Shiberry

No photos. No bullet points about ‘respectful boundaries’ or ‘shared Netflix password.’ Just that blunt, cocky little block of text, like they knew exactly what kind of person would bite anyway. The rent figure was unreal, half what you'd been paying for your shoebox studio that smelled faintly of regret and yesterday's takeout. You stared at it for a full minute, thumb hovering over your phone screen, heart doing that stupid flutter thing it does when you're about to make a decision that's either genius or catastrophic.  

And then there was the line written in red pen, scrawled untidily, looking like a disastrous attempt at cursive.

“She better be hot lol”

Crossed out once, aggressively. Then underlined twice, like whoever wrote it had second thoughts about the shame and decided to recommit. You stared at that part the longest.

Your current apartment smelled like damp carpet and stale air no matter how many candles you burned. The windows rattled every time the train passed. Your landlord had the audacity to send out a mass email about a “maintenance fee adjustment” that was definitely just code for I bought a new car and you’re helping pay for it.

Rent had started to feel like a chokehold. And this, four guys, one girl, big downtown apartment, utilities split five ways, was a stupidly good number. Too good. Which should have been your first red flag. 

Your reflection in the lobby mirror looked tired. A little reckless. The kind of girl who was one bad decision away from either ruining her life or improving it dramatically. You took a picture of the flyer. You hesitated.

You zoomed in on the red scribble. You told yourself you were an adult. That you could handle four random men in a shared space. That this was just housing, not a horror movie opening scene.  Then you texted the number before your common sense could wrestle your thumbs away.

You: Hi, saw the flyer for the roommate spot. Still available? Interested if the details match up. What's the move-in date?

The three dots appeared almost instantly. Then disappeared. Then appeared again. Your stomach did that awful, fluttery dip it does before you step into something you can’t undo.

Unknown: yeah it's open. u got a name sweetheart?

Sweetheart. You actually rolled your eyes. You told yourself you rolled your eyes. But something warm slid low in your stomach anyway. Casual ownership. Teasing. A test.

You: Y/N. And yeah, I do. When can I come see it?

The typing bubbles came back. Stayed. Disappeared. Came back again. Then your phone vibrated with a voice note instead of text. You stared at it for a full second.

Who the fuck sends voice notes to strangers?

You slipped in one earbud like you were about to overhear something you weren’t meant to. You hit play. Chaos. Not the polite kind. Not the muffled, distant kind. The kind that sounds like bodies moving and furniture scraping and too many voices in one space.

“—told you the flyer was too obvious, dumbass—”

“Shut the fuck up, she texted, didn’t she?”

“Bet she’s mid. Fifty says she’s mid.”

“Fifty says she’s a freak who’ll cry after one night.”

Explosive laughter. Low and rough and layered. Someone swore. There was a thud like someone got shoved into a couch. Another voice yelling, “Give me the phone—”

Your pulse was in your throat. It felt intrusive. Intimate. Like you were already inside their space, hearing something raw and unfiltered. Then the chaos snapped. Cut clean. A different presence took over. Closer to the mic. Lower.

“...Y/N, right?” Your name sounded slower in his mouth. Like he’d rolled it around once before saying it.

“This is Heeseung.”

The way he said it wasn’t introduction. It was declaration. The background noise dimmed, not because the room got quieter, but because he stepped away from it. You could picture it without trying: him turning his back to the others, leaning against something, one hand braced on a counter, phone lifted close enough that his breath ghosted the mic.

The kind of voice that didn’t rush. The kind that didn’t need to. “Place is still open. Come by tomorrow. 7 p.m. sharp. We’ll be here.”

We’ll be here. Not I’ll be here. A collective. A warning. There was a beat of silence. Not awkward. Deliberate. “Bring your shit if you like what you see. We don’t do second viewings.”

And then it ended. No goodbye. No emoji. No softening. Just the click of the recording stopping, leaving his voice hanging in your ear like smoke in a closed room. You sat on your sagging futon with the cheap springs poking through the cushion and replayed it. Twice.

The arguing in the background. The laughter. The careless comments. The way he had cut through all of it like a knife sliding into silk. You told yourself they sounded like idiots. You told yourself this was exactly the kind of environment you’d sworn you’d never put yourself in. But your thighs pressed together anyway, tension curling low and restless, not quite fear and not quite excitement.

You imagined the apartment. Exposed brick. Too much space. Music playing too loud. A kitchen that actually had room to breathe in. Four men who moved through it like they owned it. And one empty room.

Waiting. You should have blocked the number. Should have deleted the thread. Should have found a nice, quiet girls-only share in the suburbs where the biggest drama would be someone stealing your almond milk. Instead, you typed back.

You: 7 p.m. tomorrow. Address?

The reply came faster this time.

Heeseung: [pinned location]Don’t be late, sweetheart. We hate waiting.

You read that last line more than once. We hate waiting. It sounded less like a preference and more like a rule. You packed that night with a strange kind of calm. One duffel bag. Just enough clothes to rotate for a few days. Toiletries. Charger. The essentials. You folded each item slowly, like you were preparing for something bigger than just a new address.

Your studio looked even smaller with your things missing. The walls felt closer. The air heavier. You stood in the middle of it and imagined tomorrow. The elevator ride up. The door opening. Four sets of eyes. The apartment smelling like expensive cologne and something darker. Smoke, maybe. Leather. Ego.

You imagined him. Them. All four of them. Either unfairly good-looking men who were complete assholes, or unimpressive men who were still complete assholes. The asshole part was a constant. The hotness was the only variable.

Not that it mattered. Of course it didn’t.

You didn’t know his face, but you knew the voice. Low. Steady. Amused. The kind of voice that didn’t rush for anyone.

You imagined the smirk you’d heard through the speaker, lazy, confident, practiced. Probably rich, too. Not new-money loud, but old-money careless. Daddy’s money had a look. It looked like never checking price tags.

You zipped the duffel closed. This was reckless. Stupid, even. The kind of decision that looked sensible only from far away, like a bruise that passed for lavender in low light. Rent had been pressing in for months, a dull gray weight at the base of your skull, constant as weather. You told yourself that was all this was. Survival. Logistics. Math.

But that wasn’t the whole truth. There was something about his voice. Not the depth of it, not even the amusement. It was the contrast, the velvet laid carefully over something serrated. Chaos humming behind glass. Control presented like a gift.

It had sounded dark blue through the speaker. Not navy. Not midnight. Something electric and expensive. The kind of blue that didn’t apologize for swallowing light. You should have been afraid of it.

Maybe you were. But the risk didn’t feel like falling. Falling was abrupt. Colorless. Final. This felt different. It felt like stepping across the gold line in a painting, the one the artist never meant anyone to cross. Like touching wet paint just to see if it would stain. Like walking into a story that had already decided what to do with you.

7 p.m. Sharp. You arrive at 6:58 p.m.

Not because you’re punctual by nature, but because something about Don’t be late. We hate waiting. lodged under your skin and stayed there all day.

The building is taller than you expected. Glass-fronted. Industrial. The kind of place that tries to look effortless and ends up looking expensive instead. The lobby smells faintly of artificially scented cleaner, probably lemon, and polished concrete. Exposed brick climbs one wall in a deliberate, curated way that says urban charm instead of structural compromise.

You stand in front of the elevator with your duffel bag hooked over one shoulder and a medium-sized suitcase at your side. You told yourself you’d bring only what you needed for a week.

You lied.

The elevator doors slide open with a soft metallic sigh. You step inside. Your reflection in the mirrored walls looks smaller than you feel. Lip gloss reapplied in the car. Hair brushed back into place. A quiet, deliberate choice in your outfit, effortless enough to pretend you didn’t try, fitted enough to know you did.

The numbers climb. Your pulse climbs with them. You tell yourself this is housing. Just housing. Four men sharing rent in a five-bedroom apartment isn’t unheard of. This isn’t a cult. This isn’t a frat house. This isn’t—

The elevator dings. The doors part. And the first thing you hear is laughter. It spills into the hallway like it lives there. Low, overlapping, careless. The door to their unit is already open. You don’t knock. You step inside.

The apartment is bigger than the pictures could’ve shown. High ceilings with steel beams running across them. Floor-to-ceiling windows pouring in late afternoon light that turns everything gold. A massive sectional couch in charcoal gray dominates the living space. There’s a long dining table made of reclaimed wood, scuffed in places that look intentional.

Music hums low from somewhere, bass-heavy, lazy. And then, you see them. All four of them. Shirtless. You stop walking. They’re scattered across the living area in a way that suggests they were doing something physical, lifting, maybe, but not something that required shirts. One is crouched by a stack of flattened cardboard boxes. Another leans against the kitchen island with a bottle of water tipped to his lips. Someone else stands near the couch, forearms flexed as he adjusts the hem of his joggers.

They notice you at the same time. Conversation dies. It’s not dramatic. Not loud. It just… stops. Four pairs of eyes land on you. And stay there. You feel it before you process it. The weight of being looked at. Not glanced. Not politely assessed. Looked at. Slowly. Thoroughly. Like you’re an answer to a question they’ve already been debating.

The one by the kitchen island lowers his bottle first. He’s tall. Lean muscle, not bulky. Collarbone sharp under the light. Damp hair pushed back from his forehead like he’s just showered or run a hand through it too many times. His gaze drags over you without apology. From your shoes. Up your legs.

To your waist. Your chest. Your mouth. Your eyes. He doesn’t look away when you meet his stare. That has to be Heeseung. The voice fits.

“Y/N.”

It isn’t a question. Your name sounds different in the open air of the apartment. Deeper. Warmer. More tangible. “Yeah.” Your voice comes out steady, which surprises you.

He pushes off the island and walks toward you. The other three follow slower, not crowding but not retreating either. You become aware of everything at once. The quiet click of your suitcase wheels settling. The way your fingers tighten around the strap of your duffel. The faint sheen of sweat along their collarbones.

They must’ve been moving furniture. Or maybe they just wanted an excuse to be shirtless when you arrived. The thought hits you uninvited. And then,  you realize you’re staring, too. One of them, broader shoulders, dark hair falling into his eyes, lets out a low whistle.

“Not mid,” he mutters.

The guy beside him elbows his ribs. A cocky grin already spreading over his lips nonetheless before he disrupts it by caging his lower lip between his teeth. “Shut up.” Heat crawls up your neck.

Heeseung stops about three feet in front of you. Close enough that you can see the faint shadow of stubble along his jaw. Close enough to smell something clean and subtle, soap, maybe, or skin warmed by movement. He tilts his head slightly.

“You’re on time.”

“I said I would be.”

A corner of his mouth lifts. Behind him, one of the others steps forward and grabs your suitcase handle before you can protest. “We’ll take that.”

It’s said casually, but there’s something about the way he says we again that makes your stomach dip. The fourth one finally speaks. “You bring everything?”

“Just enough to survive a week,” you reply.

He laughs. “Smart.” They move around you with unsettling ease. Not touching you. Not yet. But close enough that the air shifts when they pass. You step fully into the apartment as your suitcase is rolled toward the hallway. The door shuts behind you with a quiet click that feels louder than it should. You turn slowly, taking in the space.

The kitchen is massive, marble countertops, stainless steel appliances, open shelving that somehow looks organized despite the presence of four men. There are plants near the windows. A guitar propped casually against the wall.

This isn’t a mess. It isn’t chaotic. It’s lived-in. Comfortable. Dangerously comfortable. “Room’s down the hall,” Heeseung says. “Last one on the right.”

You nod, but you don’t move yet. Because they’re still looking at you. Not in a way that feels crude. But undeniably… interested. Assessing. One of them, taller than the rest, sharper features, leans back against the wall and crosses his arms. His eyes crinkle,  “So,” he says slowly. “You cool living with guys?” The question isn’t innocent. You lift your chin slightly.

“I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”

His gaze flickers, approval, maybe. The broad-shouldered one smirks.

“You get easily offended?”

“No.”

“You snore?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Got a boyfriend?”

The question lands differently. You glance at Heeseung. He hasn’t spoken. He’s watching you. Waiting. You meet his eyes and answer evenly, “No.”

The silence that follows is subtle, but it shifts something. Like a door quietly unlocking. Heeseung gestures down the hall. “Come see your room.”

You follow. The hallway is lined with closed doors. Music grows fainter as you move away from the main space. Your suitcase wheels roll softly against polished concrete. He opens the last door and steps aside to let you in first. The room is bigger than you expected.

Large window. Soft gray walls. A queen-sized bed frame already assembled. A desk near the corner. Closet doors sliding open to reveal empty hangers. It doesn’t feel like someone just left it. It feels like it was waiting.

You step inside. He follows. The others hover at the doorway, leaning casually against the frame like they’re watching a show. “Well?” one of them asks. You set your duffel down on the bed.

“It’s… really nice.” Heeseung walks to the window and pulls the curtain slightly, letting more light in.

“Told you. No bullshit.” He turns to face you fully. There’s something different now that you’re in a smaller space. More contained. More charged. You can feel the other three just outside the room. Listening. You cross your arms loosely.

“What’s the actual catch?”

One of the guys snorts from the hallway. Heeseung’s lips twitch. “No catch.”

“Four guys, one girl, cheap rent, no second viewings. There’s always a catch.”

He steps closer. Not enough to trap you. Just enough to make you aware of proximity. “We don’t like flakes,” he says quietly. “We don’t like drama. We don’t like people who pretend they’re chill and then aren’t.”

“And if I’m not?”

“Then you won’t last.”

The words aren’t cruel. They’re factual. You swallow. “Is that a threat?”

His gaze drops briefly to your mouth. Then back up. “It’s information.”

The other three laugh softly behind him. “You scared?” someone calls.

You step closer instead of back. “No.” And that’s the truth. You’re not scared. You’re wired. There’s a difference. He studies you for a long second. Then nods once.

“Good.” He steps back, creating space again. “You can move in tonight if you want.” Your heartbeat stutters.

“That was the deal.” One of them pushes off the doorframe. “Guess we’ve got a new roommate.” The broad-shouldered one grins. “Welcome to the madhouse.”

They disperse slightly after that. Not fully. But enough to let you breathe. You kneel on the bed to unzip your duffel, aware of eyes tracking the movement. A shirt comes out. Toiletry bag. A pair of heels you probably won’t need but packed anyway.

From the hallway, a voice says quietly, “She’s staying.”

“Obviously,” another replies.

You pretend not to hear. But your skin hums. Because beneath the jokes. Beneath the cocky questions. There’s something else. A tension that hasn’t snapped yet. An understanding that this isn’t just about splitting rent. You don’t know the rules. You don’t know the lines. But you feel them. Drawn. Invisible. Waiting. You stand and smooth your hands down your sides.

“I’ll bring the rest tomorrow.” Heeseung leans against the wall now, arms crossed. “Take your time.”

Your gaze locks again. The eye contact lingers too long to be accidental. Too steady to be polite. It’s not crude. It’s not rushed. It’s slow. Deliberate. Like he’s memorizing you.

And maybe, you’re memorizing him, too.

Friday night settles in outside the window, the sky deepening from gold to blue. You came here for cheap rent. For square footage. For practical reasons. But as the music in the living room turns louder and someone calls your name like you’ve always belonged here, you realize something quietly, dangerously simple. This wasn’t just a listing.

It was an invitation. And you accepted it. The kitchen island becomes your first battlefield.

Someone, Jay, you learn later, has already spread out a chaotic spread of takeout: greasy fried chicken in red-and-white buckets, japchae tangled in sesame oil, bulging containers of tteokbokki still steaming, a few lonely mandu that look like they've been fought over. Plastic forks and chopsticks clatter. No plates. No pretense of civility.

You slide onto one of the high stools, thighs sticking slightly to the leather from the heat still clinging to your skin after the move. Your thin white tank clings in all the wrong-right places, damp from nerves and the apartment's lazy, cold thermostat. No bra underneath because you'd changed into "comfy" clothes after unpacking the bare minimum. Big mistake.

Or the best one you've made all week. They circle like sharks who've already scented blood. Heeseung claims the stool right beside you without asking. His bare knee knocks yours under the island the second you settle. He doesn't move it. Neither do you. Jay drops onto the one across from you, broad shoulders taking up too much real estate. He leans forward on his elbows, forearms corded, watching you like you're the next thing on the menu.

Jake sprawls next to him, legs spread wide under the counter, one foot hooking casually around your ankle like it's always belonged there. He grins, pretty, boyish, filthy.

Sunghoon perches at the end like a king on his throne, long legs stretched out, one hand already tearing into a chicken wing. He licks sauce off his thumb slowly, eyes never leaving the front of your tank.

"Alright," Heeseung says, voice low and amused as he pops open a beer and slides one toward you without asking if you drink. "Introductions, since you're staying."

He drags a knuckle down your bare arm, slow, deliberate, like he's testing how soft you are. Goosebumps erupt instantly. "I'm Heeseung." His fingers linger at your wrist, thumb pressing your pulse point. "You already knew that." You nod, throat dry. Take a sip of the beer. It's cold. Sharp. Does nothing to cool the heat pooling between your legs.

Jay jerks his chin up. "Park Jongseong. Jay." He reaches across the island, grabs a piece of tteokbokki with his fingers, holds it out to you. "Open." You hesitate half a second. He raises one brow. "Don't make me feed you like a baby, sweetheart."

Your lips part. He pushes the sticky rice cake inside, thumb brushing your bottom lip as he pulls back. Sauce smears. He doesn't wipe it off. Just watches it glisten there.

"Jake Sim," the one with the foot around your ankle says. He leans in, elbow on the counter, chin in hand. His gaze drops blatantly to your chest. Your nipples have pebbled hard against the thin cotton, traitorous little peaks begging for attention. He bites his lip, lets out a soft, appreciative hum. "Fuck, you're not wearing a bra. Bold move, roomie."

Heat floods your face. Also lower. Sunghoon doesn't bother with words at first. He just stares, cold, assessing, predatory. Then he speaks, voice velvet and mean.

"Park Sunghoon." He drags a fry through sauce, offers it to you the same way Jay did. When you lean forward to take it, he pulls it back at the last second, makes you chase. You feel ridiculous. Wet. "Good girl." The praise lands like a slap. Your thighs clench.

Heeseung chuckles low beside you. His hand finds your knee under the island, big, warm, possessive. Slides up your inner thigh slow enough that you could stop him. You don't. His fingers stop just shy of where your shorts end, thumb stroking the crease where thigh meets hip. Back and forth. Lazy. Teasing the edge of your underwear.

"So," Jay says around a mouthful of chicken, eyes locked on the outline of your nipples like they're speaking to him personally. "What's your deal, Y/N? You always this easy to read?"

Jake snorts. Leans closer. "Bet she's already soaked just from us looking."

"Shut up," you mutter, but it comes out breathy. Weak.

Heeseung's thumb presses harder. "She is," he says quietly, like it's a fact he's confirming for the group. His other hand reaches up, casual, like he's reaching for more food, and brushes the side of your breast through the tank. The pad of his thumb grazes your nipple. Circles once. 

You gasp. Small. Involuntary. Sunghoon smirks. "Told you. Instant slut for attention." Jay exchanges a look with Jake, dirty, conspiratorial. They both laugh under their breath.

"Pass her the spicy one," Jake says. "See if she cries."

Heeseung finally pulls his hand from between your legs, only to slide it around your waist instead. Tugs you closer until your side is flush against his bare chest. Skin on skin. Heat on heat. "Eat," he murmurs against your ear. Breath hot. "You're gonna need the energy."

You pick up a piece of chicken with shaking fingers. They watch every bite like it's porn. Sunghoon leans forward. "Question." You meet his eyes. Dark. Unblinking.

"You gonna pretend you're not dripping for us all night, or can we skip the bullshit and get to the part where you spread on the counter?"

Your chopsticks freeze halfway to your mouth. Jake groans softly. "Hyung—"

"What?" Sunghoon shrugs. "We're all thinking it. She's sitting here with her tits out, clit probably throbbing, acting like she didn't come here to get fucked stupid by four guys who don't even know her last name."

Heeseung's hand slides higher again, this time under your tank. Palm flat against your bare stomach. Fingers splay wide. Claiming territory. Jay licks sauce off his lips. Slow. "Rent-free, remember? That pussy's been ours since you texted back."

Jake's foot slides higher up your calf. "Bet she clenches just hearing that." You do. They know. Heeseung's thumb finds your nipple again, pinches lightly through the fabric. Rolls it.

"Finish eating," he says, voice deceptively gentle. "Then we're gonna show you how we collect rent around here."

The words are disgusting. The way your body responds is worse. You swallow hard. Sauce still sticky on your lip. They wait. Patient. Filthy. Certain. Because they already know, you're not leaving this island until every inch of you is marked.

And the food? It's barely started getting cold. The takeout disappears faster than it should, mostly because your mouth is never empty for long.

Jay keeps tearing off pieces of chicken, dipping them in sauce, holding them to your lips like it's his personal mission to keep you full. His fingers linger every time, brushing your tongue, smearing gloss and grease across your chin until you're sticky and flushed. "Good girl," he murmurs once, low enough that only you hear it, but loud enough that the others smirk.

Heeseung never stops touching. His hand starts at your knee again, then climbs, slow, shameless, until it's high on your inner thigh, thumb tracing lazy circles over the damp cotton of your shorts. When you shift, trying to close your legs, he just spreads them wider with his knee. Casual. Like adjusting furniture. His other hand stays under your tank, palm flat against your stomach, fingers occasionally drifting up to pluck at your nipples like he's testing how hard they can get before you whimper.

They do get hard. Painfully so. The thin fabric does nothing to hide it.

Sunghoon leans back, legs spread, one hand lazily palming himself through his sweats while he watches. "Bet she's clenching every time Jay feeds her," he says, voice dripping. "Like a little hungry bird. Open wide, princess, here comes the next load."

Jake laughs, soft and filthy, leaning so close his breath fans your ear. "You're so fucking cute when you're pretending not to like it, baby. Look at you, your body is begging, thighs shaking. You gonna come just from us looking at you like the slut you are?" He drags his tongue along the shell of your ear. "Say 'please' and maybe we'll let you grind on the stool till you soak it."

You don't say please.

You just swallow another bite Jay pushes past your lips, choke a little when Heeseung's fingers slip under the leg of your shorts and graze the edge of your folds, wet, swollen, traitorous. They all hear the tiny, broken sound you make.

Sunghoon groans. "Fuck. That's the sound I wanna hear when she's choking on my dick later."

Dinner ends like that, messy, humiliating, electric.

When the last container is shoved aside, you mumble something about needing to unpack. Your voice is wrecked. Legs unsteady as you slide off the stool.

Heeseung's hand finally leaves your body, but not before he gives your ass a firm, possessive squeeze. "Go on, sweetheart. Get settled."

Their laughter follows you down the hallway, low, overlapping, knowing. "She's dripping down her thighs, I can smell it from here."

"Bet she locks the door and fingers herself thinking about us."

"Door stays unlocked from now on. House rule."

You shut yourself in the bedroom anyway. Heart hammering. Cheeks burning. Cunt throbbing so hard it hurts. You tell yourself you're just going to unpack. You don't.

The apartment feels smaller now, the air thicker, like the walls themselves are breathing. You’re still sprawled on the edge of the mattress, knees wide, thin cotton shorts shoved down just far enough that the waistband bites into the tops of your thighs. Your tank top has ridden up under your breasts, nipples stiff and visible through the damp fabric. Two fingers are buried inside you, knuckle-deep, curling, pumping, while your thumb mashes frantic, messy circles over your swollen clit. Every stroke pulls a slick, obscene sound from between your legs. You can’t stop. You don’t want to stop.

The apartment is quiet for maybe ten minutes. Then you hear it. From the living room, muffled at first, then unmistakable. Low grunts. Wet, rhythmic sounds. Skin on skin. "New roommate's pussy looked so fucking tight," Jake's voice, breathy. "Bet she'd cry if I went in raw."

Jay, rougher: "I'd make her ride me reverse so I could watch that ass bounce while Heeseung fucks her throat."

Sunghoon, colder, meaner: "I'm breaking that little cunt open first. Gonna make her squirt all over the couch before the night's over."

Heeseung's voice cuts through, low, controlled, dangerous. "We're breaking her in slow. Let her think she has control for a day or two. Then we take turns stretching her till she forgets her own name."

More groans. Faster strokes. Someone swears. Someone moans your name, your actual fucking name, like it's already theirs. Your cunt clenches hard around your fingers at the memory. A fresh gush of wetness coats your palm. You’re dripping onto the sheet now, dark spot spreading beneath your ass. You try to muffle the next whimper by biting the inside of your cheek, but it still leaks out, high and broken.

You come hard. Silent at first, then a choked whimper slips out when your fingers push inside, chasing the aftershocks. Your thighs shake. The bed creaks. The apartment has been dead silent for thirty seconds.

Then, floorboards creak. Not fast. Not rushed. Slow. Measured. One deliberate step after another. Your heart slams against your ribs so violently you’re sure they can hear it through the thin walls. You freeze, fingers still stuffed inside you, walls fluttering helplessly around them. You don’t dare pull them out. Don’t dare move. Every nerve feels peeled open, raw, screaming.

The footsteps stop right outside your door. You hold your breath. The knob turns. No knock. No warning. The door swings inward on silent hinges. Heeseung fills the frame.

No shirt. Sweatpants slung obscenely low, the thick ridge of his cock still half-hard and outlined against the gray cotton like it’s trying to tear through. A faint sheen of sweat glistens along his collarbones, down the cut of his abs. His hair is wrecked, fingers-raked, damp at the temples. His eyes are black, pupils blown, and the corner of his mouth curls in something that isn’t quite a smile. It’s possession wearing amusement like a mask.

He doesn’t step inside. Not yet. He just leans one bare shoulder against the doorframe, arms loosely crossed, and lets his gaze drag over you, slow, deliberate, filthy. From the way your thighs tremble, to the hand still buried in your shorts, to the wet spot darkening the sheet, to your bitten-raw lip and glassy eyes.

“Caught you,” he murmurs. Voice so low it vibrates in your chest. Your fingers twitch involuntarily inside yourself. A tiny, helpless pump. You can’t help it. His voice alone is enough to make your cunt spasm. He notices. Of course he notices. His head tilts. “You didn’t even lock the door, baby.”

The endearment lands like a slap and a caress at once. Your mouth opens, maybe to deny, maybe to beg, maybe just to breathe, but nothing comes out except a shaky exhale.

He takes one step forward. The floor creaks under his weight. Another step. Your pulse is in your throat, your clit, your fingertips. You’re so wet it’s obscene, every tiny shift of your hips makes a slick sound you’re sure he can hear.

He stops at the foot of the bed. Close enough that you can smell him, clean sweat, faint cologne, the dark musk of arousal still clinging to his skin from whatever they were doing out there.

“Look at you,” he says softly. Almost tender. “Legs spread like you were waiting for an audience. Fingers stuffed in that greedy little hole while you listened to us talk about ruining you.” His eyes flick to where your hand disappears into your shorts. “Did you come thinking about Sunghoon splitting you open? Or Jay making you bounce on his cock while I fucked your throat raw?”

You make a sound, half sob, half moan. Your hips jerk up without permission, chasing your own fingers. Heeseung’s gaze darkens. “Don’t stop.”

Your breath hitches. “Keep fucking yourself,” he orders, voice dropping into something darker, quieter, more dangerous. “Let me watch how desperate you got listening to us plan all the ways we’re gonna break you.”

Your fingers move before your brain catches up, slow at first, then faster, wetter, louder. The heel of your palm grinds against your clit with every thrust. Your other hand claws at the sheet. Your thighs shake so hard the bed frame rattles. Heeseung doesn’t touch you. He just watches.

Eyes heavy-lidded. Breathing slow and controlled while yours comes in ragged little pants. The outline of his cock has thickened again, straining harder against the sweats. A dark spot blooms at the tip. "You were moaning our names," he says, tilting his head. "Heard you clear as day."

You open your mouth. Nothing comes out. He walks closer. Stops at the edge of the bed. Looks down at you, spread, flushed, fingers still glistening.

"First rule of the house," he says, voice velvet and final. He reaches down, grips your chin, tilts your face up so you have to meet his eyes. "If we hear you moaning our names, if you touch that pretty pussy thinking about us, you don't get to come alone anymore."

His thumb drags across your bottom lip, collecting the spit and gloss there. "You finish with one of us inside you. Or on you. Or watching. Your choice."

He leans in until his mouth is a breath from yours. "But tonight?" He smirks, slow, filthy, victorious. "Tonight you go to sleep wet and aching. No more touching. That's rule two."

He straightens. Steps back. "Get some rest, sweetheart."

He turns for the door. Pauses. Looks over his shoulder. "And tomorrow?" His smile is all teeth. "Rent's due."

The door clicks shut behind him. You lie back on the bed, heart slamming, thighs slick, body screaming. You don't touch yourself again. Not because you don't want to. But because you know, he's right outside. And they're all waiting for the next time you break.

Your gasp rips through the dim bedroom like a blade, but it’s not fear that claws up your throat, it’s the raw, electric shock of Jake’s iron grip clamping around your upper arm, yanking you upright so violently the mattress squeaks in protest. Your eyes fly open to the sight of his wicked grin, teeth flashing white in the pale morning light filtering through half-drawn blinds. The sheets are torn away in one savage sweep, cool air slamming against your overheated skin like a slap. Your thin tank top is already bunched uselessly under your tits, the fabric twisted tight around your ribs, while your tiny sleep shorts have ridden so high they barely cover the swell of your ass cheeks, the crotch seam digging intently into your folds.

“Morning, roomie,” Jake purrs, voice dripping with mock sweetness and pure venom. He drags you out of bed like a ragdoll, your bare feet scrambling for purchase on the icy concrete floor, toes curling against the chill. His free hand instantly mauls your left tit, thick fingers sinking deep into the soft, heavy flesh, squeezing so hard your nipple hardens between his knuckles like a ripe berry. His thumb flicks it once, twice, three times, fast and brutal, like he’s punishing a disobedient little button. Pain blooms hot and sharp, shooting straight to your clit, and you hiss through clenched teeth, back arching involuntarily, pushing your chest further into his greedy palm.

He laughs, low, filthy, delighted, and crashes his mouth against your cheek in a wet, sloppy kiss that’s all tongue and teeth. The flat of his tongue drags slow and deliberate across your flushed skin, leaving a thick trail of spit that cools instantly. He pulls back with a loud smack, lips shiny, eyes glittering with mischief.

“Breakfast’s waiting, princess. And you’re the main fucking course.”

He hauls you down the hallway, your legs stumbling, tits bouncing freely under the ruined tank, shorts still tangled around one thigh. The living room hits you like a fever dream: thick with the scent of fresh-brewed coffee, printer ink, and the unmistakable musk of four horny men who’ve already been stroking themselves thinking about this exact moment. Jay’s lounging like a king on the massive sectional sofa, legs spread wide in nothing but gray sweats that do nothing to hide the monstrous bulge tenting the fabric, one arm slung lazily over the backrest, the other lazily palming his cock through the material. He doesn’t even stand. Just crooks two fingers at you, slow and commanding, a lazy smirk playing on his full lips.

Jake shoves you forward hard. You stumble straight into Jay’s waiting hands, rough, calloused palms gripping your hips like vices, and he yanks you down onto his lap in one fluid, possessive motion. Your bare ass cheeks land flush against the scorching heat of his massive morning wood, the thick ridge of it nestling perfectly between your cheeks through the thin sweats. He groans deep in his chest and rocks up once, grinding his fat cock against you so you feel every throbbing inch, every vein, the blunt head nudging right against your folds like a promise.

“Sit pretty for me, slut,” Jay growls hot against the shell of your ear, breath smelling like mint and sin. One thick arm snakes around your waist, locking you down like a seatbelt made of steel. His other hand shoves up under your tank top, claiming your right tit fully, squeezing, kneading, rolling the nipple between rough fingers until it’s swollen and aching. You squirm helplessly, already leaking slick down your thighs, but he just chuckles darkly and pinches harder. “That’s it. Feel how hard you make me first thing in the goddamn morning?”

Heeseung leans against the kitchen island like a statue carved from ice and hunger, arms crossed over his broad chest, black tank stretched tight across his muscles, sweatpants slung low enough to show the deep V of his hips. His dark eyes drink you in with that calm, terrifying amusement, lips curled in the barest smirk. Sunghoon’s perched on the arm of the couch like a predator in repose, long legs dangling, one hand already shoved inside his boxers, slowly fisting his long, pretty cock, tip flushed angry red, leaking precum in shiny beads that he smears down the shaft with lazy twists.

A single crisp sheet of paper is taped to the stainless-steel fridge, bold black Arial bullet points screaming authority.

Roommate Rules.

Jake claps once, sharp and theatrical, the sound cracking through the room like a whip. “New roommate orientation, baby! Time to learn the house rules. Stand up, oh wait.” He grins viciously as Jay’s arm tightens, keeping you impaled on his lap, grinding slow circles so the ridge of his cock drags deliciously against your dripping cunt. “Never mind. Stay right there.”

Jay doesn’t let you move an inch. Jake rips the paper free and slaps it into your trembling hands. “Read it. Out. Loud. Every word.”

Heeseung’s voice cuts through like velvet over steel. “And don’t you dare stop.”

Your fingers shake so badly the paper rattles. Jay’s free hand dives straight down, past the waistband of your shorts, two thick fingers spearing into your soaked cunt without mercy, no teasing, no warmup. They curl viciously against your G-spot instantly, pumping in and out with wet, filthy squelching sounds that echo obscenely. Your walls clamp down greedily, sucking him deeper, and you choke on the first syllable.

“R-Rule… one…” Your voice cracks into a broken moan as Jay adds a third finger on the next thrust, stretching you wide, scissoring brutally. “N-No panties… in the apartment… after 8 p.m. Fuck—ahh!”

Sunghoon hums low, shoving his boxers down to his thighs, his long cock springing free, veiny, curved slightly, glistening as he strokes faster, thumb swiping over the leaking slit. “Louder, whore. Let us hear how wet that rule makes you.”

Jake drops to his knees between your spread thighs like he’s worshipping at an altar. He rips your shorts down your legs in one violent yank, tossing them across the room, leaving you completely bare from the waist down on Jay’s lap, pussy lips puffy and shining, clit throbbing visibly. He spreads your thighs wider with both hands, thumbs digging into soft flesh, and leans in. His tongue, hot, flat, and obscene, drags from your dripping hole all the way up to your swollen clit in one long, sloppy stripe. He sucks your clit into his mouth like it’s candy, tongue flicking rapid-fire while Jay’s fingers keep moving.

“Rule two,” you sob, hips jerking wildly, trying to ride both sensations at once. “You… sit on someone’s lap… during movie nights, oh god, Jake, please—ahh!”

Jake pulls back just enough to spit a thick glob of saliva right onto your clit, watching it drip down to mix with your juices coating Jay’s knuckles. “Good fucking girl. Keep reading while I eat this sloppy cunt like breakfast.”

Your voice is pure wreckage now, high, breathy, broken. “Rule three… Whoever cooks… the others get to fuck you… on the counter… while dinner’s in the oven, fuck, I’m gonna—”

Jay slams his fingers deeper, adding a fourth, stretching you to the burning limit. Your pussy gushes around him, slick squirting out in messy pulses that soak his sweats and the couch beneath you. The wet sounds are pornographic, schlick-schlick-schlick, loud enough to drown out your whimpers.

Heeseung is stroking himself now, thick, heavy, perfectly shaped, veins pulsing as he strokes slow and controlled, eyes locked on your face like he’s memorizing every twitch of humiliation and pleasure. “Almost there, sweetheart. Finish it. Then we give you the welcome gift you’ve been dripping for since you moved in.”

Jake stands, shoving his shorts down. His cock slaps heavy against his abs, thick, girthy, the head red and angry, already drooling precum in long strings. He strokes himself right in front of your face, the wet sound of his fist mixing with Jay’s fingers destroying your cunt. The tip keeps brushing your cheek, smearing precum across your skin like war paint.

You force the last words out between guttural moans, tears of overwhelming pleasure streaking your face. “First… official use… read the rules out loud… while being used—nnngh! And… and it ends with all four… cumming on your face… and tits… as welcome gift, please, I can’t—!”

Silence crashes down for half a second, only the obscene sounds of fingers plunging into soaked pussy and four men stroking their cocks. Then Jay rips his fingers out with a wet pop. You whine pathetically at the sudden emptiness, pussy clenching around nothing, a gush of your own slick dripping down your thighs onto the carpet.

Heeseung steps forward first, voice calm as death. “On your knees, cumdump.” Jay lifts you like you weigh nothing, strong arms tossing you onto the floor between them. The rough carpet bites into your knees as you kneel, back straight, tits heaving, cunt visibly throbbing and empty. They circle you like wolves, four towering, muscular bodies, cocks hard and leaking, surrounding you in a filthy halo of dominance.

Heeseung speaks, low and final. “Welcome to the house, sweetheart. Open that pretty mouth and take what you earned.” They don’t ask permission. They just ruin you.

Jake goes first, groaning loud and theatrical, fist flying as thick, ropey jets of cum erupt across your face. One stripe lands right across your open mouth, coating your tongue in salty heat. Another paints your left cheek, dripping down to your jaw. A third splatters across your forehead, sliding into your hair. He milks every drop, slapping his spent cock against your lips. “Swallow what you can, baby. The rest stays.”

Sunghoon’s next, quiet, intense, eyes dark as midnight. He aims low, long powerful spurts painting your tits in pearly white. Thick globs land on your left nipple, sliding down the curve of your breast like icing. Another heavy rope coats the valley between them, dripping down your stomach. He keeps stroking through it, smearing the head of his cock through the mess on your skin, marking you deeper.

Jay growls your name like a curse, “Fuck, look at you”—and unloads across the right side of your face. Hot cum hits your cheekbone, your eyelid, your lips, mixing with Jake’s in sticky rivers that drip off your chin onto your cum-glazed tits. One stray shot lands directly on your tongue and you moan, swallowing reflexively.

Heeseung saves the best for last. He steps closest, tipping your chin up with two fingers so your teary eyes lock onto his. “Eyes on me while I paint my new toy.” His strokes stay slow, deliberate, until the first powerful pulse shoots straight across your lips, forcing you to taste him, thick, bitter-sweet, coating your tongue. The next stripes your chest, adding fresh layers over Sunghoon’s mess, dripping off your nipples in heavy rivulets. He keeps coming, pulse after pulse, until your entire face and tits are a glistening, ruined masterpiece of four loads, cum sliding down your body in obscene trails, pooling in the hollow of your throat and between your thighs.

When they finally step back, you’re a trembling, kneeling wreck, face and chest absolutely drenched, lips parted, tongue still out like a good little cumslut, thighs shaking, pussy clenching and dripping onto the carpet in desperate need.

Heeseung crouches, thumb scooping a thick glob of mixed cum from your bottom lip. He pushes it deep into your mouth. “Suck. Clean every drop like the rules say.” You do, hollowing your cheeks, sucking his thumb clean with a wet pop, eyes fluttering as the salty, musky taste of all four of them floods your senses. He smiles, slow, dark, satisfied. “Rules are rules, baby.”

Jake laughs, tucking his cock away with a satisfied sigh. “Shower’s down the hall, princess. But we won’t mind if you don’t shower today. Or ever again.”

Jay leans down, pressing an almost tender kiss to the top of your cum-matted hair. “Welcome home, roomie.”

Sunghoon just stares, licking his lips as you instinctively drag your tongue across them, chasing every stray drop. “Rent’s cheap as fuck now, huh? But you are gonna pay every single day.”

You can’t speak, voice wrecked, body owned. But your cunt is already fluttering, aching, dripping for the next rule they’ll break you with. And they know it. They always will.

The rest of the day unravels like a slow, deliberate fever dream, every ordinary second laced with the kind of casual, relentless violation that makes your pulse thunder and your cunt throb like a second heartbeat. You try so fucking hard to pretend it’s just another lazy Saturday. That the thick, salty ghosts of their cum aren’t still drying in flaky trails across your tits and cheeks no matter how hard you scrubbed in the shower. That the taste of all four of them, bitter, musky, addictively filthy, doesn’t coat the back of your throat every single time you swallow.  

The shower is a war zone. Scalding water pounds against skin still blooming with faint red handprints and fingertip bruises, steam thick enough to choke on. You soap yourself raw, trying to erase the evidence, but every glide of your own hands over your sore nipples, your swollen clit, your tender skin just reminds you how easily they marked you. When you finally step out, the oversized black tee you pull on clings to your still-damp skin like a surrender flag, hem barely skimming the bottom curve of your ass, nipples already stiff and obvious against the thin cotton, pussy lips puffy and exposed every time you move. No bra. No panties. It’s not even close to 8 p.m., but the rule is already branded into your brain like a collar. You tell yourself it’s just comfort. Practicality. Not the first step in learning to live with your holes on permanent display.

They let you cling to that lie for exactly twenty-three minutes.

You’re in the kitchen, stretching up on tiptoes to grab a glass from the top shelf, the tee riding all the way up to expose the full, bare globes of your ass and the slick shine already coating your inner thighs, when the first crack lands.

Jake’s palm connects with your right cheek like a gunshot, sharp, loud, viciously playful. The sound ricochets off the marble counters. Your whole body jolts forward, glass clattering against the shelf, and a hot bloom of pain explodes across your skin. Before you can even gasp, he’s right there, chest pressed to your back, hips grinding his half-hard cock against the cleft of your ass through his sweats.

“Careful, princess,” he drawls, voice syrupy and mean. Both hands shove up under the tee from behind, claiming your tits like they were built for his palms, squeezing the soft, heavy flesh until it bulges between his fingers, thumbs and forefingers rolling your nipples in tight, cruel pinches that send lightning straight to your clit. “Wouldn’t want you breaking shit on your first full day. Or maybe we should make you clean it up on your knees.”

You white-knuckle the counter, breath sawing out of you, thighs pressing together uselessly as fresh slick drips down your legs.

Heeseung strolls past like he’s fetching orange juice, not even sparing you a glance, until his arm snaps out mid-stride and his open palm cracks across your left cheek so hard the sting blooms white-hot and immediate. Your knees buckle. He keeps walking, cool as ever, but you catch the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Jay’s waiting when you bend over to grab a yogurt from the bottom drawer of the fridge. The oversized tee flips up completely, baring your dripping cunt and the pink handprints already decorating your ass. His bare foot hooks your ankle, yanking your legs apart with zero warning. Then his hand comes down, once, twice, three brutal, stinging slaps in rapid succession, each one harder than the last, the wet smack of skin on wet skin echoing obscenely. Your pussy clenches visibly with every impact, a humiliating string of slick stretching from your hole to the floor.

“Good reach, roomie,” he mutters, already back to scrolling his phone like he didn’t just turn your ass into a throbbing, cherry-red masterpiece. “Keep bending over like that and I might have to test how deep that pretty throat is before dinner.”

Sunghoon doesn’t bother with words. He simply appears behind you while you’re loading the dishwasher, hips slamming forward to pin you bent over the open rack, his massive erection grinding slow and filthy between your spread cheeks. One arm bands around your waist, the other shoves under the tee to grope your tits with lazy, proprietary thoroughness, palms rolling the soft mounds like ripe fruit, fingers tugging and twisting your nipples until they’re swollen, aching peaks. He pinches so hard you cry out, then releases you with a low whistle, walking away like he just checked the mail.

It never stops.

Every single movement is an invitation they cash immediately. Reaching for the remote? Jake’s fingers plunge between your thighs from behind, two thick digits sliding through your soaked folds just long enough to coat themselves before he pulls away, sucking them clean with a wink. Bending to pick up a dropped spoon? Jay’s palm cracks down again, then stays, middle finger dipping into your cunt, pumping once, twice, curling against your G-spot until your knees shake, then withdrawing with a wet pop and a casual “oops.” Stretching up to dust the top shelf? Heeseung’s mouth finds the back of your neck, teeth grazing, one hand sliding between your legs to flick your clit in rapid, teasing circles until you’re whimpering, then he’s gone, leaving you edged and gasping.

By late afternoon you’re a walking wreck, skin flushed scarlet, ass a lattice of overlapping handprints burning with every step, nipples raw and hypersensitive against the cotton, cunt so swollen and empty it aches like a bruise. Your thighs are shiny with constant slick. Your brain is fogged with need. You’re trying, failing, to fold laundry on the living room couch when Jake decides he’s done playing.

He doesn’t ask. Doesn’t warn. He simply drops to his knees in front of you like a man starved for weeks, hooks your trembling legs over his broad shoulders, and buries his face in your dripping pussy with a guttural groan that vibrates straight through your clit.

No warmup. No mercy.

His tongue is everywhere at once, broad, flat, filthy laps from your clenching hole all the way up to your throbbing clit, then sucking the swollen bud between his lips like he’s trying to pull your soul out through it. He alternates, hard, punishing suction that makes your back bow off the cushions, then soft, fluttering licks that leave you sobbing. Two thick fingers spear into you without resistance, curling viciously against that spongy spot inside while his tongue flicks your clit in rapid, relentless strokes. The wet sounds are deafening, your slick gushing around his knuckles, dripping down his chin, soaking the couch beneath you.

You grab fistfuls of his hair, half trying to rip him off, half grinding your cunt against his face desperate for release. “J-Jake, fuck—too much—ahh!”

He growls into your pussy, the vibration making your vision spark white. Three fingers now, stretching you wide, pumping brutally, thumb rubbing tight circles on your clit while his tongue spears inside you, fucking you in shallow, messy thrusts. Your thighs clamp around his head like a vice. Your back arches so hard you nearly levitate. The orgasm rips through you like lightning, violent, shattering, squirting messily all over his face as you scream, walls convulsing, vision whiting out completely.

He doesn’t stop. He rides you through it, through the aftershocks, through the oversensitive whimpers and the frantic pushing at his head, tongue and fingers relentless until you’re a sobbing, twitching wreck, another smaller orgasm crashing over you before the first even fades.

Only then does he pull back, face glistening, lips swollen, chin dripping with your cum like he just won a war. He climbs up your body slow, caging you against the cushions with his powerful frame, cock heavy and leaking against your thigh through his sweats. Then he kisses you. Not the brutal, claiming way you expect after he just devoured your cunt like a starving animal.

Sweet. Devastatingly soft. His mouth moves against yours like a promise, gentle, coaxing, tongue sliding in lazy, velvet strokes that taste like your own slick and his spit. One hand cups your cheek with shocking tenderness, thumb stroking your jawbone like you’re fragile, precious. The other rests low on your belly, warm, possessive, fingers splayed like he’s claiming the space where his cock will eventually live.

It breaks something in you. Filthy-sweet. Disorienting. Dangerous. When he finally pulls back, he rests his forehead against yours, breath mingling, eyes half-lidded and shining. “Good girl,” he whispers, so soft it feels like a secret. “Tasted so fucking sweet. Could eat this pussy for every meal.”

Then he’s gone, standing, wiping his shiny face with the back of his hand, flashing that boyish, wicked grin like he didn’t just ruin you twice in five minutes. You lie there panting, legs still hooked open and shaking, lips tingling, cunt still fluttering and leaking onto the ruined couch. The others don’t even pretend to look away anymore.

Heeseung glances over from the armchair, dark eyes gleaming, one brow raised in quiet approval. Jay keeps scrolling, but his free hand is palming the massive bulge in his sweats. Sunghoon licks his lips slowly, deliberately, like he’s already tasting his turn. You yank the tee down over your trembling thighs with shaking hands, trying to catch your breath, trying to remember how to be a person.

The clock on the wall glows 7:42 p.m. Eighteen minutes until the first rule locks in for the night. And every single one of them is watching the seconds tick down with hungry, patient eyes.

The day was “normal.”

But normal in this house means your body is their favorite toy, teased, slapped, groped, eaten, and edged until you’re dripping and desperate. The night hasn’t even started.

The apartment is shrouded in that heavy, post-midnight hush, only the low, constant hum of the AC and the faint, faraway pulse of city traffic bleeding through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The clock on the wall glows 12:34 a.m. Your panties have been gone for hours, the rule now a permanent, throbbing law between your legs. Every step you take reminds you: bare, slick, exposed, owned.

You’re trying to ghost down the hallway like a shadow, bare feet silent on the cool hardwood, oversized tee clutched in one fist to keep the hem from riding up, when Heeseung materializes out of nowhere. His long fingers wrap around your wrist like a steel cuff, firm but not cruel, and he yanks you sideways without a single word. The door to his room swings open, swallows you both, and clicks shut with the finality of a prison gate. The lock engages with a soft, damning thunk.

The second the bolt slides home, the mask drops. Heeseung spins you around and slams you back against the door so hard the wood rattles in its frame. His mouth crashes into yours, teeth clashing, tongues battling, no sweetness, just raw, starving hunger. One big hand fists your hair, yanking your head back so he can devour your throat, sucking bruises into the skin while the other shoves up under your tee and finds your already dripping cunt.

“Fuck, you’re soaked,” he growls against your pulse point, two thick fingers spearing straight into you without warning. “Been walking around all night with this greedy little hole empty? Bad girl.”

You moan brokenly, hips jerking into his hand. He adds a third finger instantly, stretching you wide, scissoring brutally while his thumb grinds hard circles on your swollen clit. Your knees buckle; he doesn’t let you fall. Just pins you to the door with his body and finger-fucks you so viciously the sound echoes louder than your gasps.

He rips the tee over your head in one motion, leaving you completely naked. Then he’s spinning you again, bending you over the edge of his massive bed, face pressed into the black silk sheets that smell like him, dark, expensive, masculine. He kicks your legs wider, slaps your ass once, twice, hard enough to make the flesh jiggle and bloom pink.

“Look at this pretty cunt clenching for me,” he snarls, lining up the fat, leaking head of his cock and slamming in to the hilt in one brutal thrust. The stretch burns so good you scream into the mattress. He doesn’t give you time to adjust, just grips your hips hard enough to bruise and starts pounding.

Skin slaps skin like thunder. His heavy balls smack your clit with every savage thrust. The bed creaks violently under the assault. He fucks you like he’s trying to split you in half—deep, punishing strokes that drag against every sensitive ridge inside you, the thick head battering your cervix on every inward slam.

“Take it,” he grunts, one hand fisting your hair to arch your back, the other reaching around to slap your clit in time with his thrusts. “This is what you signed up for, roomie. This cunt belongs to the house now, belongs to me tonight.”

You’re sobbing, drooling onto the sheets, pussy gushing around his cock so loudly it’s embarrassing. He reaches down and spreads your ass cheeks wider, watching his thick shaft disappear into your stretched hole, the creamy ring of your arousal coating every inch.

“Fuck, look at that. Greedy little slut sucking me in.”

He pulls out suddenly, flips you onto your back, and hooks your legs over his shoulders. The new angle lets him drive even deeper. His hips snap forward like a machine, relentless, punishing, perfect. Your tits bounce wildly with every thrust. He leans down and sucks one swollen nipple into his mouth, biting hard enough to make you wail, then soothes it with his tongue before moving to the other.

You come first, hard, screaming, walls clamping down on him like a vice, squirting messily around his cock as your whole body seizes. He doesn’t slow. Just fucks you straight through it, growling praises and filth into your ear.

“That’s it, milk my cock, baby. Give me another. Come on this dick again like the house whore you are.”

You do, second orgasm ripping through you even harder, vision whiting out, nails raking bloody lines down his back. Heeseung follows with a guttural groan, burying himself to the hilt and flooding you with thick, hot ropes of cum, pulse after pulse until it’s leaking out around his cock, dripping down your ass and soaking the sheets.

He stays buried inside you for a long moment, both of you heaving, sweat-slick bodies glued together. Then he pulls out slowly, watching with dark satisfaction as his cum pours from your ruined hole in a creamy waterfall.

But the brutality ends there.

Heeseung rolls off you with surprising grace, chest still rising and falling hard. He sits up, runs a hand through his wrecked hair, then stands, completely naked, still half-hard and shining with your combined mess. You lie there boneless, thighs trembling, cum leaking steadily onto the bed, mind completely blank.

He disappears into the attached bathroom. You hear the faucet run, the soft clink of glass. When he returns, he’s carrying a warm, damp cloth and a small bottle of something. You flinch when he kneels between your spread thighs again, instinct, not fear, but he just shushes you softly.

“Easy, baby.”

The cloth is blissfully warm. He starts at your inner thighs, wiping away the sticky trails of cum with slow, careful strokes. Then higher, between your folds, dabbing gently at your swollen, puffy entrance. You hiss when the fabric brushes your oversensitive clit; he pauses instantly, waiting until you relax before continuing. He cleans every inch of you with the patience of a man who’s done this before, thorough, reverent, almost worshipful. When he’s satisfied, he sets the cloth aside and pours a small amount of cool, soothing lotion onto his fingers, massaging it gently into the red handprints on your hips, your ass, the bite marks on your breasts.

You can only stare at him, wide-eyed, lips parted, heart hammering in a way that has nothing to do with the orgasms.

Heeseung meets your gaze, those dark eyes steady, unreadable for a heartbeat, then the corner of his mouth lifts in something softer than a smirk. “I may be an asshole, baby,” he says, voice low and gravel-rough from how loud he’d moaned your name, “but I know how to treat what’s mine right after I break it.”

He finishes with the lotion, then grabs a clean, fluffy towel from the dresser and drapes it gently over your hips like a blanket. Pulls the black silk sheet up to your waist, tucking it around you with careful hands. Finally, he leans down, brushes sweat-damp strands of hair off your forehead with his knuckles, light, almost sweet, and presses the softest kiss to your temple.

“Get some sleep,” he murmurs against your skin. “You’re gonna need every ounce of strength for what the rest of them have planned tomorrow.”

He doesn’t stay. Just stands, flicks off the bedside lamp with a soft click, and pads out of the room, leaving the door cracked just enough that a thin, golden line of hallway light spills across the floor like an invitation… or a warning.

You lie there in the dark, body aching in the most delicious, ruined way, pussy still fluttering with aftershocks, skin tingling from his gentle hands, mind spinning in dizzy circles.

Because he is an asshole. A cruel, rule-making, cum-painting, pussy-destroying asshole. But tonight, for the first time since you moved in, you’re terrifyingly certain that’s not all he is. And that single, dangerous crack in the armor?

It scares you more than every filthy rule they’ve written on that fridge. Because if Heeseung can fuck you like a toy and then care for you like something precious…

What the hell are the other three capable of? You get your answer somewhere around an hour after Heeseung leaves.

The apartment has gone quiet, city lights bleeding through the blinds in faint orange stripes, the distant hum of traffic like white noise. You’re half-asleep in your own bed again, body still humming from earlier, skin too sensitive, mind too full of everything that’s happened since you walked through the front door. The sheets feel cool against the faint bruises blooming on your hips.

You don’t hear the door open. Just feel the mattress dip behind you, slow, careful, like whoever it is doesn’t want to startle you awake. Then warmth. Jay’s chest presses to your back, not crowding, not possessive in the usual way. Just… there. Solid. His arm slides around your waist from behind, palm flattening low on your stomach. Fingers splay wide, covering as much skin as they can without gripping.

He doesn’t speak at first. Just breathes, slow, even, against the nape of your neck. His nose brushes the baby hairs there once, twice. Then his thumb starts moving.

Slow circles. Lazy, deliberate swirls over the soft skin just below your navel. The kind of touch that feels like he’s tracing something fragile. Like you’re made of blown glass, or spun sugar, or something that might crack if he presses too hard.

It’s nothing like the way they’ve touched you all day. No slaps. No gropes. No mocking whispers or filthy promises. Just this. Quiet. Steady. Almost reverent. You tense for half a second, waiting for the punchline, the shift into something meaner.

It doesn’t come. Instead, his lips find the curve where your shoulder meets your neck. Not a kiss. Just a resting place. Warm breath fanning over your skin in time with the slow rub of his thumb. “You okay?” he murmurs eventually. Voice low, rough from sleep and whatever else he’s been doing in the dark. Not demanding an answer. Just… checking.

You don’t know what to say. Your throat feels tight. You nod once, small, barely there. His hand keeps moving. Same rhythm. Same gentleness. Circles widening a little, then tightening again, like he’s memorizing the shape of you under his palm.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he says against your skin. “Any of it. Tonight. Tomorrow. Whenever.”

The words hang there, simple, quiet, sincere in a way that doesn’t match the asshole roommates who printed rules on the fridge and came on your face like it was a housewarming tradition. You swallow. “I’m… okay,” you whisper. It’s the truth, mostly. The rest is too tangled to name.

He hums once, soft, approving. His arm tightens just enough to pull you closer, back flush to his chest. No grind. No wandering hands. Just holding. The circles don’t stop. Slow. Soothing. Like he’s trying to rub the tension out of you molecule by molecule. You feel your breathing start to match his, deeper, slower. The ache between your legs dulls to a low throb instead of a sharp pulse. Your eyelids grow heavy again. Jay doesn’t move to leave.

Doesn’t push for more. Just stays. Palm warm on your waist. Thumb still drawing those endless, careful circles. Like you’re something worth being gentle with. Even here. Even now. You fall asleep to the rhythm of it, his heartbeat steady against your spine, his breath even against your neck, the soft scrape of calluses on your skin.

And for the first time since you moved in, the apartment doesn’t feel quite so dangerous.

Sunlight slices through the half-open blinds in thin, golden bars across your bare back. You wake slowly, first to the sensation of heat, then weight, then the unmistakable press of something thick and heavy sliding past your lips before your eyes are even open.

Heeseung. He’s already there, kneeling at the edge of the mattress, one hand braced on the headboard, the other cradling the back of your skull with surprising care. His cock is hard, morning wood, thick and flushed, veins prominent under the skin, and he’s feeding it to you slowly, not thrusting, just… settling. Like he’s been waiting for you to wake up around him.

Your lashes flutter. A soft, sleepy sound escapes your throat, half protest, half surrender, as your mouth stretches to accommodate him. He doesn’t push deeper than you can take. Just holds still once the head bumps the back of your tongue, letting you adjust.

“Shh,” he murmurs above you, thumb stroking the hinge of your jaw. “Morning, baby.”

His voice is gravel-rough from sleep, softer than it has any right to be. You blink up at him through damp lashes. He’s shirtless, hair a wreck, eyes dark but not cruel. There’s something almost apologetic in the way he looks down at you, like he knows exactly how many times he’s already used this mouth, this body, in the last forty-eight hours and still can’t stop.

You don’t pull away. Instead, you flatten your tongue along the underside, hollow your cheeks just enough to make him hiss quietly. His hips twitch once, small, involuntary, then still again.

“Good girl,” he breathes. Not mocking. Quiet. Almost reverent.

That’s when you feel the mattress dip on either side. Jake slides in behind you first, warm chest pressing to your back, knees nudging yours apart. His cock, already leaking, slides between your thighs, not inside yet, just rocking slow and lazy along your folds. He kisses the nape of your neck, open-mouthed and gentle, like he’s tasting sleep-warmed skin instead of claiming territory.

“Morning, princess,” he whispers against your ear. One hand slips under you, cupping your breast, not squeezing, just holding. Palm warm. Fingers splayed. Thumb brushing the nipple in slow, soothing circles.

Sunghoon appears on your other side, long limbs unfolding gracefully. He doesn’t speak at first. Just watches your face while Heeseung rocks shallowly into your mouth. Then he leans in, presses a soft, lingering kiss to your temple. The gesture is so unexpectedly tender your breath hitches around Heeseung’s length.

Sunghoon’s hand finds your hip. Strokes down the curve of your waist, then back up. Like he’s memorizing every dip and swell. Like he’s sorry for every bruise he’s left there. Jay’s the last to join.

He’s fully dressed, gray sweats, black tee, hair still damp from a shower, sitting in the armchair across from the bed with a steaming mug of black coffee in one hand and his phone in the other. Vertical hold. Red recording dot blinking steadily.

He doesn’t say anything filthy. Doesn’t bark orders. Just watches. Sips. The corner of his mouth lifts when your eyes meet his over Heeseung’s shoulder. Not a smirk. Something quieter. Almost fond. “Pretty,” he mouths. No sound. Just the shape of the word.

Heeseung starts moving then, slow, shallow rolls of his hips. Never deep enough to choke you. Just enough to fill your mouth, to let you taste the salt and musk of him. Your hands come up instinctively, fingers curling around the base he can’t fit, stroking what your lips can’t reach.

Jake shifts behind you. Lines himself up. Presses in, slow. So slow. The stretch is lazy, unhurried, like he has all morning to sink into you. When he bottoms out, he stays there. Doesn’t thrust. Just grinds in tiny, rolling circles, letting you feel every inch pressed against that spot inside that makes your toes curl.

Sunghoon’s hand slides between you and the mattress. Finds your clit. Circles it with the same gentle pressure Jake’s using on your nipple. No frantic rubbing. No pinching. Just soft, steady friction that builds slow and syrupy.

You moan around Heeseung, muffled, needy. The vibration makes him groan low in his throat.

“Fuck,” he breathes. “That’s it.”

They move like they’ve rehearsed it. Like they’ve agreed, silently, somewhere in the dark hours after Jay held you last night, that today they won’t break you. Not more than they already have.

Jake rocks into you in time with Heeseung’s shallow thrusts. Sunghoon’s fingers never falter, patient, coaxing. Your body starts to tremble, not from overstimulation, but from the slow, relentless climb they’re building together.

Jay’s phone stays steady. He tilts it slightly, capturing the way your back arches, the way Jake’s hand splays protectively over your stomach, the way Sunghoon’s lips brush your shoulder every few seconds like he can’t help himself.

Heeseung’s breathing grows ragged first. “Gonna come,” he warns, voice strained, almost pleading. “Where do you want it, baby?” You can’t answer with words. Just tighten your lips around him, suck harder, look up at him with wide, glassy eyes.

He swears under his breath. Pulls out at the last second, strokes himself twice, and spills across your tongue in thick, warm pulses. You swallow what you can; the rest drips from the corner of your mouth. Heeseung catches it with his thumb, pushes it back between your lips.

“Good girl,” he whispers again. This time his voice cracks. Jake’s rhythm falters behind you. His forehead drops to your shoulder. “Fuck—can I—inside?”

You nod frantically, around Heeseung’s softening cock still resting on your tongue.

He groans, long, low, broken, and buries himself deep. Comes with a shudder that rocks through both of you. Hot. Thick. Filling you until it leaks out around him, down your thighs. He doesn’t pull out right away. Just stays seated, grinding lazily through the aftershocks, letting you clench around him like he’s trying to keep every drop where it belongs.

Sunghoon’s fingers speed up just enough, still gentle, still careful, and you come like a wave breaking slow. No scream. No violent shaking. Just a long, trembling release that leaves you boneless, whimpering softly into Heeseung’s thigh.

They don’t rush to move.

Jake stays inside you, softening but not leaving. Sunghoon keeps petting your clit through the aftershocks, light, soothing touches now. Heeseung strokes your hair back from your face, tucking strands behind your ear.

Jay finally lowers the phone. Stops recording. Sets the mug on the side table. Walks over. He kneels on the edge of the bed, still fully clothed, and cups your cheek. Thumb swipes away the last trace of Heeseung from your lip.

“You okay?” he asks quietly. You nod. Eyes heavy. Body humming. He leans down. Kisses your forehead, soft. Lingering. Then he looks at the others. “Group chat,” he says simply. “She’s gonna want to see it later.”

Jake chuckles, soft, breathless, against your neck. “She’s gonna come again just watching.” Sunghoon finally pulls his hand away. Presses one last kiss to your shoulder blade. Heeseung helps ease you onto your side, careful, like you might shatter. Jake slips out slowly, both of you hissing at the loss. Cum leaks immediately, thick, white, obscene. Jay grabs a clean towel from the nightstand, wipes between your thighs with the same gentle care Heeseung used last night.

No one speaks for a minute. Just breathing. Skin cooling. Hearts slowing. Then Heeseung breaks the quiet. “We were… a lot,” he says. Voice rough. Eyes on yours. “Yesterday. The day before. If it’s too much—”

You shake your head before he can finish. Reach up. Curl your fingers around his wrist. “I’m here,” you whisper. “I’m staying.” Something flickers across his face, relief, maybe. Guilt, definitely.

Jay’s hand finds yours. Squeezes once. Jake presses his lips to the back of your neck, soft, apologetic. Sunghoon just watches you. Then leans in. Kisses the corner of your mouth. Slow. Sweet. “Breakfast,” Jay says eventually. “In bed. No rules for the next hour.”

You laugh, small, wrecked, real. They move like they’ve been given permission to be soft. And for the first time since you moved in, you let yourself believe they might actually mean it. The rest of the day unfolds like something borrowed from another life.

No one touches you. Not in the hungry, claiming way you’ve come to expect. No wandering hands under your shirt while you’re making toast. No casual spanks when you bend to pick up a stray sock. No one pins you against the counter or drags you onto a lap. The rules, those printed, obscene bullet points on the fridge, might as well be written in invisible ink for how irrelevant they feel in the soft, lazy hours that follow breakfast.

They just… stay.

All four of them orbit you without crowding. The living room becomes this strange, sunlit island: blankets dragged from bedrooms, pillows piled into a makeshift nest on the sectional, takeout containers from last night still scattered like evidence of a truce. Someone puts on music, low-fi beats, nothing aggressive, just enough rhythm to fill the quiet without demanding attention. Jake sprawls across the floor with his head in your lap, scrolling memes on his phone and reading the funniest ones out loud in increasingly ridiculous voices until you snort-laugh and accidentally knee him in the ribs.

“Ow, princess, you trying to murder me?” he whines, but he’s grinning, grabbing your hand to press a dramatic kiss to your knuckles before going right back to his phone.

Jay sits cross-legged at the other end of the couch, one of your feet in his lap. He massages your ankle absentmindedly while he argues with Heeseung about whether the new season of some crime drama is trash or genius. Every time you shift, he squeezes your calf once, gentle, grounding, like a silent check-in.

Heeseung’s on the armchair opposite, legs kicked up on the coffee table, nursing the same lukewarm coffee from this morning. He catches your eye every so often and just… holds it. No smirk. No heat. Just a small, almost shy tilt of his mouth, like he’s still surprised you’re still here.

Sunghoon is the quietest. He’s tucked into the corner of the sectional, long legs stretched out, one arm slung over the backrest behind you. He doesn’t say much, just watches. Watches you laugh at Jake’s dumb jokes. Watches the way your shoulders slowly unclench. Watches the way the afternoon light turns your skin gold.

You keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. Every time someone shifts closer, every time a hand brushes your arm or knee, your body tenses on instinct, bracing for the grab, the grope, the inevitable slide into filth. But it never comes.

Instead: Jake starts a pillow fight that lasts exactly thirty five seconds before Jay declares himself referee and tackles Jake into the cushions. Heeseung orders fried chicken and insists on feeding you the first piece, holding it to your lips like Jay used to, but this time there’s no sauce-smeared thumb, no dirty promise in his eyes. Just a soft “Open up, baby,” and when you do, he smiles like you’ve given him something precious.

Sunghoon eventually migrates closer. Not crowding. Just enough that his thigh presses warm against yours. You glance at him, skeptical, guarded, still half-expecting the mask to slip. He notices. Of course he does. His hand lifts, slow, telegraphing every movement so you can pull away if you want. You don’t.

Fingers gentle, he reaches out and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His touch lingers there, knuckles grazing the shell lightly, before he lets his palm cup the side of your face for half a heartbeat. You freeze. He smiles. Not the cold, cutting one he usually wears. Something smaller. Softer. Almost sad.

“You are our friend, sweetheart,” he says quietly. His voice is low enough that the others have to strain to hear, but they do. The room quiets around the words like they’re something fragile. You blink. Throat tight. Sunghoon’s thumb brushes your cheekbone once, barely there.

“We fucked this up from the start,” he continues, softer still. “We saw you walk through that door looking like you were ready to bolt at the first wrong move… and we made sure every move was wrong. On purpose.” His gaze drops to where his hand still rests against your skin. “Thought it’d be easier if you hated us. If you left on your own. If we never had to admit we wanted you to stay for more than just—”

He stops. Swallows. “—for more than just the easy parts.” The confession hangs there, heavy and unpolished. Jake’s head is still in your lap; he’s gone unnaturally still, staring up at the ceiling like he’s afraid to interrupt. Jay’s thumb has paused on your ankle.

Heeseung sets his coffee down. Slowly. You look around at them, all four, and for the first time you see it: the guilt. Not performative. Not a tactic. Real. Raw. Sitting under their skin like a bruise they’ve been ignoring. Sunghoon’s hand finally drops from your face, but he doesn’t move away.

“We’re not asking for forgiveness,” he says. “We don’t deserve it. Not yet. But we’re not gonna keep treating you like—” He exhales through his nose. “—like you’re disposable. Not anymore.” Silence stretches. Then Jake, sweet, chaotic Jake, breaks it by pressing the softest kiss to the inside of your wrist.

“Friends can still cuddle, right?” he mumbles against your skin. “Because I’m not moving. My head’s too comfy.” A tiny, surprised laugh bubbles out of you. Jay squeezes your calf once. “We’ve got time,” he says simply. “No rush. No rules today.”

Heeseung leans forward, elbows on his knees. “Tell us what you want,” he says. “Right now. Anything. We’ll listen.” You look at them, really look. The assholes who printed rules on the fridge. The ones who marked you, used you, laughed while they did it. The ones who just spent an entire day proving they know how to be gentle when they choose to be. You swallow.

“I want…” Your voice is small at first. Then steadier. “I want to believe you.” Sunghoon’s eyes soften. “Then we’ll keep showing you,” he says. “Until you do.”

Jake nuzzles closer into your lap like a cat claiming territory. Jay resumes the slow massage on your ankle. Heeseung picks up the remote, queues up some mindless comedy you’ve all seen a hundred times.

And Sunghoon, quiet, beautiful, regretful Sunghoon, leans in just enough to rest his forehead against your temple. “Friends,” he whispers again. Like a promise.

Like a beginning. The afternoon bleeds into evening. No one fucks you. No one even tries. They just stay. Laughing. Joking. Touching you like you matter. And for the first time since you moved in, you let yourself lean into it.

Just a little. Just enough to see what happens when the rules stop mattering and the people start to.

The apartment feels different when the others are gone, quieter, yes, but not the hollow kind of quiet that echoes off the walls. It’s softer, warmer, like the whole space exhales once Heeseung, Jay, and Sunghoon finally slip out the door with their jackets half-zipped and promises of “real food” still lingering in the air. Twenty minutes ago they each pressed a kiss to your forehead, Heeseung’s lingering the longest, his thumb sweeping slow circles over your cheekbone as if he still couldn’t quite believe you were letting all four of them stay, Jay’s quick and teasing with a wink, Sunghoon’s almost shy, lips brushing your skin like a secret. They told Jake to behave, and the second the door clicked shut behind them, Jake’s grin turned wicked, golden-retriever energy dialed up to eleven, like the instruction itself was foreplay.

He’s been orbiting you ever since, turning half-hearted chores into an excuse to stay glued to your side. You’re folding laundry on the couch, and he keeps “helping” by snatching shirts out of your hands just to hold them up like trophies before tossing them back in a messy pile. In the kitchen he hip-checks you every time you reach for a dish towel, laughing low and bright when you swat at his chest. The late-afternoon sun pours through the big windows in thick golden slabs, catching on the fine hairs of his arms, turning his skin warm and honeyed. You’re both a little sweaty from moving around, the faint scent of his cologne, something clean, mixing with the laundry detergent and the leftover smell of last night’s fried chicken still clinging to the air. 

“You’re terrible at this,” you say, watching him wrestle a fitted sheet into something that vaguely resembles a rectangle. The elastic corners keep snapping back at him like they have a personal grudge.

Jake flashes that devastating, all-teeth smile, eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’m excellent at distractions. Watch this, baby.”

Before you can protest, he shakes the sheet out with dramatic flair, like a matador taunting a bull, then whips it over both your heads in one smooth motion. The world narrows instantly to white cotton filtered sunlight, the fabric draping around you like a private tent. You’re both laughing before you can stop it, deep, helpless belly laughs that make your ribs ache and your eyes water. The sheet muffles everything, turning the sound intimate and close. Jake’s body is right there, heat radiating off him, chest brushing yours with every breathless chuckle. He tugs you deeper under the fabric, arms wrapping loosely around your waist, and suddenly the playful game shifts. His nose nudges yours. You feel the brush of his lashes against your cheek. The laughter fades into something heavier, warmer, the air between you thickening like honey.

“See?” he murmurs, voice low and rougher now. “Masterclass in procrastination.”

You roll your eyes, but your hands are already sliding up his chest, fingers curling into the soft cotton of his t-shirt. You don’t push him away. You pull him closer.

The sheet eventually slips to the floor in a crumpled heap, forgotten. You move down the hallway together, the basket of clean clothes balanced on your hip, Jake trailing so close his fingers keep ghosting the small of your back. You bend over to grab a stray sock that’s escaped onto the floor, nothing exaggerated, just a natural lean, your thin cotton shorts riding up just enough to expose the curve where thigh meets hip. Behind you, Jake sucks in a sharp, punched-out breath, like the sight physically winds him.

You freeze.

His hand settles on your hip, palm broad and hot, fingers spreading wide over the soft flesh through the fabric. Not a slap, not a grope. Just… claiming. Resting there with deliberate weight, thumb stroking a slow, lazy circle that makes your skin prickle. You feel every callus on his fingertips, the faint tremble in his touch like he’s fighting the urge to squeeze harder. Heat blooms low in your belly, liquid and slow.

You straighten up slowly, deliberately, and his hand stays glued to you, sliding with the motion so it ends up cupping the full cheek. He turns you around with the gentlest pressure on your hip, like you’re made of glass he’s terrified of cracking. Your back meets the cool wall of the hallway with a soft thud. Jake crowds in immediately, but not aggressively, his body cages you without trapping, one forearm braced beside your head, the other hand still kneading your ass with slow, possessive squeezes that make your breath hitch.

His eyes have gone dark, almost black, pupils blown wide. Not the usual playful hunger. Something deeper. Hungrier. Worshipful.

“Hey,” he breathes, voice gravel-rough. “You good? Still with me?” You nod, small and shaky, because the air has turned thick, syrupy, every inhale dragging like molasses. Your nipples are already tight against your shirt, and you know he can see it. He leans in like he’s giving you every chance to stop him. The first kiss is feather-light, barely a brush of lips, testing, asking. You answer by tilting your head, parting your mouth just enough, tongue flicking out to taste him. That’s all the permission he needs.

Jake kisses you like he’s been starving for it since the day you moved in, like every shared glance and late-night movie marathon has been foreplay leading to this exact second. Slow. So fucking slow. His lips are plush and warm, sliding against yours with wet, deliberate pressure. He sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, tongue tracing the seam until you open wider, then he licks inside, deep, lazy strokes that map every inch of you like he’s memorizing the taste. You moan softly into his mouth and he answers with a low, guttural groan that vibrates straight down to your clit. His hand on your ass tightens, pulling you flush against him so you can feel exactly how hard he already is, thick, heavy ridge straining against his sweatpants, pressing right against your lower belly.

One of his hands cradles your jaw, thumb stroking your cheekbone while the other slides up under your shirt, palm flat and scorching against the bare skin of your stomach. He doesn’t rush. His fingers splay wide, stroking up your ribs, tracing the underside of your breasts with reverent touches. When his thumb finally brushes over your nipple, already pebbled and aching, he circles it slowly, pinching just hard enough to make you gasp and arch into him. He swallows the sound, kissing you deeper, tongue fucking into your mouth in filthy, rhythmic strokes that mimic exactly what you wish his cock was doing somewhere else.

You’re grinding on his thigh now, small, helpless rolls of your hips that drag your soaked pussy along the hard muscle. The thin fabric of your shorts is useless; you can feel how wet you’ve gotten, the slickness coating your inner thighs, probably leaving a damp spot on his sweats. Jake breaks the kiss only to drag his open mouth down your jaw, sucking wet, open-mouthed kisses along your neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin just below your ear. He bites down gently, then soothes it with his tongue, leaving faint red marks that bloom under his lips. You tilt your head back against the wall, exposing more of your throat, and he takes full advantage, licking a hot stripe down to your collarbone, sucking hard enough that you know there’ll be bruises tomorrow, little purple galaxies only the four of them will see.

“Fuck, you taste so fucking good,” he groans against your skin, voice wrecked. “Sweet. Like you’ve been waiting for me to do this all day.”

His hand leaves your breast only to slide down, cupping your pussy through your shorts. He doesn’t push inside, just rubs the heel of his palm in slow, firm circles right over your clit, feeling how soaked the fabric is. You whimper, hips jerking, and he chuckles darkly into your neck.

“Yeah? That feel good, baby? You’re dripping for me already.”

You can’t answer with words, just a broken moan as two of his fingers slip under the hem of your shorts, tracing your slick folds without pushing in, spreading your wetness up to your clit and rubbing tight, teasing circles. Your hands are frantic now, one fisted in his hair, the other palming the thick length of his cock through his sweats, squeezing and stroking him until he’s panting against your mouth, hips twitching like he’s fighting not to rut into your hand.

You kiss for what feels like hours, messy, spit-slick, tongues tangled and sliding. Your lips are swollen and tingling, jaw aching in the best way. He keeps breaking away only to come right back, sucking on your tongue, biting your bottom lip, whispering filthy little praises between kisses.

“So fucking pretty when you’re desperate like this… making those sweet little sounds for me… gonna ruin me, baby, you know that?”

Your legs are trembling. He notices, always notices, and presses his thigh harder between yours, letting you ride it properly now, the friction perfect and relentless. His fingers keep working your clit in lazy strokes, dipping just inside your entrance to gather more slick before sliding back up, never giving you enough to come, just keeping you right on the edge, trembling and whimpering into his mouth.

When he finally pulls back, forehead resting against yours, both of you are breathing like you’ve run miles, chests heaving, lips shiny and red, his hair a complete mess from your fingers. His eyes are glassy, cheeks flushed, cock throbbing visibly against your palm.

“Shit,” he laughs, breathless and shaky. “I didn’t mean to… fuck, I just—”

You cut him off with another kiss, slow, deep, pouring everything you’re feeling into it. When you pull away, you whisper against his swollen lips, “I know. I wanted it too.”

He smiles, that crooked, boyish, heart-stopping smile, and kisses the tip of your nose, then your forehead, then pulls you tight into his chest. His arms wrap around you completely, one hand still cupping your ass possessively, the other stroking soothing circles up and down your spine. You can feel his heart hammering against yours, his cock still hard and insistent between you, but he doesn’t push. Doesn’t grind. Just holds you there in the hallway, the distant hum of the fridge and the faint city traffic the only sounds left.

You stay like that for a long, indulgent stretch of minutes, bodies pressed together, breaths syncing, the ache between your legs still pulsing but somehow perfectly satisfied by the simple fact of being wrapped up in him. His lips brush your temple.

“Friends can make out, right?” he murmurs, echoing the joke from earlier, voice warm with affection and something deeper.

You laugh softly against his chest, the sound muffled and content. “Yeah, Jake. Friends can definitely make out.”

And for now, for this golden, sun-drenched afternoon, that’s more than enough. The others will be back soon, but right now the apartment is yours and his, and he just keeps holding you like he never wants to let go.

The hallway still smells faintly of Jake’s cologne, clean and warm skin, and the soft, powdery scent of laundry detergent clinging to the crumpled clothes you never quite finished putting away. His lips are swollen and glossy from the long, lazy make-out against the wall, cheeks flushed a deep pink, pupils blown so wide the pretty hazel is almost gone. He’s breathing hard through his nose, forehead pressed to yours like he needs the contact to stay grounded, hands still shoved up under your shirt, palms hot and broad against the small of your back, thumbs tracing slow, idle arcs that make your spine tingle.

“Fuck,” he whispers, voice wrecked and soft all at once, raw like he’s been shouting your name for hours even though he hasn’t. “I need you on me, princess. Need to feel that pretty pussy sliding down my cock right fucking now.”

The words drop straight into your belly, heavy and molten. You swallow hard, thighs pressing together on instinct, and he feels the tiny clench, grins against the side of your neck, boyish and filthy at the same time.

He doesn’t beg. Doesn’t grab. Just brushes his mouth over the shell of your ear, hot breath ghosting, voice a low rasp that curls straight between your legs.

“Ride me. Please. On the couch. Slow. Let me feel every inch of you taking me like you own it.”

Your cunt throbs at the plea. You nod before you even realize you’re doing it.

Jake laces his fingers through yours, gentle, almost sweet, and leads you back down the hall like you’re going for a Sunday stroll, not about to fuck him stupid in the middle of the living room. The late-afternoon light has shifted, pouring across the big sectional in thick, golden rivers; the cushions are still dented from earlier folding sessions, the air warm and lazy. He drops onto the couch first, sprawling wide, legs splayed, grey sweats already tented, the thick outline of his cock straining against the fabric like it’s trying to escape.

He then hooks his fingers against the edge of your shorts and drags them down, along with your panties. His eyes darken as he gulps and looks up at you.

He pats his thigh once, slow, inviting, eyes locked on yours with that crooked, heart-melting grin.

You don’t hesitate. You climb on, knees sinking into the cushions on either side of his hips, and the first slow grind of your bare, soaked cunt against the hard, hot length of him through the thin material rips a twin hiss from both your throats. You’re dripping, have been since he pinned you to the hallway wall, and the fabric is already darkening under you, slick. Jake’s hands settle on your hips, not guiding yet, just holding, thumbs stroking the skin right above the waistband of your shorts like he’s memorizing the feel of you.

You start slow. Torturously slow. Tiny, rolling rocks of your hips that drag your swollen clit along the rigid ridge of his cock again and again. The friction is perfect, wet, hot, teasing. Every pass makes the fabric cling tighter, the head of his dick bumping right where you need it. Jake’s head falls back against the couch, throat working on a low, broken groan, Adam’s apple bobbing.

“Goddamn, baby… look at you. Already so fucking wet you’re soaking through my sweats. That little pussy weeping for me.”

You giggle, breathless, giddy, almost embarrassed at how turned on you are, and lean down to kiss him. Soft at first, just lips brushing, then deeper: tongues sliding lazy and messy, tasting the faint salt of his skin and the sweetness of the iced americano he had earlier. His hands slide back under your shirt, palms scalding against your ribs, thumbs circling the undersides of your breasts in slow, reverent strokes until your nipples are tight, aching peaks. He pinches them gently, rolls them between thumb and forefinger, and you arch into his touch with a whimper that makes him smile against your mouth.

“You’re so fucking soft,” he mumbles between kisses, voice thick. “So perfect. Been dreaming about this tight little cunt wrapped around me since the second you walked through that door and smiled at all of us like we hung the moon. Gonna let me feel it now, princess? Gonna sit on my cock and ride me nice and slow?”

You lift just enough to shove his sweats down his thighs. His cock springs free, thick, flushed dark, veins standing out, the tip already glistening with a fat bead of pre-cum that streaks down the shaft when you wrap your fingers around him. One slow, firm stroke from base to head has him groaning, hips twitching up into your fist. You line him up, notch the blunt head against your dripping entrance, and sink down.

The first inch is heaven.

You both moan, long, filthy sounds, as he stretches you open, thick and hot and perfect, splitting you so deliciously slow you feel every ridge, every vein. Your mouth falls open, eyes fluttering shut. He bottoms out with your ass flush to his thighs, balls pressed tight against you, and the fullness is so overwhelming your walls flutter around him like you’re already close.

“Fuuuuck,” Jake breathes, hands flexing hard on your hips, fingers digging in just enough to bruise. “That’s it. Take every fucking inch, princess. Look at you, swallowing me like you were made for it. So goddamn tight and wet and perfect.”

You start riding him properly, long, deliberate lifts and sinks, rolling your hips on every downstroke so your clit grinds against his pelvis. The sounds of your cunt taking him echo in the quiet apartment: slick, filthy squelches every time you drop down, his cock glistening with your arousal when you rise. Jake’s eyes are glued to where you’re joined, watching himself disappear inside you over and over with something like awe.

“Listen to that,” he groans, voice cracking. “That sloppy little sound every time you take me. You’re dripping down my balls, baby, making such a pretty mess all over me. Gonna stain the couch and I don’t even care.”

You bury your face in his neck for a second, flushed and turned on beyond words, then bite down on the skin there, light, teasing. He jolts, cock twitching hard inside you, and groans louder.

“Fuck, do that again. Mark me up, princess. Want the others to see who got to have you first.”

You do, sucking a faint pink bloom into his throat while you ride him harder, faster, breasts bouncing under your thin shirt. His mouth finds your nipple through the fabric, sucking hard, teeth grazing, soaking the cotton until it’s transparent and clinging. You cry out, high and needy, hips snapping down faster now, chasing the heat coiling tighter and tighter in your belly.

Jake’s losing it beautifully, head thrown back, throat exposed, hands gripping your ass and spreading you wider so he can watch every inch of his cock sliding in and out of your greedy cunt.

“Shit, ride it harder, baby. Fuck yourself on me. Use my cock like the greedy little slut you are. Come all over it, wanna feel this pussy milk me dry.”

The filthy words spoken in that sweet, reverent tone send you spiraling. You slam down harder, clit grinding relentlessly, thighs burning. He slides one hand between you, thumb finding your swollen clit and rubbing fast, firm circles.

“Come on, princess. Give it to me. Soak my cock. Make it messy. Wanna feel you gush.”

You shatter with a broken cry, head thrown back, back arching, clamping down around him in hard, pulsing waves. Your vision whites out. Thighs shake violently. You gush around him, slick flooding out around his base, soaking his balls and the couch beneath you. Jake swears, low and guttural, hips stuttering up once, twice, burying himself to the hilt as he comes, thick, hot ropes of cum painting your walls, filling you so full it leaks out immediately around his throbbing length.

He holds you flush against him through every aftershock, arms banded tight around your waist, forehead pressed to your collarbone, breathing ragged and shaky. You stay like that, sweaty, trembling, his softening cock still buried deep inside you, cum slowly trickling out, while he kisses your shoulder, your neck, the corner of your mouth with soft, lazy presses.

“Best fucking ride of my life,” he mumbles, voice hoarse and sated, nuzzling into your hair.

You laugh, soft, spent, glowing, and nuzzle back. “Friends can do that too, right?”

He chuckles, kissing your temple. “Friends can do whatever the fuck they want.” You’re still seated on him, his cock twitching occasionally inside your cum-filled pussy, when the front door clicks open.

Neither of you moves fast enough. Sunghoon steps in first, grocery bags dangling from one hand, keys in the other, the faint scent of fresh produce and restaurant takeout wafting in with him. He freezes mid-step. Eyes lock on the scene: you straddling Jake on the couch, shirt rucked up to your collarbones, thighs spread obscenely wide, Jake’s cock still half-hard and buried inside you, thick white cum already leaking in slow, creamy rivulets down his balls and onto the cushion.

The bags hit the floor with a heavy, forgotten thud. A carton of eggs probably cracks, but no one cares. Sunghoon’s jaw tightens so hard you hear the sharp click of his teeth. His eyes, usually cool and calm, go black, dangerous, glittering with something possessive and furious.

“What. The. Fuck.”

His voice is ice wrapped in velvet. Low. Deadly calm. Jake startles, arms tightening around you protectively, but he doesn’t dare pull out. Doesn’t even try to cover you.

“Hyung—wait, it’s not—”

Sunghoon crosses the room in three long strides, towering over both of you. He doesn’t yell. Doesn’t shove Jake. Just reaches down, grips your chin between thumb and forefinger, firm, not bruising, and tilts your face up to meet his gaze. His thumb drags slow and deliberate across your bottom lip, then presses inside. You suck instinctively, tongue swirling around the digit, tasting the faint salt of his skin.

His eyes flick to Jake, cold as winter.

“Get out from under her. Now.”

Jake hesitates half a second. Sunghoon’s voice drops even lower, lethal.

“I said now.”

Jake lifts you carefully with a wet, filthy sound that makes Sunghoon’s nostrils flare. The moment he slips free, a thick gush of his cum pours out of you, sliding down your inner thighs in white trails. Jake stays seated on the couch, chest heaving as he watches warily.

Sunghoon never looks away from you. He steps closer, one hand sliding to the nape of your neck, thumb pressing right over your racing pulse, while the other grips your hip hard enough to anchor you. “You let him fuck you the second we walked out the door?” he murmurs, voice velvet and venom, lips brushing your ear. “Spread this pretty pussy for whoever was home first? Without waiting for me? Without even texting?”

You shake your head, small, instinctive, breath caught in your throat. “No?”

He leans in closer, breath hot against your skin. “Then why the fuck are you stuffed so full of him, hmm?”

Two of his long fingers dip between your thighs without warning, sliding deep into your cum-slick cunt with a wet squelch. You gasp, knees buckling. He curls them slowly, deliberately, scissoring, feeling the warm, sticky mess Jake left behind, pushing it deeper before dragging it out again. When he pulls his fingers free they’re coated thick and white. He holds them up between you, shiny, dripping, then brings them to your mouth.

“Clean.”

You open obediently. Suck his fingers clean, tongue swirling, tasting yourself and Jake and the faint metallic tang of Sunghoon’s skin, moaning around them while he watches with dark, unblinking eyes.

“Good girl,” he praises, voice low and rough. Then, suddenly, he yanks you forward by the neck and kisses you, hard, possessive, teeth clashing, tongue fucking into your mouth like he’s erasing every trace of Jake’s kisses. When he pulls back his lips are wet, eyes blazing with jealousy and hunger.

“Bedroom. Now.”

He doesn’t wait for you to walk. Just scoops you up like you weigh nothing, your legs wrapping around his waist, arms around his neck, cum still dripping down your thighs and onto his shirt. Jake scrambles up and follows, sweats tugged up haphazardly.

Sunghoon kicks the bedroom door shut behind the three of you with a bang that rattles the frame. He drops you onto the bed, gentle enough not to hurt, rough enough that you bounce, thighs splaying open automatically. He looms over you, tall and broad and radiating controlled fury.

“Strip. Everything off. Let me see exactly what he got to play with while I was gone.”

You obey instantly, tugging your shirt over your head, shoving your shorts down, kicking them aside until you’re completely bare, pussy puffy and glistening.

His gaze rakes over every inch of you, slow, possessive, furious, hungry. He licks his lips. “You’re mine tonight, princess. All fucking mine. And you’re going to feel exactly who this cunt belongs to until you can’t remember anyone else’s name.”

He glances at Jake, standing frozen by the door, eyes wide and cock twitching in his sweats.

“You can watch,” Sunghoon says coldly, voice like a blade. “But you don’t touch. Not until I say so. You sit there and watch me take back what’s mine.”

Jake swallows hard. Nods once. Sinks into the chair in the corner, hand already palming himself through his sweats like he can’t help it.

Sunghoon turns back to you. Grabs your thighs in both hands and spreads them wide, wide enough that your folds spread, dripping. He lowers his head slowly, eyes locked on yours the entire time.

The first long, vicious swipe of his tongue through your folds is punishing, hot, wet, claiming, licking every drop of Jake’s cum straight out of you like he’s erasing the evidence. You arch off the bed with a sharp cry, hands flying to his hair. Sunghoon doesn’t stop. He eats you like a man starved, tongue fucking deep inside your cum-filled hole, sucking noisily, swallowing every filthy mix of you and Jake with low, possessive growls that vibrate straight to your clit. He sucks your swollen folds into his mouth, tongue flicking mercilessly over your clit, then dives back in to lap at the creamy mess still oozing out of you.

You’re moaning, loud, broken, shameless, hips grinding against his face while he devours you, chin and lips shiny with cum and your fresh slick. He pulls back just long enough to growl against your thigh,

“Gonna lick every last drop of him out of this pussy until it only tastes like me. And then I’m going to fuck you so deep you’ll still feel me tomorrow when the others take their turns.”

His mouth seals back over your clit, sucking hard, two fingers plunging deep, and the jealousy is only just beginning.

The bedroom is thick with the sounds of Sunghoon’s mouth devouring you, long, filthy drags of his tongue through your cum-slick folds, sucking Jake’s release out of your fluttering hole like he’s personally insulted by every drop. He’s relentless, humming low against your clit, two fingers curled deep inside you, scissoring and stroking that spongy spot that makes your thighs quake around his ears. Your back is arched off the bed, hands fisted in his dark hair, moans spilling out broken and shameless as another orgasm teeters right on the edge.

Then the door bangs open.

Heeseung fills the frame like a storm cloud, broad shoulders tight, jaw locked, one hand fisted in the back of Jake’s t-shirt. Jake looks wrecked already: lips kiss-swollen, cheeks flushed crimson, cock still half-hard and shiny with your slick, the cocky little grin from earlier completely wiped away. Heeseung doesn’t even glance at you at first. His voice is low, calm, the kind of calm that makes the air feel heavier.

“Living room. Now.”

Jake opens his mouth, probably to whine, to joke, to try and charm his way out of it, but Heeseung’s grip tightens, fabric stretching across Jake’s shoulders. Jake stumbles forward instead, casting one last wide-eyed look at you before they disappear down the hall. The living-room door shuts with a soft, deliberate click that somehow feels louder than a slam.

You’re left panting, chest heaving, Sunghoon’s tongue still lazily circling your clit like the interruption was nothing more than background noise. He presses one last open-mouthed kiss to your dripping pussy, then pulls back slowly, lips glossy, chin glistening with a messy mix of you and Jake. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, slow and deliberate, eyes dark and glittering with dark amusement as he rises to his knees between your spread thighs.

“Looks like someone earned himself a timeout,” he murmurs, voice velvet-rough, thumb brushing a lazy stripe up your inner thigh to collect the fresh slick still leaking out of you. His gaze flicks toward the hallway, then back to your flushed, trembling body. “Guess that leaves the three of us to remind you exactly how this works, princess.”

Jay appears in the doorway a heartbeat later, arms crossed over his chest, shoulder propped against the frame, eyes raking over you with that cool, assessing hunger that always makes your stomach flip. He takes his time stepping inside, shutting the door behind him with a quiet snick, the lock clicking into place like a promise.

You try to push yourself up on your elbows, instinct, nerves, the sudden awareness of how exposed and messy you are, but Sunghoon’s large hand plants flat on your sternum and pushes you right back down into the mattress. Firm. Unyielding. Possessive.

“Stay right there,” he says softly, almost sweet, but the edge underneath it makes your cunt clench around nothing. “We’re not done with you yet.”

Jay stops at the foot of the bed, looking down at the obscene picture you make: completely naked, skin flushed pink, thighs shiny with slick and cum, nipples tight and begging, pussy puffy and still leaking. He reaches out, fingers threading through the hair at your scalp, tightening until your breath hitches. He yanks your head back just enough to expose the long line of your throat, thumb stroking once over your racing pulse.

“You let him fuck you raw the second we left,” Jay says, voice low and dangerously even. “Without asking. Without waiting. Without even a text to let us know our pretty little slut was getting her cunt filled.”

His free hand slides down your body, possessive, claiming, cupping your soaked pussy like it belongs to him. Two thick fingers push inside without warning, rough and deep, curling hard against that spot that makes white sparks burst behind your eyes. You cry out, hips jerking, walls fluttering greedily around the intrusion.

Sunghoon watches with a mean little smile, one hand lazily stroking his own thick cock. “This pussy,” Jay continues, voice dropping to a growl as he pumps his fingers faster, “is ours. All of ours. You don’t get to decide who fills it first when we’re not here. Understand?”

You nod frantically, tears of overwhelming pleasure already pricking your eyes. “Y-yes—fuck—yes, it’s yours—”

Sunghoon’s hand replaces Jay’s on your throat, long fingers wrapping around the column, squeezing just enough to make the edges of your vision sparkle and your cunt gush around Jay’s fingers. Not cutting off air. Just reminding you who’s in control.

“Good girl,” Sunghoon breathes against your ear, leaning down to bite your earlobe. “Now prove it.”

They move like they’ve choreographed this a hundred times in their heads.

Jay flips you onto your stomach in one smooth motion, face pressed into the sheets that already smell like sex, ass up high, back arched deep. He keeps one hand fisted tight in your hair, yanking your head back until your spine bends in that perfect, aching curve. Sunghoon shoves your thighs wider apart, knees sinking into the mattress as he kneels behind you. His cock is flushed dark, angry, veins throbbing, pre-cum beading at the tip as he lines up and slams in, deep, brutal, one single punishing thrust that punches the air straight out of your lungs.

You scream into the sheets, the stretch burning so good it borders on too much. Sunghoon doesn’t give you time to adjust. He sets a ruthless pace immediately, hips snapping forward, balls slapping wetly against your clit with every brutal drive, the wet squelch of your cum-filled pussy echoing obscenely. Jay releases your hair only to wrap his hand around your throat from the front instead, squeezing in perfect time with Sunghoon’s thrusts, thumb pressing under your jaw so you feel every heartbeat.

“Take it,” Jay growls, voice rough with arousal. “Every fucking inch. You wanted cock so bad you couldn’t even wait for all of us? Then you’re gonna take everything we give you, princess. Gonna let us ruin this greedy little hole until you remember who it belongs to.”

Sunghoon leans over your back, chest slick with sweat against your spine, one hand fisting your hair now while the other reaches around to slap your clit, sharp, stinging little taps that make you clench and sob. Jay’s free hand comes down hard on your ass, once, twice, three times, each smack leaving a bright red handprint that blooms hot across your skin.

“Whose pussy is this?” Jay demands, voice low and filthy.

“Yours—” you sob, voice cracking. “Yours—fuck—yours—Sunghoon—Jay—please—”

Sunghoon yanks your head back harder, lips brushing your ear as he pounds into you. “Say it louder. Let the whole fucking apartment hear who owns this cunt.”

The rhythmic slap of skin on skin, your choked moans, Sunghoon’s low possessive growls—“This tight little pussy is fucking mine”—carry clearly down the hallway.

In the living room, Heeseung has Jake pinned against the wall by the collar, fist raised, knuckles white with restraint. The first muffled scream from the bedroom makes them both freeze. Then another, higher, broken, needy. The unmistakable wet slap of Sunghoon’s hips. Jay’s dark chuckle. Your desperate, gagged whimpers around whatever they’re doing to your mouth now.

Heeseung’s fist slowly lowers. Jake’s eyes go wide, cock twitching visibly in his sweats.

Heeseung turns toward the bedroom door, expression unreadable but eyes burning.

Then they’re both moving, fast. 

They burst through the door just as Sunghoon buries himself to the hilt with a guttural groan. You’re a complete wreck: face down, ass up, drool slipping from the corner of your mouth, tears streaking your cheeks, ass glowing red from Jay’s handprints, cunt stretched obscenely around Sunghoon’s thick cock, creamy cum from Jake and your own slick coating your thighs.

Heeseung stops at the foot of the bed, takes one long, possessive look at the scene, then climbs on without a word. 

“Move,” he tells Sunghoon, voice low and lethal.

Sunghoon slows just enough to pull out with a wet, filthy pop, thick strings of cum and slick connecting his cock to your gaping hole. Heeseung grabs your hips, flips you onto your back like you weigh nothing, and hooks your legs over his arms, folding you in half until your knees are by your ears. He lines up and slams in, harder, deeper, angrier than Sunghoon, bottoming out in one brutal thrust that makes you scream his name.

Jay pulls back from where he’d been feeding you his cock, letting you gasp for air, then moves behind you. Sunghoon shifts to your side, hand wrapping around your throat again, thumb stroking your pulse almost tenderly now.

Jay presses the blunt head of his cock against your ass, already slick from the mess dripping down, and pushes in slow, relentless, the burn intense and overwhelming as he stretches you open around him. Heeseung stays buried to the hilt in your pussy, holding perfectly still while Jay sinks deeper, until both of them are fully seated inside you, rubbing against each other through the thin wall, filling you so completely you can feel them in your throat.

You’re sobbing, overwhelmed, stretched to your limit, pleasure so sharp it hurts, in the best possible way.

“Breathe, baby,” Sunghoon murmurs, voice softer now, fingers loosening just enough on your throat. “You’re taking us so fucking well. Such a good girl for us.”

They start moving, slow at first, testing, letting you adjust to the impossible fullness. Then harder. Deeper. Alternating thrusts, Heeseung driving in while Jay pulls out, Jay slamming home while Heeseung retreats, until the rhythm syncs and they’re both fucking into you at the same time, stretching you open on two thick cocks with every synchronized thrust.

Jake stands frozen by the door, cock rock-hard again, hand wrapped tight around it, stroking himself slow and desperate, eyes wide and glassy with guilt and raw arousal. Sunghoon notices. His voice cuts through the wet sounds of flesh. “Watch, Jake. You started this. Now you get to watch how we remind her exactly who she belongs to.”

Jay’s fingers find your swollen, oversensitive clit, rubbing fast, rough circles that make your vision spark white.

“Come,” he orders, voice rough. “Come on both our cocks. Milk us. Show us who this perfect body belongs to.”

You shatter harder than you ever have, screaming, back bowing, spasming violently around both cocks, gushing slick down Heeseung’s shaft as your orgasm rips through you in endless waves. Heeseung comes first with a deep, broken growl of your name, flooding your pussy with hot, thick pulses. Jay follows seconds later, burying himself deep in your ass and filling you with rope after rope until it leaks out around his base. Sunghoon strokes himself twice, fast and rough, then spills across your stomach and tits in long, creamy stripes, marking you visibly.

They don’t pull out right away.

Just stay buried deep inside you, panting, sweating, chests heaving, holding you between them like something precious and thoroughly, beautifully ruined.

Heeseung leans down first, pressing a surprisingly soft kiss to your tear-streaked cheek. “Mine,” he whispers against your skin.

Jay echoes it against your shoulder, lips brushing the fresh bite mark Sunghoon left earlier. “Mine.”

Sunghoon’s fingers loosen completely on your throat, turning into gentle strokes along your jaw. “Mine too, princess. Always.”

You’re trembling, wrecked, full to overflowing, claimed in every possible way. And Jake, still standing by the door, cock leaking in his fist, eyes shiny with regret and desperate need, looks like he’s never wanted forgiveness more in his life.

The entire room smells like sex and sweat and something deeper, something dangerously close to devotion. None of them move to let you go. Not yet.

The room is thick with the aftermath, sweat, sex, the faint metallic tang of overstimulation hanging in the air like smoke. Your body feels liquid and heavy, every muscle spent, every inch of skin marked in some way: fingerprints blooming on your hips, faint red lines from Sunghoon’s grip on your throat, the slow leak of them all still inside you, warm and obscene between your thighs.

No one moves right away.

Heeseung is the first to shift. He eases out of you carefully, slow, deliberate, hissing softly at the drag. Jay follows, pulling out with the same measured gentleness, both of them watching your face for any flicker of pain. Sunghoon’s hand leaves your throat last, fingers trailing down your sternum in a soothing path before he sits back on his heels.

You’re trembling, small, involuntary shivers that ripple through you like aftershocks. Jay notices first. He reaches over the side of the bed, grabs the soft throw blanket that’s been kicked to the floor sometime in the last hour. Drapes it over your lower half, tucking it around your waist like he’s wrapping something fragile.

“Easy,” he murmurs. Voice low, rough from use. “We’ve got you.”

Heeseung slides off the bed, still naked, still glistening, and disappears into the en-suite bathroom. Water runs. A minute later he returns with two warm, damp cloths. One for your face, one for between your legs.

He kneels beside you. Presses the cloth to your cheek first, gentle swipes over tear tracks, then your swollen lips. You lean into it without thinking. Heeseung’s free hand cups the back of your head, thumb stroking the base of your skull in slow circles.

Sunghoon moves to your other side. Takes the second cloth from Heeseung when he’s done with your face. Parts your thighs carefully, murmurs a soft “shh” when you flinch at the cool air, and cleans you with careful strokes. Between your folds, down your thighs, over the sticky mess on your stomach and chest. He’s thorough. Patient. Every pass of the cloth feels like an apology he doesn’t know how to say out loud.

Jake is still hovering near the door, shirtless now, sweats low on his hips, looking like he’s not sure he’s allowed to come closer. Heeseung glances at him once. Sharp. Then softer.

“Water,” Heeseung says. Not an order. Just a word. Jake nods, quick, grateful, and bolts. Heeseung turns back to you.

“Can you sit up a little?” You nod, weak, but willing. Jay helps, arm around your shoulders, easing you against the headboard. Pillows get rearranged behind your back until you’re propped comfortably. The blanket stays tucked around your waist; someone (Sunghoon) pulls the sheet up to cover your chest without smothering you.

Jake returns with a tall glass of water and, somehow, a small tray he must have grabbed from the kitchen. On it: a bowl of cut fruit (strawberries, mango, grapes, someone’s idea of “recovery food”), a few pieces of the chocolate they keep stashed in the fridge, a packet of electrolyte powder already stirred into a second glass.

He sets it on the nightstand. Doesn’t try to climb on the bed yet. Just stands there, hands in his pockets, looking at you like you might vanish if he blinks.

Jay picks up a strawberry first. Holds it to your lips.

“Open.”

You do. The fruit is cold, sweet, bursting on your tongue. Jay feeds you slowly, another strawberry, then a piece of mango. His fingers brush your bottom lip each time, wiping away juice with his thumb.

Sunghoon takes over with the chocolate. Breaks off a small square, places it on your tongue. Watches you melt it slowly, eyes dark but soft.

“You did so good,” he says quietly. Almost to himself. “Took everything we gave you.”

Heeseung handles the water, holds the glass to your lips, tips it carefully so you can sip without spilling. When you’ve had enough, he sets it aside and wipes your mouth with the edge of the sheet.

Jake finally moves closer, slow, like he’s approaching something skittish. He perches on the very edge of the mattress.

“I’m sorry,” he says. Voice small. “For earlier. For not waiting. For—” Heeseung cuts him off with a look. Not angry. Tired.

“Later,” Heeseung says. “She needs rest now.” Jake nods. Swallows hard. Jay reaches over, squeezes Jake’s shoulder once, firm, forgiving, then turns back to you.

“More?” he asks, nodding at the tray.

You shake your head. Full. Heavy-lidded. The ache between your legs has dulled to a low, satisfied throb; your limbs feel like warm honey.

Sunghoon takes the tray away. Sets it on the dresser.

Heeseung pulls the covers up higher, tucking them around your shoulders, smoothing the fabric over your chest. Jay adjusts the pillows again so you’re lying flat but elevated just enough. They surround you, four bodies, four sources of warmth, without crowding.

Heeseung lies on your left. Arm draped loosely over your waist. Not possessive. Protective. Jay on your right. Hand resting on your hip under the blanket. Thumb stroking idle arcs. Sunghoon stretches out at the foot of the bed, long legs hanging off the edge, head pillowed on your thigh like it’s the most natural place in the world.

Jake curls up against your legs, face tucked into the crook of your knee, one arm thrown over your shins like he’s anchoring himself there. No one speaks for a long minute. Just breathing. Slow. In sync.

Heeseung’s fingers find yours under the blanket. Laces them together. Squeezes once. “Sleep,” he murmurs against your temple. “We’re not going anywhere.”

Jay presses a kiss to your shoulder, soft, lingering. Sunghoon’s hand strokes down your calf, slow, soothing.

Jake mumbles something sleepy against your skin, too quiet to catch, but it feels like “thank you.” Your eyes flutter closed. The room smells like them, all of them, mixed with clean sheets and the faint sweetness of fruit. Just warm bodies. Gentle hands. Quiet promises. And the steady rhythm of four heartbeats lulling you under.

The idea starts innocently enough.

It’s been three days since the jealousy the three had that they claimed was just ‘heat of the moment’ but you knew better, and the apartment has settled into something dangerously close to domestic. Mornings are soft now, coffee passed hand-to-hand, lazy kisses traded over toast, rules quietly ignored unless someone’s feeling particularly mean. The fridge note is still taped up, but no one’s enforced them. It’s almost… normal.

Almost. Jay is the one who brings it up first. You’re sprawled across his lap on the sectional Sunday afternoon, legs tangled with Sunghoon’s, Jake’s head pillowed on your stomach while Heeseung scrolls through takeout apps from the armchair. Jay’s fingers are tracing idle patterns on your bare thigh, higher than friendly,lower than any action, when he says it.

“I want to take you out.”

The room stills. You lift your head from Jake’s hair. “Like… a date?” Jay’s mouth quirks. “Yeah. A date. Just you and me. Dinner. Somewhere nice. No roommates crashing.”

Sunghoon snorts without looking up from his phone. “Good luck with that.”

Heeseung glances over the top of his screen. “You’re asking permission?”

Jay shrugs. “I’m telling you. Friday night. She’s mine for the evening.”

Jake sits up slowly, blinking sleep from his eyes. “Wait—solo? Like, no sharing?”

Jay’s hand tightens on your thigh. “No sharing. One night. My rules.”

You feel the shift immediately, the air thickening with something possessive and unspoken. Heeseung’s jaw ticks once. Sunghoon finally looks up, eyes narrowing. Jake just pouts. But no one argues. Friday comes fast.

Jay picks the restaurant himself, small, upscale Italian place downtown. Dim lighting, velvet booths, candles that cost more than your old rent. He texts you the address at 6:45 p.m. sharp.

Jay: Wear something pretty baby ;) preferably no panties sweetheart

You roll your eyes at the winky face and the last obligation, but you obey anyway.

The dress is black, silk, short enough to make you nervous when you sit. Heels that click satisfyingly on the pavement. Hair down, lips red. When Jay arrives to pick you up, he stops dead in the doorway.

“Fuck,” he breathes. Steps close. Cups your face with both hands and kisses you slow, deep, claiming, tasting like mint and want. “You’re killing me.”

The drive is quiet. His hand rests high on your thigh the whole way, thumb stroking the inside seam, never quite reaching where you’re already wet. He doesn’t speak. Just smiles every time you squirm.

The restaurant is perfect.

A corner booth. Wine list thicker than a novel. Jay orders for both of you, pasta, seared scallops, tiramisu for later. His knee presses against yours under the table. His fingers brush yours when he passes the bread. It feels… romantic. Normal. Like you’re a real couple on a real date.

You’re laughing at some stupid story he’s telling about Sunghoon trying to cook once when the first text comes through.

Jake: picture of him pouting on the couch  

Jake: miss u already princess 😩

You snort. Show Jay. He rolls his eyes. “Ignore them.”

Another buzz.

Sunghoon: timestamped selfie, him shirtless in the kitchen, knife in hand, looking bored  

Sunghoon: hurry up. food’s getting cold here

Jay exhales through his nose. “They’re children.” Heeseung’s text is last.

Heeseung: Enjoy your date. We’ll behave.  

Heeseung: …mostly.

Your not sure what that means, you’re not sure if you want to find out. You laugh, soft, nervous, and slip your phone face-down. Jay reaches across the table. Takes your hand. Laces your fingers. “I meant it,” he says quietly. “Tonight’s just us. No crashing. No rules. Just you and me.”

You believe him. For about seven more minutes. The scallops arrive. Perfectly seared. You’re mid-bite when the restaurant door opens. And four familiar silhouettes step inside. Jake first, grinning like he invented mischief. Sunghoon behind him, hands in pockets, expression unreadable. Heeseung last, calm, collected, scanning the room until his eyes land on you.

Jay’s fork pauses halfway to his mouth.

“Motherfuckers,” he mutters.

They don’t hesitate. Jake slides into the booth beside you first, arm slung casually over the backrest, fingers immediately finding the nape of your neck. “Hey, princess. Fancy seeing you here.”

Sunghoon takes the seat next to Jay, long legs stretching out, forcing Jay to shift. “Nice place. Bit pretentious, though.”

Heeseung pulls up a chair from a nearby table, unapologetic, sits at the end like he owns the booth. “We were in the neighborhood.”

Jay’s jaw is so tight you’re worried it’ll crack.

“You said you would behave.”

Heeseung shrugs. “We are. We’re not fucking her on the table. Yet.”

Your face burns. Jake laughs, bright, delighted, leans in and kisses your cheek. Loud. Wet. “You look so pretty. Red lipstick’s a nice touch.”

Sunghoon reaches across Jay to steal a scallop off your plate. “He’s right. You do look fuckable.” Jay slams his fork down.

“That’s enough.” The table goes quiet.

Jay’s voice is low. Dangerous. “I said one night. Just me and her. You had your turns. Back off.”

Heeseung leans forward. Elbows on the table. “We’re not here to take her. We’re here to watch you try to have her all to yourself.” His gaze flicks to you, dark, heated. “And see how long it takes before she’s begging for the rest of us.”

Jake’s fingers tighten on your neck. “C’mon, hyung. Don’t be dramatic. We can share the appetizer.”

Sunghoon smirks. “Or the main course.”

You’re throbbing under the table. The silk dress feels too tight. The wine too warm in your veins. Jay looks at you, really looks. “Are you okay with this?”

You swallow. Meet his eyes. Then glance at the others. Then back to him. “I’m okay,” you whisper. “But… maybe we skip dessert here.”

Jay exhales, half-laugh, half-snarl. “Bathroom,” he says. “Now.” He stands. Pulls you up with him. The others don’t move. They just exchange knowing glances. Jake just grins. “We’ll keep watch.”

Jay drags you through the restaurant, hand firm on your lower back, past the bar, down the narrow hallway, into the single-stall bathroom at the end.

He locks the door. Spins you around. Pushes you forward until your palms slap the sink. The mirror is huge. You watch your own reflection, lips parted, chest heaving, dress already rucked up to your hips.

Jay’s behind you, fly open, cock hard and leaking. He doesn’t speak. Just yanks your dress higher, notches himself at your entrance, and thrusts in, hard. Deep. One brutal stroke that makes you cry out.

“Quiet,” he growls against your ear. Hand clamps over your mouth. “They can hear.” He fucks you like he’s proving a point. Fast. Rough. Hips snapping. The sink rattles. Your tits bounce with every thrust. His other hand fists your hair, yanks your head back so you’re watching yourself in the mirror.

“Look at you,” he pants. “Taking it so good. Even when they crash. Even when I try to keep you to myself.”

You moan into his palm, muffled, desperate.

He reaches around. Finds your clit. Pinches. Rolls. Hard.

“Come,” he orders. “Come on my cock before they barge in.”

You do, fast, violent, clenching around him so hard he swears. He follows seconds later, burying deep, spilling hot inside you with a choked groan.

He doesn’t pull out right away. Just holds you there, chest to your back,breathing ragged. Then he kisses your shoulder. Soft. Apologetic. “Sorry,” he murmurs. “Couldn’t help it.” You laugh, shaky, wrecked.

He pulls out slowly. Fixes your dress. Wipes between your thighs with paper towels from the dispenser. When you open the door, Jake’s leaning against the opposite wall. Arms crossed. Smirking. “Took you long enough.”

Jay glares. Jake pushes off the wall. Steps close. Kisses you, quick, filthy, tasting Jay on your tongue. “My turn to watch the door,” he says. “Go wait in the car. Round two’s on us.”

Jay takes your hand. Leads you out, past the hostess who definitely knows what just happened, into the cool night air.

The car is parked in the back lot, tinted windows, engine already running. Sunghoon’s in the driver’s seat. Heeseung in the passenger. Both turn when you climb in the back. Sunghoon’s eyes drop to the wet spot on your dress. Smiles, slow, predatory.

“Missed the show?” Heeseung reaches back. Pulls you onto his lap. “Plenty of time for round two,” he murmurs against your neck. Jay slides in beside you. Jake climbs in last, locks the doors. The engine starts. And the night? The night is far from over.

The black SUV idles in the shadowed back lot behind the restaurant, engine a low, steady rumble beneath the distant pulse of music leaking from the outdoor speakers. Tinted windows seal the interior into a private world, leather seats already radiating warmth, the air heavy with Jay’s cologne, the sharp bite of expensive whiskey on their breath, and the unmistakable, intimate musk of sex that still clings to your skin.

You’re straddling Heeseung in the center of the back seat, silk dress shoved up around your waist, thighs spread wide over his hips. His dark jeans are damp where your leaking cunt has pressed against him. Heeseung doesn’t flinch. His hands are beneath the fabric, broad palms cupping your bare ass, fingers spreading you open with deliberate care, holding you exposed and vulnerable in the dim glow filtering through the windows.

Jay sits to your left, shirt untucked, collarbones still flushed, lips swollen and red from the way he’d fucked you against the marble sink in the bathroom minutes earlier. Sunghoon occupies the right side, long legs stretched out, one hand already working the thick outline of his cock through tailored slacks, eyes fixed on the sight between your thighs. Jake has twisted around in the front passenger seat, forearm braced on the headrest, gaze dark and unblinking.

For several long seconds, no one speaks.

Only the rhythm of heavy breathing, the soft creak of leather as bodies shift, the faint metallic tick of the cooling engine. Then Heeseung’s voice, low, gravel-rough, breaks the silence against the shell of your ear.

“You’re still dripping him,” he murmurs, one hand sliding from your ass to slip between your legs from behind. Two fingers push into the slick, swollen heat of your cunt, gathering Jay’s release and pressing it back inside with slow, unhurried strokes. The wet sound is obscene in the confined space. “Can feel it leaking out. Can’t let that go to waste.”

Your body reacts before your mind can catch up, inner walls fluttering, a soft, helpless whimper slipping past your lips as your hips twitch forward. Jay’s hand joins Heeseung’s without hesitation. Four fingers now, stretching you wider, scooping the thick cum deeper, curling against the front wall until your breath hitches sharply.

“He’s right,” Jay says, voice quiet but edged with something darker, more possessive. “We should keep you full. All night. Every time one of us finishes, the next one pushes it right back in.”

Sunghoon leans in closer, breath ghosting hot along the side of your neck. His voice is velvet and steel. “Full until it takes. Until you’re so thoroughly bred there’s no question who put it there.”

The words hit like a physical blow, low in your belly, sharp and electric. Your cunt clenches hard around their fingers, a fresh gush of slick coating their knuckles.

Jake’s eyes widen in the front seat. “Fuck—did you just—”

“I said,” Sunghoon repeats, slower, darker, each syllable deliberate, “full until it takes. Until this perfect little cunt is swollen and leaking and carrying exactly what we give it.”

Heeseung’s free hand slides up to cradle the front of your throat, not squeezing, simply holding, thumb resting over your racing pulse. “You like that thought, don’t you?” he asks softly, lips brushing the sensitive skin behind your ear. “All four of us pumping you full, one right after the other. No pulling out. No wasting a single drop. Just letting it stay deep until your body has no choice but to keep it.”

You nod, frantic, tears already gathering at the corners of your eyes because the fantasy is suddenly too vivid, too real, too close to everything your body has been silently begging for.

Jay’s fingers crook harder, pressing ruthlessly against that spot that makes your vision blur. “Use your words.” 

“I want it,” you gasp, voice cracking. “Want you to, to breed me. Fill me until I can’t take any more. Until it’s all inside me. Please—”

A chorus of low, guttural groans fills the car. Heeseung lifts you just high enough to shove his jeans and briefs down his thighs. His cock springs free, thick, flushed dark, already leaking at the tip. He doesn’t tease. He simply guides you down onto him in one long, controlled descent, stretching you open around his length until your ass meets his hips and he’s buried to the hilt.

You cry out, head falling back against his shoulder, nails digging into his forearms.

“That’s it,” he hisses through clenched teeth. “Take every inch. Take every fucking drop I’m about to give you.” He begins to move, deep, rolling thrusts that grind the head of his cock against your cervix with punishing precision. Jay’s hand stays between your legs, fingers circling your clit in tight, relentless loops while Heeseung fucks up into you with measured force.

Sunghoon has already freed himself completely, long, elegant fingers wrapped around his shaft, stroking slowly, eyes never leaving the place where Heeseung disappears inside you over and over. “My turn comes next,” he says, voice low and certain. “I’m going to add to it. Make sure nothing escapes.”

Jake’s hand is inside his own pants now, stroking himself in perfect time with Heeseung’s rhythm, breath coming in short, ragged pants. “Look at her,” he mutters, almost reverent. “So fucking desperate to be filled. Greedy little thing.”

Heeseung’s pace builds, hips snapping up harder, faster, the wet slap of skin on skin filling the car. “I’m going to come inside you,” he warns, voice strained. “Going to flood this tight cunt until it’s overflowing. You ready for it?”

“Yes—please—Heeseung—”

He buries himself as deep as possible and comes with a long, broken groan, hot, thick pulses painting your walls, filling you so completely you feel the pressure build behind your navel. Even as you clench down hard, trying to keep it all in, the excess begins to leak out around his base, coating his balls and dripping onto the leather.

He doesn’t pull out. He simply holds you there, still hard, still buried deep, while Jay shifts.

Jay moves to kneel on the seat beside you, one knee braced against the cushion. He nudges Heeseung’s softening length aside just enough to press his own cock against your already-stretched entrance. The stretch is immediate, two thick cocks forcing their way inside the same slick channel, rubbing against each other through the thin barrier of your walls. You scream, muffled against Heeseung’s shoulder, body shaking violently.

Jay fucks into you with short, brutal thrusts, the friction almost unbearable. “This pussy is going to take all of us tonight,” he growls, voice rough with possession. “Going to be so full of cum you’ll feel it moving inside you every time you breathe.”

Sunghoon reaches over, fingers finding your clit again, pinching, rolling, tugging, pushing you higher and higher while Jay pounds relentlessly.

The orgasm crashes through you without warning, sharp, blinding, walls spasming so violently around both cocks that Jay swears under his breath. His hips stutter, then slam forward one last time as he comes, hot spurts mixing with Heeseung’s release until you’re overflowing, thick rivulets running down your thighs and soaking the seat beneath you.

Sunghoon doesn’t give you time to recover.

He yanks you off both of them, strong hands manhandling you onto all fours across the wide back seat, ass presented high, face pressed into Heeseung’s lap. He lines up and drives in with one punishing thrust, burying himself to the hilt in a single motion that forces the air from your lungs.

“This cunt is getting bred tonight,” he snarls, voice low and dangerous. “I’m going to pump you so full you’ll be leaking for days. Every step you take tomorrow, you’ll feel us still inside you.”

He fucks like it’s a claiming, like he needs to imprint himself deeper than the others. One hand fists your hair, yanking your head back until your spine arches sharply. The car rocks with the force of his thrusts.

Jake climbs over the center console into the back, kneeling in front of your face. He guides his cock to your lips. You open for him immediately, taking him deep, sucking with sloppy, desperate hunger while Sunghoon rails you from behind.

Sunghoon comes with a guttural sound, hips locked flush against your ass, flooding you with another hot load until it spills out around his base and runs in sticky trails down your inner thighs.

Jake pulls free from your mouth, strokes himself twice, and spills across your lower back in thick, warm ropes, marking your skin. They rotate again, Heeseung sliding back in, then Jay, then Sunghoon, each one adding more, fucking it deeper, pushing it against your cervix with every thrust until you’re trembling, sobbing, body overwhelmed and exquisitely full.

When the final round ends, Sunghoon pulling out with a wet, filthy sound, a fresh gush of cum following, your legs give out completely. You collapse forward onto Heeseung’s chest, shaking, panting, utterly spent.

Jay reaches into the center console and withdraws a small black velvet pouch. Inside are three plugs, smooth black silicone, flared bases, graduated sizes. Heeseung selects the largest, coats it generously in the creamy mess still leaking from you, then presses the blunt tip against your swollen entrance.

“Gonna keep every drop where it belongs,” he murmurs, voice soft now, almost reverent. He works the plug in slowly, watching your face the entire time, until it pops past the rim and settles deep, the weight immediate and grounding.

Jay takes the smaller one, slicks it with the same care, and presses it gently but firmly into your ass. The dual fullness is overwhelming, possessive, complete.

Sunghoon cleans between your thighs with a packet of wipes from the glovebox, slow, careful strokes that feel almost tender after everything. Then he helps you sit up, smoothing your dress back down over your hips, fingers combing gently through your tangled hair. The car falls quiet again. They surround you, Heeseung’s arms wrapped securely around your waist, Jay’s hand resting warm and steady on your thigh, Sunghoon’s fingers tracing idle patterns along your arm, Jake leaning over the seat to press close from the front. After a long stretch of silence, Jake speaks, voice quieter than you’ve ever heard it. “We don’t want anyone else,” he says simply. “Not ever. Not like this.”

Jay nods once. “You’re not just something we fuck. You’re ours. Completely. For everything.”

Sunghoon’s fingertips brush the line of your jaw, tilting your face toward him. “We thought we could keep it light. Keep some distance. Pretend it didn’t matter.” He exhales, the sound almost pained. “We were wrong.”

Heeseung’s hold tightens, lips brushing your temple. “No one else touches you. No one else fills you. No one else gets to love you the way we do.” The word, love,lands soft and heavy, undeniable. You turn your face into the warm curve of Heeseung’s neck, feel the first tear slip free, not from pain, not from overwhelm, but from the sudden, terrifying certainty that this is exactly where you want to be.

“I don’t want anyone else either,” you whisper against his skin. They exhale as one, like they’ve been waiting weeks to hear it. Jake leans farther over the seat, presses a gentle kiss to your temple. “Good.” Jay draws you closer, tucking your head beneath his chin.

Sunghoon drapes his suit jacket over your shoulders, still warm from his body, carrying his scent. Heeseung climbs over the console, settling in the driver’s seat, he glances up at you through the rear view mirror, starts the engine, and pulls out of the lot with careful precision. The drive home is quiet. The plugs shift inside you with every turn, constant, heavy reminders. Their hands stay on you, gentle now, grounding.

When you reach the apartment they carry you inside, Heeseung’s arms strong and sure, straight to the largest bed. They undress you slowly, silk peeled away, heels slipped off, every movement careful and deliberate. They clean you again, warm washcloths, soft touches that linger.

Then they slide into bed around you, skin on skin, bodies fitting together like they were made for it. Heeseung at your front, chest pressed to yours, one leg thrown possessively over your hip. Jay at your back, arm wrapped securely around your waist, lips brushing your shoulder. Sunghoon curled lower, head resting on your thigh, long fingers tracing soothing circles. Jake pressed to your side, fingers laced tightly with yours.

No words. Just the slow, even rhythm of their breathing syncing with yours. Until the plugs feel less like possession and more like quiet promise. Until sleep finally claims you, safe, full, irrevocably claimed. Your dreams aren’t about running. They’re about staying.

perm taglist:

“come on juhoon, don’t be like that.” the oldest let out a chuckle when the reality slap phrase came from the former, “just saying.” the room grew quiet until the youngest opened his mouth, “eh.. i mean, boyfriend doesn’t mean long term partner.” the statement made one of them snorted, “i don’t know, sometimes the popular and popular stays, keonho.”

“okay, well, martin, how’s the interaction with the two of you?” the last to appear asked and martin let an awkward smile, “i mean, she barely looks at me, and we’re at the same class, so...” james raised his eyebrow and looked directly at the boy, “did you even try to talk to her yet?” he paused for a response.

“if you want her to like you, why not trying to talk to her?” seonghyeon raised the question once more, “hello, her boyfriend?” martin pointed the obvious answer. “so what? come on, he’s a dick.” keonho replied, not holding his tongue back. “i heard he gets aggressive easily to his teammates.”

“yeah, come on! show her what’s she’s missing.” james encouraged and finally, martin sighed out a sigh of defeat; looking around the room at his supportive friends and nodded briefly, “fine. but if i get pushed away, i’m never listening to you guys.” a collective laugh went out of the room.

so when the morning came; he was in the lockers standing besides juhoon, that’s currently taking away his books. it was just the same atmosphere, nothing much is happening until he hears that laugh that he heard in his dreams. yours; so he tilted his head to the side to get a better look and he was right, there you are, walking with your friends and laughing about a joke.

he gulped a lump in his throat before juhoon elbowed his side, “dude—!” martin winched as juhoon blinked, “you’re gonna drool looking at her.” he said and closed the lockers and martin looked slightly offended, “oh come on.” he rolled his eyes and his gaze went back to you that’s.. walking towards him?!

wait, no, this can’t be. wait, did she waved at him? should he wave back? fuck, but before he could wave back; you moved pass him and to your other friend behind him. oh.

juhoon’s hand slithered to his back and gave a small pat, “relax, she’ll see you sooner at class.” he hummed, “we got first period, i’ll see you and the others there.” the boy took his hand back and walked towards his class, leaving martin to go to his own. embarrassed about the wave he almost pulled.

as he walked into the class, he went along to sit on his lone desk; and took a glance at her at the other end of the room, before looking at the teacher who had just finished setting up his laptop and projector. as the former started explaining the topic of the lecture, he was dazing to you.

you’re active in class, smart, pretty. god, save him from being into deep. he dived his head into his rested arm and the teacher started listing names, for whatever he was saying; and he could hear the room shifting about the names until the teacher had to control the room to silence.

after a few minutes went by, a small pat took shook him awake before he looked up, “what?” he groaned and opened his eyes, as his body froze when he saw you blinking, “eh.. i mean, yeah?” you let out a small chuckle, “you’re martin, right?” he nodded almost frantically, “yep, yeah, yes.”

“cool, i don’t think we talked much.” she immediately let an awkward laugh, “i’m sorry, i’m awkward around people that i’m not close with.” your apology caught him off guard and he stood up, “no, no! it’s fine.” your smile caught on, nodding and sitting next to him.

what is happening.

“so, what do you think we should do?” your question made him think, go on a date. “i’m sorry?” that’s what he said instead, not really getting what you’re saying; fortunately for him, you’re patient. “oh, you were sleeping.. right, well, we got picked together for today’s assignment on an hypothesis.”

you calm explained and he nodded, “uh, i don’t know.” that response gave her a small hum, “hm, well i wanna hear your opinion, what do you think when—“ she gave a hypothetical question for him, and he would answer with a simple answer; and from there, the work was almost like a walk in a park.

it was not because it was easy, but because how compatible you guys actually are. the two of your opinions pieced perfectly like a puzzle, “you know i think tyler, the creator is actually pretty cool.” when you said that, his eyes immediately lit up, “you like tyler, the creator?” his voice, in disbelief asked and you paused for a second, “well yeah, is that weird?”

“no! i, like tyler too.” that’s when your smile became wider, “you do? oh my, finally! someone i can relate to.” you giggled, “what’s your favorite song?” and suddenly, the three-hour long period became faster than he ever wanted; as his heart raced to your eyes that’s fond of the topic he thought you wouldn’t like.

so when the bell rang for the second period came, and you two had to go back to your respective seats; he swears he could see a disappointed look at your face, “wait.” when he stopped you, your eyes locked once more at him. “i got noone to sit next to, the guy don’t go to school often.” he said, subtly offering the seat next to him for you.

he didn’t expect anything really, infact, it was rejection that he thought he’d get, “hm.. hold on then, let me get my bags and stuff.” holy shit. and when you walked to your desk, their classmates was almost shocked or curious on why you would want to sit next to him, especially your seatmate, and honestly.. he is too.

lunch came briefly after as he went to the table that had juhoon, seonghyeon, and keonho. with a seemingly large smile that they were almost terrified at him. “yah, what’s with the face?” keonho pointed out when he sat down, “she talked to me.” the table stopped for a second, “and for two whole periods, infact she sat beside me.” juhoon blinked, “wow. congrats.”

“this is serious, come on.” martin looked at juhoon’s unphased face, “how did you both talk?” seonghyeon raised his eyebrow slightly and martin explained everything, how you tapped his shoulder to get his attention, how the two of you were partners, and how the two of you talked about the same artist.

“you sound like a loser in love.” keonho snorted when he said it, “to be honest, i think he already is.” juhoon blinked and seonghyeon just nodded along, “oh come on.” martin huffed out a th, and they smiled. “well, now since you got the girl remembering your name, it’s time for you to get her from her boyfriend.” upon keonho’s comment, “right.”

“i forgot she had one.” juhoon blinked, before looking around to see her and her friends in a different table and giggling about something; he hummed and looked down, “ask her.” the bold words made martin cringed.

“on a date?” juhoon looked up to martin’s completely wrong hypothesis and kicked his foot below the table, “if she’s single.” he returned the look back at him, “oh.. wait what?” keonho moved his head towards juhoon’s direction, “right now? what if she gets weirded out?” as he let out his concerns, seonghyeon gets what juhoon was trying to say and added, “but subtly, like ask her about him.”

“are we sure she’s not gonna get weirded out?” keonho raised the concern again, “she’s a nice person, it’s fine.” he paused, “probably.” martin groaned, “i’m gonna regret listening to you guys.” as he said that, seonghyeon shrugged, “or thank us for being the blessing to your life, who knows.” he let out a chuckle.

“hey uh, (name).” taking the chance when you sat down next to him, you let out a small hm and looked over to him. “yeah?” a smile quickly followed suit to your face as he moved his body to sit straight, “so, uh,” he gulped, “why did you decide to sit next to me?” fuck, that’s not the question; but he’s gonna have to roll with it.

“i mean, i— i was the one that offered but, i didn’t think you’d accept cause you have a seatmate.” he explained briefly and you just let another amused smile, “well,” when she moved closer to him, he froze entirely until she spoke near to his ear, “between you and me, my seatmate talks about people badly alot.”

and you pulled back, his heart still racing but he fixed himself, “oh.. i see, yeah i get it. people like that annoys me alot too.” the beating of his heart finally calmed down although he can still hear it, now, how does he make it about her boyfriend. “but hey, uh, quick question. but, it’s kinda.. weird if you don’t mind.” upon hearing that, she immediately shook her head as if giving him full approval, “hey it’s fine, shoot me anything.”

“isn’t your boyfriend gonna be mad if you sit next or too close to me?” you stopped as he said that, “i mean like, he’s the captain of the football team right? i’m sure they’re those very jealous type if—“ she tapped on his hand to interrupt, “oh, sorry, i didn’t mean to talk ab—“ he quickly got cut by her statement, “me and him broke up months ago.”

“although we kept it quiet cause we thought everyone knew already, he was too focused on playing games and was too rude for my liking.” when you said that, his first thought was ‘i got a chance.’ “i’m sorry for bringing the topic up,” you quickly dismissed that, “don’t be, i’m glad you did.”

“i don’t really wanna be locked with his name anymore anyways so now you can finally think of me as someone that has no connection with that guy whatsoever.” you let a small ‘pheuw’ and winked at his direction. and oh, his heart is fast again.

“so she’s single, nice, and you both have the same interests.” james took the simplification as the five of them are at his house, once again in the living room. “i’m surprised she’s single, not gonna lie.” juhoon hummed, “i mean, i’m the same class as her boy— ex. no wonder why he hates it when her name comes up in the conversations.”

“but you guys know what this means?” james smirked, and they looked at each other, “he lost a beautiful girl and turned into a loser that yells at his teammates?” keonho guessed, and while it earned a laugh or two, james took his hand to keonho’s shoulder. “it means our loser in love has a chance with the beautiful girl.”

martin feigned offense to that, “if fate is nice enough.” seonghyeon looked at him with squinted eyes, “you got her to sit next to you, confess that she’s single, and you both just happen to like the same artist. i don’t know what your luck is, but it’s definitely on the same side.”

“exactly, have some faith in yourself, you’re usually not like this, if you can, even flirt with her.” james pushed martin’s shoulder gently and martin huffed out a laugh, “fine. fine. it’s not my fault i’m getting awkward over a girl that i like.”

so everytime martin’s seatmate didn’t come to school, she’d move from hers to his. and it has became a habit, infact, the homeroom teacher even pointed it out and almost assigned the two of them to a permanent seat arrangement as a joke, but you or him didn’t protest.

“i should take on her offer not gonna lie, i mean, it’s fun to sit beside you.” you admitted; and taking the opportunity, he built the courage and replied; “and i don’t mind being beside you.” you smiled at that and he swore he saw a red tint on your cheek.

it went to a point where the two of you would walk outside together, to even lunch; your friends would ask why you’re suddenly hanging out with him and you’d just shrug them off. but deep down you knew, he was coming into your head fast.

“you guys must be his friends, i heard alot about you guys.” they were surprised seeing you next to him but shook your hand as they looked at martin in disbelief, he actually pulled it off. “can i join?” their response was an immediate yes.

their exchange was becoming closer, even to when you would usually pass by him in the locker hall, you’d walk over him to first; taking him by the hand without hesitation, as juhoon would let a knowing smirk before leaving the two of you to walk to your class.

“we got science first period, lab partners?” your arm would tangle around his and he’d just let you, “yeah, sure.” his response was quick but not too desperate, walking towards the lab even with the weird gazes of the people that was wondering how did you both get close.

“eh, by the way isn’t that (name)?” “yeah, why is she with him?” “who’s that anyways?” “she fits so much better with her ex.” “such a downgrade.” “right?”

but they really didn’t care about the whispers, just the walk to the lab with the two of you arm in arm; in a way, the face of the school has gotten attached to the loner that she didn’t know that well until the accidental partnership.

the two of them walked outside to the school, you looked at him, “hey, mar.” the nickname left your mouth effortlessly as his head turned to look at you. “do you wanna go out sometimes?” the question made his heart stopped. “like on a date?” he asked.

⟢ dirty secrets by @prkhaven ⋮ wc 28.2k ♯ smut, sister’s boyfriend!jake, inexperienced reader, forbidden love

⟢ sweet like candy by @bambiihee ⋮ wc 4k ♯ smut, friends to lovers, roommates, virgin!reader, experienced!jake

⟢ i don't wanna be just friends by @heejamas ⋮ wc 28k ♯ smut, friends to lovers, college au, pet play, extreme horniness

⟢ responsible guy by @heejamas ⋮ wc 13k ♯ smut, office au, coworkers to lovers, romcom, daddy kink

⟢ complementary pt.1 + pt.2 by @heegyukeluv ⋮ wc 27k + 13k ♯ smut, brother's best friend, tutor!jake

⟢ jake teasing reader by @jakeyswifeblog ⋮ wc ??k ♯ smut, brat tamer!jake, just pure smut

⟢ call me when you hate me less by @jaylaxies ⋮ wc 18.3k ♯ smut, angst, rich footballer jake, tutor!reader

⟢ chemistry pt.1 + pt.2 + pt.3 + ? by @starryjake ⋮ wc 11.5k + 6K + 4.8k ♯ smut, best friend's ex!jake, toxicity, angsty

⟢ clueless by @jaysbaefie ⋮ wc 11.7k ♯ smut, best friends to lovers, hard dom!jake, oblivious reader

⟢ procrastination killer by @p2nyoreo ⋮ wc 3.6k ♯ smut, studdy buddies, sexy messy sex idk

⟢ the bet by @arlyxn ⋮ wc 16.8k ♯ smut, angsty, fluffy, inexperienced!reader x experienced!jake

sunghoon

⟢ inch by inch by @intromortal ⋮ wc 23.6k ♯ smut, brat tamer bick dick!sunghoon, overstimulation

niki

⟢ the neighbour and his cat by @enjakey ⋮ wc ??k ♯ smut, neighbours to lovers, niki has a kitty, very yummy couch scene

⟢ fuckboy!niki pt.1 + pt.2 by @enhani-ki ⋮ wc ??k ♯ smut, fuck boy niki tries to win you over

⟢ beg for it by @bimbobarbie4life ⋮ wc 7.6k ♯ smut, popular!reader x nerd!niki, mean dom!niki, tutoring, humiliation

⟢ student council president by @arlyxn ⋮ wc 10.9k ♯ smut, enemies to lovers, mean dom!niki, control and jealousy

·˚&TEAM

kei

⟢ neighbors by @starryjake ⋮ wc ??k ♯ smut, neighbours to lovers, divorced dilf!kei, daddy kink, honestly the only fic ever

⟢ break room by @starryjake ⋮ wc 8k ♯ smut, office au, cheating, coworkers to lovers

nicholas

⟢ intrigued and indulged by @nteamxdoor ⋮ wc 8.8k ♯ smut, strangers to lovers, bad boy!nicholas, college au

⟢ got your nails in my back by @wangweno ⋮ wc ??k ♯ smut, alpha werewolf!nicholas, knotting, sex in the forest

⟢ let us help by @pineappleonmyburger ⋮ wc 4.6k ♯ smut, nichojoo threesome, bsf euijoo and friend nicholas

⟢ chew toy by @iclimbjungwon ⋮ wc 1.6k ♯ smut, daddy kink, oral fixation

⟢ like a drug by @subbyrua ⋮ wc 4.3k ♯ smut, fuck boy!nicho, angst, comfort, good ending

⟢ body like gossip by @ikeukiss ⋮ wc 7k ♯ smut, frat boy!nicholas, angsty, situationship to lovers

⟢ tails the gangsta by @yuumax553 ⋮ wc 1.5k ♯ smut, wolf hybrid!nicholas, breeding, knotting and...piss...

euijoo

⟢ needy by @lunegenic ⋮ wc 3k ♯ smut, established relationship, , needy!euijoo kitchen sex

⟢ just the two of us by @crdteezv ⋮ wc 4.3k ♯ smut, husband!euijoo, teasing

⟢ not like that by @joojeans ⋮ wc 14k ♯ smut, university au, dubcon, reader is hard to get

⟢ after party by @shyxcherry ⋮ wc 3k ♯ smut, frat boy!euijoo, established relationship, jealousy, slightly toxic euijjoo

⟢ poor girl by @starryjake ⋮ wc ??k ♯ smut, sick reader, praising, finger sucking

⟢ let us help by @pineappleonmyburger ⋮ wc 4.6k ♯ smut, nichojoo threesome, bsf euijoo and friend nicholas

maki

⟢ naughty nights for niceness by @danisofair ⋮ wc 2.8k ♯ smut, hard dom maki, bratty!reader

⟢ fighter by @lunegenic ⋮ wc 4k ♯ smut, major flirt!maki, boxing, car sex

·˚RIIZE

shotaro

⟢ pretty girl discount by @01zfan ⋮ wc 4.9k ♯ smut, plug!shotaro, backshots

⟢ a simple favor by @abriizeyday ⋮ wc ?? ♯ smut, handyman!shotaro, neighbours, possible switch!shotaro?

anton

⟢ always yours by @imsosoheee ⋮ wc 4.8k ♯ smut, long distance bf!anton, angst, emotional make up sex

·˚TXT

soobin

⟢ distraction by @calumcxke ⋮ wc 9.1k ♯ smut, best friends to lovers, reader is scared of thunder, rough comfort sex

⟢ midnight spirit by @filmsbyun ⋮ wc 17k ♯ smut, strangers to lovers, festival guide!soobin, mutual pining, lantern festival

⟢ chapter seven by @monoceros-in-ink ⋮ wc 10k ♯ smut, puppy hybrid!reader, heat, overstimulation, cum play

⟢ dream team? more like cream team by @yuumax553 ⋮ wc 1k ♯ smut, best friends to lovers, confession, dry humping, cumming in pants

(๑ᵔ⤙ᵔ๑) these were just some fics i have saved in my notes app lol :p i will keep updating this list! i couldn't include everything since i can't find some users anymore sadly :( i will soon add recs for james as well! keep coming back every few days to see my updates if you wanna :3

Keep my heart guarded ✶ lhs

word count: 22.7k

Your long-term relationship with your bodyguard-slash-personal assistant Lee Heeseung goes way back in high school. Ever since then, he keeps your heart guarded and humbled in every possible way since your makeup line started to rise into fame. But when a dating scandal tied you with your brand's ambassador, leading to a PR stunt that will last for two years, that's when you realized that your relationship with Heeseung was starting to crumble because of the fortune and popularity.

Play dates ✶ pjs

word count: 25k

A drunken one night stand went wrong when news of the darling socialite was seen leaving the penthouse of CEO Park Jongseong, one of the most sought bachelors in Korea. In order to save face and reputation, a fake dating contract of six months was proposed.

The problem? Turns out you and Jay were ex-lovers — a secret relationship that ended up in a bad light and three years after not seeing each other, you two ended up in the headline of the tabloids and gossip articles. Fake it 'til you make it, they say, and it doesn't help that your ex-boyfriend is great with the act, blurring the lines between repressed feelings and acting like everything's fine between the two of you.

Crayon portraits ✶ sjy

word count: 19.4k

You have a secret — you have a daughter. A four year old little girl who's the bright definition of summer sun. You have another secret, the father is nothing but a bartender at a local beach bar where you had a vacation a few years ago. With your reputation on the line, you forced yourself to keep them hidden from the world and thankfully, Jake was willing to hide his daughter and agree with your conditions — until he decided he doesn't want to for his daughter's sake, leaving you questioning your life as a career woman and a mother.

Just this once ✶ psh

Just this once. You swore, agreeing to another male model as the face of your fashion brand. You don't want to be involved with any male ambassador again after an idol turned out to be a problematic asshole ruined your brand's image. Then came Park Sunghoon, a rising actor in the industry. Tall, brooding, and pale as the winter snow — far from your brand's image, still, popularity can bring money.

You find yourself wary about his enigmatic and quiet personality. Afraid of ruining professionalism, you tiptoed around him, while him? He finds himself obsessed with making you give into your desire.

In spring's rain ✶ ksn

When a wrong email was sent to your CEO instead of his usual schedule, tired and burnout Kim Sunoo decided to just ditch the annual fashion week to join you in your hometown's festival. Spending every bit of the week with just you and him, no designations and power dynamics — just two best friends enjoying the spring festival, knowing damn well that you're planning to resign from your position the moment you two returned to the city.

Ruining empires ✶ yjw

Your relationship with Jungwon comes in hotel rooms and behind closed doors, where it's just the two of you who love each other with much tenderness. While in the outside world, the two of you are destined to be rivals due to your family's long-term rivalry when it comes to being the top corporation in your country. But when secrets are starting to spill, and meet-ups are getting harder to do so; you and Jungwon must face the world and prove that what you two have is real.

The art of tension ✶ nrk

word count: 22.4k

Your divorce has been the talk of the town. The cold and meticulous CEO who wasn’t able to give affection to her ex-husband, eventually was replaced with someone younger and prettier in less than five months after the divorce. You tried to keep your reputation stable despite all the names thrown to you, but when an art gallery exhibit trailed you to Nishimura Riki — handsome, fine, reputable-looking yet younger male who seems to be drawn to you, tension arises and gossip articles start to brew.

he walks in looking like he took a wrong turn from the library. oversized hoodie, baggy cargo pants, hair a little fluffy and messy, big doe eyes scanning the beach like “wait… am i supposed to be here?” he barely speaks during intros just mumbles “hi i’m anton” with that soft shy smile while the other guys are doing full-on model walks and intense eye contact. the girls immediately go feral. “he’s so cute?? is he okay?? does he need a hug??” meanwhile the guys are already sweating because they can feel the shift in energy.

physical challenge day? everyone thinks he’s gonna be awkward and weak because he’s so quiet and soft-looking. then he takes the hoodie off and oh my god. long lean lines, toned abs, shoulders that look wider now that the fabric isn’t hiding them, arms with just enough definition to make you dizzy. he doesn’t show off or flex, he just quietly carries the girls across the water like they’re made of feathers, wins the piggyback race without even breathing hard, and when he sets someone down he gives them that tiny worried “you okay?” with those big eyes. the girls are literally clutching their chests. one of them whispers “he’s so gentle but so strong i’m unwell.” the guys are done for.

beach conversations are where he accidentally destroys everyone.

he doesn’t talk much. just listens with full eye contact and tiny nods, asking soft questions like “what’s your favorite song right now?” or “do you get scared of the ocean at night?” in that deep quiet voice. somehow every girl feels like she’s the only one in the world he’s actually seeing. when they ask him what he’s looking for he says something simple like “someone who feels like home… someone i can be quiet with.” then looks down at the sand blushing. the whole island collectively loses their minds.

confession card time?

he writes the shortest message in history:
“your smile is really pretty. can we talk more?”
no name. just folds it, leaves it on the table, and walks away with his hands in his pockets like it’s no big deal. the girls are SCREAMING trying to figure out who it’s for. (it’s for you. it’s always for you.)

when he finally gets a date he’s so nervous he almost trips getting on the boat. sits across from you blushing so hard his ears are red. keeps stealing glances at your lips while you talk. when you reach over to fix his hair he freezes completely, big eyes wide, breath hitching. whispers “you’re… really close” like he’s never had anyone this close before.

then the kiss.

slow. soft. hesitant at first, his lips barely brush yours like he’s asking permission. you deepen it. he makes this tiny broken sound in his throat and suddenly his hands are on your waist, pulling you closer, kissing you like he’s been starving for it. tongue shy but eager, fingers trembling where they grip your shirt. when he pulls back he’s breathing hard, eyes glassy, cheeks flushed, whispers “sorry… i couldn’t help it.”

the whole island knows he’s done for after that.
he follows you around like a lost puppy. saves you the best spot at meals. gives you his hoodie when you’re cold. stares at you during group games with the softest, most lovesick expression while everyone else is competing. when another guy tries to talk to you he just stands behind you silently doesn’t say anything, doesn’t glare, just exists there with his height and quiet intensity until the guy awkwardly walks away.

in the confession booth he can barely look at the camera. rubs the back of his neck. voice soft.
“i… i really like her. like… a lot. she makes me feel… safe? and warm? i don’t know how to explain it. i just want to be around her all the time. is that weird?”

the producers eat it up. the audience melts. the comments are just “HE’S SO WHIPPED” “PROTECT HIM” “THE WAY HE LOOKS AT HER IM CRYING”

he wins the whole show without ever raising his voice or starting drama.
just by being tall, sweet, quietly obsessed, and devastatingly good at making one girl feel like the center of his entire universe.

and when he finally gets to choose at the end?
he doesn’t hesitate.
walks straight to you.
cups your face with both hands.
kisses you soft and slow in front of everyone while the fireworks go off.

whispers against your lips:

“only you.
always you.”

It doesn't bother him a bit when he doesn't relate to his friends when they're talking about girls inside the convenience store they frequent at. Usually, he sits on the chair beside his friends, munching on some snacks while on his phone.

But on rare occassions where Ohyul's friends finally talked about something other than girls, something he could relate to, he puts down his phone and joins the conversation.

Louis saw the bag of snacks Ohyul got.

"Yo, let me get one." Louis said, pointing at the snack. Ohyul looked at it for a split second before he glanced back at Louis.

"Dude, get one with your own money." Ohyul said, not wanting to give his food away.

"Or just have chicken breast, since you need to stay in shape anyways." Ohyul added, throwing the packed chicken breast on Louis' way.

The youngest shook his head, "no way, bro!" He exclaimed.

Woojin, the second youngest of their friend group, nudged Ohyul on the shoulder. "Hyung, look, y'know this?" He asked, showing him the pokemon cards he pulled.

Ohyul was about to say something, when he saw something— or probably someone, from outside the window of the store. His eyes followed the figure that walked past by, his friends looked at him, confused as to why he had grown quiet.

"Hey, you good?" Ryul asked, placing his arm over Ohyul's shoulder as he shook him slightly.

Ohyul woke up from his thoughts, "oh- uh, yeah.." he mumbled.

The next day, he left the campus later than usual, his friends had gone home by that time, so Ohyul was all alone. He didn't mind, sometimes he likes going home alone with just his thoughts. Ohyul decided to stop by the convenience store to get something to drink. When he stepped inside, his eyes immediately spotted a familiar figure from yesterday that he couldn't forget. Someone that unknowingly made Ohyul stay up all night just by thinking about them.

Yeah, Ohyul is inexperienced, but that doesn't he has no game.

Fearing that this was just a one time opportunity, he slowly, yet efficiently walked towards the aisle where you're at. As if Ohyul didn't have any plans to ask for your number. He tried to act as normal as possible, standing closer but still with a respectable distance between you two, as he skimmed through the chips, watching you from his peripheral view while you look for something.

Then, as if according to the script, Ohyul glanced at you— as if he didn't know you were just beside him. He gasped a little.

"Hey, we attend the same school!" Ohyul exclaimed, a little bit excited than he planned to be. He then cleared his throat, as if resetting the tone of his voice into one of his nonchalant-unbothered one.

You finally glanced at him, eyebrows furrowed together, silently eyeing him up and down, he looks good, but you knew boys like him were up to no good, before you resumed your look towards the chips.

"Yeah..? I guess." You mumbled. You were already used to boys hitting up on you, and unfortunately, you've encountered the same exact scenario like this one. It wasn't anything new to you. So it was easy for you to shrug your shoulders and not give a damn about him.

Ohyul, still not giving up, placed his hand inside his pockets, trying to look cool for you as he watched you still looking for something. He tilted his head— you could see it from your peripheral view. You were a little annoyed with his persistance, it would be better for you to just avoid him by going to another aisle, or leaving the store, but maybe you kind of like the attention he's giving you. It makes your ego skyrocket.

"What're you lookin' for? Maybe I could help you." Ohyul asked, cooly. He shrugged his shoulders, as if to appear cooler, but all you could see is a boy who's too eager for your little attention.

".... just something." You mumbled, not giving in— not in the mood for playboy antics, nor were you interested in him, or any boy in particular.

Ohyul bit the inside of his cheek to suppress the smile that was about to break in, he didn't realize until now that he's into hard girls, or maybe he's just that into you, to not give up.

"C'mon," Ohyul started, leaning a bit closer to you. When he noticed you didn't budge from your place, a tiny smirk went past his face, staring at your side profile.

Oh, you're the prettiest girl he laid his eyes on.

"I think it'll be faster if you just tell me what you're looking for." He finished, still trying to break the wall between you two. The side of your lip rose up, a little entertained.

You finally faced him, and Ohyul's breath hitched when he noticed how close you two were, something he had never expect. You noticed it, of course, his flustered expression. You raised your eyebrow in amusement, crossing your arms together.

"I'm looking for this specific snack, do you know where it is?" You asked, and as if Ohyul won the lottery, a huge smile spread across his face as he eagerly nodded his head like a puppy. You swore you could see an invisible tail wagging behind him, like he just got a pat from his owner.

"Yeah, of course! I'll get it for you!" Ohyul exclaimed, and before you could let out a single word, he already left to get it. A small sigh escaped your lips, arms still crossed, the sound of your heel clicking on the floor while you waited for him.

It didn't take him awhile as he came back sprinting towards you, showing the snack you've been looking for. You only did a quick glance and took the snack from Ohyul's hand.

"Thanks, boy." You said, waving him off as you started walking towards the counter. Ohyul, still haven't recovered from the interaction, but his body immediately move to fetch something from the fridge just so he could catch up to you. When you were about to pull out a bill from your wallet, Ohyul had already beat you to it. He placed his canned soda beside your snack, and quickly handed the money to the cashier.

You glanced at him, eyebrows furrowed together once again. Ohyul noticed how despite wearing heels, you still had to tilt your head to look up at him. He finds it adorable, and he could feel his heart beat a hundred times faster than normal. Instead, he smiled at you.

"What?" Ohyul asked.

You rolled your eyes, "I can pay for my own." You told him, like he offended you.

"I know." Ohyul cooly said. The cashier then handed a plastic bag, Ohyul grabbed it, took his drink and gave you the plastic that contained your snack.

Without a word, you took the plastic away and walked straight outside the store with Ohyul still trailing right behind you.

"It's Ohyul, by the way. Kwon Ohyul." The boy introduced himself, trying to catch up with you. You were a fast walker, that he now knows.

"I don't remember asking." You replied, taking the snack and threw away the plastic bag behind you. Ohyul quickly caught it, almost tripping from his own foot.

"What's your name?" Ohyul asked, still with a grin on his face as he's finally walking beside you.

You noticed the plastic you threw on his grasp, which caused you to let out a quiet snicker.

"I'm not letting a stranger know my name." You answered.

"Then let's get to know each other, so we wouldn't be strangers anymore." Ohyul replied, not backing down. It was amusing, really. And if he keep this up, maybe you'd give in— just a little, probably starting with telling him your name.

And as if you were trying to push his buttons, you stopped walking and faced him. "Are you perhaps stalking me?" You asked, an eyebrow raised.

Ohyul tilted his head to the side, an amused look present on his face as he replied.

"It's not stalking if I have genuine intentions." Ohyul answered, almost too smoothly.

"Really, huh?" You retorted, a small chuckle escape your lips. You stepped closer to him, and with each, slow step, you saw how he grew flustered. Then, you leaned closer to him, pulling him by his necktie.

"The name's Y/N. Maybe I'll give you my number if you see me tomorrow at campus." You told him, fixing the crooked tie before you dropped it to its original place, patting his chest and walked away.

boyfriend! louis is the type of guy who gets clingy when he's tired; the rush for the comeback leaves him exhausted, so when he arrives at your door and simply melts in your arms (probably forgetting he's almost 1.90 meters tall).

boyfriend! louis is the type of guy who would play any kind of game with you, whether it's horror or RPG. put him in to play Overcooked, lil bro will be red from stress, or put him in to play in some random horror game on Roblox, he lets you hide on his shoulder while he chuckles quietly so as not to wake the other members.

boyfriend! louis is the type of guy who is a gentleman, when you're with him, he always carrying bags or your purse; this boy insists on holding the door for you to enter. when you question him about it, he shrugs or simply says, "It's a universal law, I don't see a problem with it." with a gentle smile on his face.

boyfriend! louis is the type of guy who likes to tease you will often be making jokes or messing up your hair, he would rest his arm on your head whenever he had the chance to tease you. he's just a teenage boy who likes to laugh.

boyfriend! louis is the type of guy when something bothers him, he becomes completely silent, not as a punishment of silence, but rather an uncomfortable silence. Sometimes it's over silly things, like you laughing a little too hard at Woojin's joke, or other times it's because he gets tired of the cameras and wants some peace and quiet. If you ask him about it, he'll just say it's nothing or that he's fine.

boyfriend! louis is the type of guy who LOVES junk food, McDonald's and convenience food are his favorite, sometimes you wonder if he eats real food, not street junk.

boyfriend! louis is the type of guy who always notices everything (or almost everything) about you, if you seem tired he'll grab you for a comforting hug, and if you're sad, he tends to stroke your head and speak softly to you.

boyfriend! louis is the type of guy which is chronologically online, always sending memes like 67 (💀), the plankton meme and videos that he finds funny. Sometimes you wake up in the morning to a trillion messages from him on TikTok (he stayed up all night laughing and sending you videos). And that means he would love to do couple trends with you, even if it's just to keep it private or post it on his personal TikTok account.

boyfriend! louis is the type of guy when he has free time from work, likes to spend time with you, whether it's playing Roblox or Minecraft, going on dates at convenience stores, or lying in bed talking about the day.

boyfriend! louis is the type of guy who would NEVER be disrespectful to you; you would never catch him looking at you lewdly or anything like that. He's a well-mannered boy; his mother taught him to be kind and treat people well. And he would never allow anyone to disrespect you in front of him. Perhaps he takes a moment to consider if the person truly meant it, and only after he's certain would he intervene and set boundaries between you and the other person.

boyfriend! louis is the kind of teenboyfriend any high school girl would want: polite, cute, gentle, and sometimes a little bratty, but ultimately he's always a sweet guy with a lot of love inside.

It wasn't like you were some kind of slut, right?

Who were you kidding? Any girl with a working pussy would drool if she stood close enough to those four men. Not just because of their looks, not just because of the sharp edges of their jawlines or the way their eyes seemed to strip people down without touching them, but because how they confidently carried themselves. Their scent. That mix of cologne and sweat that made your throat dry the second they passed by. It wasn't normal, not the way your body reacted. Not the way your thighs pressed together when you thought of them. But you kept telling yourself it was. It had to be.

Lee Heeseung, Park Jongseong, Sim Jaeyun, and Park Sunghoon. 

Four names that rang louder than any lecture in your university halls. Four names whispered in bathrooms, shouted across freedom walls, written down in anonymous confessions like some fucking campus legends. Everyone knew them. Everyone wanted them. And everyone, at least once, wondered what it would be like to be touched by them.

People pretended to sneer at their lives, at the rumors tied around them, but the truth always leaked through—envy, hunger, the kind of desperate need nobody wanted to admit out loud. Because deep down, every damn rumor about them only made them more untouchable, more godlike.

And then there was that one rumor. The one that tore through the university like wildfire.

The gangbang story.

The most scandalous, dirtiest thing anyone had ever whispered, and yet nobody could stop talking about it.

Nobody could prove it. Nobody knew if it was just a story made up by someone bored, but fuck, if it had been real... if it had been real, then you weren't sure what was worse. The fact that people called it disgusting or the fact that it made your whole body clench with jealousy.

How fucking scandalous. How fucking disgusting.

And how fucking pathetic that every time you thought about it, your chest got tight, your mouth went dry, and all you could think was: if that rumor had ever been true, if those four had ever taken a girl like that, then why the fuck wasn't it you?

"Someone caught Jake making out with a girl from Tourism!"

"Someone said Sunghoon's been fucking that sophomore from another building!"

"Have you heard that Jay is smoking at the back of the building while the TA sucks him off? Geez, what a lucky girl."

"And that cheerleader said Heeseung likes girls who can spread their legs wide!"

Your hands gripped your pen tighter, knuckles turning pale, jaw clenched as the chatter bled into your ears. Every fucking sentence was the same—different girls, different places, different dirty details—but the same four names, always the same four names. It was exhausting, it was maddening, and it was starting to chew holes into your focus.

"Stop it," you hissed finally, snapping your head up to face the group of girls clustered near the corner. "There are people here who are trying to study. Maybe try doing that instead of running your mouths about men and their sex lives. Do you have no shame?"

The table went quiet, their smirks twitching as they shared quick glances between themselves. One girl rolled her eyes and muttered something under her breath, but none of them pushed back. They just leaned back into their seats, whispering low but not low enough, as if they wanted you to hear every giggle, every stifled laugh.

You tried to turn back to your notes, but your pulse wouldn't settle. You're not annoyed that they were gossipping.

You were jealous.

Jealous that every rumor had someone else's name attached to it. Jealous that every filthy story, every detail, every moan that lived in their words belonged to another girl and not to you.

Fuck! It's unfair! It's so unfair! Why was it always someone else? Why did it have to be another girl they kissed, another girl they bent over, another girl who got to hear their voices from fucking?

You exhaled sharply through your nose, trying to drown it out, trying to stay steady. But every word of theirs came back to the same thing. Their dicks. Their moans. Their fucking. And all it did was remind you that you hadn't had a single taste of any of it, not even once.

Fuck it. When was it supposed to be your turn?

You tried. God, you fucking tried. You started dragging yourself to every fraternity party you caught wind of, even ones you had no business going to, all in hopes of catching just one of their eyes. You would push through sweaty bodies and strobe lights, pretending to dance, pretending to laugh, only to learn that Jay had already gotten bored and left long before you even stepped in. The disappointment would choke you, but you still kept showing up. 

Like some desperate puppy waiting for scraps.

You started waxing everything, every inch of your body, until your skin burned. You bought bottles of expensive perfume you couldn't even afford, ones that clung to your clothes and hair until it made you dizzy. You thought maybe, they liked girls who smelled clean, who looked like they had their shit together, but deep down you knew it didn't matter. Because how would they ever notice when you didn't even have the guts to open your mouth?

"Uh... do you know, like, how to talk to Heeseung?" you asked, trying to keep your voice casual while your eyes betrayed you, glued to the tall figure across the library.

He was sliding books off a shelf, completely unaware of the way your whole body went tense, your throat dry, your palms slick with sweat. Even from a distance you swore you could smell him, that same maddening warmth that clung to him whenever he walked past.

Your friend blinked, eyebrows raised as though she couldn't believe the words had actually come out of your mouth. "About what? You know damn well he doesn't talk to girls in public. People only talk about how he fucks them hard and then disappears. No contact. Nothing. Ever." She scoffed, dismissing it with a wave of her hand, before her gaze sharpened on you. A smirk tugged at her lips and she let out a loud laugh that made your ears burn. "Wait. Don't tell me you're actually planning something. You think you're gonna get him to fuck you?"

Her laughter made your eye twitch. You felt her gaze scan over you, up and down, picking apart everything you were, everything you weren't. She reached over, patting your shoulder in a way that only made you feel smaller.

"It's okay to dream big," she said, lips curving into a cruel little smile, "but let me shatter that for you. He would never, okay? Hmm?"

Something in your chest snapped at her words. Anger rose, clinging to your ribs until you thought you'd choke on it. How fucking dare she? How dare she look at you like that, laugh at you like you weren't even worth a second glance? How high did she think of herself, how low did she think of you?

But you swallowed it, burying the sharpness down where no one could see. You curved your lips into a laugh that sounded almost real, almost lighthearted, even though your nails dug into your palm under the table. "Silly you," you said sweetly, tilting your head like it didn't sting, "I was just trying to interview him for sports journalism. Don't get too talkative about fucking, though. It sounds like you're reflecting your own frustrations."

You smiled brighter, watching her expression falter for just a second before she scoffed again and turned back to her notes.

You needed to think. You needed to dig deeper into yourself, to find a way, any way, because you refused to lose. You refused to accept being invisible.

Every single morning became a routine.

You would drag yourself out of bed before the sun even touched the sky, forcing your heavy eyes open as you stood in front of the mirror. You styled your hair until not a single strand was out of place, you layered makeup carefully until your reflection looked like someone worth noticing, and you scrubbed your skin until it stung, until it shone smooth under your fingertips. Your closet was picked apart daily, clothes scattered across your floor, until you found the outfit that made you feel like you could walk down the hall with your head high, like you were worth a second glance.

And every time, when the clock struck the hour you knew they would be walking down the hallway, you stood ready. Shoulders straight, steps measured, chest tight with nerves as you waited for them to pass. You tried to look effortless, confident, perfect. But it shattered you every single time when none of them looked your way. Their eyes stayed forward, their voices low between themselves, their expressions unchanged as if you were nothing more than air. Your hands would grow limp at your sides, your confidence bleeding out of you as you glanced behind your shoulder, mouth parted slightly, helplessly staring at their broad shoulders moving further and further away from you.

The frustration followed you. At night, you laid in bed with their faces behind your eyelids, your thighs pressed together until you couldn't stand it anymore.

You touched yourself with the thought of them, not just one but all four, surrounding you, using you, making you theirs in every filthy way you had imagined. You came undone to fantasies of their hands pulling your hair, their voices groaning against your ear, your body stretched thin for them, and the pleasure left you gasping, sweating, shaking in the dark. Yet as soon as it ended, as soon as your heartbeat slowed, you already hated yourself. Because no matter how hard you wanted it, morning would come again, and the cycle would repeat. You'd wake up early, fix yourself to perfection, pass them in the hallway, and watch them ignore you.

The days blurred into each other, but the whispers always found you. Another rumor spread like fire, another story about them with another girl, and it burned you alive from the inside.

You wanted to scream at how unfair it was, how humiliating it felt that you couldn't stop aching for something you might never get. Sometimes you almost laughed at yourself, at how pathetic you must have looked, stuck between jealousy and desperation, unable to let go.

"Wow, what perfume do you use? You smell so good!" Your classmate's voice cut through your thoughts one day, her hand brushing casually across your arm. "And your lotion too? Your skin feels amazing."

The touch startled you, and the question almost made you snap. "It's just Victoria's Secret," you hissed automatically, jerking your hand slightly to free yourself. But the moment you saw her surprised face, you realized what you had done, and quickly masked it with a sweet smile. "Sorry, I'm in a bad mood, forgive me? It's Velvet Petals. But I exfoliate with Dove first. That's probably why."

Her lips curved into a bright smile, her eyes scanning you with something almost admiring. "It's okay! You look really, really, really pretty, you know? And you're so sweet. I just hope you don't fall into the wrong hands."

The way she said it made your stomach twist. You knew exactly who she was talking about, and the mocking tone in her voice when she mentioned "wrong hands" made it worse. Those fuckboys. That's what they all called them, as if the four of them weren't the most wanted men on campus, as if everyone's mouths didn't water at the thought of being ruined by them.

You held your smile, but inside, the anger returned, pulsing hotter than before. They all thought they were above you. They all thought they could talk about them like that and laugh at you for wanting something they secretly wanted too. They were liars, hypocrites, hiding their hunger under judgment while you carried yours openly in your chest.

You pressed your lips together, leaning closer to her so your words came out soft, almost playful. "Maybe falling into the wrong hands isn't always such a bad thing."

Her eyes widened slightly, confusion flickering across her face as you sat back again, smiling politely like nothing had happened.

But in your head, the thought echoed, louder, heavier, filthier.

If those hands were theirs, you would fall gladly.

The party was dragging, the music pounding but lifeless, the people are drunk but boring. You wondered for the tenth time why you even bothered showing up.

The whole campus had been buzzing about this night, everyone whispering about how it would be wild because they would be here. But the most boring part of it all was exactly that—they weren't.

No sign of the four men everyone was expecting. And for that, you hated yourself a little. You hated that you had wasted another expensive outfit, another spritz of your favorite perfume, another hour in front of the mirror just to sit there and look pretty for nothing.

Your cheek rested lazily against your hand as you swirled the watered-down alcohol in your glass. Your eyes lingered on the girl across the room, perched on the couch, laughing with a group of guys who had crowded her like she was the crown jewel of the night. She looked so damn proud of herself, flipping her hair and soaking up their attention like it was worth something.

You almost felt bad for her—because those men? God, they were fucking ugly. The kind of guys who had nothing going for them except being loud and drunk enough to fill her space. And she was pretty, too pretty for the trash sitting beside her, too wasted to notice she could do better.

You sighed, your eyes dropping back down to your glass, watching the last pieces of ice melt into nothing. Maybe you should leave. Maybe you should give up, call it another wasted night, drag yourself back to bed where you could rot under the covers and imagine what it would feel like if the four men ever actually noticed you.

"Hi."

The single word pierced through the noise around you. Your breath caught, and you nearly threw your glass across the table. Your back went ramrod straight as you turned, your heart slamming against your ribs so hard it hurt. When your eyes landed on the figures behind you, everything inside of you went still before spiraling into chaos.

Jake. Sunghoon.

Two of them. Standing there. Talking. To you.

Your throat closed, your tongue heavy, your thoughts shattering into broken pieces as if the universe had finally played its sick joke on you. What the fuck was happening? Jake and Sunghoon—out of everyone in this crowded room—were standing in front of you, looking at you, waiting for you.

"H-Hi?" The word slipped out, so small, so shaky you almost cringed at yourself.

Jake's smile spread, his gaze running over you like he was unwrapping you with his eyes. He didn't hide the way he lingered on the pink silk dress clinging to your body or the way his eyes glinted when he caught the gems glittering delicately across your skin. The weight of his stare made your thighs press together without you even thinking about it.

"Where's your friends?" He shifted his hands casually into his pockets, flashing a smile. "I organized this party, you know. I almost felt bad seeing you sitting here alone."

You swallowed hard, the words tangling on your tongue. This was the moment you'd been waiting for, the one you had begged for, dreamed of, touched yourself over. And yet, your body betrayed you, trembling as you almost flinched under the weight of their presence.

"M-My friends a-are... uh... there." Your shaky hand lifted, pointing weakly toward the dance floor, and the second you did it you wanted to melt into the floor and disappear.

Sunghoon's low laugh broke the air. He leaned forward slightly, his dark eyes fixed on you as if he could see straight through every flimsy layer of composure you were trying to hold together. "And they exclude you? What bad friends you have."

The closeness of him made your brain dissolve. His perfume, his cologne, the sharp tang of alcohol still lingering on his lips—God, you wanted to taste it, to drown in it. He didn't even touch you, but his nearness was enough to make your body tense, your lips parting before you realized it.

"Want to join us?" Sunghoon asked smoothly.

"W-Where?" you squeaked.

"Well, we can drink outside—" Sunghoon started, but Jake cut him off with a voice that left no room for argument.

"At Heeseung's private room." His tone was steady, certain, his stare locked on you, waiting for your reaction.

For a split second, Sunghoon's eyes widened at Jake's bluntness. You caught the quick glance he shot him, an unspoken message passing between them, before his smirk slid back into place. He didn't need to argue. He didn't need to say a thing. Because the moment the words "Heeseung's private room" left Jake's mouth, your body had already betrayed you.

Your lips trembled, your voice breaking into a whisper. "Yes."

And there it was—the one word that sealed everything.

Jake's smirk deepened, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he tilted his head ever so slightly, studying you like you had just handed yourself over. Sunghoon's grin widened, his teeth flashing as he straightened up, amusement flickering in his gaze.

"Good girl," Jake murmured under his breath.

Your chest tightened, your breath caught, and every ounce of you screamed that this was it. The moment you had been waiting for, the moment you had dreamed of, the moment you could never come back from.

And you didn't fucking care.

The door creaked open and Heeseung froze at the threshold, his tall frame stiffening instantly as his eyes landed on the scene.

Jake had one hand tangled in your hair, his cock buried between your lips, his head thrown back as he groaned through clenched teeth. Sunghoon was draped across your back, his chest pressing heavily against you, his hand pinching and rolling your nipples mercilessly while his lips brushed your skin, leaving icy trails that made you shiver.

Your body was positioned like some offering—hands and knees spread like a cat, ass swaying slightly with every thrust of Jake's hips.

"Seriously?" Heeseung's voice was carrying irritation. He shut the door, though he didn't walk away.

The noise made you whimper, muffled around Jake's cock, the vibration of your moan sending shudders up his spine. Jake gritted his teeth and hissed through a laugh, thrusting harder until the blunt head of his dick slammed against the back of your throat. He held you there with one firm grip in your hair, pushing until your nose bumped against the hard plane of his stomach. Your eyes watered, your chest heaved, but the desperation inside you drowned out every thought of resistance.

It hadn't started like this. At first, it was only drinks, games, laughter and teasing, until Jake leaned forward and suggested body shots. You hadn't even hesitated; the heat of their attention had already melted through you, and Jake had almost laughed at how quickly you had fallen into their hands.

And now, here you were, drooling and choking on his cock while Sunghoon twisted your nipples until your whole body jerked with every pinch.

"Your favorite member is here," Jake taunted, his gaze dropping down to you, then flicking toward the figure standing silently by the door. His smirk widened as he forced another thrust into your mouth. "Bro, she's been asking where the fuck you were. You took so long, she already came in her panties just from Sunghoon teasing her tits."

Heat shot through your face as the humiliation wrapped around you. Tears streamed freely down your cheeks, staining the gems near your eyes, but none of it stopped you from flattening your tongue against the base of his cock, licking every inch you could reach while your throat spasmed around him. The shame twisted into a  darker, sharper, more intoxicating feeling than you ever imagined.

This was it. This was the dream. The one you'd fucked yourself to in silence night after night, the one you had burned for. And now you were living it, choking, moaning, tears streaking your face, every filthy detail of it everything you had ever wanted.

You couldn't see Heeseung clearly from where you knelt, but you felt him. His gaze was heavy, dragging over you, making your pussy clench at nothing. You knew he was watching the way your lips stretched around Jake's cock, the way your chest heaved as Sunghoon tortured your nipples, the way you looked so fucked out and desperate already.

"The rumors about us are already spreading, and you have the guts to do this?" Heeseung's voice finally cut through with restrained anger. He stepped closer, his shoes quiet against the floor until his shadow stretched across you. You could feel his eyes on your crying, messy face, and it only made your cunt throb harder, soaking your panties.

Jake laughed through a groan, his hips grinding against your lips as his cock slid deeper. Sunghoon joined him with a low chuckle, his cold mouth pressing into your nape as his fingers tugged the straps of your dress down your shoulders. The silk slipped easily, baring your chest fully to Heeseung's view, your nipples stiff and swollen as Sunghoon's thumb and finger rolled them until you moaned around Jake's length.

"Come on," Sunghoon murmured against your ear, his voice is taunting. "You know we always love sharing." His lips traced your skin as his hand pushed your dress lower, exposing more, leaving nothing for modesty.

Heeseung's jaw tensed, but his eyes betrayed him. He couldn't look away. His cock stirred against his pants, hardening slowly with every sound that left you, with every pathetic little whimper muffled by Jake's cock. He watched the tears streak down your face, the way your hand lifted shakily from the floor, reaching for him.

Your fingers trembled as they hovered against his thigh, then slid higher until they brushed over the hard bulge in his pants. Your eyes lifted toward him, glassy, half-lidded, drowning in tears and lust, staring directly into his.

Heeseung exhaled sharply, his composure cracking.

And when your palm pressed firmer against him, stroking lightly through the fabric, his cock throbbed in response.

Your back arched off when Heeseung's hands moved to his belt. The sight alone was enough to make your chest tighten and your pussy throb, your body reacting with a hunger you couldn't disguise. Sunghoon caught it immediately, his laugh was low against your ear, mocking the way you looked so desperate without shame. He shifted off you, giving Heeseung room.

"Does Jay know about this?" Heeseung asked, his eyes shifting toward Jake and Sunghoon as if demanding an explanation even while his hands were already pulling at his clothes.

Jake's grin widened, still slick with your spit as he slid his cock from your mouth. "It's a surprise," he answered simply, as if that explained everything. His hand squeezed the back of your neck one last time before releasing you, and your body slumped against the mattress, chest heaving, throat raw. But before you could even recover, Heeseung's hands pressed against you, guiding your body flat onto your back, his touch so commanding you followed without question.

The world tilted when the fabric of your dress slipped from your shoulders, your body fully bared under their stares. Sunghoon leaned close again, his nose brushing your cheek as his voice dipped. "Look at those pretty eyes." His words curled into your skin, and you whimpered before turning toward him, your lips crashing into his. The kiss was messy, desperate, your mouth opening wide for him, your tongue tangling with his like you could pull the heat out of him and swallow it whole.

Jake's fingers hooked your panties and dragged them down your legs, his eyes glued to the slick mess between your thighs. The moment he saw your pussy clenching and unclenching around nothing, a growl broke from his throat.

Heeseung's response was just as guttural, his eyes narrowing as he dropped down onto his knees beside Jake, their shoulders brushing as if they were competing for the same prize. Without hesitation, they lifted your legs, spreading you shamelessly open, one of your thighs resting on each of their broad shoulders.

Sunghoon didn't let you breathe. His mouth consumed yours, his tongue pressing harder, his teeth tugging your bottom lip as his hand cradled your jaw, keeping you locked against him. You barely managed a moan into his mouth when the first hot lick dragged across your clit, the sudden sensation shooting up your spine that you tore yourself away from Sunghoon's kiss. Your eyes flew down, wide and dazed, only to meet Heeseung's sharp gaze staring up at you while his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking with deliberate, teasing pulls.

Your mouth fell open, your chest rising and falling rapidly, but you didn't dare blink. You couldn't miss the sight of his face buried between your legs, his tongue flattening against your sensitive bud and flicking so slowly it bordered on torture. Your thighs shook, trying to close, but his grip on your hips was unyielding.

"Hey," Sunghoon muttered, his fingers squeezing your chin until your eyes snapped back to him. His gaze was dark, narrowed, a flicker of jealousy twisting in it. "I was the one who found you. Give me some attention."

Your whimpers came small, but you still obeyed, your hand trembling as he guided it down between his legs. The hard ridge of his cock was burning against the fabric of his pants. The moment your palm pressed against him, your body shivered from the weight of him.

They were massive. You had heard the whispers from other girls, but no rumor had prepared you for the truth. Your fingers wrapped around him, squeezing gently through the fabric, and Sunghoon's lips parted, his breath catching as his hips rocked into your touch.

"Fuck," he groaned, head dropping to your shoulder, his teeth grazing your skin as if your touch alone was enough to push him toward the edge.

And then Jake bit down on your inner thigh, hard enough to make you cry out, his tongue following the sting with a wet, sucking kiss that left your skin marked. Heeseung's lips abandoned your clit, only to press lower, his tongue flattening against your dripping entrance before slurping noisily at the wetness pooling there. The sound was obscene, messy, and you moaned louder than you ever had, the combination of Jake's teeth marking your thighs and Heeseung's mouth devouring you unraveling every last thread of composure you had.

"Shh." Sunghoon's voice was ragged as his hand pressed against your jaw again, his hips grinding into your palm while his other hand fumbled with his belt. His pants dropped down his thighs, and when he freed himself, your eyes widened, your mouth watering instantly at the sight. His cock was flushed and heavy, the tip glistening with pre-cum, so thick it almost made your stomach flutter with fear.

Your legs were trembling uncontrollably, but you couldn't close them, not when Jake and Heeseung had you pinned wide open, their mouths swapping positions greedily between your clit and your entrance.

Jake was hungrier, reckless with the way his tongue plunged into you, his lips sucking against your folds so loudly it drowned out even the bass from the music downstairs. You could feel him moan against you, his hands gripping your thighs tighter, his whole face buried as if he wanted to drown in your pussy.

"Say ah," Sunghoon knelt in front of you, his cock gripped tightly in his hand. You obeyed instantly, your lips falling open, your eyes wide and locked on his face.

The expression he wore was enough to make your stomach twist—his brows drawn tight, his lips parted as if he were biting back a curse, his gaze focused entirely on your mouth as though nothing else in the world existed.

"So eager," he whispered hoarsely, his cock brushing against your lips as pre-cum smeared across them. "Fuck."

Heeseung rose slowly from between your thighs, his lips and chin slick with your wetness, his chest lifting heavily with each breath. His gaze drifted down over your trembling body, then to Sunghoon's cock hovering dangerously close to your lips, before his large hands moved to your chest. The weight of his touch was deliberate, kneading the softness of your breasts, his thumbs dragging over your nipples until they tightened again under his attention.

The combination was unbearable, your body jerking at every angle, twitching against their hands and mouths as if you no longer had control over it. Sunghoon's sudden pace had your cheeks hollowing, his cock stretching your lips as he thrust with low, restrained groans.

At the same time, Heeseung's fingers twisted your nipples mercilessly, sharp flicks that sent heat rushing to your core, and Jake's tongue was buried inside you, fucking your entrance with wet, eager strokes. Each movement pulled you in a different direction, your body caught in the middle of all three of them until you felt yourself unraveling at the seams.

Your head was spinning, dizzy from the sensation. The world tilted and blurred, your muffled moans spilling out against Sunghoon's cock, your tears streaking down your cheeks. It was overwhelming, but in the best way, better than anything you had ever experienced, better than every fumbling encounter that left you aching and unsatisfied.

This was hunger given form, this was desire being fed by three men who knew exactly how to break you. Every flick of Heeseung's fingers, every thrust of Jake's tongue, every push of Sunghoon's cock made your stomach coil tighter and tighter, until the knot inside you threatened to snap.

And then it did.

You came so hard it tore a strangled cry out of your throat, your body convulsing with the force of it. The orgasm crashed into you violently, your back arching off the bed, your legs trembling as Jake's hands clamped down on your thighs to keep you open.

You almost bit down on Sunghoon from the shock of it, your mouth clenching, your throat spasming, and he pulled back with a sharp hiss, his hand replacing himself on your lips to keep you from choking. But Jake didn't stop; he didn't even pause. His tongue twisted deep inside you, lapping greedily at everything you gave him, his head moving side to side as if he wanted to drink you dry. He held you down through every wave, prolonging the orgasm until you thought your body might tear apart from how hard you were shaking.

"Fuck, ah—fuck, shit," Sunghoon cursed above you, his voice breaking into a groan. His grip tightened on your jaw as his release hit suddenly, hot ropes of cum splattering across your face in quick, forceful bursts. Some streaked down your lips, some across your cheeks, and one stray spurt landed in your eye, stinging faintly but drowned out by the overwhelming tide of pleasure still wrecking your body.

You barely processed it, too lost in the pulsing aftershocks of your orgasm and the relentless flicks of Heeseung's thumbs still torturing your nipples. The sensation was too much, every nerve in your body stretched taut as Jake's mouth sealed back over your clit, his tongue circling lazily as he wanted to drag every last drop of climax from you.

Your sobs broke into gasps, your chest rising sharply, your face sticky with Sunghoon's cum, your throat raw from the moans you couldn't stop. And still, Heeseung's eyes stayed locked on you, darkly watching you writhe.

"I need to fuck her already," Heeseung finally muttered, already standing.

Jake stopped what he was doing and glared at him, his jaw clenched. "Who the fuck said you were gonna be first? I was the one who talked to her. I was the one who had her on her knees until now." His hands went to his shirt, ripping it over his head before shoving his pants down impatiently, his irritation burning through every motion.

Sunghoon sighed, throwing his head back, eyes half-lidded as he grabbed your shaky hand and wrapped it around his cock. "You two are always fighting about this shit," he muttered, ignoring the tension and letting you stroke him, his hips lifting slightly into your fist. His lashes fluttered shut as a low groan escaped him. "Fuck, that's it. Don't stop, baby. Just keep going. That's all I need."

"Fuck off," Heeseung snapped as he took a step closer. "You've both had enough time playing with her. I've been waiting, and I'm not standing here any longer."

Your eyes darted between them, your chest rising in short, desperate pulls of breath, before landing on Sunghoon again. He was still focused only on you, his hand over yours, guiding you up and down his thick cock. "Feels so fucking good," he groaned, his voice breaking, his neck exposed as his head fell back.

"That's why I get to be the first to fuck her," Jake shot back, standing tall now, his cock hard and throbbing against his stomach. His smirk was sharp, challenging. "You were late. I've been making her drip for me."

Sunghoon leaned closer to you, his breath hot against your ear, his lips brushing the corner of your jaw. "Ignore them, baby. Just focus on me." His other hand slid around your waist, tugging you closer until his lips pressed firmly against your neck. He kissed you hard, then nipped at your skin, his teeth dragging up to your jaw before biting again. You gasped at the sting, your hand stroking him faster, your wrist straining with the effort.

"Such a good girl," he moaned, his lips vibrating against your throat. His fingers slipped down your belly until they found your soaked pussy again, circling lazily around your entrance. The teasing pressure made you jolt, your moans tumbling out helplessly as he finally pushed one finger inside. Your walls clenched instantly, wrapping tight around him, and his sharp groan against your ear told you exactly how much he liked it. "So tight," he whispered, almost to himself, before sinking another finger inside.

"Sunghoon—" your voice broke, whimpering, the heat spreading too fast through your core as his hand worked inside you.

"Keep those pretty legs open for me, baby," he murmured, his lips dragging down to your shoulder, his teeth grazing the delicate skin. "Need to stretch this pussy for all of us. You want that, don't you? Want to take us all?"

Your only answer was a frantic nod, your lips trembling as your hand gripped his cock tighter, pumping him faster even as your own body shuddered from his fingers curling deep inside.

"You seem to be enjoying yourself too much, Sunghoon," Jake hissed, stepping forward. His hand shot out, pulling you roughly away from Sunghoon's grip.

You whined at the sudden loss, your body immediately protesting the absence of his fingers inside you.

"Shhh, darling," Jake cooed mockingly, wiping at your cum-stained face with his thumb before pressing his lips against yours in a hungry kiss. His mouth was demanding, tasting, his teeth nipping at your lower lip before pulling back with a smirk. "Me and Heeseung will make you feel so fucking good. You want that, don't you?"

"Yes," you whimpered without hesitation, nodding quickly, your desperation spilling through. You turned on your hands and knees before they could even tell you, body moving on instantly because you knew. You'd heard the whispers. You knew this was how Jake liked to fuck—rough, from behind, with no mercy. "Please."

Jake's laugh was low, almost breathless as he stared at your ass. "Fuck, you don't even need to be told. So hot like this." His palm cracked against your cheek, the sting making you moan as he spread you open with his hands.

Your eyes flicked up, catching Sunghoon again—he was watching with his lip caught between his teeth, his hand wrapped tight around his cock, stroking lazily as his gaze devoured you.

And then your eyes trailed higher, locking with Heeseung, who was standing in front of you, holding the base of his thick cock as if offering it to you. You opened your mouth instantly, ready to take him, but instead he grabbed your chin, tilting your head until you were forced to look up at him.

You sucked in a sharp breath when Jake's tip pressed against your soaked pussy, your entire body stiffening at the stretch before he even entered. His grip on your waist was bruising, anchoring you in place.

"Shit," Jake groaned under his breath, his voice breaking into a growl as he pushed in deeper. "How long has it been since you've been fucked like this? You're tight as fuck."

Your whimpers filled the air, your eyes locked on Heeseung's as he squished your cheeks between his large hand.

"Talk," Heeseung demanded, his eyes burning down into you. "Don't just sit there like a pretty little toy. Tell us what you want. Say it."

The moment he said it, Jake shoved his cock all the way inside you, the sudden fullness making your head drop forward with a cry.

"Moan louder. Scream our names. Tell us what to do to you," Heeseung ordered, pushing you to the edge as Jake's thrusts started to slam into you from behind.

"I—" you stammered through gasps, your body buckling under the rhythm. "I've been dreaming of this since first year." The confession tumbled out without filter, every word dripping with desperation.

Your honesty ripped a sound from both Jake and Sunghoon, low groans that mixed with the slick sound of your body being fucked. Heeseung's gaze hardened, his nostrils flaring as his jaw clenched. Jake's thrusts grew harsher, his hips snapping against you with punishing speed.

"W-want all of you to use me—fuck me, please!" you squealed, your voice cracking as Jake's cock found that spot inside you and hit it mercilessly.

Jake's laugh was cruel, his words spilling out between moans. "Yeah? That's why you gave in so fucking easy? Thought we'd have to drag it out of you, but you just spread those legs like the slut you are." His hand clamped down on your arms, dragging you back onto his cock as he fucked you harder, each thrust shaking your body forward.

Tears pooled again in your eyes as you shook your head weakly, your voice breaking between cries. "N-not a slut! D-don't call me that—ah, f-fuck! Jake!"

But he only thrust faster, slamming into you, groaning at how you clenched so tightly around him the harder he degraded you.

"Yeah?" Jake's voice dropped to a whisper, his lips brushing against your ear, his breath hot and ragged. "Then why the fuck are you here like this? Why are you dripping on me if you're not exactly what I called you?" His thrusts grew erratic, pounding straight into the softest spot inside you, making your knees tremble, making your nails dig into the sheets until your knuckles turned white.

You couldn't even answer him at first, because the way he was fucking you made your thoughts scatter, your mouth falling open as broken sounds spilled out. But then Heeseung was on you again, his hand fisting in your hair, pulling your head back so you had no choice but to meet his eyes.

"Come on," Heeseung murmured. His thumb brushed over your trembling bottom lip before tightening his grip on your hair, forcing your mouth open slightly. "Ignore him. Tell us what you need. Use that pretty voice."

Your chest heaved, your lashes fluttering, every nerve in your body screaming for more. "Want you—" your voice cracked, "want you all to fill m-my pussy up." The words came out broken, but loud enough for all of them to hear. Your body arched as another wave of Jake's thrusts sent shocks of heat through you, and you sobbed through your moan. "G-give me your biggest load, make me your toy for tonight—ahhh!"

Your scream broke off when Jake's hand slipped down, his fingers pinching your clit hard before slapping it over and over, sharp little bursts of pain crashing into the overwhelming pleasure. The mix had your eyes rolling back into your skull, your mouth falling open as drool slipped from the corner of your lips.

"Yes! Fuck, yes!" you squealed, your voice hoarse, your body jerking helplessly as the coil in your stomach twisted tight, tighter than before. Your thighs shook violently, your legs threatening to give out beneath you if it weren't for Jake's grip anchoring you in place. Every nerve screamed release, but he didn't stop, his cock drilling into you, his fingers punishing your clit until you were certain you'd break.

"Where do you want it?" Jake grunted against your neck, his thrusts almost brutal now, each one stealing the air from your lungs. "Where do you want me to cum, huh? Say it."

Heeseung tugged your hair harder, forcing your eyes to meet his again, his dark gaze pinning you as if daring you to answer wrong. Sunghoon's low groans filled the room behind them, the sound of his fist gliding over his cock only making the moment heavier.

Your lips trembled as you tried to form the words, every part of you shaking, drowning in pleasure, drowning in them.

"Anywhere," you gasped. "In my mouth, in my face, in my body, in my pussy—just fucking cum anywhere in me!"

"Fuck!" Jake groaned. His palm came down on your clit with a sharp slap that had your legs trembling so violently, your pussy clenching down on him with merciless tightness. The shock sent your body into another wave, your scream cutting through the air as you came hard around his cock, your walls fluttering, soaking him with everything you had.

The way you pulsed around him dragged him over the edge, his hips snapping forward with reckless speed until his cock throbbed and spilled, his hot cum spilling deep inside you in thick spurts that made your stomach twist with satisfaction. The moment you felt him paint your walls, you let out a long, broken moan, almost sobbing at how good it felt, how badly you'd needed it.

Heeseung finally let go of your hair, stepping back just far enough to watch you crumble under Jake. His eyes were locked on the mess between your legs, on the sight of Jake's cock still buried in you while his cum leaked out in slow, obscene drips.

His hand slid down his abdomen until he was stroking himself openly, his jaw tight, his breathing heavy. The look in his eyes told you he was seconds away from joining, and that thought made your clit twitch with aftershocks.

Sunghoon's chest rose and fell sharply as he leaned back, still stroking his cock at a steady rhythm, his gaze locked on you. His lips parted, his breathing uneven.

Jake's body eventually stilled, his forehead damp with sweat, his chest heaving with each breath as he looked down at your trembling frame. He pulled back slowly, letting his cock slide free from your swollen pussy. The moment he did, his cum began to spill out in a steady stream, dripping down your thighs and pooling between them.

He had never finished that hard before—he knew it, and from the stunned silence, so did the others. Even Heeseung's brows had furrowed at the sight, as if he couldn't believe how much you were leaking.

Your eyes fluttered half-lidded, your lashes wet with tears and sweat, your breaths shallow and uneven. Your body was heavy, limp from the storm that had wracked you, but somewhere deep inside, you found the strength to move your fingers, twitching weakly against the sheets. You weren't done. You couldn't be. You wanted more—you needed more. Your body begged for it, trembling but eager, your pussy clenching around nothing as if calling for another cock to fill you.

You forced your eyes open again, vision blurred with sweat and tears. And then—

"You're into this shit again?"

That voice. Deep, familiar voice, it cut through everything—the ringing in your ears, the haze in your mind, the pounding of your own heart.

Your pussy clenched instantly, as if your body recognized him before your brain could, a sharp rush of need flooding through you at just the sound.

"Took you long enough, Jay," Sunghoon muttered with a crooked smile, though his hand didn't stop stroking himself.

Jake looked up too, his chest still heaving, his hand dragging across his sweaty forehead, annoyance flickering across his features. Heeseung paused mid-stroke, his gaze narrowing, his jaw flexing as his attention shifted from you to the man at the door.

And you—your throat went dry, your lips parted, your heart slamming painfully against your ribs. Jay was here. Finally!

A soft, broken whine left your lips as your body shifted toward him. Jay's eyes sharpened, his expression was unreadable as he stepped fully inside, closing the door behind him. His gaze swept over the room, over Jake still breathless, Sunghoon stroking himself lazily, Heeseung looming above you, and finally, it landed on you—sweaty, trembling, your face flushed and messy, your eyes wide and glassy as they reached for him.

He didn't move immediately. He just stood there, silent, his jaw tight, demanding the others explain without him saying a word.

But Heeseung didn't give him the chance. He gripped your legs firmly, dragging you down the bed until you were flush beneath him, your body spread and waiting. Jay's eyes narrowed as he caught the sight of your hand twitching toward him, so close yet so far, the longing in your movement almost pathetic in its honesty.

Before you could call out, Heeseung pinned your arms above your head, his fingers curling around your wrists with unrelenting strength. His mouth brushed the shell of your ear, his voice low and taunting. "No more waiting. I've already held back long enough."

And then without warning, he pushed his cock all the way into you in one brutal thrust.

Your scream ripped through the air, your body arching violently as he bottomed out, stretching you so suddenly you could hardly think. The slick of Jake's cum inside you made it easier, made it wetter, but it didn't stop the sharp, overwhelming sting of being filled again so completely, so roughly.

"Fuck—yes," Heeseung groaned, his forehead pressing briefly to your temple as he steadied himself, though his hips didn't slow. "Need to bury my dick inside this pussy before anyone else tries to stop me. If I wait another second, I'll lose my goddamn mind."

He began to pound into you without mercy, each thrust shaking your body, pushing you deeper into the mattress. The sound of it mixed with his growls and your cries until it was all one desperate rhythm. His pace was punishing, desperate, as if he needed to erase the traces Jake left behind, like he needed to make sure you remembered him the most.

Your eyes flickered open through the haze, and there's Jay.

He was still standing where he'd closed the door, but now his chest rose heavily. He was watching you, not Heeseung, not Jake or Sunghoon, but you—his gaze locked on your face, on the way your lips trembled around moans, on the way your eyes begged for him even while another man fucked you senseless.

The sight of him like that—stoic, his stare pinning you harder than Heeseung's grip ever could—made your walls spasm tight around Heeseung's cock. You couldn't move forward, couldn't reach Jay the way you wanted, Heeseung's weight pinning you down just as Jake had before. It was maddening, being fucked this hard while Jay stood so close yet untouchable.

"Look at you," Heeseung groaned, his pace ruthless, his cock battering your soaked cunt. "You're dripping, squeezing me like you never want me to leave. You love it—you fucking love it."

And he wasn't wrong.

Your mind was spiraling, torn between the brutal pleasure flooding your body and the heat of Jay's eyes locked on you.

Heeseung's hand slid up the side of your face, his fingers pressing into your cheek as he tilted your head toward him. The moment your lips brushed against his, you melted, kissing him back feverishly, moaning into his mouth as he swallowed every sound. His thrusts didn't falter, his cock dragging mercilessly against that spot inside you that had you unraveling so quickly, another orgasm barreling through your overstimulated body before you could even brace yourself. Your legs shook violently, your cries muffled by his mouth as you shattered around him again.

Jake, still hard and needy, didn't wait any longer. He stepped closer, ignoring Jay's looming silence, his cock already heavy and dripping. Sunghoon followed, stroking himself lazily, his smirk curling as he looked down at your messy face and trembling body. Heeseung adjusted his body and hold, his hand locking tightly around your waist as he slowed just enough to grind into you deliberately, rolling his hips in a way that pressed cruelly against your swollen clit and that spongy spot inside, teasing you, forcing more whimpers from your lips even as your body tried to recover.

When Jake and Sunghoon moved to either side of your head, you reacted instantly. Both your hands reached out to wrap around them, your fingers straining around their girth. A muffled moan escaped you, your eyes fluttering, as Sunghoon leaned lower, his hand sliding to your breast, kneading it roughly.

The sensation made you gasp, your lips parting, and Jake took the opportunity to rub his cock against your tongue. You sighed in bliss, your throat vibrating as you licked the tip, your saliva mixing with the sticky fluid still clinging to him from earlier. You sucked eagerly, slurping him down before switching, letting Sunghoon feel your tongue glide along the underside of his length, licking from his base to his leaking tip. All the while, Heeseung's thrusts grew sharper, pounding harder, each one jarring your body as he lost the battle with his own restraint.

"Fuck, you really wanted this, huh?" Sunghoon groaned, watching your lips wrap around him before sliding free. His hand tangled in your hair, guiding you lower, feeding himself into your mouth as his hips rolled slowly, deliberately. "Moaning with three cocks on you, and enjoying every second of it."

Your eyes watered as you let him push deeper, your throat tightening, but the messy desperation in your moans proved his words right. You pulled off with a wet gasp, kissing the head of his cock, smearing saliva across it before whispering against him.

"Love your cock... so much," you breathed, your lips brushing the tip, your eyes flicking immediately past him—toward Jay. That gnawing ache inside you swelled, and before you could stop yourself, your whine tumbled out. "Is Jay not gonna join?"

The room stilled at your words.

Jake chuckled dryly, tugging your wrist tighter around his shaft before thrusting into your hand with rough, impatient strokes. "You've got three cocks already and still not enough for you?" His voice dropped lower, his pace quickening as he fucked into your fist. "Can't even handle us together, but you're begging for more. God, you're insatiable."

Heeseung growled low in his throat, his thrusts growing faster, harsher, punishing you for even speaking Jay's name. Sunghoon hissed through his teeth as your grip on him tightened, his thumb brushing your spit-slicked lips.

"S-sorry!" you squeaked, your back arching violently as the three of them claimed every inch of your body with greedy, unrelenting hands. The sensations collided into each other, overwhelming, making it impossible to tell where one touch ended and another began.

Your skin burned under their palms, every squeeze, every slap, every tug forcing your body to twitch and your chest to heave with broken sobs of pleasure.

"Focus on us, you fucking bitch," Heeseung growled, dangerous enough to make your cunt clench so tight around him that his hips stuttered. He cursed, gripping your waist harder, his cock slamming into you with renewed force, each thrust demanding your full attention, demanding that you forget everything but him, but them.

Your eyes rolled back, your lips trembling, but you couldn't stop glancing toward Jay, couldn't stop feeling that magnetic pull toward his stare.

Jake grunted, his hand tangling roughly in your hair, yanking your head toward him as his cock brushed against your lips again. "Ignore him. You hear me? He's not the one inside you right now—we are. So open your fucking mouth and focus," his cockhead smearing across your tongue before pushing in, forcing your throat to stretch around him again. The taste of him mixed with the mess already dripping down your chin, and you moaned around his length, gagging slightly when he pushed deeper, his hips jerking at the sound.

Sunghoon, never content to let the others take more than him, pressed closer, his fingers pinching your nipple until you whined. "That's right. You're ours tonight, baby. All ours."

His hand slid lower, spreading you wider for Heeseung's relentless thrusts, his fingers brushing your clit in circles that made you sob.

Your words came out slurred. "Y-yours! All yours! F-fuck—I can't—ahh, I can't take it—"

Heeseung cut you off with a growl, thrusting deeper, harder, the bed frame slamming into the wall with each movement. "Yes, you can, slut. You'll take everything I give you." Your walls clenched even tighter around him, milking his cock.

"I'm not a fucking slut!" The protest tore from your throat just as another orgasm ripped through you, your body spasming violently.

Your legs tried to slam shut against the unbearable pleasure, but Jake and Sunghoon caught them instantly, spreading you wider, keeping you open, holding you there as Heeseung continued pounding into you mercilessly. Your moan stretched high, long, broken in its desperation as tears streamed down your face.

Heeseung pulled out abruptly, your cunt fluttering around nothing, before plunging three of his fingers inside you. The sudden stretch made your entire body jolt upward, your scream breaking into sobs as he fucked his fingers into you with a brutal pace. His palm pressed hard against your clit with every thrust, his thumb flicking over the swollen bud, making your vision blur and your mind scatter.

Your body shook violently, your head thrashing from side to side, your voice rising in hysterical sobs that filled the room. "Stop! S-stop! I'm gonna—I'm go-going to pee! Stop, wait! Please, wait—!"

Your arms tried to push them off, tried to squirm free, but Jake and Sunghoon pinned you tighter, one hand on each wrist, one grip on each thigh, keeping you spread open for Heeseung's relentless assault.

Heeseung's eyes darkened, his jaw clenched as he kept driving into your pussy with his fingers, your slick coating his hand, dripping down his wrist, the sound of it loud and wet. His cock twitched angrily in his other hand as he stroked himself in slow pulls, groaning low in his chest. "Come on, sweetheart. Don't fight it. Let it out for us. Show us how much you need us."

Jake leaned closer, his lip caught between his teeth, his eyes fixed on the mess between your thighs. The obscene squelching filled his ears, making his cock ache again. "Fuck—listen to her pussy. She's about to—" His words cut off with a groan as his own hips rutted helplessly into the air.

Your high-pitched scream tore through the room as the dam inside you finally snapped. 

A gush of hot liquid burst from your pussy, splattering over your stomach, your thighs, the sheets beneath you, drenching Heeseung's hand and face as he ducked lower, moaning against the spray. The force of it made your ears ring, your vision blur, your body convulse helplessly.

It was humiliating, overwhelming, devastatingly good. You sobbed openly, your face slick with tears and spit, Sunghoon's cum already drying against your skin, and now your own release coating everything around you. Your body trembled uncontrollably, your legs twitching and kicking weakly until Jake and Sunghoon finally let them fall open to the side.

You curled inward, your arms wrapping protectively over your chest, your body folding small as though you could hide. But the sheets were soaked beneath you, the air heavy with the scent of sex, the room echoing with your broken cries.

"So good," Heeseung's lips parted against your soaked skin and licked at the mess you left on his face. His eyes fluttered shut, his strokes on his cock tightening, his hand gliding through the mixture of your slick and squirt.

"Get the fuck to the side. I'm going to taste it." Jake's hand already twitched toward you, greedy and impatient.

Sunghoon's laugh came rough and breathless, his chest rising and falling as he lazily stroked himself, his eyes locked on the wet ruin between your thighs. "Bro, shut the fuck up. You already had your turn. It's my turn now."

Sunghoon leaned forward, dragging his tongue over your cheek, licking at the tears that stained your skin before pressing a sloppy kiss to the corner of your mouth.

"Step aside. I'm not done yet." Heeseung shoved Sunghoon out of his way, his hand already on your thigh, forcing your legs apart with a strength that made your body jolt.

"W-wait—" your voice broke, a weak sniffle escaping as you tried to catch your breath, your chest heaving rapidly, overstimulation already threatening to unravel you further.

The stretch of your thighs, the way Heeseung's fingers pressed into your skin, it all made you flinch with both anticipation and fear. You weren't sure if you could take more, but your body betrayed you, your cunt twitching at the thought of him filling you again.

"Dude, no fun," Sunghoon muttered, irritation coloring his tone as he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, still tasting you there. His cock twitched in his fist, but he leaned back with a scowl.

"Three of you step back. You can't even take care of her." Jay's voice cut through the air, commanding, silencing all of them in an instant.

Your head turned instinctively toward him. The sound of his voice sent a violent shiver down your spine, your pussy clenching around nothing as though it had been waiting only for him. Your chest hitched, your lips parting on a desperate little whimper that you couldn't hold back. "J-Jay..."

Jake scoffed from the other side of the bed, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, but the flash of annoyance in his expression didn't hide the way his chest rose faster, as if even he knew Jay's presence shifted everything. "She's fine. Don't act like you're the savior now."

Jay's gaze flicked toward him, before returning to you. He moved closer until he stood at the edge of the bed, looking down at your trembling body. "She's more than fine. She's a mess. Look at her." His jaw tightened as his eyes roamed over you—your soaked thighs, your trembling legs, your chest that still rose and fell unevenly. His voice softened. "She's mine to take care of."

Heeseung growled low in his throat, clearly unwilling to back off, his body still hovering over you. "We've already broken her in. Don't come here acting like you own her now." His fingers dug into your thigh harder, spreading you wider as if to make his point.

Jay's expression didn't shift, though his eyes burned darker. "Then move. Or I'll make you."

You breathe heavily, looking at the both of them. And you—your body trembled violently, torn apart by the clash of their voices, but deep down you knew what you wanted. Your lips quivered, the words slipping out before you could stop yourself. "I... I want Jay..."

The silence that followed was deafening.

Heeseung froze above you, his eyes narrowing dangerously, while Jake let out a low laugh, though the jealousy in it was sharp. Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, biting his lip as though amused but also curious to see what Jay would do.

Jay leaned closer, his hand reaching out to brush your messy hair away from your face, his touch surprisingly gentle after all the roughness you'd endured. His thumb stroked over your damp cheek, wiping at the dried tears. His gaze softened as he looked at you.

"Here I thought I was your favorite," Heeseung muttered, finally releasing the tight grip he had on your leg. Beneath the teasing, a mix of bitterness and disappointment that made your chest ache even in your haze.

Jake snorted, throwing a smirk in Heeseung's direction. "Don't flatter yourself. She probably still thinks you're her number one. She just wants another cock inside her because that's what sluts do." His words were cruel, but his retreat was obvious, stepping back from you, his chest still heaving.

Heeseung only shrugged at that, but his eyes flicked to you once more before he turned his head away.

Your lips trembled, guilt and shame mixing with the raw need still burning inside you. You tilted your head toward Jay, your voice coming out as the weakest of whispers. "D-do you want me to clean up first?" The moment the words left your mouth, your chest tightened—afraid he might flinch, afraid he might see you the same way Jake just called you.

But Jay only smiled softly, shaking his head as though the thought was absurd. "It's alright, angel."

The simple reassurance broke something in you. Your eyes stung all over again, but before the tears could spill, his mouth was already moving lower, pressing a trail of unhurried kisses along your inner thigh. Each press of his lips lingered. By the time his lips hovered just above your swollen core, his pointed nose brushing lightly over your sensitive clit, your back had already arched off the sheets in anticipation.

You gasped softly, when his tongue finally slid against you. Hot, steady, and so focused, his tongue swirled around your folds before slipping inside you, teasing your oversensitive walls with a precision that made your breath catch in your throat. The contrast to the brutal pace you'd been enduring was staggering—he wasn't just eating you out, he was savoring you.

Your hands flew instinctively to his hair, trembling fingers tangling into his dark strands as you moaned helplessly, your chest rising and falling with every wave of sensation he drew from you. "J-Jay..." His name slipped from your lips brokenly.

He hummed against your cunt at the sound, the vibration making you twitch as his tongue moved deeper, stroking places inside you that made your toes curl. His grip on your hips tightened, holding you still when your thighs tried to clamp shut around his head from the overwhelming pleasure.

Behind him, you could feel the others watching—Heeseung's silence heavy, Jake's low scoff, Sunghoon's quiet hum of approval—but all of it blurred into the background when Jay moaned against you, drinking you down.

You whimpered, tugging at his hair as your hips bucked weakly into his mouth. "S-so good... I can't, I c-can't hold it—"

Jay pulled back just enough to glance up at you, his lips glistening with your slick, his eyes dark but soft. "Then don't. Let go for me, angel. Just me."

And with that, he dipped his head again, his tongue flicking against your clit with quick, precise strokes while his fingers slid inside you, curling expertly until you were screaming, until your body was trembling so hard you thought it might break apart.

Jay let go of your trembling body, his lips brushing once more against your temple before he finally shifted back. The bed dipped under his weight as he knelt at the edge, the leather of his belt creaking faintly as his fingers tugged at the buckle.

You knew the night had only just begun, but here in this room it already felt like you had been devoured whole, like there was no way out.

"Have you ever been fucked in the ass?" Jay's voice broke through, deceptively calm, his palm gliding down the curve of your thigh, rubbing in a slow rhythm as if coaxing you into trust.

Your lashes fluttered, your chest seizing as though his words had cut the air straight out of your lungs. "H-Huh?" Your voice cracked, eyes wide, searching his expression for some sign of softness that might match the way he'd just held you.

From your left, Jake let out a muffled laugh, the sound harsh against the fragile silence that followed your confusion.

Jay's hand didn't falter. He pressed a little higher on your thigh, the pads of his fingers stroking, teasing, until finally one circled lower, grazing a place that had never been touched this way before.

His tone was as gentle as before, almost sickeningly so. "I asked," he repeated slowly, "have you ever been fucked in your ass, angel?"

The tip of his finger brushed against your rim and you gasped, the breath caught sharp in your throat as heat and panic flared all at once. Your body jolted, betraying you. You couldn't even find the words, your head turning automatically toward the other three. Heeseung, Jake, and Sunghoon—all three watching you intently, not a single one offering you an escape.

You shook your head quickly, shame coloring your cheeks as your voice finally stumbled out. "N-No..."

Jay's lips curved into a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "On your arms and knees, then. I'll be gentle with you."

The smile was soft, but you could already feel the deception in it. You should've known by now—Jay only looked gentle when he wanted you to obey.

Your tears hadn't even dried when you felt his finger pressing more firmly at your rim, the tight, foreign intrusion making your body stiffen. The burn was immediate, sharp, a sensation your body didn't know how to handle. He twisted his finger slowly, deliberately, and the stretch made you whimper, your hands clawing desperately at the sheets.

"C-can't take it," you cried, shaking your head, your vision blurring again. Your body writhed under him, desperate for someone—anyone—to stop him.

"Hurts, Sunghoon. It hurts!" Your arm reached blindly for him, searching for comfort.

And Sunghoon leaned in instantly, catching your reaching hand, his lips brushing your temple in mock sympathy. "Shh," he cooed, the sound almost tender if not for the wicked edge beneath it. "I thought you were a good girl? You've been dreaming about us for so long, haven't you? This is what you wanted."

Your sobs shook your chest, but your body betrayed you again—clenching around Jay's finger, trembling from every deliberate twist.

On your other side, Heeseung moved closer, crouching low until his chest brushed against your arm. He caught your free hand and guided it toward him, pressing your palm around his cock.  "Come on, baby. Use those hands. Don't just cry. Make yourself useful while Jay breaks you in."

Jay's finger pushed deeper, the slow stretch pulling another ragged sob from your throat. He watched you closely, his jaw tight, his cock already heavy in his hand as he stroked it lazily. His lips curved again, "relax, angel. Breathe. I'll make it hurt less if you beg me properly."

When Jay finally pulled his finger free, your body sagged in relief—but it was short-lived. The sharp tear of foil reached your ears, and your stomach flipped as the sound registered. You forced your head to lift, desperate to see him, but Sunghoon's hand kept you locked in place, his grip so firm on your hair that you couldn't move. He angled you down toward Heeseung's cock again, your mouth spreading open around him until you gagged.

You heard the faint snap of latex as Jay rolled the condom down his thick length, the squirt of lube slicking the air before his fist wrapped around himself, stroking with slow pumps. You tried to tilt your head to catch a glimpse, but Sunghoon tugged hard, forcing you to choke around Heeseung's cock. Your throat tightened painfully as you coughed against the intrusion.

"Hmp—!" Your cry was muffled, spilling against Heeseung's cock as Jay pressed forward. The blunt head of his cock nudged against your rim, stretching you in ways you weren't prepared for.

Jay's groan vibrated through the room, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he pushed deeper, inch by inch. His hands gripped your ass, spreading you wider, making you tremble as the burn ignited again.

Your throat was stuffed with Heeseung's cock, and every shallow thrust into your mouth came with another humiliating gulp, gulp, gulp. Each noise mingled with Jay's ragged breathing as he sank himself slowly into your ass.

By the time his cock buried itself halfway, your hands had flown to Heeseung's thighs in desperation, nails scratching down his skin as your throat tried to adjust. Heeseung hissed sharply at the sting, then abruptly pulled out, your mouth gasping for air as you coughed and sobbed.

"Bitch," he spat, slapping your cheek with enough force to sting. Your head tilted from the impact, tears spilling harder as you whimpered against the mattress, your body trembling uncontrollably.

The sound of the slap cracked through the room—and the shift in the air was instant. Jay froze, his dark eyes snapping up, his jaw tight. Slowly, he leaned over you, his chest pressing against your back, his cock still halfway inside your ass as he fixed his glare on Heeseung.

"The fuck do you think you're doing?"

"She fucking scratched me—" Heeseung started.

Jay's glare sharpened, cutting him off. His hand curled around your hip, steadying you as he leaned closer until his lips brushed your ear, his words meant for both you and Heeseung. "Apologize. To her. Now."

Heeseung's jaw flexed, annoyance flashing in his eyes, but under Jay's burning stare, he finally muttered, "...Sorry."

You sniffled, your face pressed to the sheets, too shaken to respond. Jay's grip on your hip softened just enough for his thumb to caress you. "You okay, hmm?"

You swallowed hard, unable to find your voice, and forced yourself to nod against the sheets. Your chest rose and fell in shuddering waves, but you needed him to believe you could take it.

Jay hummed softly, almost like praise. "That's it. Breathe for me, angel. Let me in. Don't hold back." His hips pressed forward again. The intrusion stretched you open slowly, your body fighting to keep up with his size. The burn sharpened into an unbearable sting, and you screamed into the mattress, toes curling tight against the sheets as you struggled not to collapse.

Sunghoon's hand smoothed over your hair, patting your head with a tenderness, so comforting that make you whimper. "Good girl," he whispered, as though you needed his approval just to keep breathing.

Then Heeseung moved closer, his hand sliding between your thighs to press against your soaked pussy.

"Sorry, baby." His palm cupped you carefully, you flinched at first, but when he leaned in, his lips closing over your nipple, sucking hard, the sharp edge of pain dulled under a rush of pleasure. The shift made your back arch violently, the cry that tore from you high and desperate.

"Ahh! F-fuck!" you screamed, voice cracking, torn between pain and bliss.

Jay grunted at the way your body squeezed around him, his hand wrapping tightly around your arm to pull it back behind you like a lever. His other hand gripped your shoulder firmly, anchoring you while his hips snapped forward with force. Each thrust sent a wet smack echoing through the room, skin colliding with a punishing rhythm.

Heeseung groaned against your chest, his tongue flicking over your nipple as his fingers pressed harder into your clit, rubbing circles that sent shocks of sensation racing through your trembling body. The mixture of Jay's brutal thrusts and Heeseung's eager mouth had you thrashing.

You never thought being filled that way could drag such a storm out of you. The sting that had first made you sob now twisted into something overwhelming, a blend of fire and honey that made your body betray you with every clench. Each thrust blurred the line between pain and euphoria until you couldn't separate one from the other, only the dizzy rush that kept forcing cries from your throat.

At some point, you lost track of who was where.

You were a doll passed between them, shifted and handled, your body too pliant to resist, too consumed by sensation to understand the movement until it was already happening.

When Jay lifted you with an arm hooked under your ribs, carrying your trembling weight as though you were light as air, your limbs hung loose, hair falling forward like a curtain, your head lolling against his chest. The world was hazy, sound muffled except for their voices and the unrelenting rhythm of flesh against flesh.

You moaned uncontrollably, the sound spilling out of you even before Sunghoon pushed inside your swollen pussy. He didn't wait, he didn't tease—he slid in deep, and the stretch dragged another cry out of your throat.

Jake positioned himself over you, his hands squeezing your tits roughly, pressing them together around the length of his cock. He thrusted between them with a feral need, groaning at the slick heat as he forced you to keep your trembling arms raised so you couldn't rest, so none of them were ignored.

Your muscles screamed, the burn in your shoulders mixing with the fire between your legs. Yet the harder it became to hold on, the more your moans broke apart into helpless sobs.

"Shit! So fucking good!" Sunghoon moaned, usually he was silent, the one who held back while the others filled the air, but now his restraint had shattered. His moans came rough and guttural, pulled from his chest with every thrust, his expression twisting into something close to pure bliss. Each time his hips met yours, the sound that tore from his throat was louder, rawer, until you realized he was trembling too—losing himself in you just as much as you were unraveling under him.

Your vision blurred at the edges, tears clinging to your lashes, the ringing in your ears drowning out everything but their voices and the wet sounds of bodies colliding. Orgasms tore through you one after another, piling so fast you couldn't separate them anymore. You were trapped in the spiral of it, begging without thought, "Y-yes, fuck, yes—I can't stop—I need it—please, don't stop!"

Your body betrayed you completely, arching up even as you wanted to collapse. The adhesive gems clinging to your eyelids sparkled faintly under the light, miraculously still in place as your eyes rolled back, your tongue slipping free from your mouth with no strength left to hold it in. You were a mess, unrecognizable even to yourself, but they devoured every second of it.

Jake groaned low in his chest as his cock pulsed, spilling over your tits, hot ropes covering your skin until you were painted in him. He slapped your chest once more, watching it smear across your breasts before stumbling back, his body giving out as he dropped onto the mattress, panting heavily, drained but satisfied.

The moment you were freed from him, your lips were claimed again. Heeseung and Jay's mouths fought for space against yours, kissing you with different kinds of urgency—Jay deep and consuming, Heeseung sharp and demanding. Their lips pulled moans out of you you didn't even know you had left, your eyes shut tight as your mouth parted helplessly between them.

Meanwhile, Sunghoon's cock dragged deeper inside you, angling until it brushed that spot that made your whole body spasm. The rhythm of his thrusts grew steadier, more desperate, his hips slamming into you with a pace that made your chest heave and your breath hitch against the mouths kissing yours. He was unrelenting, he couldn't stop himself, your body had unlocked something in him he never wanted to let go of.

Sunghoon's control shattered first. His jaw clenched, veins standing out along his neck as he pushed deeper, his movements rough and unsteady, every thrust dragging a desperate sound from him. His eyes squeezed shut and his head tilted back, a moan ripping from his throat as his stomach tightened, the pleasure consuming him faster than he could handle. He bit down on his lip, but it wasn't enough to stifle the way his body shook while his cock throbbed violently inside you.

You felt the hot flood of his release filling you in long, uncontrollable spurts. It spread thick through your core, making your walls clench tighter as though your body wanted to keep him there, to hold every drop.

The sensation was so overwhelming that your back arched high into Jay's chest. He caught you easily, his large hand spreading over your breast and kneading. His lips swallowed your broken moans, his tongue sliding deep until you whimpered against him, unable to keep up.

Your hips jerked when Sunghoon finally spilled the last of his release, the force of it pushing some of his cum to seep out around his cock. He slumped forward, chest heaving, but his grip on your waist betrayed his reluctance to leave you. He wanted to stay buried, to keep claiming you—but his body gave out, and with a low groan he pulled free, his length glistening as it slid from your swollen cunt.

The loss of him left you trembling, and before you could even breathe, Heeseung was already there. His hand slid between your thighs, fingers parting your slick folds without hesitation. He rubbed over your swollen clit in tight circles, faster, sharper, and your lips tore away from Jay's kiss to scream, your cry echoing through the room as a new wave of sensation tore through you.

Sunghoon's cum was still dripping from your pussy when Heeseung's fingers slapped against your sensitive clit. The sharp sting made your hips spasm, jerking upward uncontrollably, the sound of the wet slap filling the room. Your thighs shook, but Jay's hand on your chest kept you pressed firmly against him, forcing you to take it all.

"So fucking hot," Jay groaned against your skin, his teeth grazing your neck before biting down just enough to leave a mark. He soothed the bite with his tongue before sucking at the spot, leaving his claim branded into your skin while you cried softly beneath him.

"Come on," Heeseung coaxed. He gave your clit another sharp slap that made you gasp, your entire body twitching. "Breathe. Deep. You've still got two cocks waiting for you."

Your body was trembling, the exhaustion in your muscles fighting against the need clawing through your veins. Every part of you screamed for a pause, a moment of stillness, but your lips betrayed you, spilling soft, broken words into the heated air.

"...cock... want more..." you whispered, not even sure if you meant to say it out loud, but the second it left your mouth, they moved.

They shifted you onto Heeseung first, his broad chest rising under your palms as he positioned himself at your entrance. Your thighs burned as you straddled him, but you couldn't stop yourself from lowering down, grinding until his thick tip slid past your folds, the friction making your entire body quiver.

Heeseung's eyes darkened immediately, his hands gripping your waist as he guided you, feeling the way your heat stretched around him.

Jay stood behind you, his movements methodical as he tore open another condom with his teeth. He rolled the latex down over his length with one hand, the other already spreading over your lower back, holding you steady. His touch was careful, deceptively gentle, even as you felt the blunt press of his cock teasing your other entrance.

The stretch made you scream, your head snapping back to his shoulder as his cock slowly pushed inside your ass. Your tits arched forward, bouncing in Heeseung's face, and he groaned like he was seeing heaven itself, his mouth immediately latching onto one nipple. His tongue flicked hard before he began sucking greedily, moaning against your skin, drowning himself in the taste of you might keep him from unraveling completely.

He told himself not to get attached, not to think beyond the raw act of it but as he looked up, catching the sight of your face twisted with both pain and euphoria, your lashes damp with tears, your lips parted, your flushed cheeks glowing, he was gone. So fucking pretty, too pretty for this. His chest tightened, his teeth sinking into his lip, half-lidded eyes watching you lose yourself while he thrust up into you.

"Ahh—fuck! S-so good! Feels so good!" you sobbed, your voice breaking as both of them found their rhythm inside you.

Jay's arm slid tighter around your middle, pulling you back against him, while his other hand anchored hard on your shoulder.

Each drive of his hips made your body lurch forward, and every time he withdrew, Heeseung thrust upward to meet you, their cocks colliding through the thin barrier inside you. The pressure was relentless, unbearable yet addicting. You felt so full, so completely wrecked, yet you didn't want them to stop.

Your head fell back against Jay's shoulder, your throat exposed, your lips trembling as the sounds poured out of you unrestrained. His gaze locked onto you, never wavering, watching every twitch of your brows, every flutter of your lashes, every blissful break in your voice.

His stomach coiled tight when he saw you smile through your moans, blissful grin that said you were floating in a haze beyond reason.

And then—when you let out a delirious laugh, drunk on cock and pleasure—both he and Heeseung nearly lost control.

"Shit... fuck, look at her," Heeseung moaned against your chest, thrusts erratic as your pussy clenched harder, milking him. His thumb found your clit again, circling with ruthless precision, making your hips twitch violently in their hold.

"Fucking cockdrunk," Jake muttered from the side, his voice strained, his hand already wrapped tight around his cock as he stroked himself, eyes devouring the sight of you stuffed full between Jay and Heeseung.

"Unbelievable..." Sunghoon hissed, though his body betrayed his words as his cock hardened again at the sight. His chest rose sharply, his jaw tightening as his eyes burned into you, unable to look away.

And you—you were flying. Your entire body trembled, sweat dripping down your back, every nerve set alight as two cocks pounded into you in perfect rhythm, stretching you in ways you never thought you could handle. You weren't just moaning anymore—you were laughing, delirious, euphoric, because nothing had ever felt this good. The world outside didn't exist. There was only this. Only them. Only the way your body sang under their hands, under their cocks.

You were living your best fucking life, and in that moment, you knew you never wanted it to end.

"Shit—I'm gonna cum," Heeseung groaned, his head falling back against the pillow as his thrusts grew uneven. You couldn't help yourself, couldn't stop your body from pushing back onto his cock, greedy for every last inch.

"Need it—please, I need you to cum inside me—don't hold back," you moaned.

Jay tightened his bicep around your throat, dragging you flush against him as his lips pressed against your temple. "Take it, angel. Take all of him."

The heat in your chest exploded when Heeseung moaned loud and emptied inside you. The sound of his voice made your heart lurch even as your own orgasm tore through you again. Your walls clenched so violently that his cock twitched helplessly, spilling thicker and thicker ropes of cum until you could feel the weight of it stretching your stomach. The mess spilled from the corners of your folds, warm streams dripping down your thighs.

But before the haze could settle, Jay's voice cut through. "Pull out, Heeseung. It's my turn—I want to cum in her too." His arm around your throat tightened, pulling you higher onto him, your back arching as his cock slid free from your ass, still painfully hard.

Heeseung hesitated, his chest heaving, his eyes narrowing like he didn't want to let go of the heat he'd buried himself in. He gave a sharp exhale of frustration but finally withdrew, his cock wet and shining as he let you slip from him.

Jay didn't waste a second. He yanked off the condom, tossing it carelessly aside, then pushed his length inside your pussy still dripping with Heeseung's load. The stretch burned, but the mix of fluids made him slide in effortlessly, and the sensation had your toes curling instantly.

"Fuck—fuck, she's so wet," Jay groaned, his forehead pressing against the side of your head. His pace was punishing, his hips snapping against your ass as his hand gripped your hip to anchor himself.

"Can't hold it—gonna fill you—"

The moment he buried himself deep, his body stiffened, and he spilled hot inside you. His growl vibrated against your ear, the sound of his release mixing with your own helpless moans. You could feel it, the pulse of his cock as he filled you so completely that the mix of him and Heeseung spilled back out, dripping into a sticky mess beneath you.

It took a long moment before they both released you, your body sagging limp between them. You barely had the strength to move when Jake stepped forward, his hand already pumping his length with urgency, his eyes locked on your face. Sunghoon moved with him, their cocks standing tall, both of them crowding your view as you were laid down on your back.

"Open up, baby," Jake ordered.

Your lips parted, tongue falling out on instinct, the salty taste of precum already smearing across it as they fisted themselves harder. Their groans overlapped as thick spurts painted your cheeks, your forehead, your lips, dripping down your neck and into your hair. You swallowed what you could, eyes rolling back at the sheer dirtiness of it, your chest rising and falling rapidly with each ragged breath.

You stared blankly at the ceiling, vision hazy, ears ringing so loud it felt like you were underwater. Your head was spinning, the room tilting, but your body was already being turned again.

Your limbs flopped uselessly as Jake forced his cock back to hardness, guiding himself to your ass, while Heeseung gripped your legs wide, holding you open as though your exhaustion didn't matter.

One by one, they took their turns again, each of them sliding into your abused body, spilling more inside until it felt like there wasn't any part of you left untouched. Your mind was gone, floating somewhere else, your mouth hanging open without sound, and still, they didn't stop.

The last thing you remembered was Sunghoon's icy hands spreading your folds, his voice low with awe as he stared at the mess dripping from your swollen used pussy—thick white streams still spurting.

And then you passed out, swallowed by the overwhelming haze of pleasure and exhaustion, your body twitching even in unconsciousness, your mind lost in the aftershocks of everything they had done.

You woke with a body that felt heavier than stone, every inch aching. The room was quiet except for the soft snores surrounding you.

You shivered, realizing the air was cold against your damp hair and clammy skin, only to notice the weight of arms draped over you—two different hands anchoring you in place. One was around your waist, pulling you back into a solid chest, the other rested lazily on your hip.

You blinked hard, trying to gather yourself, and only then did you notice you were clothed, though barely. Someone had slipped a shirt over you, but it was hiked up high, baring most of your thighs. Heart pounding, you tilted your head, your breath catching when you saw Jay's face so close to yours. His features were peaceful, his brows relaxed, lips parted just slightly as a soft groan escaped him. Even in sleep, he pulled you tighter into his chest.

"What the fuck..." you whispered under your breath, pulse racing as heat rushed to your cheeks.

Your gaze dropped lower and froze. Sunghoon's head rested against your chest, lips slack and still attached to your nipple. His hand was curled around your waist too, fingers twitching. The memory of his face twisted in pleasure, his voice breaking with moans, hit you so hard that your thighs clenched instinctively.

You stifled a sound, your whole face burning.

Carefully, with your fingers trembling, you began to pry their hands off one by one, moving Jay's arm and slipping Sunghoon's hand back over his own body. It felt like sneaking out of something you weren't supposed to survive. But before you could breathe in relief, your eyes darted downward—and you almost screamed.

At the foot of the bed, sprawled across like he owned the space, was Jake. His cheek was pressed into the mattress, lips parted as he breathed heavily, his bare chest rising and falling. He looked so soft like this, so far from the rough, taunting voice that had wrecked you just hours ago.

Your stomach flipped.

"What the hell..." you whispered again, a little louder this time, biting your lip as panic swirled in your chest. You couldn't stay here. Not with the memories flashing in your head.

Ignoring the deep ache in your thighs and the heaviness weighing down your limbs, you tiptoed around them, snatching your heels and dress from the table. The sound of the zipper sliding into place echoed too loudly in your ears as you tried to dress as quietly as possible.

When you finally slipped out and pulled the door shut behind you, you pressed your back against it, exhaling sharply. Relief barely lasted a second before you froze again.

Someone was sitting in the living room.

Heeseung was perched on the couch, phone in hand, his tall frame hunched slightly forward. The glow of the screen lit his sharp features, but the second the door clicked shut, his head snapped up. His eyes widened as if he hadn't expected you to actually walk out. In a blur, he was standing, pocketing his phone.

"Hey," his voice came out softer than you remembered.

Your whole body stiffened, eyes wide, your pulse hammering in your throat. The room was quiet but the weight of his presence filled it, and you could feel your heart fluttering in panic—or maybe dangerously close to longing.

"It's just five-thirty," he said, glancing briefly at the window where the faintest gray of dawn was creeping in. "We finished at four. Are you... already leaving?"

Your throat was dry. Fuck. He was talking to you. Just standing there, bare-faced and raw from the night before, his voice carrying none of the arrogance it once did. You wanted to respond, but your mouth betrayed you, stuck in silence. You could only stare at him, your gaze trembling before you forced it away, too shy, too ashamed, too overwhelmed.

Heeseung shifted his weight, his Adam's apple bobbing as though he was working up the nerve. Then, in a tone that was almost uncertain, he asked, "Were we too rough?"

You blinked up at him, startled.

"I..." you started, but the words stuck.

His jaw tightened, eyes flickering before he let out a low sigh. He rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous gesture that didn't fit the man who had held you down hours earlier. His voice dropped lower, rough with regret. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to slap you like that. I just... I got carried away."

The sincerity in his tone, the way his eyes searched yours like he needed you to believe him, made your chest ache. You didn't trust yourself to speak, your throat felt raw, so you simply nodded, awkward and small, hoping it was enough.

"I—I... uh... shit." Heeseung's voice faltered.

He was fumbling, caught off guard by the weight of his own thoughts. For the first time, he seemed unsure.

Heeseung had always respected the girls they brought into this kind of mess, but responsibility was something he usually left to Jay, who carried gentleness. Yet with you, the urge was different. It was tugging at him in a way he couldn't ignore, and it unsettled him more than he'd ever admit.

His tongue darted over his lips, his brows knitting together as he shifted closer, still cautious of your fragile state. "Do you... want to leave? I—uh—I can get my car, or call someone, or—wait." He cut himself off, unsure what offer would make sense, what you even needed from him right now.

You shook your head quickly, your hands clinging to your heels. Your voice came out almost too small to hear, but you forced the words past your lips. "T-thank you. I-I can manage myself. Th-thank you... so much."

It was rushed, shaky, like you needed to get it out before your voice betrayed the truth of how fragile you felt. Without waiting for his response, you turned away, your bare feet carrying you in tiny, stumbling steps toward the door. Each step hurt, your body reminding you of everything from last night, but you pressed forward anyway, desperate to escape the heaviness in the room.

"Wait—what's your—" Heeseung started, his hand twitching forward as if he could reach you. But the words fell flat, caught in his throat, and he stopped himself before finishing. His lips pressed together in frustration, a quiet curse slipping under his breath. His eyes followed the curve of your back, the fragile sway of your shoulders, the sound of your unsteady footsteps echoing.

"...number."

The word left him softer than a whisper, too late, almost swallowed by the empty space you left behind.

He stood there for a long moment, staring at the door you'd just disappeared through, torn between running after you and letting you go. His jaw clenched, his hand raking through his hair as he sank back down onto the couch.

He couldn't shake the image of you—the way your eyes had rolled back in bliss, the way you had laughed in the middle of it all, the way you looked at him now as if you wanted to disappear.

And Heeseung felt a kind of defeat that left his chest heavy. First, he was pissed that Jay, of all people, had managed to pull your attention more than once that night. Second, he hadn't even gotten the chance to really enjoy you the way he wanted, not fully, not the way that would have been enough. And third—worst of all—he didn't even know your full name, or what department you were in, or anything beyond that single night where you'd let yourself unravel in his arms and under his hands.

"Fuck..." he muttered under his breath, dragging a hand over his face, frustrated at the gnawing ache in his chest. You were too pretty, too delicate, too intoxicating, and it infuriated him that Sunghoon and Jake had gotten their way with you first, splitting you open before he ever had the chance to claim you for himself. The thought of them having your "first" and sharing you so easily left a bitter taste in his mouth. He wanted you whole, wanted you alone, wanted more than the scraps of a night shared with three others.

Heeseung realized this wasn't just another nameless, faceless memory to throw away. He didn't want this to be the last time. He wanted more of you—your laugh, your trembling voice, your warmth pressed against him. The only thing he had left was the trace of your scent, still lingering faintly on his skin and in the air, that floral sweetness that he couldn't shake no matter how many showers he took. It drove him mad.

"Hey, I tried your perfume and it doesn't smell nearly as nice on me as it does on you." 

Your classmate pouted, watching you rub lotion into your arms after swim class. Her tone was playful, but her eyes lingered longer than usual, narrowing slightly at the fading bruises that scattered along your thighs.

"—Wait, are you okay? What's with all these marks?" she asked, her voice shifting, curious but edged with concern as her gaze dropped to your legs, then caught on your wrist where faint discoloration still traced your skin.

You forced a small smile, your hands moving carefully as though the weight of her stare could dig deeper into your body. "Anemia," you said lightly. "You know how it gets sometimes."

She frowned, unconvinced, but didn't press further. You focused on squeezing another bit of lotion into your palm, your thoughts drifting elsewhere. The bottle was nearly empty, and you hesitated for a moment, wondering if you should buy another or try something different.

It had been two weeks. Two weeks since your body had been pushed to its limit, since you had let yourself fall apart in the arms, mouths, and cocks of four men who you never should have gotten tangled with.

As much as it thrilled you to remember, you knew it wasn't something you could ever share. Not with your classmates, not with anyone. This was yours alone.

And so, you smiled at your friend, pretending everything was normal, while inside, you cherished the memory of a night you swore you'd never tell.

You tied your damp hair back, the strands clinging to your neck as you tugged on a sweatshirt and shorts. A light mist of perfume lingered as you sprayed your wrists, your throat, the curve of your shoulder, even down your spine as though you could drown yourself in that sweet comfort.

"God, you smell so good again," your friend whined, fanning herself dramatically. You only chuckled and brushed her off, slipping your bag onto your shoulder before following the group.

The conversation turned quickly, as it always seemed to these days.

"How come those fuckboys keep throwing parties and we never hear a word after? It's like magic," one girl scoffed, and the others broke into agreement, voices overlapping with laughter.

"Right? I swear they must be fucking someone every time," another chimed in, clapping her hands for emphasis. "No way they're just drinking. But no one ever talks. Like—ever."

Their voices carried ahead of you while you trailed behind, smiling faintly, shaking your head as if their words were just another baseless rumor. Inside, though, your chest tightened. If only they knew. If only they could imagine half of what had happened that night. But you weren't about to let them. You had no intention of ever telling a single soul.

That night was a secret carved into you, and the four of them had reputations built on silence—no communication, no strings, no trace.

You sighed, crouching down to fix your shoelace, the chatter of your classmates fading as they moved further down the hall. One of them called your name over their shoulder, urging you to hurry, but before you could respond, the sound of measured steps came closer. A shadow cut across the floor in front of you.

You froze.

Slowly, your gaze lifted from the shoes planted right in front of you. And your heart stopped.

"Found you," a low voice drawled, threaded with satisfaction, almost a taunt.

Gasps erupted behind you, your classmates halting in their tracks.

Your eyes widened. Heeseung was really there, standing over you in broad daylight, surrounded by people, breaking his own rules without hesitation. You couldn't move, couldn't breathe.

Then, without warning, he crouched down in front of you. The tall, untouchable Heeseung—the one who ignored every girl who chased after him, who made it clear he wanted nothing to do with messy attention—was kneeling, his long fingers brushing over your loose shoelace.

"I had a hard time finding you," he muttered, not loud enough for anyone but you to hear. His tone was casual, but his jaw was tight, his movements sharp with frustration as he tied the knot in one clean motion. "It really pissed me off, you know?"

Your throat went dry. Heat crawled up your neck, spreading across your face until you felt the tips of your ears burn.

Why? Why was he here? Why was he talking to you? This wasn't the Heeseung everyone else knew. He never lowered himself like this—not in front of everyone, not where people could see. He shut girls down without a glance, his cold indifference the very thing that made them chase harder. Yet here he was, focused on you with an intensity that made your stomach twist.

Around you, your classmates whispered furiously, unable to hide their shock. Some covered their mouths, others exchanged wide-eyed looks, but no one dared step closer.

"Can we talk?" His voice was steady, but softer than you expected, almost coaxing.

When you finally dared to look at him, his eyes caught yours. They weren't the eyes of the cold, untouchable Heeseung everyone claimed to know. No, they were gentle, wide, almost disarming, like he was looking through you and not just at you. He smiled—small, sweet, almost shy—and your lips trembled against the sudden wave of nerves.

"H-Huh?" Your voice cracked embarrassingly.

Before you could gather yourself, he reached forward and plucked your bag from your shoulder. His hand found yours in the same motion, his long fingers curling around your palm. The contact made your knees weaken, a sharp rush of heat flooding your chest.

Heeseung was holding your hand. Heeseung, who never even let girls close enough to breathe the same air without brushing them off, was lacing his fingers with yours in front of everyone!

"Let's get out of here first, hmm?" His tone carried a teasing lilt, but his grip on your hand was firm.

You could hardly process as he tugged you gently in the opposite direction, away from your frozen classmates whose whispers grew louder. Each step with him felt surreal, like walking straight into a dream you weren't ready for but couldn't pull away from.

Then, as if to seal the knot of heaviness swirling in your chest, his head tilted close, his breath warm against your ear.

"It's now my turn to have you all to myself."