeks, his face flushed and dazed.

you finally pull back, panting, lips puffy, every inch of your skin glistening with sweat and spit and cum. niki kisses your spine softly from behind, still seated deep inside you, his hands resting on your hips like he can’t bear to let you go just yet.

sunoo and jungwon stare at you like you’re divine—mouth still parted, body trembling, hair messy and eyes glazed with the kind of satisfaction that only comes after being thoroughly, completely fucked.

your body finally slumps forward, the adrenaline fading into something slow and heavy, every muscle limp, every nerve buzzing. your thighs tremble with the lingering aftershocks, chest heaving, lips swollen and still tasting them. you're so thoroughly used, so blissfully spent, but not once do you feel empty because the moment your body starts to give, they’re all there.

niki wraps both arms around your waist from behind, gently pulling you off his softening cock, kissing along your spine as he lays you down across the couch like you’re made of glass. his palms run over your sides, grounding and slow. “you did so good, baby,” he whispers, brushing your damp hair away from your face. “so fucking perfect.”

sunoo is already at your side with a warm towel, carefully wiping away the mess from your cheeks and chest, taking his time like it’s an act of worship. “you didn’t even hesitate,” he murmurs, his voice soft with awe. “you took care of us… we’re so lucky to have you.”

jungwon kneels beside the couch, reaching up to intertwine his fingers with yours. his thumb strokes across your knuckles slowly, his gaze warm and tender. “you okay?” he asks gently. “need water? something sweet?”

you nod faintly, lips parting, but before you even speak, jake is already returning with a water bottle and a hoodie. “here,” he says, helping you sit up just enough to sip. “you were amazing, baby. really.”

sunghoon’s on the other side now, tucking the hoodie over your head carefully, letting it drape over your bare skin. “you’re so good to us,” he says, pressing a kiss to your temple. “the way you handled all of us… fuck. i’ve never seen anything like it.”

heeseung settles at your feet, rubbing slow circles into your calf with his thumb, watching the way your lashes flutter as you start to come back to yourself. “you’re our angel,” he says softly. “and we’ll take care of you, always.”

you feel a kiss on your cheek. another on your shoulder. fingers brushing through your hair. your body might be aching, worn thin in the most delicious way but your heart is full. loved. cherished. safe.

they don’t rush you. they don’t pull away. they stay close, hands soft, touches gentle, every movement wrapped in care.

and as you curl into the warmth of their arms, a lazy smile on your lips, the last thing you hear before sleep begins to tug at your edges is a chorus of murmured praise—sweet, soft, and meant only for you.

natty's notesᝰ.ᐟ i don’t even know where to begin 🥲 premium content has become something so incredibly special to me—more than i ever imagined it would be. what started as a playful little idea slowly grew into a full story that i poured my whole heart (and a little too much filth 😵‍💫) into, and watching all of you connect with it the way you have?? it’s meant everything. the amount of love, support, messages, theories, and excitement around every chapter has completely overwhelmed me—in the best way possible. i genuinely don’t think words will ever fully express how thankful i am for this community, and how seen and supported you’ve made me feel as a writer. this fic has been a safe space for both fantasy and creativity, and to know that it has been cherished so much with love and support is all i could ever ask for. that being said… i’ve given it some thought. even though the main story has reached its final chapter (still sobbing), i’m not ready to say goodbye to these boys just yet. so i’ve decided that premium content will continue on in the form of drabbles and one-shots, whether they’re moments you request or little ideas that come to me along the way. i want to keep playing in this universe—keep exploring new scenarios and dynamics with them (and you) because this series deserves to live on a little longer 🤍 from the bottom of my heart—thank you for reading, for staying, and for loving premium content just as much as i have. i can’t wait to keep sharing more with you 🫶

the thoughts from yesterday still cling to jungwon’s mind like static, every glance, every breath, every tremble between you two etched into the quiet spaces of his morning. it was his first time doing anything like that—so exposed, so far outside of the lines he’s used to coloring within—and he knows now, without a doubt, that choosing you made it unforgettable. the way you handled him with such ease, soft-spoken and sweet, every word dipped in warmth like he mattered beyond the camera, beyond the performance. your touch still lingers on his skin, ghostlike and reverent, the kind that made him feel treasured, not just desired, and that’s a feeling he hasn’t been able to let go of since. he understands now, finally, why the others orbit you the way they do—how you carry yourself when the red light flicks on, how your voice turns velvet, how even the smallest gesture becomes a promise of something deeper. you’re intoxicating in a way that doesn’t just settle in his body but digs into his heart, and he finds himself wanting more—not just of your touch, but of your time, your gaze, your attention. but buried beneath that hunger is a sinking weight, a fear that he’s already too late, that the place he’s hoping for is already taken by the ones who got to you first. the situation is messy, tangled with unspoken feelings and quiet rivalries, and jungwon knows that if the others find out about what happened with you, things will only get worse—but god, if risking that means he gets to feel you again, he’s more than willing to take the fall.

he rubs at his eyes as he sits up slowly, the blanket slipping down his bare chest as the soft light of morning creeps in through the blinds, bathing the room in quiet gold. it still feels like you're on his skin, like your hands had left heat behind that even the cool air couldn’t take away, and for a second, jungwon just sits there, breathing it in, letting the weight of everything settle into his chest. his fingers brush over the curve of his throat, remembering how your lips felt there, how your voice dipped low with praise as if he deserved every bit of it, and it makes something twist deep in his stomach. it wasn’t just the way you kissed him or the way you touched him—it was how you looked at him, like he was more than a one-night clip, like he was something worth coming back to, and that’s what fucks him up the most. he should feel proud, maybe even smug, but instead all he feels is the dull ache of knowing what it means to want something he might never get again. there’s too much at stake, too many names wrapped around yours already, and as badly as he wants to keep you to himself, he knows the rest are circling like moths to a flame. when he finally drags himself out of bed and shuffles into the kitchen, he finds ni-ki already there—hair tousled, hoodie slipping off one shoulder, lazily chewing on a granola bar as he scrolls through his phone. ni-ki looks up with a raised brow, mouth curving around the edge of a question before he even speaks. “so?” he asks simply, voice low, amused. “how’d it go?”

jungwon hesitates for only a second before the words pour out, thick with everything he didn’t say last night. “it was… unreal,” he says quietly, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge and leaning against the counter like his knees might give out otherwise. “i didn’t expect it to be like that—like she knew exactly what i needed without even asking, like she could feel how nervous i was and just… made it disappear.” his voice softens, faraway, lost in the memory. “she kissed me like she meant it. touched me like i mattered. like i wasn’t just another collab but someone she wanted to understand.” ni-ki stays quiet, eyes fixed, listening, the flicker of surprise hidden behind his usual calm. jungwon lets out a breath, fingers tightening around the bottle. “it wasn’t just good, ni-ki. it was… i don’t know. it felt important.” he doesn't say your name, doesn’t need to. because even without saying it, both of them know exactly who he's talking about—and exactly how deep he’s in.

jungwon’s eyes linger on ni-ki for a beat too long, uncertainty clinging to his ribs like something thick and heavy, and for a moment, he debates whether to say anything at all. but the words push out of him anyway, quiet and shaky, his voice betraying the way his stomach twists. “a-are you going to go for it?” he asks, barely above a whisper, his gaze flickering away as soon as it lands, like he’s scared of the answer. there’s a pause, a weighted silence that stretches between them, and when ni-ki finally responds, it’s without hesitation. “well, yes,” he says plainly, the words falling flat but firm, his posture shifting as he pushes off the counter and stands up fully. his eyes find jungwon’s again, darker this time, unreadable. “i’m going to be here,” he adds, and his voice carries something final, something that leaves no room for question. jungwon’s breath hitches in his chest. “so don’t be here at six.” the words land hard, and jungwon nods, but something in his chest pulls taut like a wire ready to snap.

the moment jungwon disappears down the hallway, ni-ki stays frozen for a second, thumb hovering over the edge of his phone like he’s weighing something. he already knew what he was going to do, the second jungwon hesitated—that hesitation was all the confirmation he needed. so he pulls out his phone, opens the app, and types the username slowly, deliberately, like tasting each letter. @babydollxo. it’s not new to him—but seeing it for himself feels different now. your page loads, and he pauses. not just because of the preview clips, not because of the way the lighting kisses the curves of your body or the soft cadence of your voice in the intro—but because you don’t look like you’re trying. it’s just… effortless. and that’s what hooks him.

he opens the message tab, watches the cursor blink for a second, then types slowly, deliberately.

@nikiuncensored: you’ve had them all watching. let me be the one you watch.

it’s simple, but it cuts. smooth, suggestive, a reversal of roles he knows will stand out. and he doesn’t wait for a reply—he just walks over to the couch, sets his phone down on the coffee table, and leans back into the couch with a calm expression, and lets the weight of the message speak for itself. because ni-ki’s not here to chase.

he’s here to be chosen.

—

you sit curled up on the couch, a half-eaten bowl of cereal in your lap, the morning sun casting thin golden stripes across the rug through the blinds. nari sits cross-legged at the other end, hair twisted in a loose bun, her eyes trained on your face like she’s trying to read your thoughts before you speak them aloud. “so,” she says carefully, not looking away, “have you decided who’s next?” you swallow, slow and tight, then nod once. “i think so. there’s this page i found this morning—i don’t know how i missed it before.” your voice is barely above a whisper as you slide your phone over and let her take a look. her brows lift almost immediately, eyes widening just a little before a grin tugs at the corner of her mouth. “@nikiuncensored? damn. if this is your last one, you better make it count.”

you let out a shaky laugh, but it doesn’t quite reach your chest. your fingers toy with the fraying hem of your shorts as nari sets the phone back down, her expression softening as she leans closer. “you’ve gotten so much support with this y/n, are you sure you’re really gonna stop after this?” she asks, voice quiet, like she doesn’t want to push too hard. you nod again, slower this time, eyes dropping to the screen lighting up with a faint reflection of the both of you. “i need to,” you murmur. “it’s getting too heavy.” nari doesn’t press—just watches you for a beat longer before whispering, “how do you feel about them?” at the sound of their names, something tugs deep in your chest, but you push it down with a forced shrug. “i don’t wanna talk about it.”

the silence that follows is thick with everything unsaid, the kind of quiet that fills your lungs with something that isn’t air. nari doesn’t fight you on it, just nods once, respectful of the way your fingers clench a little tighter in your lap, the way your gaze stays locked on the light slipping across the floor. you exhale slowly, a heavy weight pressing behind your ribs as you lean your head back and stare at the ceiling. your thoughts drift toward the new page again—his preview clips still burned into your mind, the rawness of them, the restraint. there was something about the way he looked into the lens, like he wasn’t just performing, like he meant it. it made your stomach twist, your chest flutter, and for once, you wanted to be the one watching him unravel. just as you’re about to say something to nari, your phone buzzes softly beside you, and when you glance at the screen, your heart skips.

a new message. from @nikiuncensored.

—-

niki’s always been the type to leave an impression without trying—he doesn’t need to speak loudly or dress a certain way; it’s just something in the way he moves, like he knows exactly who he is. but tonight, that confidence is sharpened into something more intentional. you’ve already been with the others—heeseung, jay, jake, sunghoon, sunoo and even jungwon—and though no one said it out loud, he can feel the quiet pressure in their lingering glances and sudden silences when your name is mentioned. niki doesn’t want to just follow in their footsteps—he wants to stand out. to leave a mark. his room is spotless now, every sock, hoodie, and tangled charger tucked out of sight. the camera’s positioned carefully in the corner of his room, angled just enough to catch everything without feeling invasive, the lighting adjusted to cast soft shadows against the sheets. it’s not just preparation—it’s anticipation.

after sending the message, niki had spent more time than he’d like to admit watching your videos—pausing, rewinding, studying. there’s a rhythm to the way you move, the way you let your fingers skim your skin, how your lips part when the pleasure builds, even though your face never appears. that’s what gets him most. you keep that part of yourself hidden, a mystery tucked behind sultry moans and trembling whimpers, and it makes him wonder what you’d look like falling apart in person. his throat tightens at the thought, a nervous breath catching behind his teeth as he smooths a hand over his black shirt for the third time. it terrifies him, how willing he is to let someone he’s never even seen in person into this part of himself, how badly he wants to impress you. the clock blinks 5:55pm in pale green light, and every second after feels slower, heavier. his palms are slightly clammy as he paces once, twice, through the living room before freezing at the sound. the doorbell rings—sharp, clear—and his breath catches, chest rising like something electric is about to begin.

you hear the muffled shuffle of movement before the door opens, the soft creak of hinges followed by the unmistakable scent of something clean and faintly masculine—linen sheets and faint cologne. he stands in the doorway, a little taller than you remember from his videos, dressed in a fitted black tee and gray sweatpants, one hand still clutching the edge of the doorframe like he needed a moment to steady himself. his lips part to say something, but the words don’t come right away—just a soft breath, like he’s seeing something he didn’t expect, and your throat tightens slightly at the intensity of his stare. “you’re… really here,” he says, like the words are meant more for himself than for you.

you step inside slowly, your gaze sweeping across the open living room as you take in the space—warm-toned lighting glowing faintly above, soft music playing low from a speaker tucked into the corner, and the faintest scent of something citrusy lingering in the air like he’d lit a candle just minutes before. ni-ki stands a few feet away, watching you with a look you can’t quite name yet—it’s not nervous, not confident either, just… waiting. you shift on your feet, suddenly aware of the silence between you two, but it’s broken when he clears his throat gently and gestures toward the couch. “you can sit if you want,” he says, voice quieter than you expected, not shy but calm—measured. you nod and make your way over, fingers brushing along the soft fabric of the cushions before settling into the seat, and he follows soon after, sitting at a careful distance but not too far, like he’s still deciding how close he’s allowed to be. “i wasn’t sure what to expect,” he admits, eyes flickering toward you before glancing away again, and it’s almost charming how he doesn’t try to hide the slight flush on his cheeks. “but i’m glad you came.” you smile softly, the tension loosening just a little in your chest, and when you look at him again, his lips part as if he wants to say more—but nothing comes out. it’s not awkward though; it’s electric in a quiet kind of way, like a spark waiting for you to decide if it should catch fire.

"what are some boundaries i should know before we begin?" ni-ki asks, voice low and velvet-smooth, like he’s testing how far his curiosity can stretch without crossing a line. you shift slightly on the couch, your knee brushing his for a second too long, and when you meet his gaze, it’s already waiting—bold, unwavering, and intense in a way that steals the breath right from your lungs. he studies you like a painting with a secret tucked in the brushstrokes, his head tilted, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, as if he’s both intrigued and impressed. the living room is quiet except for the dull hum of the air conditioning, and yet the silence feels thick, stretched tight between you two like a pulled thread. ni-ki's fingers rest against the seam of his sweats, tapping idly, but you catch the flicker in his eyes when they drag slowly down the length of your body and back up again, taking his time like he’s cataloging everything. "i’m fine with a lot of things," you murmur, keeping your voice even despite the flush rising up your neck, "just want to keep my face either off-angle or blurred—something discreet, as always." your hands sit neatly folded in your lap, but inside, your heart beats uneven, thudding against your ribs with each second he holds your stare. he nods like he understands, but then leans in a little, his voice dropping a few octaves as a sly smile ghosts across his lips. "so you're fine with handcuffs?" he asks, one brow arched, his tone equal parts teasing and serious, like he’s daring you to surprise him.

you blink, pulse stuttering at the suggestion, though you don’t let it show on your face. there’s something about the way he says it—so casual, yet charged—that makes your thighs tense, a slow heat building in the pit of your stomach. “depends,” you reply, tone light but your eyes holding his, refusing to let him have the upper hand so easily. “are you any good with them?” the question slips out before you can second guess it, and you swear you catch the way his breath falters, just slightly, like he wasn’t expecting you to volley back. ni-ki’s smirk deepens, eyes narrowing as he exhales a soft chuckle under his breath, head tilting again as he watches you with a flicker of newfound interest. “guess we’ll have to find out,” he murmurs, voice like warm honey, and for a moment, it’s impossible to tell if he’s playing around or making a promise. the air thickens again, heavy with anticipation, and when his knee nudges yours this time, it lingers there deliberately, grounding the moment. "anything else i should know?" he asks, not breaking eye contact, voice softer now—almost reverent—as if he already knows this is going to be different from anything he’s done before.

he doesn't say anything at first, just lets his gaze drag slowly down your face, then lingers at your lips like he’s weighing the danger of kissing you too soon. his hand shifts behind you, fingers brushing the couch cushion just inches from your back, and there’s a stillness in his posture that says he’s holding himself back—but only barely. “you make it hard not to break the rules,” he finally murmurs, voice low and just the slightest bit breathless, like the thought of touching you is starting to override his usual calm. you meet his eyes, your breath catching as you feel his hand finally graze the edge of your shoulder, featherlight but enough to ground the moment into something real, something dangerous. “then break one,” you whisper, eyes never leaving his, watching the way his pupils darken with something that looks a lot like surrender. and it happens in a blink—the space between you disappears as he leans in, lips brushing yours in a slow, testing kiss, his mouth so warm and sweet you nearly forget how to breathe. but it doesn’t stay gentle for long; he deepens the kiss like he’s been craving it, his hand sliding to your waist as he pulls you closer into his lap, the soft fabric of his sweats bunching under your thighs as your body melts against his. he groans into the kiss, a low, almost embarrassed sound that slips from his throat when your hips shift and press down just slightly, just enough for him to feel the way you’re already starting to want him too.

 “if we weren’t about to film,” he continues, letting his thumb brush against your palm, “i’d spend the whole night just looking at you like this.” the compliment catches you off guard, but it sinks into your skin like warmth, makes you shift slightly in your seat, thighs clenching. “you could still look,” you whisper, barely meaning to say it out loud, and his smirk deepens like he’s won something. he lets go of your hand only to rest his palm on your knee, fingers spreading slowly as he leans in again—closer now—until his breath fans across your lips and you can feel how badly he wants to kiss you.

you don’t hesitate—just lean in, letting your lips press softly against his, the kiss unfolding with an aching slowness that makes your chest tighten. niki stiffens for only a second before melting into it, his mouth parting beneath yours as his hands move instinctively, one settling on your hip and the other curling around the back of your neck. his breath catches in his throat when you start to move, slow drags of your hips against the bulge growing beneath his sweats, and you can feel every twitch and shift as he tries to keep himself from bucking up too fast. “you’re—fuck, you’re driving me insane,” he whispers against your lips, the words broken by a moan as your hands slide into his hair and tug gently. your tongue slips against his, coaxing him into something hotter, messier, and he groans deep in his chest like it’s the only thing keeping him tethered. you kiss your way down to his jaw, to the sensitive spot beneath his ear, and the way he shudders makes pride curl in your stomach. “if this is what you’re like before the camera’s even on,” he pants, his voice barely steady, “i don’t think i’ll survive the actual shoot.”

his hands grip your hips tighter, guiding the motion of your grind now, and every drag of your core over his lap pulls another shaky breath from him, his eyes glazed as they flicker open to watch you. you pull back just enough to look at him, lips swollen, breath short, your fingers resting on the collar of his shirt as you tilt your head slightly. “we haven’t even started yet,” you murmur, your voice low and teasing, and his brows pinch like he’s both desperate for more and terrified of how quickly he’s unraveling. he leans forward to kiss you again, this time rougher, more frantic, and the way he moves beneath you—hips stuttering, thighs tensing—tells you he’s closer than he wants to admit. your hands trail down between you, palming him over the fabric of his sweats just once, and the broken moan he lets out has you clenching around nothing, the heat between you threatening to boil over. “shit—don’t,” he whines, his hands grabbing at your wrists even as he keeps kissing you, the kind of kiss that says he’s drowning and doesn’t want to be saved. his lips pull away only long enough to whisper, voice cracking with need, “you’re gonna make me cum like this.”

he pulls away from your mouth slowly, breath hot and uneven against your cheek, and you catch the faint tremble in his hands as they linger at your waist. “come with me,” he murmurs, voice hoarse, barely above a whisper as he presses a final kiss to the corner of your lips. you feel the tension radiating off him like a current as he guides you up gently, his fingers intertwined with yours as he leads you down the short hallway. the apartment is quiet except for the sound of your footsteps on the floor, and when he pushes open his bedroom door, you’re hit with the faint scent of cologne and fresh linen. everything inside is carefully arranged—the camera already set on its tripod, soft lighting casting a warm glow over the room, the bed made with black sheets that contrast sharply with the pale wood floor. he closes the door behind you slowly, turning to look at you with something caught between awe and hunger, his lips parted like he’s still reeling from how easily you almost got him to come undone in the living room. 

his eyes search yours for any hesitation, any flicker of doubt, but when all he sees is heat and trust staring back at him, he leans in and kisses you slow—like a promise, like a warning. his hand reaches into the drawer beside the bed, fingers curling around the soft velvet cuffs he had tucked away earlier, and you feel your breath hitch as he pulls them out and lifts your wrist. “tell me if you want me to stop,” he says softly, securing cuff around your wrist, kissing the inside of it before fastening them to the headboard. your arms stretch just enough above you that you feel restrained but not uncomfortable, and the thrill of being held like this—open, waiting, watched—settles warm between your legs. niki stands up at the foot of the bed, gaze sweeping down your body like he’s seeing a dream in real time, and then slowly, he starts with himself, peeling off his shirt inch by inch to reveal the toned lines of his chest and a tattoo that sits perfectly by his ribs. “you’re not allowed to look away,” he says with a sly smile, running one hand through his hair while the other dips to undo the laces from his sweats, the soft action making your stomach tighten. “i want your eyes on me the whole time, baby,” he adds, voice darkening slightly as he shoves his sweats down and kicks them away, standing there in front of you in nothing but black briefs and confidence. he slips a hand beneath the waistband, fingers curling slowly as his head tips back, a soft groan falling from his lips—and you watch, wide-eyed and breathless, as he touches himself, the sight alone enough to leave your thighs pressing together in desperation.

niki doesn’t take his eyes off you, not even for a second, as his hand works slow and deliberate around the base of his cock, the motion steady but far from merciful. you can see how hard he is already, tip flushed a deep red and glistening, veins prominent beneath the skin as he strokes up and twists his wrist just slightly at the head. “you really don’t get it, do you?” he mutters, breath hitching as he drags his palm over his slit, collecting the mess there and spreading it down in one slick motion. “this is exactly what i wanted… you, just like this. tied down, watching me, begging without even saying a word.” your breath catches at the accusation, throat tightening as your legs shift restlessly against the sheets, already so wet you can feel it soaking into the fabric beneath you. he notices instantly, his eyes flicking downward, mouth twitching into a grin like he’s proud of how undone you already are. “you’re dripping,” he teases, voice thick with amusement, your panties fully wet as your skirt rides up your thighs,  “and i haven’t even touched you yet. what would the others say if they knew how easy you are for me?”

he steps closer to the bed, just enough for you to see the slight tension in his thighs, the way he’s trying to keep his composure while putting on this show for you. his pace falters for just a second when your tongue darts out to wet your lips, your eyes dragging down his body like you could devour him whole. “fuck,” he groans softly, squeezing his cock at the base and angling it toward you as if to taunt you more, letting it hover just close enough for you to feel the heat of him. “i bet you’d take it so well,” he murmurs, almost to himself, his tone softer now but no less intense. “i could shove it all the way down your throat and you wouldn’t even gag, huh?” the way he speaks makes your cheeks burn, but you don’t dare look away—if anything, you stare harder, lips parted and breath shallow, silently begging for him to snap. “don’t worry, baby,” he says with a tilt of his head, stroking himself faster now, precum spilling down over his knuckles, “we’re just getting started.”

his eyes darken the longer he watches you—tied down, panting, writhing, all because he hasn’t even touched you yet. “you like this too much,” he whispers, fisting himself faster now, his other hand braced against the headboard just beside your shoulder. “no one’s ever had you like this, have they?” his voice is low, teasing, but there’s a possessive edge to it that makes your stomach tighten. your wrists flex against the cuffs as your thighs press together, desperate for relief, but niki only chuckles at your struggle and leans in closer, breath warm against your cheek. “you’re gonna be so fucking ruined for anyone else,” he says, words curling like smoke around your ear as he jerks himself harder, the slick sounds of it echoing in the quiet room. his head tips back slightly as he groans, the muscles in his stomach twitching with effort, his jaw clenched and lips parted. “look at me,” he demands suddenly, and when your eyes snap back to his, they’re glassy and helpless, just how he wants them.

“you’re so pretty like this,” he murmurs, breath shaking as he edges closer, the tip of his cock nearly brushing your lips before he pulls back at the last second. “but i want to see your face when i finish,” he says, licking his lips as he pumps himself faster, rougher now, like he’s finally starting to lose the battle with his own control. “gonna let me make a mess of you, baby? gonna wear it for me like the good girl you are?” you nod as best as you can, back arching slightly with need, your thighs trembling from the tension coiling there with nowhere to go. “mm—fuck, just like that… keep watching,” he grits out, his pace ruthless now, spit-slick and dirty as his fingers twist at the head, his cock leaking and flushed deep pink. the moment stretches impossibly long, his body jerking with each stroke as he stares at you like you’re the most intoxicating thing he’s ever seen. “gonna give it to you,” he groans, his voice breaking around the edges, “you better fucking take it.”

he climbs onto the bed just enough to hover over you, knees sinking into the mattress as his hips jerk forward one final time—and then he’s cumming, spilling across your lips and cheek and chin in thick, hot ropes that land messily across your skin. a strangled moan breaks from his throat as he watches it drip down your mouth, your lashes fluttering as you try to hold still beneath the weight of it all. “god,” he breathes, his hand slowing on his cock as the last few spurts spill out, his chest rising and falling with shallow, erratic breaths. “fuck, look at you.” his thumb drags along your jaw, collecting a bit of the mess he left there and swiping it across your lower lip, eyes locked on the way your mouth parts from the contact. “prettiest thing i’ve ever seen,” he whispers, almost reverent, like he can’t believe this is real. your cheeks burn as your eyes flutter up to meet his, his expression so soft now that it nearly breaks you.

his breathing is still unsteady, chest rising and falling as he gazes down at you—lips messy, cheeks streaked, wrists bound above your head. you look absolutely ruined, and yet somehow still insatiable, still aching, your hips shifting in small desperate rolls like you’re begging without words. “you’ve been good,” he murmurs, dragging his thumb along your jaw, tilting your head gently toward him. “so, so good for me.” his voice is softer now but still heavy with intent, eyes flickering down your body like he’s already plotting every way to make you come undone again. you don’t even try to answer—you’re too far gone, too worked up to form anything coherent. your thighs press together with a whimper, and that alone makes him smirk, makes him trail his fingers down your bare body until he reaches your knees.

he spreads them apart slowly, deliberately, ignoring the way your legs shake at the motion. “don’t close them,” he mutters, eyes flashing up at you with warning, though there’s a hint of affection in his tone that makes your chest flutter. he settles between your legs like he’s done it a thousand times, one hand gripping your thigh to keep you open as his mouth lowers to your core after discarding your skirt and wet underwear. the first lick is slow, just the flat of his tongue dragging up your slit—and your whole body arches, a broken gasp slipping past your lips. “fuck, you’re soaked,” he groans against you, tongue flicking gently at your clit before retreating again. “you liked watching me that much?” you nod helplessly, wrists pulling against the cuffs with each pulse of pleasure that jolts through you.

he doesn’t tease you long—not this time. maybe it’s because you’ve been good. maybe it’s because he’s wanted to taste you since the second you walked through his door. his mouth dives back in, hungrier this time, tongue swirling slow circles around your clit before flattening again, sucking with just enough pressure to make your back arch off the bed. you sob his name, legs shaking as he grips your thighs tighter, holding you in place while he devours you like a man starved. “that’s it,” he whispers, voice hoarse between licks. “give it to me, baby. i want it.” your hips jerk upward, and he groans low at the desperation, at the way you’re already so close for him.

he dips lower, licking through your folds before fucking his tongue into you, slow and deep, letting you ride the rhythm of his mouth while your head falls back into the sheets. the cuffs bite slightly into your wrists as you pull against them, needing to grab something, anything, but there’s only the overwhelming heat of his tongue and the maddening flicks of pressure against your clit. “please, niki—” you choke, voice high and pleading, but he only hums against you, the vibration making your vision spark. his tongue circles tighter, faster, lips dragging against your swollen clit as your legs start to tremble beneath his hold. you’re close—so close your whole body tightens, the orgasm coiling low in your stomach like it’s waiting to detonate.

he knows. he doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow, even when you’re sobbing his name and gasping for air, tears slipping from the corners of your eyes from how overwhelming it feels. “cum for me,” he growls, voice wrecked as his mouth stays locked on you. “want to feel you fall apart on my tongue.” your body obeys before your mind can catch up, a strangled moan tearing from your throat as the orgasm crashes over you in a wave so intense your vision goes white. your wrists go limp in the cuffs, thighs shaking uncontrollably as he licks you through every pulse, dragging out your high until you’re whimpering from the overstimulation.

he finally pulls back, lips glossy with your release, panting slightly as he looks up at you. the sight alone makes you moan again—his swollen mouth, those dark eyes, the mess of hair that falls over his forehead. “so fucking good for me,” he breathes, crawling back up your body and kissing the edge of your jaw, then your cheek, then your lips, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. “you taste unreal, baby. could live between your thighs.” your breath stutters, heart pounding so loud it echoes in your ears as he reaches up to slowly undo the cuffs.

your wrists fall slack against the sheets as the metal cuffs unclip, the slight sting of release making your arms ache in the best way. before you can even move, niki’s hands are already on your waist, flipping you over effortlessly, the mattress dipping under his weight as he presses his chest to your back. “gonna make you take it now,” he growls low in your ear, voice rough and heavy with want, fingers trailing up your spine before tangling in your hair and gently tugging your head back. “no restraints, no distractions—just me inside you.” your breath catches as he pushes your thighs apart with his knees, lining himself up behind you with a sharp inhale. you feel the blunt head of his cock drag between your folds, teasing your entrance, making your entire body twitch with anticipation. “so ready for me already,” he mutters, his voice pure sin, and with one slow, steady thrust, he slides all the way in—deep and thick and stretching you perfectly.

your moan breaks open the room, raw and needy, your hands fisting in the sheets as he bottoms out and holds himself there, letting you feel every inch. he leans over you, one hand gripping your hip tight enough to bruise while the other slides under your stomach to lift you just enough so he can angle even deeper. “fuck,” he groans, dragging his hips back before slamming forward, the sound of skin against skin echoing as you gasp for breath beneath him. “you feel unreal,” he says through clenched teeth, hips snapping forward again with more force, more hunger, each thrust sending shocks of pleasure straight through your core. your nails dig into the mattress, legs trembling as he sets a punishing pace, like he’s been holding this in for far too long. “this what you wanted, huh?” he pants, voice laced with heat. “to be ruined like this?”

you can’t answer—your mind is a haze of sensation, overwhelmed by how deep he hits, by the stretch, the rhythm, the way your body already clenches around him so tight he’s groaning into your shoulder. his hand slips up to wrap around your throat from behind, not tight, just there, grounding you as he fucks into you with everything he has. “look at you,” he murmurs, breath hot against your ear. “taking it so well, letting me fuck you like you’re mine.” your body arches back into him, the angle making your legs shake violently, and he growls at the way you moan his name, wrecked and shameless. every thrust makes the bed creak, makes your skin burn, makes the tension in your stomach coil tighter and tighter like a fuse about to snap.

he leans in more, hand sliding down between your thighs to rub your clit in tight, fast circles, making your cries sharper, needier, as your hips jerk into his every motion. “you close?” he rasps, his voice breaking slightly as your walls squeeze him so tight he nearly folds. “gonna cum all over my cock?” you nod frantically, tears in your eyes from how good it feels, from how hard it’s building again. “do it,” he commands, voice hoarse. “cum for me—right fucking now.” and you do—your vision whites out as your second orgasm crashes over you like fire, your whole body shaking as you clamp around him, pulsing and soaking him, crying out his name like it’s the only thing you know.

he curses loudly, grip on your hips tightening as he slams into you one last time and spills deep inside, hot and heavy, his moan low and guttural against your ear. his hips jerk with every wave of pleasure until he finally stills, chest pressed to your back, both of you breathless and trembling. “fuck,” he exhales, hand sliding up your side, slow and soothing now. “you’re… addictive.” your body sinks into the sheets, skin flushed and still sensitive, your heart pounding in your throat as he slips out of you carefully and collapses beside you. he doesn’t say anything at first—just pulls you close, one hand brushing your hair back while the other strokes gently along your thigh.

you don’t realize how sore your limbs are until your body fully relaxes into the mattress, every nerve ending buzzing as the comedown washes over you like a slow, sticky tide. your breath is still uneven, your chest rising and falling as your body tries to catch up, and niki—still warm beside you—moves instantly, like your smallest shift is a silent call. “hey, baby,” he whispers, voice gentler now, the edge completely gone, replaced with something soft and glowing. his hand smooths down your back, fingertips barely grazing your skin, so careful it makes your throat tighten. “you did so good for me, angel… so, so good,” he murmurs, brushing damp strands of hair away from your face, already having a damp drag to clean you up as he turns you gently onto your side to face him. his eyes are big and kind now, full of quiet concern as he searches your face. “was i too much?” he asks, thumb stroking under your eye. you shake your head slowly, lips parting to speak, but he kisses your forehead before you can, just holding you like he doesn’t want to let go.

he sits up just enough to reach for the blanket at the foot of the bed, pulling it up over your shoulders, tucking it around you with such delicate care that it makes your chest ache. “my sweet girl,” he breathes against your skin, pressing a kiss to your temple, then another one to your cheek. “you’re everything,” he says, almost too softly to hear, like the words are meant more for him than for you. his hand cradles your jaw, thumb ghosting over your lips, and he watches you with that same wonder in his eyes that he walked in with—like he still can’t believe you’re real. “you alright?” he asks again, and when you nod, he finally lets his eyes drop, resting his forehead against yours. the silence between you feels sacred now, the kind that doesn’t need filling. your fingers find his chest, right over his heart, and his arm comes around you in an instant, pulling you flush to his body, like you’re something precious he’s scared to lose.

you feel his lips on your shoulder, soft and lingering, and he whispers into your skin, “you’re mine for the night, yeah?” it’s playful but carries that thread of something heavier, something unspoken. “my pretty thing,” he adds, lips brushing against your collarbone, “so perfect for me, all the time.” you hum softly, eyelids fluttering closed as his warmth envelops you, his thumb rubbing lazy circles into the small of your back. he shifts again, just slightly, to lay flat on his back, pulling you with him until your head rests on his chest, the steady beat of his heart thumping beneath your ear. his hand drifts up and down your spine, the motion lulling, hypnotic, as you melt deeper into the safety of his arms. “don’t go just yet,” he whispers, his words melting into the quiet like a promise. “wanna keep you like this… wanna take care of you.”

“you were so good for me,” he whispers again, the words grazing your skin as his fingers trace lazy patterns along your spine. “so fucking good, angel… i don’t think i’ll ever get over it.” his voice is heavy with something deeper than lust now, something more vulnerable, like he’s still trying to understand what just happened between you. your body stays curled against his for a moment longer, cheek pressed to his chest, heart still thudding from the aftershocks. he keeps praising you, murmuring sweet, reverent things—how perfect you were, how beautiful you looked cuffed to his bed, how good you tasted, how lucky he feels. his fingers stroke your hair, and for a moment, it feels like time has slowed down, caught in the lull between pleasure and reality. “nobody’s ever made me feel like that,” he says, barely audible. “nobody but you.”

the creak of the front door is faint, distant—barely there—but enough to flick his gaze up toward his bedroom door. he doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything, assuming it’s just jungwon returning early or forgetting something, but the moment shifts. he feels it before he sees it—the way your breath catches, the way your body pulls ever so slightly away from him. his arms stay around you for a heartbeat longer, hesitant, like maybe you’ll settle back into him, but you don’t. instead, you begin to slip from his hold, soft and slow, reaching for your clothing at the foot of the bed. “where are you going?” he asks, voice low, thick with confusion and something close to panic, even though he tries to hide it. your back is turned, fingers clumsy as you tug the fabric into place, and it makes something twist in his chest. “hey…” he sits up slightly, the blanket falling from his shoulders, eyes scanning you with something fragile behind them.

you don’t answer right away—just focus on smoothing the hem of your skirt, swallowing down whatever tangled feeling is tightening in your throat. he watches you like he’s afraid to speak too loud, like one wrong word might break whatever thread is holding you here. “you don’t have to go,” he says softly, reaching out to brush your wrist, but his hand falls away when you flinch, just barely. his brows pull together, concern etched across his face as he shifts to the edge of the bed. “did i do something wrong?” the question lands heavy in the air between you, sincere and wounded. you shake your head, eyes still not meeting his, voice caught somewhere deep in your chest. “no… you were perfect,” you whisper, and it’s the truth—but it doesn’t make this any easier. “i just… i need a minute.”

you don’t even realize you’re holding your breath until the door clicks shut behind you. the cool air from the hallway brushes against your skin as you step into the dim light of the living room, arms wrapped around yourself like a shield. your pulse is still racing, chest tight, head swimming from the whiplash of pleasure and confusion. you don’t know what you’re looking for—air, clarity, escape—but you don’t get far before you hear niki’s soft footsteps behind you. “wait—please,” he says gently, voice not demanding, but laced with concern, the same kind he wore in bed when he held your face and kissed you like you were breakable. you turn halfway, but before either of you can speak, a shuffle of movement catches your attention in the far corner of the room. your eyes lift—and freeze. six familiar faces stare back at you.

heeseung is standing near the kitchen island, brows furrowed, mouth slightly parted as if he’d just started to speak but forgot what he was going to say. jay leans forward in the arm of the couch, confusion hardening the lines of his jaw, while jake stands behind him, arms crossed but expression unreadable. sunghoon’s gaze is sharp, flicking from your face to niki’s like he’s trying to piece together something unspoken. sunoo’s lips part in shock, his posture rigid, and jungwon… jungwon’s eyes stay on you longer than the rest, wide and searching, like he’s seeing a ghost. no one says anything at first—not even you. your throat tightens again as you scan the room, heart thudding like a drumbeat too loud in your ears, the weight of seven gazes pressing down on your skin.

niki’s hand touches your lower back instinctively, but even he looks stunned, like he hadn’t expected them to be here. “i… didn’t know anyone else was home,” he mumbles under his breath, but it’s too late. the silence is suffocating, thick with implications none of you are ready to voice. you open your mouth to speak, to explain something, anything—but you don’t even know what you’d say. and before you can form a single word, jay finally breaks the silence. “what the fuck…” he asks quietly, not angry… but something close. you swallow hard, lips parting, but nothing comes out—because you don’t know either. not what to say, not how to feel, not what this moment even means. 

you blink, trying to form words, trying to make sense of what you’re seeing—of how they’re all here. you had known something was off, sure, but not this. not like this. you glance at jungwon again, his expression softer than the rest, but there’s something guarded in it now too. niki says nothing, just stands there, unreadable as ever. your hands tremble at your sides, the reality crashing into you like a tidal wave. they know. they all know. and what’s worse—you didn’t. “you all… know each other?” you manage to ask, voice barely above a whisper, and no one answers.

your throat tightens. your feet move before your mind catches up. you push past them, and out the front door. the door clicks behind you, a final exhale, and the cold air outside slaps you in the face like a wake-up call. for a second, you just stand there, stunned, arms wrapped around yourself as your heart spirals. you were supposed to be in control. this was supposed to be just content. just fun. but you’re not sure anymore—not with how heavy your chest feels, how badly your eyes sting, how every one of their faces is etched into your memory. you didn’t plan on catching feelings.

and now, you don’t know who you’re walking away from because you’re not just tangled in something complicated. 

you’re the thread that’s pulling everything apart and they’re not going to let you go so easily.

natty's notesᝰ.ᐟ only one more chapter :(

taglistᝰ.ᐟ @starry-eyed-bimbo @vixialuvs @justaquarium @dark-moon-light02 @deobitifull @minjeong28 @wonzzziezzzz @wonsohl @psychicyouthfox @honeyfever @strayy-kidz @bloomiize @tunafishyfishylike @jaehaki @ihearteatingxo @songbyeonkim @sol3chu @mo0neng3ne @strxwbloody @hii01mii @merwdusa @dorrissakurada @lycxee @frequentlykit @heeenha6484 @sjakewrld @stwrlightt @parkjjongswifey @haneulhee @fr34k4c1dr41n @cozyre @vwricky @nyxtwixx @nuggets4lifers @yunkiconico @mynameis-rosie1 @leeknowslefteyebrow @babygguk98 @noiiny @horijiro

──

you don’t even realize you’ve stopped breathing until the number on the page blurs in front of your eyes. the red ink bleeds through the letter like it’s been branded there on purpose, like it’s taunting you. bold, underlined, and cruel: payment past due. the amount is higher than you thought. higher than last month. higher than what’s sitting in your checking account—and your savings? nonexistent. your fingers twitch around the edges of the paper, and you stare at it for a few seconds longer, as if maybe if you look hard enough, the numbers will shrink, change, disappear entirely.

but they don’t.

your hands move slowly, almost disconnected, as you place the letter down on the edge of the kitchen counter. the paper crinkles beneath your fingertips, the sound sharp in the quiet of the apartment. you rake your fingers through your hair, dragging your nails gently across your scalp, trying to ground yourself—trying not to panic. it’s not working.

you don’t have time for this. not now. not with finals looming, two shifts left this weekend, and rent due in five days.

the sound of approaching footsteps makes you flinch.

“everything okay?” nari’s voice is soft, cautious, like she already knows the answer. she probably does. she always does.

you don’t look at her. not yet. you feel her presence behind you, hovering by the counter, hesitating. she picks up the letter carefully, and you hear her breath catch as her eyes scan the contents. there’s a beat of silence before she speaks.

“it’s more than last month,” she says, barely above a whisper.

you nod, still not meeting her eyes. your throat feels dry, your heart pounding behind your ribs like it’s trying to escape. the shame tastes bitter in your mouth.

“i can’t pay it,” you finally say, voice flat. “i barely made it through last month’s bill. and now they’ve added more fees.”

it’s not new. this has been happening every few months. random charges. late penalties. service increases you never agreed to. and no matter how many hours you work or how much sleep you lose, it never seems to be enough. you thought you were managing. thought maybe you were finally getting ahead, even just a little. but here it is—proof that you’re still drowning.

nari places the letter back down and moves to stand beside you. she doesn’t speak right away. her eyes flick toward you, soft with concern. she’s been your roommate for over a year now—someone you met through a shared thread on social media venting about overpriced meal plans and the bullshit cost of dorm laundry. back then, you were both strangers trying to navigate the mess of college life with nothing but broken bank accounts and coffee-stained syllabi.

now, she feels like family.

you’ve always admired how gentle she is, how thoughtful. she worries without smothering, helps without asking, gives even when she barely has enough for herself. you hate how easily she sees through you.

“i’m so sorry, y/n,” she says gently. “let me help. i mean it. just this once.”

you squeeze your eyes shut. you’ve had this conversation before. more than once. every time the bills show up with too many zeroes or your bank app sends another low balance alert, she offers. she always offers. and you always refuse.

because this is your responsibility. your education. your choice.

you never wanted to drag her into the mess you made just trying to survive.

“nari, no. it’s fine,” you say, brushing it off the same way you always do, even though nothing about this feels fine. “i’ll figure it out. i’ll… find another job or something.”

another job. the words sound ridiculous even as they leave your mouth. you’re already balancing two. your body aches at the thought of adding a third, your schedule stretched so thin it feels like one missed alarm could unravel everything.

nari doesn’t argue. she just stands there, looking at you with wide, worried eyes that say more than her words ever could.

you turn away.

you don’t want to see that look. don’t want to see the guilt in her expression or the way her lips part like she’s about to say something she knows you won’t let her finish. instead, you press your palms flat to the cool countertop and try to slow your breathing.

you can’t keep doing this. living check to check. sacrificing sleep, time, your sanity—only to still come up short.

“let me help find you one, y/n. at least let me do that…” her voice was quiet but firm, laced with the kind of gentle urgency that made it hard to ignore. she pulled out one of the kitchen chairs and sat down beside you, her knees bumping yours softly as she reached for your hands.

her fingers curled around yours without hesitation—warm, grounding, comforting in a way that made your chest ache.

“you’ll get out of this before you know it,” she said, her thumbs brushing over your knuckles. “just hang on a little longer.”

the words should’ve felt like encouragement. to someone else, maybe they would have. but to you, they barely registered. her voice echoed distantly in your ears, dulled by the weight pressing down on your shoulders. you wanted to believe her. you really did. but there was only so much hope could do when your brain felt like it was unraveling thread by thread.

you were tired.

not just physically—though that part never seemed to go away—but mentally, emotionally, in a way that left you hollow at the edges. your thoughts were messy. loud. overwhelmed with numbers and due dates and rejection emails you didn’t have the energy to open.

you’d always wanted more for yourself. a degree. a real future. stability. success. the version of adulthood that didn’t involve counting coins at the bottom of your purse to buy groceries. being able to chase something you loved without sacrificing everything just to survive.

and yet… here you were. still stuck. still drowning.

“i’ll talk to my friends,” nari added, her voice picking up as she stood again. “i’ll ask around, see if any of their jobs are hiring. you don’t have to do this alone, okay?”

you blinked up at her, too tired to protest, too drained to offer anything back. you barely nodded.

she didn’t wait for an answer. instead, she gently tugged you to your feet and led you toward your room, her hands guiding you like muscle memory.

“just hurry,” she said over her shoulder, already halfway down the hall. “get ready before you’re late.”

you let the door close behind you, the soft click echoing in the quiet space, and leaned back against it for a second too long—breathing in slow, like maybe it would help ease the burning behind your eyes.

but it didn’t.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

you can’t hear yourself think anymore. the noise presses in from every direction—muffled conversation, the beep of the register, shoes skidding across tile, the mechanical whirring of the blender as it screams through another drink. the scent of syrup, espresso, and sweat mixes into something you’re far too familiar with by now. it clings to your clothes, seeps into your hair, follows you home every night and lingers even after you’ve scrubbed your skin raw.

your apron feels too tight around your waist. the name tag keeps flipping over, catching on your shirt. your hands ache from repetition. your back stings from bending, twisting, reaching for things without stopping. your legs burn, but you keep standing. because if you stop—just for a second—you don’t know if you’ll start again.

you’ve lost count of how many customers you’ve helped. they blur together—faces that don’t really look at you, names that repeat too often, voices that never say please. someone spilled a drink ten minutes ago and just stared at you like it was your fault. someone else snapped when you misunderstood their order and then smiled like it never happened. you’re used to it. too used to it.

the blender screams again, and you find yourself zoning out, eyes on the flashing light of the machine, ears ringing. you place a sweaty cup down on the counter just as your coworker brushes past you, muttering something, her voice barely registers.

“we’re out of cold brew, can you let the manager know?” she says, breathless.

you nod without thinking and duck into the back, weaving past crates of milk and mop buckets that haven’t been moved since your last shift. you find her—your manager—hovering near the inventory shelf, tablet in hand, expression unreadable. she looks up when she hears you but doesn’t say anything. just waits.

“we’re out of cold brew again,” you say softly.

her sigh is immediate. clipped. already annoyed. “i told the morning crew to prep more.”

“they didn’t,” you reply, just as soft.

she exhales again and gives you a glance that feels like a warning. “make a new batch. and try to keep the line moving—we’re backed up out there.”

you hesitate, shifting your weight from foot to foot, unsure if now’s a good time. but you don’t have a choice. not really.

“hey,” you begin, voice lighter than you feel, “i was wondering… if you had any extra shifts next week? i could take one. or two. anything that opens up, i’ll take it.”

you see it the moment her expression changes. not enough to be obvious, but enough that you feel it in your gut. she blinks at you once, slow. “you already have four shifts on the schedule.”

“i know,” you say quickly. “i just… if anyone drops or calls out—”

“i’ll let you know if something comes up,” she interrupts, sharper now. “but we’re fully staffed right now. you’re already lucky to have the hours you do.”

lucky.

that one stings.

you nod like it doesn’t bother you. “okay. thanks anyway.”

you turn back toward the front before she can see the heat crawl up your neck. the shame, the frustration, the quiet burn of helplessness that never seems to leave you alone. it coils tight in your chest as you slide back behind the counter, the overwhelming noise greeting you like a wave to the face.

you move through the orders on autopilot—pour, cap, swipe, pass. your body knows the motions. it always does. even when your brain doesn’t catch up. your arms are heavy. your thoughts are too loud.

your phone buzzes in your apron pocket.

technically, you’re not supposed to check it during a shift. but you do anyway, slipping your hand inside just enough to pull it out, eyes flicking to the screen beneath the counter.

nari: i have something to tell you.

you pause.

your breath catches in your throat.

the message is short. way too short. there are no emojis, no dramatics, no little additions she usually throws in to make you laugh. it’s clean. intentional. unsettling.

you type back fast.

you okay? what’s up?

your fingers hover over the screen, waiting. no immediate reply. no typing bubbles. just silence.

you slip your phone back into your apron, heart racing now—not from caffeine or exhaustion but from something else. dread, maybe. anxiety. it curls low in your stomach and spreads like smoke, slow and sickly.

the hours bleed together until they don’t feel real anymore. it’s like you blinked and suddenly the sky was dark, the register was silent, and your shift was over. you don’t even remember clocking out. your body moves on instinct as you grab your things, slinging your bag over one shoulder, feet dragging slightly with every step. you’re too tired to even complain out loud. exhaustion sits heavy on your shoulders, weighing down every bone like bricks. every joint aches. your eyes sting from the fluorescent lights. your muscles are tight, sore, stretched too far. and the worst part is knowing you’ll have to do it all again tomorrow.

the walk home is a blur. you barely register the passing cars or the hum of traffic. your legs are on autopilot, your thoughts too noisy to settle into anything coherent. by the time you reach your building, your fingers fumble with the key from how badly they’re shaking—whether from fatigue or stress, you’re not sure.

the moment the front door swings open, you’re greeted by a sudden, high-pitched sound that makes you flinch.

“oh my god, y/n!”

nari’s voice rings out before you even step fully inside. she appears from around the corner, practically bouncing on her feet as she rushes toward you with wide eyes and a wild grin.

“i think i’ve secured something for you!” she announces proudly, reaching to help you with your things without waiting for permission. your bag slides off your shoulder with her help, and she carefully sets it down on the couch before turning to face you again.

you blink at her, too tired to match her energy, voice low and worn. “how so?”

the contrast between your tone and hers is stark—hers bright and excited, yours soft, raspy, touched with exhaustion that even you can hear.

“okay, so,” she starts, already walking toward the kitchen like she’s been waiting all day to spill this. “i was talking to one of my classmates earlier—casual stuff, whatever—and she would not shut up about this app she’s using and this guy she’s obsessed with on it.”

you follow her slowly, the smell of something warm and savory pulling you forward. dinner is already set out, steam curling up from the bowls on the counter. she’s cooked again. you don’t even have the energy to thank her properly, but it sits in your chest like a quiet comfort.

“she said it’s this platform where you can post content—videos, mostly—and people follow you, tip you, subscribe to see more. apparently, it’s easy money if you know how to catch attention,” nari continues, grabbing utensils and placing them gently next to your bowl.

you lean against the counter, brows slightly furrowed as you try to keep up.

“what kind of videos?” you ask slowly.

and that’s when she pauses.

her hands still for a second, and you notice the subtle way her eyes flick to the side—toward the fridge, the floor, anywhere but you. she busies herself wiping down a clean countertop, her mouth tight, like she’s carefully choosing what not to say.

the silence stretches just a little too long.

you narrow your eyes. “nari?”

she still doesn’t look at you, her fingers now fiddling with the corner of a napkin that doesn’t need adjusting.

and that’s when you know—whatever she’s about to suggest, it’s not exactly a regular part-time job.

you don’t say anything. not at first.

you just watch her fidget—her hands smoothing the same wrinkle over and over again, her mouth parting like she wants to say something but can’t figure out where to start. her excitement from earlier has dimmed slightly, not completely gone, just… more careful now. the shift is subtle but it’s there, and you feel it tighten something in your chest.

your voice is quieter this time. gentler. “what kind of videos, nari?”

she glances up at you for a split second, then looks away again, reaching to stir a pot that isn’t even on the stove. she’s stalling.

finally, she exhales, turning back to you with both palms pressed to the counter.

“okay, so… don’t freak out.”

you stare at her.

“it’s… kind of a subscription thing,” she says, slow and cautious. “like, you post content—just whatever you’re comfortable with—and people tip you for it. sometimes a lot.”

you don’t speak. not yet. you just let her keep going.

“my classmate told me she made almost five hundred dollars in one weekend. literally just from one post. and this guy she follows? apparently he makes thousands. like, thousands. maybe even millions.”

your mouth is dry.

“what kind of content?” you repeat, even though you already know the answer.

nari bites her lip. her eyes finally meet yours. “sexy stuff,” she admits. “but it doesn’t have to be all out. it can be suggestive. artistic. faceless, even.”

you blink at her. once. twice.

the silence between you stretches until it’s not silence anymore—it’s tension. thick and heavy, sitting right in the center of the kitchen with both of you tiptoeing around it.

“it’s not as intense as it sounds,” she adds quickly. “she said she started small. built her page up over time. and no one from school found out. not even her roommates.”you sink into one of the kitchen chairs, your arms resting limply in your lap. you don’t say anything yet. you’re not even sure what you feel.

nari’s eyes soften as she watches you. “i know it sounds… out there. but i just thought—i don’t know, maybe it’s something you could look into. just to hold you over until things get better.”

you nod, but it’s slow. not agreement—just acknowledgment.

you’re too tired to argue. too drained to pretend the idea isn’t already crawling under your skin, planting itself somewhere dangerous.

because the truth is, you’ve heard of it. everyone has. whispered about in late-night dorm conversations, on private stories, in anonymous confessions posted on spam accounts. girls making rent money in a weekend. boys going viral for being faceless and filthy and addictive.

you never imagined doing it yourself.

but then again… you never imagined being this broke, either.

you stare at your untouched bowl of food, heart thudding softly in your chest.

you’re not disgusted. not even shocked.

you’re just… thinking.

and that scares you more than anything else.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

you tell yourself you’re just looking.

that’s it.

just a little more scrolling. just a few more profiles. you’re not doing anything. you haven’t made an account. you haven’t posted. you haven’t committed to anything except curiosity, and that—well, that’s harmless, right?

you open your laptop again. it’s sometime past midnight. your room is dim, the only light coming from your screen and the soft amber glow of the lamp tucked in the corner of your desk. it casts everything in that moody, late-night hue that makes the whole world feel quieter. heavier.

you pull your knees up to your chest, the blanket draped loosely over your shoulders as the homepage loads. it’s different now. you’re not looking aimlessly anymore. you know what to search for. you type top creators, and a list appears almost instantly.

you click one.

@heefreakshow. verified. 5.2 million subscribers.

his profile loads, and it’s exactly what you expect. polished, but not too polished. his display photo is somewhat dark and grainy, a half-lit frame of his bare chest, chin tilted up just enough to be teasing without giving anything away. the banner across the top reads: “i don’t just talk dirty. i make you feel it.”

his content is locked, but the previews aren’t.

you hover for a moment, your thumb pausing above one of the thumbnails before tapping it without thinking. the video opens in a small window, looped, muted at first, but it doesn’t matter—what pulls you in is the way he fills the frame. it starts with a soft hum of music, low and bassy, vibrating faintly through your speakers as the camera tilts upward from a dark-lit bed.

his chest appears first—broad, smooth, glowing faintly under the moody blue light. he’s shirtless, his skin flushed, breathing slow but deep. the camera dips, revealing his thighs spread wide and relaxed, and the hard, unmistakable bulge straining through his pants. your breath catches. the fabric looks tight—too tight—like it’s fighting to contain him. you can almost feel the pressure through the screen.

his hands trail over his torso, slow and lazy, fingers dragging along the curves of his stomach, tracing the line of muscle before resting on the waistband of his pants. his face isn’t fully visible—just the faintest shadow of his jaw, a teasing sliver of his bottom lip. the only thing clearly captured is his hair: pink, messy, soft-looking and slightly damp, like he’s just run his hands through it too many times.

and then he moves.

his fingers slip down, unbuttoning his pants with quick, practiced ease. the zipper lowers with a soft click, and he pushes the fabric down just enough for his cock to spring free, already hard, tip flushed and leaking as it rests against his abdomen. his breath stutters slightly, chest rising as he wraps his hand around himself, stroking slow—deliberate, like he’s savoring it. he tilts his hips toward the camera, giving you a better view, and you swear he’s looking straight at you even though you can’t see his eyes.

his voice comes in a beat later—low, raspy, thick with arousal.

“i couldn’t help myself, baby…”

you feel something warm twist in your stomach. the words feel too direct, too personal. his pace quickens as precum beads at the tip, slicking over his fingers as he groans, deep and breathy, like it’s pulled straight from his chest.

his other hand rises, trailing over his stomach until it reaches his chest, fingers pinching at one nipple as his hips twitch upward. the reaction is instant—a quiet moan spilling from his mouth as his head tilts back slightly, lips parted in pleasure.

“fuck…” he breathes out, barely audible between sharp inhales. “i want you here with me, baby…”

you freeze, the weight of the moment crawling down your spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

you scroll down to the next name on the list.

@jayafterhours. verified. 5.3 million subscribers.

his banner is simple—black background, sharp white font. his bio reads: “don’t waste my time unless you can take it.”

you don’t hesitate. you click.

the video loads instantly, and the difference between him and the last profile is immediate. there’s nothing soft about it. no slow lighting, no teasing buildup. it opens straight into a scene already mid-motion—loud moans echoing through your speakers, fast and desperate, though none of them are coming from him.

the camera is perfectly framed, clearly placed on a desk, angled to capture everything without obstruction. a woman lies flat on her front, arms outstretched as her fingers curl over the edge of the wood. her legs tremble slightly, back arched, skin damp with sweat. behind her, jay moves with sharp, brutal rhythm—his hands gripping her hips like he owns them, fingers pressing deep into the flesh as he drives into her hard enough to rock the table beneath them.

“such a fucking slut, aren’t you?” he grits out, his voice low and full of gravel, each syllable landing like a slap.

his hand comes down suddenly to grip her ass, squeezing tight before delivering a sharp slap that makes her body jolt. the sound of skin meeting skin cracks through the room. she lets out a choked moan, broken and messy.

“d-don’t stop—j-jay!” she cries, voice high, shaking as her nails drag along the desk surface for something to hold on to.

but you barely register her.

your eyes stay on him.

he doesn’t look at the camera—not directly—but the angle captures enough. his head is tilted back slightly, the veins in his neck prominent, his jaw clenched. his lips are caught between his teeth, biting down like he’s holding something back. there’s a faint flush along his collarbone, sweat trailing down the side of his throat.

he isn’t shirtless.

somehow, that makes it worse.

he’s dressed in a crisp white button-down, slightly wrinkled now, sleeves pushed up to his elbows. a black tie hangs loosely around his neck, the knot crooked like it was tugged halfway through the scene. it swings gently with the movement of his hips, adding to the rhythm, the sound, the image of him fully in control without even needing to try.

there’s something terrifyingly composed about him. like he’s done this a thousand times. like nothing surprises him anymore. like the entire scene is unfolding exactly how he planned it.

and yet, despite the chaos, the noise, the cries echoing off the walls—you can’t stop looking at him.

you don’t hesitate when your eyes land on the next name.

@jakeoncam. verified. 5.5 million subscribers.

simple bio: “i like being watched.”

your heart skips slightly as you click on the preview, already familiar with the routine by now. and yet, nothing about this feels repetitive—each creator you've looked at so far has had their own way of pulling you in, but jake’s feels… different.

the screen fades in slowly, no music, no buildup. just the soft creak of bedsheets and the low, wet sound of friction. he’s fully on display, his body stretched across a dark comforter, shirtless, skin glowing with a light sheen of sweat. the camera is placed at a low angle, perfectly capturing the curve of his back as he grinds down onto a pillow with messy, desperate rhythm.

his blonde hair sticks to his forehead in damp strands, a few pieces plastered to his cheek. his eyes are shut tight, brows drawn in deep concentration, lips parted as he pants softly into the mattress. his hips roll in tight, fluid motions, the muscles in his thighs flexing as he presses himself down harder into the cushion.

“fuck… i’m gonna cum… fuck, baby…”

his voice is breathless—higher, whinier than the others—and it hits you unexpectedly. it’s not performance. it sounds real. wrecked. like he’s been holding back for too long and is just now letting go.

he gasps softly, his pace stuttering, body tensing as the pressure builds—but the clip cuts off just before the release, leaving you blinking at your screen with your chest tight and your legs shifting.

you don’t realize how long you’ve been holding your breath until it escapes you all at once.

and you don’t stop there.

you move onto the next one almost instinctively, driven more by something primal now. not even out of curiosity anymore—need. something about each of them feels increasingly personal, like they’re not just performers, but something else. something closer.

@hoononrepeat. verified. 5.3 million subscribers. “if it’s not messy, i don’t want it.”

you click, the motion smooth and practiced now. part of you knows you’re getting too deep, that this is becoming more than just research, but you don’t stop.

his video starts mid-motion.

the frame is tight, focused completely on him—sunghoon’s hand gripping his cock, already soaked and shining with cum, sliding along the length with slow, deliberate strokes. his chest is heaving, his abs flexing with each movement. the lighting is dark, moody, barely enough to cast definition over his frame, and yet it still highlights every shift of muscle.

a silhouette appears at the bottom of the screen—a woman, faceless, mouth parted and positioned perfectly beneath him. her head bobs forward as he pushes his cock into her mouth without hesitation.

he groans, long and drawn out, his voice rough like it’s scraped from the bottom of his throat.

“fucking hell…”

his hand buries in her hair, fingers curling tight as he guides her down, hips jerking forward sharply. the wet sound of it echoes faintly, almost drowned out by his ragged breathing. she gags softly, hands pressing at his thighs, but he doesn’t let up.

he’s focused. lost. unrelenting.

“take it,” he mutters, jaw clenched. “take all of it, princess…”

the words hit hard. not because of what he says, but how he says it—low, commanding, almost personal. like he knows you’re watching. like the words aren’t meant for her at all.

you feel your pulse thud somewhere low in your stomach. your fingers curl tighter around the edge of your laptop.

you should stop.

but you don’t.

@watchmesunoo. verified. 5.4 million subscribers.

his page is simple—light pastel banner, soft text, almost misleading at first glance. but when the preview loads, there’s nothing soft about it. it starts mid-action, no intro, no setup—just raw, unfiltered need. his body fills the screen, the lighting harsh enough to highlight the tension in his muscles, the sweat slicking down his chest in messy trails.

his hand holds a small vibrator—slim, silver, and humming at a steady pace as he presses it along the length of his cock. it’s already hard, flushed dark and leaking, twitching visibly each time the buzzing toy runs over his slit. he slides it slowly, teasingly, from the base to the tip, circling it around the head before dragging it back down again. his hips jerk, his thighs tightening under the pressure.

his face is in view. fully.

his cheeks are red, tear-streaked, lips trembling with every breath. wet hair clings to his forehead in dark strands, and his eyes are glassy—shiny with desperation, the kind that makes your chest tighten just watching. he looks completely wrecked. beautiful in a way that shouldn’t feel this intimate, like you’ve caught him in something far too private.

“fuck… noona…” he whines, voice high and broken as his fingers curl tight around the bed sheets. “let me cum… please—noona…”

his hand trembles slightly as he lowers the vibrator, pressing it to the base of his cock as his other hand slides upward, two fingers dragging through the mess that’s already smeared across the head. he rubs the tip quickly, desperately, almost like he’s punishing himself for how close he is. his back arches sharply, the line of his throat exposed, jaw slack as more tears spill freely down his cheeks.

“f-fuckkk—i’m cumming!” he cries out, voice cracking as his body jerks violently, hips lifting off the mattress.

you can’t look away.

his cock twitches hard in his hand, and a thick wave of cum spills over his fingers, dripping down in messy strands that coat his palm and smear over his abdomen. his chest heaves. his thighs shake. he doesn’t stop moving until his hand is completely soaked and his voice has faded into soft, hiccuping breaths.

you’re still staring, eyes wide, mouth parted slightly. the screen is glowing in the dark of your room, and all you can do is sit there, frozen, pulse pounding behind your ribs as the clip loops quietly again.

@wonsodirty. verified. 5.2 million subscribers.

his profile surprises you even more.

the name alone already catches your eye—bold, a little cheeky, a little misleading. you expect something bratty, maybe cocky, something playful or reckless. but when the preview loads, it’s none of that.

it’s quiet. intimate.

the camera is placed at a low angle, steady, fixed on soft bedsheets that shift with every subtle movement. the lighting is warm and dim, the kind that wraps everything in a golden hue and makes skin look like silk. there’s a soft rustling in the background, the sound of him breathing, uneven and slightly hitched.

he comes into frame slowly—first his legs, then his thighs, spread slightly apart as he settles against the headboard. he’s not doing much at first. just breathing. just existing. but even that feels heavy with tension, like something just below the surface is about to break.

he’s shirtless. not in a performative way. just bare. his chest rises and falls in shallow motions, skin flushed with heat, the faintest sheen of sweat glinting under the soft light. his hand moves slowly at first, fingers wrapped tight around the base of his cock, stroking with careful precision. it’s already hard, already leaking at the tip, the kind of arousal that’s been building for far too long.

you watch as he closes his eyes, biting down on his bottom lip, his brows knitting together like he’s trying not to fall apart too quickly.

then, he whispers something—so soft you almost miss it.

“feels so good…”

his voice is high, sweet, breathy in the most fragile way. and it’s real. not loud. not dirty. just pure and cracked with something raw.

his strokes stay slow, almost too slow, like he’s punishing himself for how sensitive he is. his hips twitch every time he passes over the tip, precum smearing down the shaft and making his hand glisten as he continues.

you can’t help but watch his face—how red his ears are, how hard he’s trying to keep his composure. you notice how his legs tense, thighs flexing every time he lets out one of those quiet, needy sounds.

his strokes get faster, hips starting to lift slightly off the bed, his thighs trembling beneath him. he looks like he’s trying to hold back. like he’s afraid of what’ll happen if he lets go too soon.

“i can’t… i c-can’t hold it, please…”

he cries out as his hand jerks up once, twice, and then his entire body stutters. his back arches just slightly, his mouth dropping open in a silent gasp as ropes of cum spill over his fist, painting across his stomach in messy spurts.

his breathing turns shaky. his head tilts back against the pillow, eyes fluttering, lips parted as a tiny, breathless whimper escapes him.

the clip ends with his fingers still curled tightly around himself, his chest rising fast, his body twitching as he comes down—wrecked and glowing and silent.

you move onto the last profile.

@nikiuncensored. verified. 5.6 million subscribers.

the name alone already tells you everything you need to know. it feels reckless. raw. unapologetically bold in a way that makes your pulse skip without warning. you hesitate only for a second before clicking on the preview.

the video starts without ceremony—no soft intro, no teasing buildup. just action. the camera is low, placed somewhere near the base of the woman’s stomach. you can’t see her face, not even her chest—just the lower curve of her abdomen rising and falling with every sharp breath she takes. her thighs tremble faintly at the edges of the frame, knees slightly parted, twitching every time his mouth presses in.

but she’s the background.

your eyes go straight to him.

ni-ki comes into view slowly—his shoulders first, broad and tense, then his head, tipped slightly as his mouth lowers between her legs. his tongue flicks upward in tight, rhythmic strokes, wet and steady, circling over the clit with agonizing precision. the movement is deliberate. practiced. his lips part to suck softly, then flatten again as he switches pace, building her up in waves.

his fingers move with the same energy—two of them disappearing inside her only to pull out again, slick and glistening before they’re thrust back in with a soft squelch that echoes in the low hum of the room. the air is heavy. the lighting is dim, warm enough to cast shadows over the sharp line of his jaw, the flushed curve of his cheeks.

“fuck…” he breathes, voice strained with something between amusement and awe, “you’re so fucking wet…”

he groans as he presses in harder, his mouth practically consuming her now, lips wrapped fully around her clit as he sucks with loud, messy slurps. the sound is obscene, echoing in the quiet room—wet and desperate and hungry.

his eyes flutter shut, like he’s savoring the taste. like he could stay there all night and never come up for air. his free hand curls around the outside of her thigh, gripping tight, keeping her in place as his tongue works mercilessly. her moans are loud, cracked and high-pitched, but you barely register them. all you can hear is him—groaning, gasping, devouring.

he moves his head side to side slightly, mouth still latched to her clit, and the slurping sound becomes louder, wetter. his fingers curl up inside her and she screams, hips jerking toward his face, but he doesn’t back off. if anything, he doubles down.

he growls, low in his throat, sending vibrations straight into her core as his grip tightens.

and you’re stuck there—watching the way his mouth works, the way his muscles flex with every movement, the way he loses himself in it like it’s the only thing that matters.

the preview cuts off just as his lips part again, tongue dragging in a long, slow lick up her slit like he’s far from done.

and god—you believe it.

you’re completely breathless.

your chest rises and falls in slow, uneven waves, lungs struggling to catch up with the flood of emotions coursing through your system. your skin is warm, flushed, your fingers twitching faintly from where they rest on your thighs. everything inside you feels electric. overstimulated. wired with something you can’t quite name—but it’s there.

now, finally, you understand.

you understand why this app—the one you opened on a whim—could stir something so heavy inside you. why it’s been sitting in the back of your mind like a spark waiting for oxygen. it’s not just sex. it’s not just content. it’s control. attention. power.

you shift slightly where you sit, the damp heat between your thighs impossible to ignore. your panties are soaked, your breath shallow, and despite the way your body aches, you force yourself to sit up straighter. you push the thoughts down, shake your head, blink yourself back into focus.

you’ve battled with yourself long enough.

without giving yourself the space to overthink it, your finger moves. you press the button—create account—and watch the screen change, your heart racing with each small confirmation box that pops up in front of you.

you type quickly. no hesitation now. @babydollxo.

the name feels soft. flirty. safe.

but the next part isn’t so easy.

you hesitate when it asks for a profile photo. you scroll through your gallery—old pictures, half-deleted mirror selfies, nothing that feels right. nothing that says what you want it to say. nothing that matches the version of yourself you’re about to become.

you toss your phone onto the bed and push off the covers, the sheets falling away from your legs in soft folds as you rise to your feet. your room is still quiet, dimly lit by the lamp in the corner, casting soft golden shadows across your walls.

you move quickly.

your drawer slides open with a soft clatter as you dig through the scattered mess inside—tangled bras, folded shorts, tucked-away lace. your fingers pause when they find it: a tiny, black thong. the skimpiest one you own. barely fabric at all.

you strip out of your shirt first, letting it fall to the floor without a second thought. the cool air hits your bare chest, making your nipples pebble instantly. there’s no hesitation now. no shame. just movement.

you tug the thong on slowly, adjusting it at your hips, letting the waistband hug your curves as you step in front of the mirror.

you pose without overthinking it—back facing the mirror, head turned slightly over your shoulder, your front angled just enough to tease without revealing everything. the lighting does the rest. it casts your silhouette in soft shadows, highlighting the curve of your waist, the dip of your spine, the swell of your hips. everything else remains hidden—blurred in the low glow of the lamp.

it’s just enough to make someone want more.

you lift your phone, frame the shot, and for the first time in a long time…you feel powerful.

you set your phone carefully on the edge of your desk, adjusting the angle until it captures only what you want it to—the lower half of your body, your thighs parted slightly, your stomach rising with shallow breaths. your face is out of view. there’s no light beyond the soft glow of your desk lamp, and the shadows cast across your skin make everything look muted, quiet, secretive.

your thumb hovers over the record button, trembling slightly. you're not nervous because you don’t know what you’re doing. you’re nervous because you do.

your mind is cluttered with noise. doubt swims through you in thick waves, crashing hard against the edges of your resolve. your chest feels tight. you can feel the fear circling in your gut, whispering things like what if you regret it? what if someone finds out? what if you can't take it back?

but the fear isn't loud enough to drown out the truth.

you think of the letter on the counter, the rent due in less than a week, the account notifications warning you that your balance is low—too low. you think of the long shifts, the missed hours, the denial from your manager. you think about how you’re out of options.

and then you press the button.

the recording begins. the red icon glows faintly in the corner of your screen. it’s happening now. you’ve officially started.

your breath catches as your hands move instinctively, dragging down the curve of your stomach with a slow, deliberate rhythm. you let your fingers tease the hem of your thong, playing with the waistband, pulling it slightly before letting it snap back into place. you don’t say a word. there’s no script for this. you let the action speak for itself.

you shift in your seat, angling your body just enough for the camera to catch the soft curve of your ass, arching your back to deepen the shadow and leave the details to the imagination. it’s subtle. sensual. controlled.

then, after a pause that makes your heart pound harder, you bring your fingers to the front of your thong. with one smooth motion, you pull the fabric aside.

just enough to reveal yourself.

your folds glisten, slick already gathered between them from the buildup of watching, waiting, and wanting all night. you’d been trying to ignore it. trying to focus on the mechanics of the process. but your body never really forgot. not after what you’d seen. not after the way they sounded.

your fingers move without hesitation now, sliding between your folds and gathering the wetness. you exhale slowly, letting the feeling settle, letting the camera keep rolling. your touch is gentle at first—small, slow circles around your clit, nothing too fast. you don’t want to rush. you want it to look natural. sensual. you want it to feel good.

and it does.

your body shifts. your back arches slightly. your thighs tense. your fingers grow bolder, faster. not by much—just enough to feel it start to build. your breathing grows uneven. soft, audible. you hold back the sound in your throat, biting your lip hard enough to feel the pressure.

and then you think of them.

the teasing smirk from the one who never broke eye contact. the groans that scraped low and rough from behind clenched teeth. the soft, desperate whimpers that bled through clenched fists and sweat-slick sheets. the sharp snap of a hand against skin. the steady rhythm of fingers soaked to the knuckle.

you remember the flushed cheeks. the breathless pleas. the soaked mouth of someone who looked ruined just from giving. the thighs that trembled under the weight of restraint. the tongue that moved with unshakable precision, curling into someone’s heat like it was instinct—like it was art.

your fingers speed up.

your hips jerk slightly, your body reacting without permission. you tilt your head back, eyes fluttering shut as your clit pulses beneath your touch.

“fuck…”

the word leaves you in a low, broken whisper. it’s almost inaudible. almost too quiet to catch. but it’s there.

your chest rises with effort as you force yourself to stay quiet—to stay in control. nari is just a few feet away, asleep or scrolling in the room next door. you can’t let her hear. you can’t risk that. so you press your lips together tightly and breathe through your nose, letting your hand do the talking.

your fingers move in tighter circles. your stomach contracts. your legs pull in slightly as the pleasure curls deeper inside you, hot and electric. you don’t stop. you can’t stop. not now.

you don’t need to speak. the way your body moves is enough.

the video keeps recording, and for a second, everything else disappears—your exhaustion, your guilt, your fear. all of it fades into the rhythm of your own breathing, the slick sound of your fingers working between your thighs, and the realization that this isn’t just a performance.

it’s power.

and for the first time in a long time… it’s yours.

your fingers work faster now, soaked and steady, slipping in and out of your cunt with a rhythm that’s grown almost frantic. the sound of it—slick, wet, obscene—echoes low in the quiet room, barely masked by the rapid stutter of your breath. your body moves with instinct, hips rising to meet your hand, legs spread wide as you chase the heat that’s been coiling deep in your core since the moment the video started.

you start with two fingers, curling them up just right to press against the spot that makes your stomach tighten. your lips press into a thin, trembling line as you try to keep quiet, forcing yourself to muffle the moans that threaten to spill out with every thrust. your walls clench tightly around your fingers, greedy, hot, desperate for more.

and you give it to yourself.

you let out a ragged breath as you push in a third finger, the stretch making your thighs tremble. the pressure is overwhelming now—blinding, almost painful in the best possible way. you shift in your chair, back arching as you press your heels into the floor, legs falling open wider to give yourself more space. your body is flushed and burning, skin damp with sweat, nipples tight from the brush of cool air and lingering adrenaline.

your chest heaves as you move faster, harder, fingers curling deep into yourself as the pleasure builds fast and sharp like a scream stuck in your throat. your head tilts back, eyes fluttering shut, and for a split second, you forget about the camera. you forget about the fear. you forget about everything but the feeling—

“fuck… oh my god…”

the words tear from your throat, broken and low, muffled by the force of your own clenched jaw. your legs start to shake, your body twitching with the effort to stay upright as your orgasm rushes up and crashes through you.

“fuckkk—i’m gonna cum… shit…”

your voice is higher now, cracked at the edges, as your hips jerk forward and your muscles seize. the pressure bursts all at once, your cunt clenching around your fingers as you gush hard, soaking your hand and the inside of your thighs. the release is hot, messy, completely overwhelming—wave after wave rolling through your body until you’re panting, twitching, slumped over the desk with your mouth open in a silent gasp.

your other hand scrambles toward your phone, shaking as you fumble to tap the screen. the camera is still recording—still capturing every shudder, every twitch, the flushed glow of your skin and the shine slicked over your thighs.

you end the video with one shaky movement, chest rising and falling as you try to catch your breath.

your hand is drenched. your skin is burning. your thoughts are scrambled.

and you don’t hesitate.

you upload it raw, unfiltered, untouched.

you don’t trim the edges. you don’t add a caption. you don’t even blink before pressing the button.

you want it to speak for itself.

you want them to wonder.

you watch the screen as the upload bar slowly completes, your profile still blank, still new, still waiting to be discovered.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

the soft chirp of birds cuts through the stillness of morning, gentle and rhythmic, floating in through the cracks of your half-open window. golden sunlight pours across your sheets, casting long shadows along your floor, warm and soft against your bare legs. your body is sprawled out lazily across the mattress, limbs tangled in the fabric as your eyes flutter open slowly, blinking away the blur of sleep.

your room is quiet except for the persistent buzz of your phone vibrating on the nightstand beside you. it hums every few seconds, faint but constant, like it's trying to get your attention. you glance at it, brows furrowing slightly, but you don’t reach for it. not yet. your body still feels heavy with sleep and something else—something deeper.

you push the covers off your legs, the cotton sheets rustling as you sit up and stretch, your spine arching with a soft crack. you move slowly, stepping onto the cool floorboards and making your way toward the bathroom, your legs stiff, your joints still waking up with you.

just as you reach the door, nari’s voice floats out from the hallway, warm and familiar.

“good morning, girl,” she calls casually, emerging from her room with a yawn, her hair tied up messily and hoodie falling off one shoulder. she looks at you for barely a second before launching into what’s clearly been sitting on her mind.

“so,” she says, tone direct, “are you planning on making an account?”

you pause.

the words land heavier than you expect, and for a second, the hallway feels too quiet—like her question has taken up all the space. the thought hadn’t left your mind, not really. it was still there, tucked into the corner of your chest like something that needed to be dealt with eventually. she had brought it up before. multiple times. her voice always hopeful. her offers always kind. and you always deflected.

your throat tightens. not painfully—but just enough to make you hesitate.

you turn to look at her, your expression unreadable. the memory of last night creeps back in, vivid and electric. the video. your fingers. the way your breath had caught in your throat when you hit upload. the warmth that still lingered between your thighs. the weight of what it meant.

“i’ll look into it,” you say, voice hoarse. “but i don’t know, nari… does it really even work?”

she crosses her arms gently, leaning her shoulder against the wall. her gaze softens as she watches you.

“i can’t really speak from experience,” she says slowly, “but from what i’ve heard… it’s definitely something you should consider. especially with how much you’ve been struggling. i know it’s not what you’re used to. i know it’s different. but y/n… it’s real money. quick money. and you wouldn’t have to break your back for it.”

her voice stays gentle, but her words hit hard. your shoulders drop slightly, and her eyes flick down to your expression, reading you the way only she can.

“just think about it, okay?” she continues, her tone still light. “i’m heading out in a bit, but whatever you decide, just let me know. i can look around for other stuff too, if you don’t want to go that route.”

your chest tightens again—this time from emotion.

you don’t say anything. you just step forward and wrap your arms around her, pulling her in tight. the words rise up in your throat before you can stop them.

“thank you so much, nari,” you whisper. “what the fuck would i have done without you…”

your voice cracks on the last word. you bury your face in her shoulder and hold her a little tighter, your body warm against hers.

you don’t thank her enough.

not for the rent reminders. not for the quiet way she pretends not to notice when you come home late and fall asleep in your work clothes. not for the soft leftovers she always leaves out with a sticky note. not for the way she never once judged you when you admitted you were coming up short again.

she just showed up. over and over.

and you couldn’t be more grateful.

“i’ll always be here for you, y/n,” she murmurs, her arms wrapping tighter around your waist.

when you finally pull back, there’s a single tear running down your cheek. you wipe it away quickly, hoping she doesn’t notice—but she does. she always does. she doesn’t say anything this time, just gives you a gentle look before stepping away.

you clear your throat, trying to shake the emotion from your voice.

“you can go ahead,” you tell her softly. “i… i just have something to check really quick.”

she nods, disappearing into her room.

you stand there for a moment, your feet unmoving, the silence returning like a blanket wrapped around your shoulders. you exhale through your nose and turn around slowly, walking back into your room and closing the door behind you.

your phone is still buzzing on the nightstand.

and you’re finally ready to see what it has to say.

you close the door behind you and pause for a moment, letting your fingers linger against the wood. your room is quiet again, but it’s not the same kind of quiet as before. it’s weighted now—thicker, charged with something unspoken. your steps back to the bed feel heavier than they should. your body isn’t sore in the traditional sense, but there’s something beneath your skin that hasn’t left you since last night. like your muscles remember what you did. like your skin is still humming from the heat of it.

you sit on the edge of your bed, your blanket half-pulled down, the air cool against your bare legs. your phone is where you left it—face down on your nightstand, completely still. the buzzing that had filled the room earlier has stopped, like it’s holding its breath. waiting for you to be ready.

you reach for it slowly, with both hands, like you’re afraid you’ll drop it if you don’t steady yourself. the moment your fingertips brush across the screen, it lights up.

and everything changes.

1,462 new notifications. tips: +$1,951.76. new subscribers: +863.

you sit there, frozen, as the likes roll in by the second, stacking in waves across the screen. every few seconds, another tip comes in. ten dollars. twenty. fifty. a hundred. your balance is growing so fast it doesn’t feel real.

you open the comments, and the words hit you all at once.

“this is art. actual art.” “i’m obsessed.” “i came without even touching myself. that’s how real this felt.”

you read them with wide eyes, your thumb scrolling slowly, like dragging through honey. it’s too much to take in all at once. too many voices. too many people who’ve seen you now—really seen you—and want more.

you click over to your inbox. there are dozens of messages, all timestamped from the early hours of the morning. most of them are praises, offers, begging. a few are bold. graphic. unfiltered. and buried among them—at the very top, a verified profile—is the one that makes your entire body still.

@heefreakshow.

you’re completely taken off guard.

nothing could have prepared you for this—none of it. not the flood of attention. not the numbers still rising. and especially not him. not the quiet, effortless way one of the creators you watched last night—half in awe, half with your hand buried between your thighs—has now turned his gaze on you. messaged you. noticed you.

you stare at the notification like it might disappear. like maybe your phone glitched and it’s not really him. your thumb hovers just inches above the message, heartbeat loud in your ears, the weight of everything that’s happened pressing down on your chest.

and then—before you can overthink it—you press.

the message expands across your screen in one clean, perfect line.

god, you were so fucking hot. why don’t you let me see what more you’re capable of doing?

you go still.

your throat tightens. your lips part, but no sound comes out. your entire body feels like it’s pulsing—heat rising from your neck, crawling down your spine, settling low in your stomach. your eyes read the words once. then again. then again.

you’re speechless.

not because it’s crude—though it is. not because it’s confident—because of course it is. but because it’s him.

you sit there, phone trembling slightly in your grip, and all you can think about is how none of this would’ve happened if nari hadn’t pushed you. if she hadn’t looked you in the eyes and told you she believed in you. if she hadn’t said the words you were too afraid to say out loud.

you owe her everything.

because now? now you’re more than okay. you’re not just surviving—you’re starting. you’re in it.

and you have absolutely no plans of stopping.

Smut Fluffy Dark_Content

navigation system: ON

◤HEADCANONS

↳NSFW ALPHABET.zip

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

◤FICS

no files found..

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

◤SCENARIOS

no files found....

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

◤ASKS

no files found..

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

SYS:// KAKA.exe

DATABASE VERSION 1.0

LAST UPDATE: AUGUST 2026

STATUS: OFFLINE

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Sunghoon let's out a breath he didn't even realize he was holding, he lifts you effortlessly and leads you to take a shower with him, while you dry yourself he gets a bottle of water to share with you. He is very quiet and simple but you can feel how much he cares about you and loves you, giving your face very soft pecks just to see you giggle. You fall asleep feeling him slowly breathing and holding you like you're made of glass.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His muscles obviously, he knows how crazy everybody gets for it, whenever you hold his arms or shoulders to balance yourself, he flexes his muscles so hard you feel it under your palms. His gaze is something he is confident about too, normally he looks at you with his big eyes, but in these moments, he looks at you with his narrowed eyes, really scanning your body and your reactions.

He likes your eyes, the way they can speak without saying any words, the way you look at him makes him so nervous. Since you guys started dating/hooking up, he got more and more confident, but stare at him to much and he gets red ears and a cute ass smile on his face.

(Look up at him while his cock is in your mouth and congratulations, you dismantled him)

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

I think he is very clean, if not wearing a condom he would just cum inside you, or in your mouth or on your belly so it gets easier to clean. I feel like he doesn't cum to much too, but don't underestimate it, it's thick white cum full of testosterone, if he cums on your thighs bitch, you're pregnant (even if you don't have an uterus ♡)

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Sunghoon is a old style man, possessive and would never share, but it makes him so hard to think about fucking you in the dorms and one of his members hearing you guys fuck, or seeing it, (not explicit tho. The faces you do and your body are just his to see) yet he lives for the idea of his friends knowing how well he fucks you, how good he can make you feel. The sounds of the bed hitting the wall, the way you moan his name, saying he's the best and you're about to cum again, ugh, it makes him so fucking cocky. (He would never do it actually, he's way too jealous)

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He is so mysterious, but if I get to say, I think he has had at least 4-5 partners. He's very charming, very manly, his quiet persona pulls people in.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Doggy and standing (he behind you or holding you up)

In doggy he definitely pins your arms behind you back, or holds then by the elbow with just one hand, using you as leverage to bury his cock deep inside you.

Standing is his biggest visual kink, he can hold you like you were made of paper, he either pins you on the wall so his chest holds you in place or holds you with just one arm, there's no way for you to escape ugh I'm exactly where i wanna be.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

I think he tries to be serious for you, but there's always something that makes you wanna laugh, making him giggle too (-10 aura for hoon).

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Sunghoon said himself that he is very hairy, but since you can't see hair in anyplace of him, armpits, happy trail, none, I do think he shaves it clean. (I want to lick him all over)

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Sex with him is very intense and sensual, all tho he doesn't show it too much, he's almost the whole time with his eyes closed, doesn't make that much of a noise, yet you can feel the heat coming out of him, the need for you, the way he grabs you, kisses you, you just know he loves you and want you as much as you want him. The hottest thing is when he calls your name.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

I don't believe he's a guy to do that a lot, probally like 1 time a week, he's very composed.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Let's put a limit of three and some explanation:

Breath play: I think Sunghoon is actually very vanilla, I can't see him as a hard dom, yet he has a very masculine trait that makes him want to posses you, he's quite jealous, and holding your pretty neck while you look at him with doe eyes make him almost want to go harder. He would do it just to show you that you are his and not to hurt you, give him 3 little taps and he's letting you neck go, kissing it to calm the skin down.

(Chokehold with his biceps? Who said that???)

Dacryphilia: same thing, he gets such a ego fuel seeing you crying because of him, only he can make you cry like that cause the sex is so good, saying his name like a mantra. He's not the type of man that dirty talks but once you're crying?

"Crying already? You must really like the way I fuck you."

"Shhh i got you, I'm almost done" (he's not)

Cleans your tears while going deeper for you to cry even more.

The next day when you ask why he's smiling so much you can bet he is thinking about your crying face

Mirror: he's a handsome man, he wants someone as good looking as him (and you are, love yah) so why not fuck in front of a mirror? He can see every reaction of you, you can look him in the eye, can see the way his muscles flex, can see the way his face softly frowns in pleasure when you can't normally see, can see the way he looks at your body, looking at the mess you made on his cock, and if you look away or close you eyes, you can be sure he stops all movements

"keep looking or you don't get to cum at all".

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Your house/his house/dorm.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

I think he is a simple man, show him that you want him, kiss him good, touch his body, wear short clothes, bite your lips at him and he gets hard to the point of not even with his hands in his pocket can hide it.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

The hurting you badly + extreme body fluids combo.

He may lose himself and choke you/slap you face/ass hard, but the moment he sees that maybe it's too much he is stopping and kissing you to apologize.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Guys, sadly I don't think he is big on giving, he would to it, enjoy it, he loves the way you taste and how you moan so cute for him, but he would prefer to end you on his dick instead, or finger you while you suck his cock.

That doesn't mean he is not good at it, he is actually very good, long licks on your clit/shaft, he actually doesn't use a lot of saliva so It creates a friction against you that hurts so good.

On the other end Sunghoon loves when you have his cock in your mouth, he even gets a little mean, fucking your throat, loving the way your eyes water and the gag sounds you make. He definitely makes fun of you for being so messy and slaps his d on your cheeks.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Hard and not that fast, but not slow, more inclined to fast you get me?

Long strokes tho, almost sliding out just to push deep inside again.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Nahh, just like Jay, if he's horny, he is just gonna wait till he gets home, If you are, he's gonna finger you and that's it. (The little devil is not even gonna let you cum, to make you learn to not be a little slut for him in public )

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Sunghoon is not a freak, he's actually very vanilla, so i don't think he would engage with risky things, but once you get home be prepared, he's gonna split you open.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Gym boi has a bull stamina, would go for so long, but probably drags 1 round for 2 hours, he can last very long.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Nah, he thinks like an uncle, way to modern for him.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

I think he is a little shit and teases you so much, he already has a big ego, but seeing you begging, wanting him fuels it much more. Will laugh at you and pretend he is not even listening to you.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

I imagine he is very quiet, most of the time he just breaths heavily, hums a little in the back of his throat, and moans with his lips shut into a line. When he cums tho he let's a delicious groan out.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

You guys were relaxing in the living room, most of the time you spend with Sunghoon, a very comfortable silence sits with you guys. You are sitting in his lap cuddling, your back against his chest while his arms circle your waist. His breath is minty and hot behind you.

You start to shift and move to get more snugly, feeling him getting hard in the process. You look back at him with a teasing smile on your face

"Is it that easy to make you want me? You must really like me."

You tease him, while he subtly smirks.

"Let's see about that."

You don't even get to process when he pulls you by the neck, pressing you more on his chest, lowering his sweatpants and fliping your skirt up, sliding you panties to the side, entering you slowly since he's so big.

Once you get used to his size and starts to whine for him to move, he lifts and drop you on his lap, holding you by the neck with his big hand and by the waist with his forearm, as if you were just a doll, weighting nothing. His lips leaves bites on your shoulders as he uses the strength he has been working out for to fuck you in his cock.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Here is my strongest belief. SungHUNG.

Guys i have a feeling he's at least 18cm, cock as pale as him, blue thick veins decorating his shaft, pink tip, smells so good please Sunghoon just a lick please.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

I don't think it's that high, maybe know with him working out, pumping testosterone, he can go 2-3 times a week

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Almost immediately after you guys clean up and lay down, he soft snores with you on his chest, strong arm holding you next to him.

》 END OF FILE■□□□

Guys this one was so difficult omg, Sunghung, I mean Sunghoon is so hard to read oh my lord. He's so hot so mysterious yas fuck me.

Thank you guys so much for the likes, I'm already thinking about other things I'm gonna write since I'm done with this ones, so if you wanna suggest something, feel free to let me know! Love yah!

It was an unwritten rule that where Riki was, you were never more than an arm’s length away.

It wasn’t something either of you had ever explicitly planned, it was just the natural gravity of years spent growing up in each other's space.

By now, the boundaries between your lives were so blurred that nobody around you even bothered to treat you as two entirely separate entities.

You knew the exact weight of his head when he fell asleep against your shoulder on late night subway rides home. He knew precisely how you took your coffee, automatically grabbing two sugars and a splash of oat milk before you even reached the counter.

Even today was no exception, the easy silence between you holding the kind of familiarity that only comes from a lifetime of shared moments.

You were stretched out on the couch, wrapped in one of Riki’s oversized hoodies that had been sitting in your closet for so long it was basically yours now. Riki was on the floor right beside you, back propped against the base of the sofa, lazily scrolling through his phone.

Without looking up, he reached a hand onto the coffee table, snagged your iced tea, and took a sip before setting it down by his knee.

"Hey," you said, tossing a pillow softly at his head. "That’s mine."

"You weren't drinking it," he replied, not bothering to apologize as he caught the pillow and tucked it behind his back.

He leaned his head back against the edge of the couch, resting it right near your knee. He looked up at you upside down, a faint, familiar smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Jay and Jake said they're heading over in a bit," he said, tapping his screen. "Told them we were just chilling, so they're bringing food."

"Did you tell them to get the good chicken place?"

"Obviously. I'm not an amateur." Riki stretched his long legs out across the rug, shifting a little closer to rest his shoulder against your calf. "Jay said they'd be here in twenty minutes, so enjoy the peace while it lasts."

"Tragic," you murmured, nudging his shoulder with your toe. "We should've locked the door and pretended we weren't home."

"Thought about it," he grumbled, though there was zero heat behind it.

For the next fifteen minutes, it was just the two of you in your element—stealing bites of snacks, tossing inside jokes back and forth, and enjoying the warmth before the apartment got flooded with noise.

When the familiar, loud footsteps finally bounded up the stairwell followed by a heavy knock on the door, Riki let out a dramatically long sigh, but a soft smile flickered across his face as he pushed himself up from the floor to let the guys in.

The front door didn't just open—it flew wide with the usual whirlwind energy Jay and Jake brought everywhere they went. Jay had two large brown paper bags of chicken slung over his arm, while Jake was already kicking off his sneakers at the door, dropping his keys onto the entryway table with a clatter.

"Smells like home!" Jake announced, striding into the living room and immediately dropping his arm over your shoulder to pull you into a quick, side-hug. "Hey, y/n. Riki treating you okay or do I need to take him out?"

"He’s stealing my drinks, but otherwise surviving," you said laughing.

Jay set the heavy takeout bags down on the kitchen counter first before walking over, giving you a quick, warm hug of his own.

"Don't listen to her," Riki grumbled from the kitchen, casually setting a stack of plates and napkins onto the counter. "I'm the victim here."

"Yeah, yeah, victim of your own laziness," Jay teased, grabbing a cup from the cabinet before heading over to flop onto the middle of the couch.

Within five minutes, the quiet living room was completely transformed. The TV was turned on to some random reality show no one was actually watching, the volume low enough to just serve as background noise while everyone dug into the chicken. Jake sprawled on the rug, leaning back against the front of the sofa, while Jay claimed the cushion on the far end.

You dropped back down into your spot on the floor, resting your back against the sofa. A second later, Riki sat down right beside you, handing you an already opened soda before setting a plate of extra sauce between the two of you to share.

For the next half hour, the room was full of easy, loud chatter. You talked about Riki’s disastrous driving test, Jay’s new gym obsession, and a terrible movie you had all seen in theaters months ago. Everyone was laughing, passing food around, and completely relaxed. l

As the food disappeared, Riki leaned back, reaching behind him to grab a blanket that was folded over the arm of the couch. He unrolled it and tossed half of it over your lap before covering his own legs.

Jake, who was in the middle of taking a sip of his drink, paused. His eyes darted from the blanket to Riki, who was currently opening the small side drawer of your coffee table to pull out his phone charger that he kept stored in there.

Jay caught Jake's eye across the table. A tiny, knowing smirk spread across Jay’s face, and Jake lowered his soda, shaking his head with a quiet snort.

"Okay, wait," Jake said, leaning his elbows on his knees as he looked between the two of you. "I need to ask a genuine question."

"If it's about the last piece of chicken, Jay ate it," Riki said, not looking up as he plugged his phone into the wall.

"No, not about the chicken," Jake laughed. He gestured vaguely around the living room. "I’m looking at your clothes on her couch. I’m looking at your phone charger in her drawer. I’m pretty sure your favorite cereal is in her pantry, bro. You pay rent for an apartment three blocks away, but you literally live here."

Jay leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand with a grin. "Honestly. At this point, you two might as well just drop the act and admit you're a couple. It would save everyone a lot of confusion."

Jake nodded in agreement, tossing a napkin at Riki. "Seriously. You guys are basically an old married couple already. Just make it official."

Jake’s comment hung in the air for a second, greeted by Jay’s amused nod as he took another bite of chicken.

You shoved a fry into your mouth, shaking your head before the words even fully registered. "Goodness, no," you scoffed, rolling your eyes with a light laugh. "Don't start with that. We’d kill each other in a week."

Jake threw his head back, laughing out loud. "Hey, I'm just stating facts. The evidence is literally everywhere!"

"Ignore them," Jay joined in, grinning. "They’re in denial."

The joke easily dissolved into the background noise of the room, with Jake and Jay moving on to argue about whatever was playing on the TV a few seconds later. You reached down to grab your soda, chuckling to yourself at how ridiculous they were being.

Beside you, though, Riki hadn't said a word.

He didn't laugh along with the guys, nor did he toss out his usual sarcastic comeback. He just sat there, his fingers lightly gripping his soda can, staring ahead at the screen. His shoulders had stiffened just a fraction, the easy, relaxed posture he’d had all evening suddenly gone.

You glanced over at him, expecting him to be rolling his eyes too, but his mouth was set in a tight, flat line.

"Riki?" you murmured, low enough so only he could hear over Jake and Jay shouting at the TV.

He didn't look at you right away. When he finally turned his head, his eyes were heavy, searching your face with an intense, unreadable expression that made your stomach do a strange, unexpected flip.

"What?" he asked, his voice quiet, devoid of any warmth or humor.

"Nothing... you good?"

"Fine," he said dryly, turning his gaze back toward the TV.

For the rest of the night, the vibe shifted—or at least, it did for Riki. While Jake and Jay kept up the loud banter, Riki became unusually quiet.

He still sat next to you on the floor, but the casual, effortless warmth was replaced by a heavy, prickly silence. When your knees brushed, he didn't lean into it like usual, he just held still, his jaw subtly clenching whenever you spoke or laughed with the other two.

It left a strange, lingering tension in the air—one that only you seemed to notice, leaving you wondering what on earth had just set him off.

The apartment finally began to quiet down around midnight. Jake stretched his arms over his head with a loud yawn, while Jay started gathering the empty takeout boxes and crumpled napkins off the coffee table, tossing them into the trash.

"Alright, I'm heading out," Jay said, slinging his jacket over his shoulder. "Got an early morning tomorrow."

"Yeah, same here," Jake added, grabbing his keys off the entryway table. He flashed a quick grin over his shoulder. "Thanks for letting us crash, y/nnie. See ya later, Riki."

"Yeah, see you guys," you replied, standing up to walk them to the door.

Riki stayed sitting on the floor, barely giving a low nod toward the door as they left. As soon as the front door clicked shut, the sudden silence in the apartment felt heavy—almost suffocating compared to the noise from earlier.

You turned back toward the living room, setting a few glasses down on the counter. "Okay, what is going on with you?" you asked, leaning your back against the edge of the kitchen counter. "You've been acting weird ever since Jay and Jake were here."

"I'm not acting like anything," he said, his voice flat. He was still sitting on the floor, staring down at his phone, but he wasn't actually scrolling.

"Riki, come on. You literally sat there like a statue for the last hour," you said, crossing your arms. You tried for a light, teasing tone to break the ice. "Did someone steal your favorite piece of chicken or something? You look like you're about to fight the wall."

He finally locked his phone screen with an aggressive click and set it down on the rug. "Just drop it."

"No, I’m not gonna drop it," you pushed softly, taking a step toward the living room. "We were having a good night, and then out of nowhere you flipped a switch. Did we do something to annoy you, just tell me."

Riki let out a low, bitter laugh—the kind that didn't have any real humor in it. He tilted his head back against the sofa, looking up at you with narrowed eyes.

"Goodness, no."

The sharp, mocking bite in his tone caught you off guard. You blinked. "What?"

"That's what you said," he quoted, his voice dropping into a low, quiet imitation of your voice from earlier. "Goodness, no. Like the thought of us being together is the most ridiculous, embarrassing thing you could ever imagine."

The confusion on your face shifted into a light scoff as you shook your head, still trying to defuse the sudden wave of anger radiating off him.

"Omg, knock it off!" you said, tossing your hands up. "It isn't that deep, Riki! Jay and Jake were making a dumb joke like they always do. I gave a dumb answer so they'd stop teasing us. It was a joke."

"Well, it wasn't a joke to me," he snapped.

He stood up from the floor. His tall frame suddenly towered over you, erasing the distance between you two until he was standing just a foot away, the shadowy, tense atmosphere of the quiet apartment settling heavy between you.

The sudden intensity in his voice made your laughter die in your throat. He wasn't playing along. He was dead serious.

"Riki—"

He took a slow step closer, looking down at you. All the defensive anger in his posture seemed to drain away, leaving behind something far more vulnerable.

"It sucked hearing you laugh it off like that," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck as his eyes searched yours. "Because... I actually have thought about it. A lot. So when you said 'goodness, no' like it was the worst idea in the world... yeah. It hit wrong."

The silence in the room stretched out, thick and heavy.

Oh.

Riki stayed standing there for a long moment, his dark eyes searching your face for any kind of answer as the silence between you stretched thin. But when you didn't immediately speak, he let out a low, heavy breath, rubbing the back of his neck as his gaze dropped to the floor.

He took your stunned silence as a quiet rejection.

"Forget it," he muttered, his voice dropping into a flat, distant tone. He stepped back, turning toward the living room table to grab his phone and keys with quick, stiff movements. "This was a mistake. I’m just gonna head back to my place."

You stood frozen in the middle of the room, your brain scrambling to catch up. You watched him walk over to the entryway chair, snatching his denim jacket off the back of it and shoving one arm through the sleeve. The sudden, looming reality of him actually leaving made a sharp knot form in your chest.

It wasn't until his hand reached out and touched the cool metal of the front door handle that your body finally moved on pure instinct.

"Riki, wait—"

You closed the distance between you in two strides, reaching out and catching him firmly by the wrist before he could turn the knob.

"Just wait, okay?" you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

You kept your gaze glued strictly to the floor, completely avoiding his eyes as your fingers remained wrapped around his wrist. You gently pulled him away from the front door, steering him back toward the living room. Riki didn't resist, though his arm was tense beneath your touch.

You both sat down on the sofa, leaving a quiet, heavy foot of space between you. Neither of you looked at the other—Riki was staring fixatedly at his own hands resting on his knees, his jaw clenched, while you stared down at the pattern of the rug beneath your feet.

Your head was spinning. The realization settled deep in your chest, a strange mix of absolute shock and a sudden, quiet relief.

You had buried your own feelings for him so deeply for so long—convinced that ruining a years long friendship wasn't worth the risk—that having it all laid out in the open like this felt completely surreal. It was everything you wanted, but processing the sudden shift from best friends to this in a matter of minutes was overwhelming.

Beside you, Riki shifted restlessly. The heavy silence was clearly wearing through his remaining patience.

"So are we just—" he started, turning his head toward you, his voice tight.

"I'm sorry," you cut in quickly, finally turning to face him.

He blinked, catching the genuine softness in your tone.

"I'm sorry," you repeated, your fingers nervously pulling at the hem of his hoodie. "I only said that because... I never thought you felt the same way. It was just an automatic response. It was awkward, the guys were teasing, and I just panicked and said the first thing I could think of to deflect it."

Riki watched you silently as you spoke, the sharp edge in his posture finally melting away. He let out a low, slow breath, rubbing his hand over his face.

"I get it," he said softly, looking back up at you. "I do. Still sucked to hear."

"I know," you whispered. "I'm sorry."

The heavy air between you cleared, leaving behind a raw, magnetic tension that was impossible to ignore. Riki reached out, his long fingers carefully brushing against the side of your face, his thumb softly tracing the line of your jaw. His skin was warm, his dark eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your heart hammer against your ribs.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked, his voice dropping into a low, quiet murmur.

You froze, your breath catching in your throat as you stared at him. For a second, the whole room went completely silent. You looked at the soft curve of his lips, then back up to his eyes—dark, intense, and waiting.

"Yes," you breathed out.

He didn't hesitate. Riki leaned in, closing the small gap between you, his lips pressing against yours in a kiss that was warm, deep, and long overdue. Any lingering hesitation melted instantly. The familiar best friend boundary shattered, replaced by a sudden, surging heat that caught both of you off guard.

You shifted closer, your knee bumping against his leg on the cushion before you awkwardly swung one leg over his lap to straddle him. Riki let out a low, heavy breath against your mouth, his hands instantly coming up to grip your waist, helping pull your hips flush against his.

The kiss deepened, turning messy and breathless. You tangled your fingers into the soft hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer as your other hand slid down the side of his neck to the chest of his shirt.

Riki’s hands roamed over your body with a desperate, possessive grip—sliding down from your waist to firmly cup and squeeze your ass, pulling you down into his lap as you began to slowly grind against him.

A quiet gasp escaped your throat as Riki broke the kiss, trailing hot, wet presses down your jawline and burying his face into the crook of your neck. His breath hit your sensitive skin in ragged, heavy hitches, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave marks as he held you tightly against him.

Riki’s mouth stayed buried against your neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin just below your ear as he dragged a slow, deliberate bite that made your hips stutter against him. His hands tightened on your ass, pulling you down harder so you could feel exactly how hard he already was beneath you.

“Goodness, no,” he murmured against your neck, the words low and rough, almost a laugh. “Seriously?”

You tried to answer, but the only sound that came out was a shaky breath when he rolled his hips up into yours.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes dark and still a little sharp with leftover hurt. “That’s what you said. Like the idea of this—” he squeezed your ass again, guiding another slow grind, “—was the dumbest thing you’d ever heard.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“I know.” His voice softened, but the teasing edge stayed. “Still gonna make you take it back.”

He kissed you again, deeper this time, tongue sliding against yours while one hand slipped under the hem of your hoodie. Warm fingers skimmed up your bare side, over your ribs, until he found the soft underside of your breast. He cupped you through the thin fabric of your bra, thumb brushing lazily across your nipple until it peaked under his touch.

You arched into his hand with a quiet sound. Riki smiled against your mouth.

He shifted beneath you, then suddenly lifted, turning so your back hit the couch cushions. Your hoodie rode up as he settled between your thighs. He tugged the fabric higher, exposing the soft skin of your stomach. You lifted just enough for him to pull it off completely and toss it aside.

His eyes dragged over you, lingering on the way your chest rose and fell. Then he leaned down and pressed an open mouthed kiss right above the waistband of your shorts.

“Been thinking about this for a long time,” he admitted, voice rough. “Every time you wore my clothes. Every time you stole my drinks. Every time you sat this close and acted like it meant nothing.”

His fingers hooked into the sides of your shorts and underwear together. You lifted your hips, and he dragged both pieces down your legs in one slow pull, dropping them onto the floor. The cool air of the apartment kissed your bare skin for only a second before Riki’s hands were back, spreading your thighs wider.

One thumb stroked slowly along your inner thigh, higher, until it brushed through the already slick folds between your legs. You jerked at the contact. He hummed, almost pleased.

“You’re so wet already,” he murmured. “After acting like you never wanted this.”

You opened your mouth to protest again, but the words dissolved into a sharp inhale when he leaned in and dragged the flat of his tongue up through you in one long, deliberate stroke. Your head tipped back against the cushion. “oh fuck—”

Riki made a low, satisfied sound and did it again, slower this time, savoring.

He took his time. Long, thorough licks that started low and ended with a soft suck on your clit. Two fingers slid into you easily, curling just right while his mouth stayed focused higher, tongue working in tight circles that made your thighs tremble around his head.

“Mmm, Riki—” His name slipped out on a whimper as your hips tried to lift. He pinned them down with one forearm, keeping you exactly where he wanted you.

He hummed against you, the vibration shooting straight up your spine. Your fingers twisted tighter in his hair.

His fingers worked deeper, stroking that spot inside that made your breath hitch into short, desperate gasps—soft mmphs and half swallowed curses.

“ah—ki, feels so good” Your voice cracked. Legs shaking harder now. “right there—”

Riki felt the way you clenched around his fingers, the desperate little flutter of your hips even with his forearm pinning you down. He slowed, then stopped completely, pulling back just enough that the cool air hit your oversensitive skin.

You made a sharp, frustrated sound at the sudden loss.

He looked up at you, lips shiny, breathing hard. One hand stayed spread low on your stomach, feeling the way you were still pulsing under his palm.

“Not yet,” he said quietly, almost gentle. “Wanna feel you come on my dick first.”

He pushed up from the couch and stood, shoving his pants and boxers down in one rough motion. His cock sprang free, thick and flushed, already leaking at the tip. He wrapped a hand around himself once, stroking slowly while he looked at you still spread out beneath him.

Then he reached for you.

Hands on your hips, he turned you carefully, guiding you until your upper body was draped over the back of the couch,the position left you open and exposed.

Riki stayed standing right behind you, his hands gripping your hips firmly from above as he positioned himself.

You felt the blunt head of him nudge against your entrance. He didn’t push in yet, just dragged the tip up and down through your wetness, teasing until you pushed back against him.

Riki let out a low sound and sank into you in one slow, deep thrust, filling you completely. The stretch made your mouth fall open on a quiet moan. He held you tightly by the waist as he started moving from behind, driving into you with deep, steady strokes that rocked you forward against the cushions.

One of his hands slid around to cup your breast, thumb brushing your nipple in time with every thrust, while the other kept a vice grip on your hip, keeping you locked to his pace.

The wet sound of him moving in and out of you filled the quiet apartment, mixed with the soft, broken noises you couldn’t hold back.

“Fuck, you feel good,” he groaned from above, his voice rough.

He kept the pace controlled at first, like he was still proving a point. Every time you tried to push back harder to speed him up, he slowed his thrusts just enough to leave you hanging, drawing a desperate whimper out of you.

“Ki, p-please,” you gasped out, your knuckles white as you gripped the couch cushion. “Stop teasing.”

He leaned down over your back, his breath hot against the shell of your ear as his fingers dug possessively into your hip.

"Hold still," he murmured, his voice low, gravelly, and completely smug.

You could only shake your head, already too far gone to form words.

Eventually he pulled out, turning you again so your back was flat against the couch cushions. He settled over you this time, one hand bracing beside your head, the other guiding himself back between your legs. When he pushed in again, the angle was deeper. His hips rolled against yours in a steady, grinding rhythm.

You wrapped your legs around his waist. He leaned down kissing you messy and open mouthed while he fucked you, the teasing edge still there in the way he occasionally pulled almost all the way out just to watch your face when he sank back in.

The rhythm grew harder, more urgent. His eyes locked on your face as he drove into you again and again. One of his hands slipped between your bodies, fingers finding your clit and rubbing tight, perfect circles that pushed you right to the edge.

“Riki, I’m—fuck, I’m close,” you brokenly gasped out, your fingers digging into his shoulder as your hips met his.

“Let go,” he murmured against your ear, his voice low, and completely ruined. “I got you.”

You broke with a soft, broken cry, clenching hard around him. Riki followed a few thrusts later, burying himself deep as he came with a low, raspy sound against your neck, hips stuttering through the last waves.

For a long moment neither of you moved. Just breathing, skin damp, hearts racing together in the quiet space.

Riki eventually shifted, rolling back onto his shoulders and taking you with him. His hands wrapped tightly around your waist as he pulled you up on top of him. You collapsed against his chest, your cheek resting right over his racing heart while your legs tangled with his on the couch.

His hand slid up your back, thumb brushing light, soothing circles against your bare skin.

“…Still think we’d kill each other in a week?” he asked, quieter now, almost smiling.

You let out a soft, breathless laugh and shook your head.

he clicked his tongue, clearly amused.

what he did after, he waved his hand at you with a smirk tugging at his luscious lips and later, he entered his apartment. your eyes widened, flustered from the act.

“cute.”

it was shameless of you to gawk at someone you find attractive, after that embarrassing interaction you’ve had with the guy—you tried your best to ignore him when he called out for you. he was having fun teasing you, yet he was getting impatient as he wants to know more about his pretty neighbor.

sunghoon never stop his plans.

the first thing he do every morning before he go to his work place is to stop by at your apartment and bring you breakfast with a letter “morning pretty, i made you breakfast so don’t starve yourself. :)”

he also buy flowers for you, lilies, your favorite.

you never find it disturbing.

rather, it made your heart flutter. the flowers he gave you, you will put them in the vase. you always made sure to take care of them just like how he tells you to do.

whether he is doing this as a friend, you couldn’t care less as long as you’re happy at the moment. with him.

however, the most unexpected and shocking truth you witnessed from sunghoon was he’s jerking off while his curtains are wide open where anyone could watch shamelessly.

he’s like those men in porn.

you wonder who was he thinking about while touching himself. you felt jealous from that person. you wished it was you.

“what the fuck is wrong with me?” you mentally hit yourself, still watching him there—breathless and hands still playing with his cock.

he has a horse cock and prominent veins.

on top of that, the tip is reddish, swollen and leaking with too much pre-cum.

you instinctively pressed your thighs together, to ease the discomfort. your gaze met his, staring right at your flabbergasted ones.

he caught you.

your hands were quick to close the blinds, as your back slides against the wall, ashamed. will he confront me? is he going to report me? shit.

a yelped escaped your mouth, as your phone on the side table is ringing continuously. you saw his name, park sunghoon. your neighbor who caught you shamelessly watching him jerked off. fuck, i’m dead.

a bunch of messages from him.

park (hot neighbor) :

join me? or are you just going to watch me jerk off while thinking about your pretty mouth sucking me off?

your pussy throbs at that. so without hesitation, you rushed towards his place, knocking aggressively. when he opens the door, his annoying grin appeared.

“impatient, aren’t we? come in, princess.”

once you’re inside, a click came from behind, as he pushed you against the wall—kissing you with need, it’s one of his desire to have his mouth on you.

you moaned, trying to pull away from the intense and passionate kiss. “wait…”

you’re out of breath.

“why? didn’t expect me to be a good kisser, or—“ sunghoons’ hand slides lower, until he cupped your wetness through your lil shorts. “oh…? you’re soaked through, princess. so adorable.”

he chuckled, hands still settled between your thighs. he couldn’t wait any longer, sunghoon told you to jump and carried you in the living room, where he throw your body on the sofa.

you pulled his face, wanting to taste him better this time. there’s a hint of mint and strawberry flavor as you sucked on his tongue. he groaned at that, his hand pulled your legs apart as he kept on grinding his boner. you feel turned on, your cunt releases with more slick.

“fuck, tell me to stop right now, princess.” his voice muffled, while his mouth is attacking your neck with hickeys.

you shook your head, no. “i don’t want you to stop, please.”

so he didn’t stop.

sunghoon tugged your shorts lower, followed by your soaked undies that he instantly crumpled and slipped it into his pocket. you saw it, but didn’t say anything.

he slapped his cock on your wet folds, making squelching sounds. your cunt kept fluttering from the teasing. you just wanted for him to slip it in already and ruin you.

“look at your cunny, princess. it’s pulsating, you love being toyed like this, hm? you want my cock so bad, yeah? come on, tell hoonie.” he taunted.

you whimpered, frustrated.

“i want it so bad, hoonie. i want your big cock to destroy my pussy, god, please—“

the sudden stretch made you cry, scratching his back at the same time. sunghoon hissed, not because of the nails digging on his back, but because of your walls squeezing him in.

“this is what you wanted, right?”

you only nod your head, as the pain subsided. you look broken already and he hasn’t started yet.

“shit—you’re tight as fuck, princess.”

then, he lifted your other leg, pressing it up against your chest. his cock is so deep in your stomach and sunghoon saw how his length bulges through your belly.

he bit his lip, he wants to hold back all his strength not to drive his cock into you.

“fuck me already, hoonie…”

“please…? pleasepleaseplease.”

your whines gave him an adrenaline rush, and he felt his cock throbbing inside you—he didn’t even expect it could be worser than that.

“oh… i definitely will.”

he pulled out his shaft, before slamming it all the way deeper in your cervix. you gasped loudly, as his tip persistently hits the right spot. “right there—nghh—“

sunghoon grunted with a grin carved into his mouth. “right here…?” he asked, as he switched his angle which made your eyes rolled back, vision blurry. he also flattened his hand on your crotch, fingers working on your neglected clit—rolling, rubbing and pinching it.

your legs are shaking uncontrollably.

“i’m gonna come—hoonie—yesyesyes!” you frantically chanted, desperate to come on his cock. “yeah? come on my cock, princess. make it rain.” as he said that, you squirted—some of your liquids spattered on his face. he even tried to catch a drop by sticking out his tongue like a madman.

after getting a taste, his thrust became more feral. the only thing that’s been running through his head: breed her, breed her. fuck, he’d do it over and over until you’re swollen and carrying his babies.

“mhm—i’m coming,” he buried his face on to your neck, and he made sure to pushed his cock deeper into you. plap. plap. plaaap. he let out a deep groan, still bottoming out when he felt his cock getting bigger. a spurt of cum came out of the tip, before pulling out of you. “take it, princess. shit—jesus fuck—s’good.”

you slowly sat up on the couch, grabbing his cock on both of your hands, leaning in so you could lick the head. you moaned at the taste, before you took the entire thing on your mouth—tongue gliding on the base and you made sure to play with his balls. sunghoon placed a hand on the back of your head, pulling you closer to his length and gradually thrusts in your warm cavern.

“you’re doing good, princess.” he praised.

he tipped his head back, groaning. he’s about to come again. so you didn’t halt your movements by sucking harshly on his shaft. you got wet from sucking him off, and he noticed. sunghoon chuckled, leaning over to slide three digits on your needy cunt. ramming it relentlessly to help you come with him at the same time.

“swallow every drop, baby girl.” sunghoon grab your cheeks, tilting your head and watching your throat moves. “good girl.” when you came on his fingers, he stared straight into your eyes before sucking the three digits that was in your hole a while ago. “deliciosa.” your face heats up, embarrassed.

as the night ended, you still have no idea that park sunghoon was the one who has been watching your every move. he made sure that no one will know his dirty little secret—the stolen pictures of you while you’re cleaning your apartment, doing your laundry while wearing your little shorts that he almost could see your fat swollen lips peeking out when you bent down. and lastly, whenever you take a peek at your window to see if your neighbor is there, without knowing he has always been there—hiding and watching you.