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The bass thrummed through the floor of the studio, a low, steady heartbeat against the soles of your shoes. You clutched the tablet to your chest, the screen displaying Hongjoong’s schedule for the next week. It was a simple delivery, a routine task. You were just the assistant, the invisible hand that smoothed out the wrinkles in their chaotic lives. You knocked softly, the sound barely audible over the synth line he was perfecting.
“Come in,” his voice called, muffled.
You pushed the door open. Hongjoong was hunched over his mixing board, headphones around his neck, his brow furrowed in concentration. San was sprawled on the small couch against the wall, scrolling on his phone, his long legs taking up most of the available space. He looked up and a bright, genuine smile spread across his face.
“Hey! Look who’s here to save Hongjoong from himself,” San greeted, sitting up.
Hongjoong glanced back, a tired but grateful look in his eyes. “Hey. Just give me a second to finish this loop.” He turned back to the board, his fingers dancing across the controls.
You waited patiently, reviewing the schedule points in your head. San patted the empty space on the couch beside him. “Sit. Don’t stand there like a statue. We don’t bite.”
You chuckled and perched on the edge of the cushion. “Unless you want me to,” he added with a wink, his voice a low murmur. You felt a blush creep up your neck and blamed the warm air in the room.
“Alright, I’m good,” Hongjoong announced, spinning in his chair. He ran a hand through his bleach-blonde hair, making it stick up in artful spikes. “What’s the damage?”
You handed him the tablet, pointing out the changes. He listened intently, his eyes sharp and focused. As you explained a scheduling conflict, you felt San’s gaze on you. It was a heavy, appreciative look that made your skin tingle.
“Okay, that’s manageable. Thanks for bringing this by,” Hongjoong said, handing the tablet back. “We were just about to head out for dinner. You should join us.”
“Oh, no, I couldn’t,” you protested immediately. “I have to get back to the office.”
“It’s late,” San chimed in, his voice persuasive. “The office can wait. Hongjoong’s a terrible cook, but he orders amazing fried chicken. And there’s beer.”
Hongjoong laughed. “Hey! I’m not that bad. But yes, there’s chicken and beer. Come on. It’s the least we can do for you staying late.”
Their combined insistence was a force of nature. It always had been. From the moment you started two years ago, they had chipped away at your professional reserve, drawing you into their chaotic, vibrant world. You were no longer just the manager’s assistant. You were their friend.
“Okay,” you finally relented, a smile breaking through. “But only for a little while.”
Hongjoong’s apartment was warm and lived-in, a stark contrast to the sterile studio. Music played softly from a speaker. The coffee table was already a landscape of empty beer cans and a greasy box of fried chicken. It was messy, comfortable, and completely theirs.
You settled onto the floor cushion, accepting the cold beer San handed you. Hongjoong put on a movie, some action flick you barely paid attention to. The conversation flowed easily, punctuated by laughter and the crunch of chicken. You weren’t drunk, but a pleasant buzz settled under your skin, loosening your tongue and your limbs.
You were telling a story about a mishap at a photoshoot when you felt it. San shifted closer, his thigh pressing against yours. It was a casual touch, but it sent a jolt straight through you. You stuttered for a moment, losing your train of thought.
“Something wrong?” San asked, his voice innocent, but his eyes held a knowing glint.
“No, nothing,” you recovered, taking a long sip of your beer.
A few minutes later, Hongjoong moved from the armchair to the floor, sitting on your other side. Now you were sandwiched between them, their body heat a palpable presence. The air grew thick with unspoken tension. The movie became distant background noise.
“You know,” Hongjoong said, his voice low and raspy, “we’ve always wondered what it would be like to have you here like this. Not as our assistant, but just… with us.”
Your heart hammered against your ribs. “What do you mean?”
San’s hand found your knee, his thumb stroking slow circles on your jeans. “I think you know what he means. We see you, you know. We’ve always seen you. Not invisible at all.”
You turned to look at him, and his face was close, his dark eyes intense. He smelled of cologne and beer. Your gaze flickered to Hongjoong, who was watching you with an equally hungry expression.
“This is a bad idea,” you whispered, but there was no conviction in your voice.
“Maybe,” Hongjoong conceded, his hand coming up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Or maybe it’s the best idea we’ve had all night.”
His fingers lingered on your cheek, tracing the line of your jaw. San’s hand slid higher up your thigh, his touch firm and possessive. You were trapped, but you didn’t want to escape. This was the inevitable conclusion of two years of stolen glances and loaded compliments.
“Can we?” San asked, his lips brushing against your ear, his breath warm. “Can we show you?”
You could only nod, your breath catching in your throat.
That was all the permission they needed. San’s mouth was on yours, demanding and deep. His tongue swept in, claiming you. It was a kiss you had been fantasizing about for months, and it was even better than you imagined. At the same time, Hongjoong’s lips found the sensitive skin of your neck, kissing a slow path up to your earlobe.
“You taste so good,” he murmured against your skin. “Better than I imagined.”
San’s hands were everywhere, roving over your back, your hips, pulling you closer. Hongjoong’s fingers found the hem of your shirt, and he tugged it upward. You broke the kiss with San just long enough for Hongjoong to pull the shirt over your head. The cool air hit your skin, raising goosebumps.
“Fuck, you’re perfect,” San breathed, his eyes roaming over your chest.
Hongjoong’s hands came around to cup your breasts through your bra, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, making them pebble instantly. “So responsive,” he praised, his voice a low rumble. “I wonder how responsive you are everywhere else.”
His words sent a fresh wave of desire through you. San reached behind you and, with practiced ease, unhooked your bra. It fell away, and you were bare to their hungry gazes.
“God, look at you,” Hongjoong said, his voice thick with awe. He leaned in and took one peaked nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud. You gasped, your head falling back against San’s shoulder.
San’s hands continued their exploration, one sliding down your stomach to the button of your jeans. He popped it open, the sound loud in the quiet room. His fingers dipped below the waistband of your panties, teasing the soft skin there.
“Hongjoong’s right,” San whispered in your ear, his voice a husky promise. “So responsive. I can already feel how hot you are for us.”
His fingers slipped lower, parting your folds to find your clit. He circled it slowly, deliberately, building the pressure with each pass. You moaned, your hips arching into his touch. Hongjoong switched to your other breast, giving it the same lavish attention, his teeth scraping gently against your nipple.
“Please,” you whimpered, not sure what you were begging for.
“Please what?” San asked, his fingers stilling their maddening tease. “Tell us what you want.”
“More,” you breathed. “I need more.”
Hongjoong released your nipple with a wet pop and looked at you, his eyes dark with lust. “Oh, we’ll give you more. We’re going to take you apart, piece by piece.”
San’s fingers slid lower, teasing your entrance before sinking one long finger inside you. You cried out at the sudden, delicious stretch. He pumped it in and out slowly, his palm pressing against your clit with every thrust.
“You’re so tight,” San groaned. “And so wet. You feel incredible.”
He added a second finger, scissoring them inside you, stretching you open. The dual stimulation of Hongjoong’s mouth on your breasts and San’s fingers inside you was overwhelming. You could feel the tension coiling in your belly, a tight knot of pleasure waiting to snap.
“Come on, baby,” Hongjoong urged, his voice rough. “Let go for us. Come on San’s fingers.”
San curled his fingers, finding that spongy spot inside you that made you see stars. He rubbed it relentlessly, his thumb returning to your clit, circling it faster and faster. The knot in your belly snapped, and your first orgasm crashed over you in a blinding wave. You cried out their names as your body convulsed, your inner walls clamping down on San’s fingers.
They didn’t give you a moment to recover. Hongjoong captured your mouth in a searing kiss as San slowly withdrew his fingers. He lifted them to his lips, his eyes locked on yours, and slowly, deliberately, licked them clean. A low groan rumbled in his chest. “So fucking sweet,” he murmured, the sound vibrating through you.
Hongjoong broke the kiss, his lips swollen and glistening. San looked at Hongjoong, a silent, heated understanding passing between them. “Lie back,” San commanded softly, his voice leaving no room for argument.
You shifted, lying back on the soft rug, the pile of the carpet a welcome texture against your bare skin. Hongjoong moved with a predatory grace, settling between your legs. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your jeans and panties, pulling them both down in one slow, torturous movement. You were completely exposed to them, and the vulnerability only heightened your arousal.
San knelt beside your head, his hand stroking your hair. “Watch him,” he ordered. “Watch what our captain does to you.”
Hongjoong lowered his head, his warm breath ghosting over your inner thighs. He placed open-mouthed kisses on your sensitive skin, working his way higher. His hands gripped your hips, holding you in place. You were trembling with anticipation.
Then his mouth was on you. His tongue flattened against your clit, licking a long, slow stripe from your entrance to the sensitive bundle of nerves. You gasped, your hands flying to his hair, your fingers tangling in the soft strands.
“Fuck, Hongjoong,” you moaned, your back arching off the floor.
He was relentless. His tongue swirled and flicked, exploring every inch of your folds. He sucked your clit into his mouth, his teeth grazing it gently, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure-pain through you. He was devouring you, and you were completely at his mercy.
“You like that, don’t you?” San’s voice was a low growl beside your ear. “You like the way he eats that pretty pussy. Look at you, already falling apart again.”
Hongjoong hummed against you, the vibration adding another layer of stimulation. He slid two fingers back inside you, curling them to hit that perfect spot as his tongue continued its assault on your clit. The dual sensations were too much, too intense. The pleasure built again, faster this time, a roaring fire in your veins.
“That’s it, baby,” San encouraged, his hand moving to cup your breast, his thumb rolling your nipple. “Give him another one. Come all over his face.”
His dirty words were the final push. Your second orgasm tore through you, more powerful than the first. Your vision went white as you cried out, your body shaking uncontrollably. Hongjoong held you through it, his tongue lapping at your release, prolonging your pleasure until you were a boneless, panting mess.
He finally lifted his head, his face glistening with your arousal. A smug, satisfied smirk played on his lips. “Even sweeter than I imagined,” he said, his voice husky.
San chuckled. “I can’t wait to find out how she feels.”
They moved as one, flipping you over onto your hands and knees. San positioned himself in front of you, his legs spread. He was still fully clothed, the bulge in his jeans straining against the denim. He unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, pulling out his cock. It was long and hard, the tip already beading with pre-cum.
“Open up,” he commanded, his voice rough with need.
You leaned forward, taking him into your mouth. He groaned, his hand tangling in your hair as you swirled your tongue around the head, tasting the salty fluid. You took him deeper, relaxing your throat to accommodate his length.
“Just like that,” he hissed, his hips rocking gently, fucking your mouth. “Such a good girl for us.”
Behind you, you heard the rustle of clothes and the tear of a foil packet. Hongjoong’s hands were on your ass, kneading the flesh. He ran a finger down your slit, collecting your wetness before pressing his sheathed cock against your entrance.
“You ready for me?” he asked, his voice strained.
You moaned around San’s cock in response.
That was all the encouragement he needed. He pushed inside you, slowly, inch by inch, stretching you deliciously. You paused, savoring the feeling of being completely full. Once he was buried to the hilt, he stilled, giving you a moment to adjust.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his grip on your hips tightening. “So fucking perfect.”
Then he started to move. He pulled out almost all the way before slamming back into you, setting a hard, fast rhythm. The force of his thrusts pushed you further onto San’s cock, making you take him deeper. The room was filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, your muffled moans, and their harsh breaths.
“You take us so well,” San praised, his eyes dark as he watched his cock disappear into your mouth. “Our perfect little assistant, taking us both like you were made for it.”
Hongjoong reached around, his fingers finding your clit. He rubbed it in time with his thrusts, pushing you closer and closer to the edge again. The pleasure was overwhelming, a tidal wave threatening to drown you.
“Come with us,” Hongjoong demanded, his voice ragged. “Come all over my cock while San fills that pretty mouth.”
His words sent you over. Your third orgasm ripped through you, a violent, shuddering release that left you gasping for air. Your walls clenched around Hongjoong’s cock, and with a loud groan, he followed you over the edge, his hot release filling the condom.
San wasn’t far behind. With a final, deep thrust, he came, his salty release flooding your mouth. You swallowed it all, licking him clean before he pulled away.
You collapsed onto the rug, your body spent and trembling. San disposed of the condom before lying down beside you, pulling you into his arms. Hongjoong stretched out on your other side, his arm draped over your waist. You were surrounded by them, their warmth a comforting weight.
You lay there for a moment, catching your breath, but their hands didn’t stay still for long. San’s lips found your neck, his teeth nipping gently. Hongjoong’s hand slid down your back, over the curve of your ass. You could feel them both hard against you again, their desire insatiable.
“Think you can take more?” Hongjoong whispered, his voice a low challenge. “Think you can take both of us? For real this time?”
Your breath hitched. The idea was terrifying and electrifying all at once. San’s hands were already guiding you, rolling you onto your back. He moved to kneel between your legs, his long, thick cock in his hand. Hongjoong knelt beside your head, his own erection just as imposing.
“We’ll make it so good,” San promised, his voice thick with a hunger that made your core clench. “We’ll fill you up completely.”
You nodded, your consent a silent, shaky breath.
San leaned down, capturing your lips in a deep, possessive kiss as he positioned himself at your entrance. He pushed inside you in one smooth, deep stroke, and you cried out at the exquisite stretch. He filled you perfectly, his hips settling against yours.
“God, you feel amazing,” he groaned, his forehead resting against yours.
He began to move, a slow, deliberate rhythm that had you arching your back. Hongjoong, not to be left out, moved closer, his cock brushing against your lips. You turned your head, taking him into your mouth, your tongue swirling around his sensitive head. He hissed in pleasure, his hand tangling in your hair as he began to rock his hips, fucking your mouth in time with San’s thrusts.
The dual stimulation was mind-blowing. San’s cock hitting deep inside you with every thrust, Hongjoong’s cock filling your mouth, their hands roaming your body, stroking your breasts, your clit. It was a symphony of pleasure, and you were the instrument they were playing.
But they wanted more.
San slowed his movements, pulling out of you. You whimpered at the loss, but Hongjoong was already moving. He lay down on his back, pulling you on top of him. You straddled his waist, sinking down onto his hard length. He gripped your hips, guiding you as you began to ride him, your hands planted on his chest for leverage.
“Just like that,” he praised, his eyes dark with lust. “Ride me, baby.”
You were lost in the pleasure, your body moving on instinct. Then you felt San behind you. His hands were on your hips, stilling your movements. He leaned over you, his chest pressing against your back.
“Relax for us,” he whispered in your ear. “Let us in.”
You felt him press against your already-filled entrance. Your eyes widened, a gasp escaping your lips. He was going to fuck you while Hongjoong was already inside you.
“Breathe,” Hongjoong coached, his hands stroking your thighs. “Just breathe and push back a little.”
You took a deep, shaky breath and did as he said. San pushed forward slowly, and you felt the most intense, overwhelming stretch of your life. It was a tight, burning pressure, but beneath it was a shocking, electrifying pleasure. You cried out as the head of his cock breached your entrance, sliding in alongside Hongjoong’s.
They gave you a moment, letting you adjust to the impossible fullness. You were stretched to your absolute limit, a vessel for their combined desire. Every nerve ending was on fire, your body trembling with a mixture of pain and pleasure so intense it was blinding.
“Fuck,” San groaned, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. “You’re so tight. So perfect.”
Hongjoong’s hands were stroking your back, his touch a grounding force. “You’re taking us so well,” he murmured, his voice thick with awe. “Look at you, so full of us.”
Then they began to move. It was a slow, shallow rhythm at first, a careful rocking motion that had them sliding against each other inside you. The friction was indescribable, a dual stimulation that sent shockwaves of pleasure through your entire body. You were completely and utterly overwhelmed, a willing victim to their shared assault.
Their pace gradually quickened, their movements becoming more confident, more demanding. As one pulled out, the other pushed in, a relentless, punishing rhythm that stole your breath. The room was filled with the sounds of their harsh grunts, your helpless cries, and the slick, obscene sound of their cocks moving inside you.
“You look so beautiful like this,” San praised, his lips brushing against your ear. “Stuffed full of our cocks, taking everything we give you.”
“Our perfect girl,” Hongjoong added, his hands gripping your hips tighter, guiding your movements. “Made to take us both.”
The pleasure was building to an impossible height, a pressure so intense it was almost painful. You could feel another orgasm coiling deep in your belly, more powerful than any of the others. It was a tidal wave, and you were about to be swept away.
“Come for us,” San demanded, his voice a low growl. “Come on our cocks. One last time. Let us feel you.”
His words were your undoing. Your orgasm shattered through you, a cataclysmic explosion that ripped you apart from the inside out. You screamed their names, your body convulsing violently as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you. Your inner walls clamped down on them, a vise-like grip that pulled them over the edge with you.
With twin roars of your names, they found their release, their hot seed filling you simultaneously. The feeling was so absolute, so complete, that it sent another, smaller wave of pleasure through your already spent body.
For a long moment, the only sounds in the room were your ragged breaths and the pounding of your own heart in your ears. San slowly eased out of you first, his arms wrapping around your waist to hold you steady. Hongjoong followed, and you felt the sudden, hollow emptiness where they had just been. Your limbs gave out, and you collapsed forward onto Hongjoong’s chest, his heart beating a frantic rhythm against your cheek.
San lay down behind you, sandwiching you between their warm, sweat-slicked bodies. He pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder blade. “Are you okay?” he murmured, his voice thick with a mixture of awe and concern.
You could only manage a weak hum in response, your body too exhausted to form words. Hongjoong’s arms came around you, one hand stroking your hair gently. “She’s more than okay,” he said, his voice a low rumble in his chest. “She’s incredible.”
You lay there in a blissful haze, the pleasant ache in your muscles a testament to what they had just done to you. This was so far beyond the bounds of your job description, so far from the invisible, insignificant role you were supposed to play. This was something else entirely. This was possession.
After a few minutes, San shifted. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said softly.
He carefully lifted you into his arms, your legs too shaky to hold you. Hongjoong got up and led the way to the bathroom. San set you down gently on your feet in the shower, holding you steady while Hongjoong turned on the water. The warm spray cascaded over your body, soothing your sore muscles.
They washed you with a tenderness that contrasted sharply with the raw intensity of what had just happened. Hongjoong lathered soap in his hands and gently cleaned your body, his touch reverent. San washed your hair, his fingers massaging your scalp with slow, careful circles. You felt cherished, worshipped.
When they were done, they wrapped you in a large, fluffy towel and carried you back to the bedroom. They had stripped the messy rug and pulled back the covers on Hongjoong’s bed. They laid you down in the middle, and you immediately sank into the soft mattress, your eyes drifting closed.
You felt the bed dip on either side of you as they climbed in. San curled up behind you, his arm draped over your waist, pulling you back against his chest. Hongjoong faced you, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin.
“You’re not going back to the office,” Hongjoong stated again, his voice soft but firm, a final declaration.
San chuckled, his breath warm against your ear. “Or any other night,” he added, his voice a sleepy murmur. “You’re stuck with us now.”
You opened your eyes and looked at Hongjoong, a slow smile spreading across your face. “Good,” you whispered, your voice hoarse.
You were no longer the manager’s assistant. You were theirs. And as you drifted off to sleep, safely nestled between them, you knew you had never felt more at home.